#and I can’t wait to watch it again and again

[uhuhmaries]

Ovulating | H.S.

You’re engaged to THE Harry Styles. ‘Nuff said.

Warnings: Very NSFW

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

You’ve been teasing him without meaning to.

Wearing those little shorts around the house. Stretching in front of the open fridge. Pressing your thighs together every time he so much as breathes near your neck. Harry’s noticed it all. He always does.

And when he found your period tracker open on your phone screen earlier—he didn’t say a word. Just smirked to himself.

“Fertile window, hm?” he murmured as he walked off to make tea, like it wasn’t the most dangerous piece of information he could’ve gotten his hands on.

Now, he’s behind you in the kitchen. You’re doing something ordinary—pouring a glass of water, checking your phone—and then he’s crowding you, warm chest against your back, hands firm on your hips.

“I know what this is about,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your neck. “You’ve been walking around this house like a little heat-struck kitten.”

“Harry—”

“You want it, don’t you?” His voice is so low, it’s practically a growl. “Want me to fill you up while you’re ovulating like a good little thing.”

You should say no. You should remind him you’re not ready, that just because your body’s desperate doesn’t mean your mind is. But your legs go weak the moment his palm slips between them, cupping your pussy through the thin fabric.

“So wet already,” he purrs. “Fucking dripping.”

He turns you around and lifts you onto the kitchen counter in one swift move. Your shorts are yanked down. Your underwear follows. He doesn’t waste a second. Two fingers dip into your soaked folds and your entire body reacts like it’s been waiting for him to do that all day.

“You ovulating, baby?” he asks again, teasing you with the tip of his finger. “Need Daddy to take care of you?”

His words burn into your skin, molten and reckless. You nod, lips parted, the heat in your belly unbearable now.

That’s all the confirmation he needs.

His pants are barely pushed down before his cock is out—thick, flushed, leaking.

“You don’t wanna be pregnant?” he asks while lining himself up, like he’s trying to give you one last chance to change your mind. “You sure?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know—fuck—I don’t know.”

“But your pussy does,” he hisses, dragging the head through your folds. “She’s fuckin’ begging for me.”

The second he pushes in, your back arches and a choked moan escapes you. He’s too big. Too deep. Too much.

And it feels so good.

He doesn’t start slow. There’s no gentle rhythm. He’s been holding back for days, maybe weeks, and now he’s unhinged.

“You’re taking it,” he snarls. “So fuckin’ greedy for my cock.”

Your legs are spread wide, your back pressed to the cold countertop, his fingers bruising into your hips as he pounds into you. You can feel every drag, every twitch. His eyes are locked on your belly.

“Gonna fuck a baby into you,” he pants. “Gonna fill you till you’re leaking down your thighs.”

Your body pulses at his words, and that’s when it happens.

You squirt around him without warning, a high-pitched cry ripping from your throat as your vision blurs. He groans deep and slams in harder, wetter sounds filling the kitchen.

“Fuck yes,” he growls. “Milk my cock, baby. Take it all. You’re gonna make me come so deep.”

And then he’s there—hips jerking, cock buried to the hilt, coming inside you with a raw, broken sound. His hands tremble as he holds you in place, making sure none of it spills.

You’re both shaking. Covered in sweat. And he still doesn’t pull out.

Instead, he slides out just enough to watch his cum drip from you… then pushes it back in with his thumb.

“Look at that,” he whispers. “Didn’t even pull out. What if that was it? What if I just made you a mama?”

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Because your body is already clenching again, needing more.

And Harry—still hard—just grins.

“Round two,” he says, eyes dark. “On the floor. I’m not done with you yet.”

Your legs are still trembling when he lowers you to the cold tile floor. You barely have time to adjust before he drops to his knees between your thighs like a man possessed.

You try to protest—softly, uselessly—something about being too sensitive, too full. But Harry looks up at you, lips shiny, eyes blazing.

“You thought I was done?” he says, voice dark and low. “Not when you’re still dripping with me. Not when this cunt’s still clenching like she’s begging.”

He grabs the backs of your thighs and spreads you wide open, forcing you to hold eye contact.

“Gotta taste what I gave you.”

And then he dives in.

There’s no warm-up, no teasing. His mouth seals around your pussy like it belongs there—tongue lapping greedily at his own cum leaking from your hole. It’s filthy. It’s feral. It makes your head fall back and your mouth open in a silent scream.

“Harry—oh my god—”

“You taste so fuckin’ good with me inside you,” he growls against your cunt, tongue thrusting in, then dragging up to your clit. “Gonna make you squirt again. All over my face this time.”

His fingers join his mouth—two, then three—stretching you open, fucking his cum back inside you while his tongue works your clit in fast, relentless circles.

You try to close your legs. He yanks them apart wider.

“No, baby. You don’t get to hide from this. Let me have it.”

And then it hits you—violent, uncontrollable. You come with a strangled cry, body jerking as you gush all over his mouth. He groans like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, lapping up every drop, completely drenched, and still hungry.

He’s hard again. You feel it before you even open your eyes—his cock rubbing against your soaked folds, slick from your squirt and his spit, twitching with need.

“You’re gonna take it again,” he says, dragging the head of his cock against your sensitive entrance. “One more time, baby. Let me fill you again. Wanna see it dripping twice.”

You don’t even answer. You just whimper and nod, already lifting your hips toward him, aching for more.

He sinks in fast and deep, both of you gasping. It’s too much—too full—but you take it anyway. Your walls flutter around him, overstimulated and stretched wide, and Harry groans at the feeling.

“That’s it, fuckin’ hell—milk my cock again, just like that.”

The thrusts are slower this time but deeper, heavier. He’s watching your belly again. Watching your tits bounce. Watching your face twist in overstimmed pleasure.

“You feel that? My cum still in there? Gonna fuck it in deeper, make sure it sticks.”

Your nails dig into his back. You’re shaking again, on the edge, your pussy pulling him in tighter with every snap of his hips.

“I’m gonna come inside you again, baby,” he pants, hand gripping your throat now—not hard, just enough. “And you’re gonna take it. Let me fuckin’ breed you.”

You shatter again.

Squirting around him as your orgasm explodes through you, crying out his name, soaking his thighs and stomach while your pussy clamps down and pulls him over the edge with you.

He lets out a wrecked, feral moan as he comes inside you again—thick, hot spurts spilling deep until you feel like you can’t hold anymore.

But he doesn’t pull out.

He just presses in deeper. Lets it sit there.

Lets you feel how full you are.

Both of you breathless, tangled, shaking on the floor.

Then his mouth is at your ear.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he whispers, hand sliding down to your belly. “You were made for this. Look at you—overflowing for me.”

And somehow… you love it.

Every messy, filthy, fucked-out second of it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

📝 Author’s Note:

Who else is in their ovulation please with me because omg HELPPPPPP

[nhmkhnh]

Pleaseee write for sevika or caitlyn x virgin reader who finishes stupidly fast and gets all embarrassed about it!!!

this ask was lost in my inbox, sorry for the late reply baby. by the way, the idea is so hot, so i decided to write both haha. (each char for each drabble)

dom!sevika x sub!fem!reader || dom!caitlyn x sub!fem!reader tags: nsfw content ;; virgin reader ;; soft dom!char ;; fingering (r.receiving)

sevika

“relax, sweetheart. i got you.”

her voice is rough velvet as she presses a kiss to your throat, pinning you gently to the bed with her thigh slotted between yours, metal hand gripping the back of your neck. she’s barely even started—just mouthing at your pulse, whispering filth into your ear—and already your hips won’t stop twitching, grinding without rhythm.

you’re so wet it’s embarrassing.

“i’ve barely touched you,” she murmurs, dragging the edge of her teeth up your jaw. “this your first time lettin’ someone take care of you like this?”

you nod.

she chuckles, deep and low. “thought so.”

when her hand dips between your thighs, fingers barely ghosting over your underwear, your whole body jerks. her eyes spark. you grip her bicep like a lifeline.

“s-sorry—” you gasp, already trembling.

“what for?”

you don't get to answer. because that’s when her fingers finally press in just right, rubbing lazy little circles over your clothed clit—

and you’re gone.

your breath shatters. you gasp and cry out, hips bucking forward as your orgasm hits you stupidly fast—barely thirty seconds in, underwear still on. you can’t stop shaking. and when your eyes flutter open, sevika’s watching you like you just handed her a gift.

your face burns. “i—i didn’t mean to—!”

she huffs a laugh and brushes a hand down your chest, so gentle it stings. “shit, baby, that was adorable.”

you hide your face. “don’t make fun of me—”

“i’m not.” her voice drops, low and possessive. “you came just from my voice and a little friction. you know what that does to me?”

she leans in, presses her teeth to your throat.

“round two’s gonna be fun.”

caitlyn kiramman

“darling, you’re shaking.”

caitlyn’s lips ghost over your neck, breath warm and steady, while your body feels like it’s about to explode. you’re spread out on soft silk sheets in her bed, completely bare beneath her. and all she’s done—all she’s done—is kiss you down to your chest, trail her fingers along your thighs, whisper sweet, devastating things about how long she’s wanted this.

“you’ve never been touched here before, have you?” she asks softly, fingertips resting over your mound.

you shake your head.

“that’s alright,” she purrs. “i’ll be gentle. let me make you feel good.”

she leans down. one kiss just below your navel. her hand moves lower, brushing over your slick folds. and when her thumb finds your clit—just the lightest, most teasing pressure—

you whimper. your legs spasm.

“cait—!”

the orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning. your stomach clenches, body trembling, heat exploding outward from that one spot she barely touched. you let out a sob of surprise, and when your senses return, you’re flushed all the way down to your chest.

“i—i’m sorry,” you whisper, voice wrecked. “that was so fast. i didn’t mean to—”

but she’s smiling. soft, stunned.

“oh, sweetheart.” she cradles your face. “don’t you dare apologize.”

you bury your face in her shoulder. she pulls you close, dotting kisses along your cheek, your temple, your lips.

“that was the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen,” she murmurs, voice husky now. “so eager for me, you couldn’t even wait.”

she kisses your lips again, this time deeper.

“let me show you what happens when we don’t rush.”

and this time, you whimper for a different reason.

[blasphemyandbackshots]

“you’ve… done this before?” he asked, quiet, cheeks blazing pink.

you nodded slowly, watching the nerves swim behind those green eyes. “izuku, i want to go slow. i want to make it good for you.”

he looked away for a second. then looked back. like he couldn’t decide whether to be ashamed or excited.

“i’ve… thought about it. with you. just…” his voice dropped to a whisper. “i don’t know what i’m doing.”

you smiled softly and cupped his cheek, climbing into his lap. “you don’t have to know anything, baby. just feel.”

he gasped when you took his shirt off. his whole body trembling under your fingers. you kissed down his chest, whispering how beautiful he was, how sweet, how good, how yours. and when you finally pulled down his briefs? he whimpered.

“p-please,” he mumbled. “don’t laugh or anything.”

you didn’t. you were too busy staring at the way he throbbed for you, flushed and leaking, twitching in anticipation. you pressed a kiss to his tip and watched his eyes roll back.

“shit—!” he cried, grabbing at the sheets. “wait—wait—!”

you smiled, crawling back up and straddling him, letting his cock slide between your folds. “too much?”

he looked up at you with watery eyes and shook his head. “please don’t stop.”

you sank down onto him slowly. he was panting, writhing. tears already threatening at the corners of his eyes.

“baby,” you whispered, rocking your hips gently, “you feel so good. you’re so big, so warm. you’re making me feel so full.”

he moaned, high and sweet, head falling back against the pillow. “i c-can’t—this is—so good—!”

you rolled your hips again, leaning down to kiss his neck. “it’s okay, izuku. just let go. i’ve got you. i’ve got all of you.”

it didn’t take long. you were still moving slow, still riding him deep and tender, when his body tensed under you.

“i—baby—i’m gonna—!” he cried.

you held his face, kissed him deep, and whispered against his lips. “come for me, izuku. just like that.”

and he did, hard. with a desperate, broken moan that made your heart ache. his arms wrapped tight around you, his body shuddering from head to toe. but when you tried to pull off him, he whimpered.

“no—please—stay. i—can go again. i want to make you feel good too. i want to keep going—”

you paused and looked down at him. his curls were sweaty. his lips were kiss-bruised. his cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.

“you want more, baby?”

he nodded, bit his lip. “i don’t wanna stop. not yet. please… ride me again.”

so you did. and the second time he came even harder. whimpering your name like a prayer, tears slipping down his cheeks as he clung to you like you were his whole world.

[rafesgreasycurtainbangs]

Hey I have a request! What do you think about Girlfriend reader hanging up on rafe multiple times during an argument and then he comes over w smut? 🫶🏽xx

THE ARGUMENT . . .

the argument starts over something dumb—rafe’s pissed because you left a couple of coffee mugs in the sink at his place, and you’re firing back that he’s got no right to lecture you about messes when his truck’s a disaster zone of empty beer cans and gym clothes.

it’s one of those fights that’s more about being annoyed than anything real, but you’re in a mood, all bratty and sharp-tongued, and rafe’s not backing down, his voice loud and clipped over the phone. “you’re actin’ like a damn kid,” he snaps, that outer banks drawl thick with frustration. “just clean up your shit, it ain’t that hard.”

“oh, please,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as you pace your apartment, phone pressed to your ear. “you’re not my dad, rafe. maybe if you weren’t such a slob yourself, i’d listen.”

you’re being extra, you know it, but you’re not in the mood to play nice, so you hang up on him, thumb jabbing the red button with a little too much satisfaction.

your phone buzzes almost immediately, his name lighting up the screen, and you let it ring a few times before picking up, just to make him wait. “what?” you say, voice all attitude, and he’s already heated, you can hear it in the way he’s breathing hard.

“don’t fuckin’ hang up on me,” he says, low and tight, like he’s trying to keep it together. “we’re talkin’ this out.”

“are we?” you shoot back, smirking even though he can’t see it. “’cause it sounds like you’re just yelling. i’m not in the mood, rafe.” and you hang up again, tossing your phone on the couch, feeling that petty thrill run through you. it’s childish, sure, but he’s been on your nerves all day, and you’re not about to let him win this one.

he calls back, of course, and this time you let it go to voicemail, watching the screen flash until it stops. a text comes through a second later:

you’re bein’ a real brat, you know that?

you ignore it, flipping on the tv, trying to distract yourself, but there’s a tiny part of you that’s waiting, knowing he’s not gonna let this slide.

later that night, you’re curled up with a glass of wine when there’s a knock at your door, hard and insistent. you don’t even need to check to know it’s him, and when you open it, rafe’s standing there, looking like a kicked puppy. his hair’s a mess, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his eyes are softer than you’ve seen in a while, all red-rimmed and desperate.

“baby,” he starts, voice low, almost broken, and it’s so unlike him it throws you off. “i’m sorry, aight? i fucked up. i shouldn’t’a yelled about the damn mugs, it’s stupid.”

he steps closer, hands twitching like he wants to reach for you but isn’t sure he’s allowed. “been sittin’ at home, and it’s… it’s fuckin’ empty without you. i hate this shit. i need you, okay? i’m losin’ it.”

you cross your arms, still holding onto that bratty edge, chin tilted up. “you didn’t seem sorry when you were yelling at me,” you say, voice sharp, but you’re already softening, the way he’s looking at you—like you’re his whole world—chipping away at your resolve.

“i know,” he says, stepping into your space, his hands finally landing on your hips, tentative at first, then tighter when you don’t pull away. “i was bein’ a dick. i just… i miss you when you’re not there, and i got all fucked up thinkin’ about you bein’ mad at me.”

he’s practically begging now, his voice rough, needy, and it’s so pathetic, so unlike the usual cocky rafe, that you almost feel bad for him. almost.

“you should be sorry,” you say, but your voice is softer now, and he catches it, his eyes lighting up with a glimmer of hope. “i don’t like fighting over stupid shit.”

“me neither,” he murmurs, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your skin. “lemme make it up to you, baby. please.” his hands slide up your sides, and he’s so close you can feel how much he means it, how desperate he is to fix this. “i’ll do whatever you want, just… don’t shut me out.”

you let him kiss you then, soft at first, like he’s afraid you’ll push him away, but when you kiss him back, it’s like a dam breaks. his hands are everywhere, pulling you against him, and he’s murmuring apologies between kisses, his voice thick with that drawl.

all “i’m sorry, baby” and “love you so fuckin’ much.” you’re still a little mad, but it’s hard to stay bratty when he’s like this, all needy and pathetic, like he’d fall apart without you.

he backs you toward the couch, and you let him, your hands in his hair as he kneels between your legs, tugging your shorts down with a kind of reverence that makes your heart skip. “gonna make you feel so good,” he says, voice low, almost a growl, but it’s not cocky now—it’s desperate, like he’s proving something. “my girl deserves everythin’.”

you’re still a little huffy, arms crossed as you look down at him, but the way he’s kissing up your thighs, soft and slow, makes it hard to keep up the act. “you better,” you say, voice sharp, but he just nods, like he’s agreeing with everything you’re saying.

“i will,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin, and when his mouth finally finds you, it’s slow, deliberate, like he’s worshipping you.

his tongue moves in lazy circles, teasing, drawing out every sound you try to hold back, and you can feel him watching you, gauging every reaction. “fuck, you taste so good,” he says, voice muffled, and it’s not his usual dirty talk—it’s raw, like he’s pouring himself into every word.

you’re trying to stay composed, but he’s too good, too focused, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place as he works you, slow and deep, until you’re squirming, your brattiness melting into something softer, needier. “rafe,” you whimper, and he groans, like hearing his name is enough to push him over the edge.

“that’s it, baby,” he says, lips brushing against you as he speaks, his tongue never stopping. “let me take care of you. my perfect fuckin’ girl.” he’s relentless but gentle, building you up until you’re trembling, your hands fisting his hair, your breaths coming fast and shaky.

when you finally come, it’s with a soft cry, your body shaking as he keeps going, drawing it out until you’re oversensitive, pushing at his head. he pulls back, kissing your thighs, your stomach, murmuring, “so good f’me, always so good,” and when he crawls up to kiss you, his lips are wet, his eyes soft and desperate still, like he’s not done proving himself.

“forgive me?” he asks, voice low, his forehead pressed to yours, and you can feel how much he means it, how lonely he must’ve been sitting in that big house without you.

you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “maybe,” you tease, but your voice is soft, and he smiles, kissing you again, like he’s never letting you go.

⩇⩇:⩇⩇

𓂅 taglist ― @littlelamy @dollyfiles @drewstarkeyswife0 @icaqttt @urcoolgf @camercns @pointocean @dsfault @rafestoothbrush @huhidontknowstuff @drewssgirl

[cameronsbabydoll]

BASIC TRAINING — CHAPTER SIX

WARNINGS — Virgin fingering, degradation/praise mix, reader crying (pleasure), power imbalance, explicit sexual content, mild coercion, 18+ only.

The air in the supply closet smells like bleach and dust and Rafe’s cologne—a sharp, dangerous mix that makes your head spin. You’re not sure how you ended up here. Not really. One minute you were fetching printer paper for your dad’s office, arms full of reams, the next Rafe was behind you, his hand on the small of your back, steering you through a door you hadn’t even noticed was half-open.

“Careful, sunshine,” he’d murmured, his voice low, like he was warning you about a spill on the floor instead of trapping you in a room no bigger than a coffin. “Don’t want you tripping over something you can’t handle.”

The door clicked shut behind you.

That was ten seconds ago.

Now you’re pressed against a metal shelf, the edge digging into your hip, your breath coming in shallow little gasps. Rafe’s standing so close his dog tags brush your collarbone when he leans in. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, and his mouth is curved into that same smirk he’s been wearing since the day you stepped off that van. Like he’s won something already.

“You’re shaking again,” he says, voice almost gentle, but there’s an edge to it, sharp enough to cut. “You always this nervous, or is it just me?”

“I—I’m not nervous,” you lie, clutching the shelf behind you like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. Your sundress sticks to your thighs, the fabric damp with sweat. It’s too hot in here. Too small. Too much.

Rafe hums, unconvinced. He steps closer, one boot nudging between your sandals, forcing your legs apart just enough to make you gasp. His hand lifts, slow, deliberate, and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, tracing the shell, then dropping to your jaw, tilting your face up.

“Liar,” he whispers.

You open your mouth to argue—because you’re not, you’re not—but then his lips are on yours, and every thought in your head evaporates like water on asphalt.

It’s not soft. Not sweet. Not like the kisses you’ve imagined, the ones in movies where the guy cups the girl’s face and music swells. Rafe kisses like he’s claiming something, like he’s marking territory. His mouth is hard, insistent, his tongue pushing past your lips before you even know what’s happening. He tastes like spearmint and smoke and something you can’t name, something that makes your knees buckle.

You whimper into his mouth, and he growls—a low, animal sound that vibrates through your chest. His hand slides to your throat, not squeezing, just holding, his thumb pressing against your pulse. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his lips wet, his eyes burning.

“Fuck, you’re sweet,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Taste like goddamn candy.”

You’re dizzy. You’re burning. You’re still clutching the shelf, your knuckles white, your heart hammering so loud you’re sure he can hear it. “R-Rafe,” you stammer, because it’s the only word you know right now, the only anchor you have.

“Shh.” His thumb strokes your throat, slow and deliberate. “Don’t talk, sunshine. Just let me take care of you.”

You don’t know what that means, but you nod anyway. You’re not sure you could say no even if you wanted to. And you don’t. Not really. Not when his other hand is sliding down your side, fingers skimming the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your dress until cool air hits your thighs.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and the words hit you like a drug, warm and liquid, pooling in your belly. You’ve never been called that before—not like this, not with a voice that makes you want to kneel. You’re not sure what’s happening to you, but you know you don’t want it to stop.

His hand moves lower, dipping under the hem of your dress, and you freeze. Your breath catches, your eyes wide, locked on his. He pauses, watching you, waiting for you to pull away, to say something, to stop him. But you don’t. You can’t. You’re trembling, but it’s not fear. It’s something else, something that makes your thighs press together, something that makes you ache.

“Relax,” he says, softer now, but it’s not a request. It’s a command. His fingers brush the inside of your thigh, light at first, teasing, then higher, firmer, until they’re grazing the edge of your panties. “You’re so fucking soft,” he breathes, like it’s a revelation, like he’s just found something he didn’t expect. “Bet you’re even softer here.”

You gasp when his fingers press against you, right there, over the cotton. It’s the first time anyone’s touched you like this, and it’s too much, too intense, too everything. Your legs try to close instinctively, but his knee is there, keeping them open, keeping you exposed.

“Nuh-uh,” he warns, his voice dropping lower, darker. “Keep ‘em open, sunshine. You don’t get to hide from me.”

“I—I don’t—” You don’t know what you’re trying to say. You don’t know anything except the pressure of his fingers, the heat of his breath on your neck, the way your body is betraying you, arching into his touch without your permission.

“Shh,” he says again, and this time his lips brush your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I know what you need. I’ve known since I saw you. All soft and pretty and fucking begging for it.”

His fingers slip under the elastic of your panties, and you choke on a sob. He’s touching you now, really touching you, his fingers slick against your skin, and it’s so overwhelming you think you might break. He groans when he feels you, low and rough, like you’re the one doing something to him.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking wet. This all for me?”

You don’t answer—you can’t—but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s moving now, slow at first, circling, exploring, like he’s learning you. You’re trembling so hard the shelf rattles, and you’re biting your lip to keep from making sounds, but it’s no use. Little whimpers slip out, soft and desperate, and he drinks them in, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth curved like he’s savoring it.

“Look at you,” he says, voice thick with something like pride. “Falling apart already. You ever touch yourself like this, sunshine? Ever make yourself feel good?”

You shake your head, frantic, embarrassed, and he chuckles, dark and low.

“Course you haven’t. Too fucking pure for that, aren’t you?” His fingers press deeper, one slipping inside you, and you cry out, your head tipping back against the shelf. It’s too much, too full, too everything, but he doesn’t stop. He moves slow, deliberate, curling his finger just right, and you feel something building, something you’ve never felt before, something that scares you and thrills you all at once.

“Rafe,” you gasp, and it’s half a plea, half a prayer. You don’t know what you’re asking for—more, less, stop, don’t stop—but he knows. He always knows.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your temple. “Say my name again. Let me hear it.”

“Rafe,” you sob, and he rewards you with another finger, stretching you, filling you, and it hurts a little but it’s good, so good, better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You’re crying now, tears slipping down your cheeks, not because it hurts but because it’s too much, too perfect, too him.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, and his voice is unraveling now, like he’s losing control, like you’re doing something to him. “So fucking tight and perfect. Gonna ruin you, sunshine. Gonna make you mine.”

You don’t know what that means, not really, but it sounds like a promise, like a threat, like something you want more than anything. You’re clinging to him now, your hands fisting his shirt, your hips moving against his hand, chasing something you don’t understand but need, need, need.

“Please,” you whisper, and you don’t even know what you’re begging for, but he does. He always does.

“I got you,” he says, and his thumb finds your clit, circling it, pressing it, and you shatter. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt, like your body’s breaking apart and coming back together all at once, like you’re flying and falling and drowning in him. You sob his name, loud and broken, and he curses under his breath, working you through it, drawing it out, making it last until you’re shaking so hard you can’t stand.

When it’s over, you’re limp against the shelf, your breath ragged, your cheeks wet. Rafe’s still holding you, his fingers still inside you, slow and gentle now, like he’s savoring it. He leans down, kisses your forehead, your nose, your lips, soft and sweet, like he didn’t just wreck you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you whimper, because it’s those words again, that tone, that ownership. “So fucking good for me.”

He pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss, but he’s not done. He lifts his hand, slick with you, and presses his fingers to your lips. “Open,” he says, and you do, because you’re his now, because you don’t know how to be anything else. You taste yourself, salty and strange, and he watches you, eyes dark, like he’s memorizing it.

“Say thank you,” he says, voice low, commanding.

You swallow, your voice hoarse, barely a whisper. “Thank you.”

He smiles, slow and satisfied, and pulls his fingers away. “That’s my girl.”

You’re still shaking when he steps back, adjusting his pants like nothing happened, like he didn’t just change you forever. He picks up the stack of printer paper you dropped, hands it to you, and opens the door.

“Better get back to your dad,” he says, casual, like he’s talking about the weather. “Don’t want him wondering where you are.”

You nod, numb, clutching the paper to your chest like it’s a lifeline. You step out, your legs unsteady, your dress crumpled, your panties damp. You don’t look back, but you feel his eyes on you, burning a hole through your back.

You make it to your dad’s office, set the paper down, and sit at your desk, staring at nothing. Your notebook’s open in front of you, the one Rafe returned, the one you’re too scared to write in now because you don’t know what’s real anymore.

You don’t know who you are anymore.

But you know one thing.

You’re his.

[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

[littlegrapejuice]

Grid Mum 7 | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Kimi gets his first podium, and you're crying like you just witnessed your kid walk for the first time. Bonus: Franco being bullied on a plane.

Author's Note: I'm still so so happy ab kimi's podium, i was fr super proud and i can't wait for him to get others + for the rest of the rookies to get one in the future🤍

F1 MASTERLIST🏎 | Previous Part | Next Part

Kimi didn’t care about what people would think. He didn’t care about how it would look when his first instinct after hugging his team was to make his way towards the sea of Red Bull employees. Because amongst those employees who were here in parc fermé to celebrate Max’s P2, there was you.

Your smile was wide, cheeks almost hurting. And as soon as your eyes met Kimi’s, you grinned harder – if that was even possible.

“You did it!” You told Kimi once his arms were around you.

“I did it!” He echoed your words. His voice was muffled by his helmet, but the happiness and joy were obvious.

Pulling back from his embrace, your hands went to hold Kimi’s helmet. The rookie noticed that your eyes were tearing up a bit, and his couldn’t help but do the same too.

“That was a wonderful race, Kimi. I’m so proud of you.” Your tone was soft, conveying how genuine you were.

“Thank you!” Kimi’s eyes were enough to express his gratitude for your support, and they showed that he was smiling under his helmet. When someone from his team called him for his post-race duties before the podium, he quickly turned towards the voice then met your eyes once again. “Bye, I love you!” Next thing you know, he was gone from your side.

It wasn’t supposed to be such a big deal that Kimi was saying that he loved you – you had been mothering him since the season had started and had supported him through his unfortunately numerous DNFs. But still, it made you feel warm inside.

You observed as Kimi hugged George once again before Max went to congratulate him as well. You obviously would’ve loved to see your boyfriend winning this race, but this would definitely be one of your favourite podiums of the year – it wasn’t everyday that one of your grid kids featured on it. And such a wholesome scene it was to watch, as Max had a wide smile on his face while spraying Kimi with champagne. The tension between him and George had dissipated despite the accusations they had made against each other during the safety car earlier. They were just both enjoying their podiums and appreciating their own success – they also had to play pretend at being a happy little family to not ruin Kimi’s first podium.

You were truly over the moon for both Max and Kimi, so you obviously wanted to celebrate with them. And despite Kimi desperately wishing he could say yes, he had been forced to refuse:

“I can’t go partying… I got homework”, he reminded you as he thought about his final exams awaiting him.

“Then we’ll celebrate later if you graduate”, Max said with a shrug.

“When you graduate”. You sent a look to Max, one that meant to be invested in Kimi’s education even if Max’s hadn’t been his focus years ago.

“Yeah… if, when… same thing.”

“It’s not!” You and Kimi both argued.

“Have some faith in me, mate. I studied hard for this”, Kimi claimed.

“We studied hard”, George added as he joined the conversation.

“You’re not the one doing the exam, though. Not sure you could even manage”, you teased him.

“Please, I could ace it.” George raised an eyebrow at you, a challenging look in his eyes. “Could you?”

“I’m pretty sure I helped Kimi more than you did. Weren’t you the one who delegated the work to the engineers?”

You and George held eye contact for several seconds, neither of you looking away. That was until Kimi intervened.

“Okay guys, please no weird tension.” Kimi waved his hand in front of your and George’s faces, thus breaking the eye contact between the two of you. “Max and George finally figured their shit out – kinda, I don’t need another Verstappen-Russell fall out.”

“Good thing I ain’t a Verstappen, then.”

Yet, Max wanted to add. Even Kimi and George thought the same thing, both of them knowing that it was only a matter of time before it would eventually happen. You were practically one already, and it wasn’t an actual change in last names or a ring on your finger that would ever affect how you relationship with Max already was.

…..

Despite you skipping the F1: The Movie premiere in NYC, it almost felt like you were there with how much the rookies were talking about you. Due to the drivers all going to the same place, it made sense that some of them would be sharing a plane. So that was how Ollie, Franco, and Gabriel ended up travelling together with Lando.

“You should’ve forced her to come with us if you were gonna miss her that much”, Lando complained. He was so close to texting you to leave Max wherever he was and to come get your kids.

“Max didn’t want to come so… whose plus one she would’ve even been?” Ollie asked. “I have my girlfriend already.”

“Same,” Gabriel said with a nod.

“I would have gladly taken her if I didn’t care about the risks of Max running me off track once the pictures would be released. Imagine this: Max’s girlfriend was Lando’s plus one at the premiere, I’m done for!”

“I could have taken her”, Franco chimed in.

“Oh trust me, we know.” Gabriel rolled his eyes at Franco's words, and leaned back in his seat.

Lando and Ollie looked at each other, not sure whether they understood what was going on.

“Are we missing something?” Lando wondered.

Gabriel opened his mouth to explain the situation, before Franco interrupted him:

“Nothing’s going on, no. You’re not missing any vital piece of information.” Franco put on his best innocent smile and tried to think of a way to change the topic.

“That’s a lie”, Gabriel argued. “See, little Franco there did the only thing we had told him not to.”

“Which was?” Lando asked.

But Gabriel didn’t even have time to reply, that Ollie immediately understood what had happened.

“You did not?!” His accusatory tone was directed towards Franco, as Ollie couldn’t believe it.

“Maybe…?” Franco looked away, not liking his business being aired out.

“When was it?” Ollie questioned both Gabriel and Franco, his eyes darting between the two rookies.

“When was what?” Lando was completely lost, and he was definitely not enjoying being excluded from the drama.

“We gave one rule to Franco before Imola,” Ollie finally explained. “Just one tiny little rule.”

“Don’t flirt with Max’s girlfriend”, Gabriel added.

“Okay.” Lando was carefully listening and nodding, showing his investment in the story. “And how long did it take him to break it? Two, three weeks?”

“A day”, Gabriel said.

“A day?” Ollie repeated. “That’s insane, Franco. Imola was…” Ollie started counting in his head, to figure out when it had happened. “More than a month ago! We should revoke any grid mum privilege you’ve ever had.”

“I didn’t have many to start with”, Franco muttered.

“Does Max know?” Lando had no idea whether he expected a positive or negative answer, just wanting to know more about the situation.

“He apparently threatened Franco”, Gabriel explained with a snicker.

“That was traumatising. I had Mad Max in front of me,” Franco dramatised.

“Now that’s something I would’ve liked to see!” Lando started laughing, imagining how Max had intimidated the young driver. “He hasn't driven you into the wall since then, though. So consider him being generous with you.”

“Wanna know what I think?” When the three drivers nodded, Ollie shared his thoughts. “I feel like Max didn’t actually see you as a real threat. Sure you tried to flirt with his girlfriend–”

“Extremely fucked up of you to do that”, Gabriel interrupted Ollie to add his comment.

“Agreed. But yeah, Max is definitely not the guy to get insecure. He knew you had no real chance anyways”, Ollie finished explaining.

“Damn… you have no game, mate.”

“Lando, please don’t bully me as well.” Franco sighed. “I have game! But obviously, it works better when I’m not going after a taken woman!”

“We have yet to see this skill of yours this year”, Gabriel teased.

“Oh God…” Franco groaned as he put his head in his hands.

The Argentinian wouldn’t hear the end of it until the plane had landed. And he knew that once Isack as well as Liam would know, those two would definitely gang up on him too – spoiler: they did.

…..

Meanwhile, in Belgium…

Max had offered you to come see him race in Spa, and you had gladly accepted to show him your support while he pursued this new interest of his. You hadn’t given it a second thought, not really caring about missing the F1: The Movie premiere. Max might have taken you if you had truly wanted to go, but he hadn’t hidden at all the satisfied grin on his face when you had told him that you didn’t want to see Brad Pitt overtake your boyfriend and win all the races that Max had actually won last year.

So while most of the drivers were on their way to New York, you and Max were currently on your way to Spa after a quick pit stop back home. You had just finished typing a text to wish Kimi luck for his final exams, when your nose suddenly started itching right before your body forced you to sneeze.

“Bless you”, Max simply said without looking up from his phone. “Hope no one’s talking badly about you.”

“It might just be allergies”, you argued.

“Or the rookies not being able to shut up about you”, Max teased.

It was honestly your allergies acting up, but Max was also not wrong to trust a silly superstition for once.

..........

Taglist: @umm-i-love-u @callsign-mirage @freyathehuntress @elieanana @suns3treading @fastandcurious16 @l3thal-l0lita @urmomsgirlfriend1 @guacala @delululeclerc

Hope y'all enjoyed this!! I'm honestly loving writing short chaps in between double/triple headers bc it's like a nice change of pace so don't hesitate to tell me if y'all like them too :)

I think isack was acc on the same plane as them (idk ab liam bc bro appears nowhere) but when i eventually noticed, it was too late to change and i was too lazy to add him🤗

Also we reached 500 followers!! It still feels insane that there are this many people supporting me and my silly fics so thanks y'all🫶🏻🫶🏻

See you soon, take care of yourselves, love y'all xx

[nocturnebite]

Someone Like You ౨ৎ

(Its always been you) - bestfriend!enha (ot7) x fem!reader

synopsis: You’ve had enough of bad dates and bare-minimum effort. But when your best friend shows up for you in their own soft, thoughtful way… you start to wonder why you’ve never looked at them like that. Turns out, they’ve been waiting for you to. fic notes: friends to lovers || comfort & fluff || soft confessions || bad date recovery || dreamy slowburn mutual pining || emotional support kings wc: about 800ish per member (5.7k total)

ash's notes: heyy back again! this one was so fun for me to write, i'm a sucker for friends to lovers troupes.. especially when it's "they knew all along". get me a man like this PLEASE.. enjoy :3

౨ৎ Heeseung - You always know

The door clicks softly behind you as you slump inside your apartment, heels dangling from your hand, mascara slightly smudged from the stress of the night. Another date gone wrong. Another charming-on-text loser who spent more time talking about himself than asking a single question about you. At one point he even took a call at the table. You’d sat there swirling a straw in a watered-down drink, wishing you were literally anywhere else.

You drop your bag by the couch and sigh into the quiet. It hums back at you with the same kind of hollow loneliness you’ve gotten too used to.

Your fingers tap against your phone screen before you even think about it.

you: had another trash date lol sorry if im bothering u just rly bummed out

You don’t expect a reply right away. But before you can even toss your phone aside, it buzzes.

hee ౨ৎ: open the door

You blink. Then look up.

Another buzz.

hee ౨ৎ: i was already on my way. figured something was up

Heart hiccuping, you shuffle to the door, unlocking it slowly—and there he is. Hoodie half-zipped, hair tousled like he just left in a hurry, one hand clutching your favorite takeout and the other carrying a fuzzy blanket you've been trying to steal from him for weeks.

“I didn’t know if you’d eaten,” Heeseung says, stepping inside like he always belongs here. He doesn't wait for an answer, just sets everything down on the coffee table and opens his arms.

You melt.

Your face tucks into the curve of his neck like it’s muscle memory. He’s warm and steady and smells like laundry detergent and vanilla and home.

You mumble, “You really were already on your way?”

“Mmhm,” he hums against your hair. “Just had a feeling.”

You don’t even question it. He always knows.

You eat curled up on opposite ends of the couch, his long legs tangled with yours under the blanket. He doesn’t ask about the date. He doesn’t need to. He just listens while you vent, eyes soft, gaze focused on you like you’re the only thing that matters.

Eventually, you’re lying with your head in his lap while he scrolls through movies on the TV.

“Something comforting,” he murmurs, already queuing up your favorite. “The one with the sad girl who finds herself and the cottage with the vines—”

“That’s a romance,” you whisper, half-laughing.

Heeseung just smirks. “Exactly.”

As the movie plays, you watch him in the flickering light — the soft shadows against his jawline, the slight smile when a familiar line hits, the way he rests his hand gently over your arm like he wants to keep you tethered here with him.

And somewhere between your chest aching and your heart warming, it slips out.

“Why can’t the guys I date be more like you…”

Heeseung flinches.

The remote fumbles in his hand and clatters to the ground with a sharp clack.

Your eyes widen. He stiffens. “Oops—uh. Sorry.” He leans down too fast to grab it, smacking his head lightly on the table and cursing under his breath.

You blink at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just—clumsy.” He clears his throat, setting the remote back carefully like it might explode again. His ears are glowing pink.

You stare at him, heart thudding.

He doesn’t look at you. Just leans back against the couch and mutters, “Want me to rewind the movie?”

You pause. “No. I’m good.”

He nods, quiet.

But the atmosphere has changed. Charged. He’s still close, still comforting, but his posture’s too stiff now, too careful, like he’s thinking too hard about breathing near you.

Later, when the movie ends and you both sit in the hush of the credits, you speak again.

“I just…” you whisper, watching the glow from the screen reflect in his eyes. “I wish I could find someone who treats me like you do. You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

Heeseung freezes.

Then turns to you slowly, expression unreadable. His voice is low.

“Then why don’t you date me?”

You laugh, confused. “What—”

“I’m serious.”

You blink.

His eyes are locked on yours. No teasing. No smirk. Just honest, vulnerable silence.

“You’re serious?” you whisper.

He nods once. “I’ve always known it was you. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

Your heart leaps into your throat. And then—flutters.

His fingers inch toward yours, tentative, until they’re brushing lightly, and when you don’t pull away, he laces them together.

“I didn’t think…” You breathe out. “I didn’t think you felt the same.”

“I do.” Heeseung smiles softly, then leans forward until your foreheads touch. “I have. Every time I showed up for you, every night I stayed over just to keep you company, every moment I wished you’d look at me like that…”

You do now.

And this time, when he leans in — slow, careful, trembling with hope — you meet him halfway.

౨ৎ Jay - The way you look at me

You’re already in tears by the time you leave the restaurant.

Not the dramatic, mascara-running kind. Just the quiet, aching kind — the ones that slip out even when you don’t want them to. This one stung a little more than usual. The guy didn’t just talk over you — he insulted your interests, made snide jokes about “emotional girls,” and scoffed when you said you wanted something real. It left you wondering if you were asking for too much.

You don’t text Jay.

You don’t have to.

The second your key turns in the door, the smell hits you — warm, comforting, something buttery and spiced — like childhood and safety all rolled into one.

You step inside and blink.

Jay stands in your kitchen in a dark t-shirt, sleeves pushed to his elbows, a striped apron tied lazily around his waist. He looks up like he’s been caught red-handed.

“I was gonna text and say come over,” you mumble.

“I figured you’d need something sooner,” he says simply, stirring the pan once before lowering the heat. “So I let myself in.”

Your chest tightens.

There’s a pot on the stove, steam rising lazily from it. A pan of something golden browning beside it. Plates already set. A candle burning low.

“You made—” Your voice cracks. “You made the pasta?”

“The one you said reminds you of your mom’s.” He shrugs, trying to seem casual. “You sounded tired last time we talked. Thought you’d need it tonight.”

Your throat feels too full to respond. You cross the kitchen slowly, eyes burning in that way that says thank you without the words.

He glances at you. “You okay?”

You nod.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head, stepping behind him, letting your arms wrap around his middle as you press your face into his back. He stills, surprised—but only for a moment. Then one of his hands reaches down to cover yours.

“You’re not asking for too much,” he says softly, like he’s already guessed the thing you didn’t say.

You don’t speak. You just hold on tighter.

Dinner is quiet, the way it always is when you’re feeling raw and Jay is being careful with you — soft glances, gentle hands when he passes the parmesan, a million unspoken things in every motion. Afterward, he makes tea and sets up the couch for a movie night without asking.

“You pick,” he says, stretching across the cushions to pass you the remote.

You curl under the throw blanket and sigh, not even looking at the screen.

Jay turns his head toward you. “Wanna do nothing instead?”

You nod.

So you sit. Shoulder to shoulder. Familiar and close and quiet.

After a while, he gets up and starts tidying the kitchen. And that’s when you catch yourself watching.

The way he moves—careful, confident, focused. The way he takes his time with everything. The soft hum in his throat as he dries dishes. The way he set aside the last bite of garlic bread because he knew it was your favorite.

And suddenly, something slips out.

“I wish the guys I went out on dates with were more like.. you.”

The sound of ceramic shattering on tile cuts the air in half.

You jump.

Jay freezes mid-motion, staring down at the cracked plate on the floor like it betrayed him. “Shit—sorry.” He crouches quickly to clean it, not looking at you.

You rush to help. “It’s okay, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s—” He’s already sweeping the pieces into his hand, face turned so you can’t see it. “It’s fine.”

But his hands are trembling.

You blink. “Jay?”

He doesn’t answer.

You touch his wrist lightly. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

He finally looks at you, and it’s like the air has changed again — his expression unreadable, jaw tight, eyes searching yours for something you don’t quite understand.

You try to laugh it off, suddenly self-conscious. “Sorry, that was kind of a weird thing to say.”

Jay finishes sweeping and stands slowly, leaning against the counter like he needs a second to think.

Then you say it again, more quietly. “You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

He lets out a breath — sharp, disbelieving.

“Don’t say that,” he murmurs.

You blink. “Why not?”

“Because…” He looks at you like you’ve cracked something in him. “I’ve been trying so hard not to say it first.”

The silence that follows is thick.

You stare. “Say what?”

Jay steps toward you, then stops — unsure, unreadable.

“That I’m in love with you,” he says quietly. “That I’ve been in love with you. That every time you cry about some guy who couldn’t see how lucky he was, it kills me because I’m right here. And I’ve been here.”

Your lips part, but you can’t speak.

He runs a hand through his hair, eyes wild and warm and terrified. “I know you weren’t ready. And I never wanted to make you feel like you had to see me that way, but tonight—” His voice softens. “Tonight you looked at me like you finally saw what I’ve been trying to show you this whole time.”

Your heart thunders.

You had looked at him that way. You’d always admired him — his calm, his kindness, the fire in him that always warmed you up when you felt too cold. You just never thought…

“I didn’t think you’d want me,” you whisper.

Jay’s breath catches. “I’ve always wanted you.”

He takes another step.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to lose you. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t want more than this.”

You look at him—really look at him—and all the times he showed up for you play in your mind like flashes of sunlight.

Slowly, you take his hand. It’s still a little shaky, but when you hold on, he steadies.

You whisper, “What if I want more too?”

He doesn’t speak. He just pulls you in and kisses your forehead, gently, reverently—like he’s waited a lifetime for this moment to finally arrive.

౨ৎ Jake - Never not you

It starts with your phone vibrating on your chest, just as your eyes are starting to sting from holding back tears too long.

You don’t check the screen. You don’t want to talk to anyone. You just stare at the ceiling of your bedroom, replaying the disaster of tonight’s date — the awkward silences, the backhanded compliments, the fake polite goodbye at the end. All you wanted was someone who’d make you feel seen. Instead, you feel lonelier than before.

Another buzz.

Then another.

Then a knock at your door.

You sit up, confused, wiping your eyes.

“Delivery?” you mumble, shuffling to open it.

But it’s not food.

It’s Jake.

He’s standing there, hair a little windblown, hoodie zipped up halfway and cheeks pink from the chill. In one hand, he’s holding a small bouquet of fresh wildflowers. In the other, a bag from your favorite bakery—the one that’s only open late on Fridays.

“I was already on my way,” he says softly. “Something told me you needed me.”

Your bottom lip wobbles.

You don’t cry, but you do fold into him the second he opens his arms.

He doesn’t say anything. Just hugs you so tight it’s like he’s holding together all the parts of you that want to fall apart.

Twenty minutes later, you’re in your pajamas under a mountain of blankets on the couch. The warm scent of baked pastries fills the air. Jake’s got your feet in his lap, his thumbs gently massaging the arch like he’s trying to erase all the tension of the night.

You’re both watching one of those cheesy rom-coms he secretly loves more than you do, though he always pretends otherwise.

“Tonight sucked,” you mutter.

He doesn’t ask for details. He just leans back, still holding your feet. “He didn’t see you, did he?”

You glance at him. “How do you always know?”

Jake shrugs one shoulder. “Because if he had, you’d be smiling. You always light up when someone gets you.”

Your breath catches. You don’t respond. You just look at him.

His profile is soft in the glow of the TV. There’s a slight crease in his brow, like he’s still worried. You want to reach out and smooth it with your thumb.

Instead, you say quietly, “Why can’t guys be more like you…”

Jake stills.

His eyes don’t leave the screen, but his fingers stop moving.

You sit up a little, trying to meet his eyes. “Seriously. You’re so thoughtful. You always know what I need. You never make me feel like I’m too much or not enough—”

Jake suddenly fumbles the pastry bag in his lap and spills the last croissant right onto the floor.

“Ah..shit—sorry,” he blurts, scrambling to grab it. He drops the tongs trying to pick it up.

You blink. “You okay?”

“Fine!” he squeaks. Then clears his throat and tries to play it off. “Yeah. Just… butter fingers.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He nods a little too quickly. “Totally. I just… wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

You tilt your head. “Say what?”

He carefully places the rescued croissant on a napkin, still not looking at you. “That you wish guys were like me.”

Your voice softens. “Well… I do.”

The silence stretches, almost like the room’s holding its breath with you.

And then, because the ache in your chest is too much to sit with, you add, “You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

Jake turns to you, eyes wide.

He looks like you just told him the moon said his name.

Then, very quietly, he says, “Then… why not me?”

Your heart skips.

You blink. “Wait..what..? Are you serious?”

He nods, slowly this time. The corners of his mouth twitch up—hopeful, nervous, a little amazed you haven’t laughed him off yet.

“I know we’ve been best friends forever,” he says gently, “but I’ve loved you for almost as long. I didn’t want to ruin what we had by saying anything. But it’s you. It’s never not been you.”

Your lips part. “Jake…”

“I didn’t want to be another guy who hurt you,” he whispers, voice shaking a little. “I wanted to be the one who reminded you how loved you are. I just never thought you’d actually—feel the same.”

You swallow hard.

Your chest is doing that tight fluttery thing again. Because you do. Deep down, you’ve always known it. The way you’d light up when his name appeared on your phone. The way his laugh made everything easier. The way you looked for him in every crowd.

You whisper, “I think I’ve always wanted it to be you.”

Jake beams.

Not a smirk. Not a flirty grin. A full, radiant, stunned smile like you’ve just made his entire year.

He reaches for your hand, then changes his mind and gently cups your cheek instead, brushing his thumb just under your eye.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks quietly, breathlessly.

You nod.

And when he leans in, it’s slow and sweet and full of every unspoken thing you’ve both carried for so long. And when he pulls back just barely, lips still brushing yours, he murmurs,

“You’re my favorite everything.”

౨ৎ Sunghoon - Say something

It’s late.

The kind of late where the streets outside are quiet and your bedroom ceiling is glowing dimly with the light of passing cars. You’re curled up under a blanket in your hoodie, trying not to cry but very much failing. Again.

The guy from tonight wasn’t mean, exactly. Just… indifferent. He scrolled through his phone when you talked. Showed up twenty minutes late with no explanation. Didn’t even pretend to walk you home.

And maybe it wouldn’t sting so much if it didn’t feel like a pattern.

You don’t text anyone. You just throw your phone facedown and try to forget it.

Until, barely five minutes later, there’s a knock at your window.

You freeze.

Another knock.

You scramble out of bed and yank the curtains aside — and there he is.

Sunghoon. In his gray zip-up and a beanie pulled low over his brows, standing on your fire escape holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate and a very unimpressed expression.

You open the window with wide eyes. “What the—Hoon??”

“I figured he’d flake,” he says flatly, climbing in like this is something he does every day. “You ghosted the group chat. That’s never a good sign.”

You blink as he hands you one of the cups.

“I made it with that fancy cocoa you like,” he mumbles. “With the cinnamon.”

You stare at him.

Sunghoon doesn't meet your eyes. He just kicks off his shoes and settles onto your bed like it’s his.

“I didn’t get ghosted,” you say quietly, sitting beside him.

He nods. “But you are sad.”

You sip the cocoa. “How do you always know?”

He shrugs. “You always blink a lot when you’re trying not to cry.”

Your throat tightens.

Silence passes for a bit. Your room is dim, your fairy lights casting soft little shadows across his jawline. You watch him — the way his hands cradle the mug, the furrow in his brows even now. He’s always like this. A little standoffish. A little too observant. And yet always there the second you fall apart.

And maybe it’s the warmth in your hands, or the fact that you’re so, so tired of being disappointed — but the words come out before you can stop them.

“Why can’t guys be more like you…”

He freezes.

Like actually freezes.

No blink. No breath. Just wide, stunned deer-in-headlights stillness.

Then he promptly chokes on his hot chocolate.

You lunge to pat his back. “Hoon??”

“I’m good—” cough cough “Totally fine—” cough “Jesus—”

You bite back a laugh. “You don’t look fine.”

“I’m great.” He clears his throat aggressively and looks everywhere but at you. “Just… went down the wrong pipe.”

“Mmhmm,” you say, clearly not buying it.

He shifts on the bed, suddenly tense. “You… didn’t mean that, right?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He swallows, hard.

You lean back against the pillows, watching him over the rim of your cup. “Seriously. You’re thoughtful, reliable, good with your words—when you use them—”

“Okay—”

“You always show up when I need you,” you add, voice soft now. “You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

Sunghoon just stares at you.

You don’t even realize how intense your gaze is until he finally looks away, the tips of his ears glowing red.

“You’re messing with me,” he mutters.

“No, I’m not.”

He sets down his cup slowly. His voice is quieter when he says, “Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean them.”

You sit up straighter. “But I do mean it.”

Sunghoon finally meets your eyes, and there’s something raw there now. Something just barely holding itself together.

And then, because he’s Sunghoon and horrible at vulnerability, he blurts:

“Then maybe you should date me.”

Your mouth opens. “What?”

He looks away again, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

You reach for his hand before he can pull it away. “Sunghoon. Look at me.”

He hesitates—then does. And your heart cracks wide open.

“I want to say yes,” you whisper.

He blinks. “You do?”

You nod. “I didn’t think you liked me that way.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever look at me that way,” he breathes. “You’re always chasing guys who treat you like crap. Meanwhile, I’m here, dying every time you tell me about them, and all I want to do is tell you they don’t deserve you.”

“You should’ve said something.”

“I was scared.” His voice rises slightly, then softens again. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. But tonight… when you said that…”

He pauses, then lets out a soft breath.

“I wanted to kiss you so bad I forgot how to breathe.”

Your eyes soften. You shift closer.

“Then don’t forget now.”

He stares at you.

And then he kisses you.

It’s tentative at first — almost like he doesn’t believe it’s happening — but it grows, slow and sure and full of everything he’s held back for so long.

When you pull apart, you press your forehead against his and whisper,

“You know you can come through the door next time, right?”

He grins. “Where’s the fun in that?”

౨ৎ Sunoo - If only you knew

You don’t say anything when the door swings open.

You just step inside, drop your purse on the floor, and crawl straight onto the couch face-down, muffling a scream into the cushions.

There's silence.

Then the sound of slippers shuffling quickly across hardwood.

Then:

“Oh no. Which flavor of man failed you this time?”

You peek out of the couch to see Sunoo standing over you in an oversized sweatshirt, hair in a clip, face cream still dotted on his cheeks like he was mid-self-care ritual when you texted the dreaded “can I come over”.

You groan. “The worst one.”

He gasps. “Worse than finance bro?”

“Worse than vape in the Uber guy.”

“Girl.”

“I know.”

Sunoo lets out the most offended noise you've ever heard and immediately shuffles toward the kitchen. “I’m making tea. And I’m putting on that sad cottage movie you like. You’re not allowed to argue.”

You don’t.

You just melt further into the couch and let yourself exhale.

Because somehow, Sunoo always knows exactly what to do when the world feels heavy.

By the time the kettle whistles, you’ve been tucked in with three blankets and a stuffed animal you pretend isn’t yours.

Sunoo returns with a tray of snacks, two mugs of tea, and a disgusted look on his face.

“So what did he do? Tell me everything. I’m ready to judge.”

You shake your head. “He… didn’t even try, Nuu.”

He sets the tray down and climbs onto the couch beside you. “Try what?”

“To know me. To see me. I spent half the night trying to think of things to talk about. It felt like I was trying to impress someone who couldn’t care less.”

Sunoo's eyes narrow. “Should I fight him?”

You let out a laugh — small, watery.

He leans his head on your shoulder. “You know you’re not hard to love, right?”

You stay quiet.

Sunoo reaches for your hand under the blanket and squeezes it. “Some people just don’t know what they’re holding until it’s gone.”

You glance at him, heart aching.

He’s right here. Warm and thoughtful and sharp as ever. He always has been.

And somehow, you whisper it before you can think better of it.

“I wish guys were more like you…”

You feel him tense.

He sits up, blinking, and nearly spills the tray trying to set his cup down.

You blink back. “Nuu?”

“Did you mean that?” he says quickly, voice just slightly higher than usual.

“I—yeah?”

He just stares at you, lips parted, like his brain has fully exited the building.

You sit up. “Why does that freak you out so much?”

Sunoo clears his throat, crosses his legs, and clasps his hands like he's giving a TED talk to himself. “No no I’m fine. Totally calm. Just casually losing my mind that the person I’m in love with just said that.”

You blink. “Wait. What.”

He freezes.

You gape. “You’re in love with me??”

“OH MY GOSH,” he says, loudly, throwing a pillow over his own face. “FORGET I SAID THAT—”

“Nuu!” You pull the pillow away and stare at him, heart pounding.

He groans. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out, okay?! It’s not like I planned to tell you after a garbage date like some B-list plot twist—”

“You’re in love with me?”

He falters, looks at you properly — flushed, anxious, but still so Sunoo.

“…Yeah,” he whispers. “I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

Your chest tightens.

“You… never said anything.”

He gives a tiny, shy shrug. “You were always dating someone. I didn’t want to confuse things. Or ruin us.”

“But you always—” Your voice cracks. “You always take care of me.”

He smiles sadly. “Because I want to. Because you deserve someone who actually shows up when it counts.”

You look at him — really look at him — and suddenly, all the late nights, all the surprise coffee deliveries, all the “I brought your favorite just because” texts make perfect, blinding sense.

And suddenly, this feels like the only real thing you’ve ever known.

“I think…” you whisper, “I’ve been in love with you too. I just didn’t let myself believe it.”

Sunoo blinks, stunned.

“You what?”

“I kept waiting for someone who’d treat me like you do,” you murmur, leaning in. “I just didn’t think that person could be you.”

“Why not?! I’m amazing!”

You laugh through a tear.

He grins, then cups your face with both hands. “You’re an idiot,” he says, but so fondly it makes your stomach flip.

Then, very softly, “Can I kiss you now?”

You nod, heart in your throat.

He kisses you like he’s waited a lifetime — careful, steady, warm. When he pulls away, you’re still smiling.

He brushes your hair behind your ear and whispers, “You’re never going to cry over another date again.”

“Because you’re going to fight them?”

“No.” He grins. “Because you’re done dating losers. You’re dating me now.”

౨ৎ Jungwon - What took you so long 

You don’t expect anyone to be waiting when you get home.

Your date was forgettable in the worst way — vague answers, barely-there eye contact, the kind of guy who asked questions only to talk about himself. You left early and walked home alone under a gray sky, the city lights blurred through a curtain of drizzle.

You don’t text anyone. You don’t want to talk. You just want the night to be over.

So when you push open your apartment door and find Jungwon sitting on your couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands and a small box of takeout on his lap, you stop in your tracks.

He looks up casually. “You didn’t answer my texts.”

You blink. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“I figured you’d need me.”

The way he says it — need me — sinks under your skin like something dangerous.

You walk in slowly, wet hair dripping onto your shirt, and collapse onto the couch beside him without a word.

“I brought your favorite,” he adds, offering the box. “That noodle thing you get when you’re upset but pretending not to be.”

You take it silently, the warmth of the container grounding you.

He doesn’t ask what happened. He doesn’t have to.

A while later, you’re curled up together under the same blanket, the food half-eaten and a soft playlist humming through the room. You’re both quiet, the way you always are when things get too heavy to name.

You tilt your head toward him.

Jungwon’s watching the rain trail down the window, his profile lit faintly by the glow of the streetlights. One arm rests behind your head, casual but close enough that your shoulders touch. Always close. Always almost.

“You know,” you say softly, “you’d make the perfect boyfriend.”

He blinks.

Then — too quickly — he shifts.

The blanket slips from his shoulder as he moves to set his drink down, knocking over a napkin in the process. He fumbles it. Misses. Swears quietly under his breath.

You blink. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he mumbles. Then, softer, “Just… surprised you’d say that.”

You smile faintly. “Why?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes flick toward yours, unreadable. “Because you’re always chasing guys who aren’t me.”

The words land like a pin dropped in a still room.

You stare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungwon lets out a long breath, then looks at you fully — not shy, not sarcastic, not teasing. Just… honest.

“It means I’ve been here this whole time,” he says quietly. “Watching you get your heart broken over and over and wishing you’d just look at me.”

Your heart lurches.

“Jungwon…”

“I didn’t say anything because I thought maybe you already knew,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper. “But tonight, when you said that—when you said that—I couldn’t not say it anymore.”

You don’t speak. You’re not sure you can.

“I know I’m quiet about how I feel,” he murmurs. “But I show up. I always show up for you. Because I love you. And I’ve been loving you quietly for so long, I don’t know how to stop.”

Something cracks open in your chest.

You reach out, almost without thinking, fingers brushing his wrist. “I think I’ve always loved the way you love me,” you whisper. “I just didn’t realize that’s what it was.”

He exhales shakily.

And then — like gravity pulling him forward — he leans in, resting his forehead against yours. His voice is soft, barely trembling:

“I’ve been yours for a long time.”

You whisper, “Then maybe it’s time I caught up.”

౨ৎ Ni-ki - Not just a phase

The rain has stopped by the time you make it to his place.

You’re soaked anyway — not just from the weather, but from the date that ended in a fight over whether your standards were “too high.”

You didn’t cry this time.

Not until you walked home in the drizzle and realized how tired you were of pretending the bare minimum was enough.

You’re still blinking away the sting when the door swings open.

Ni-ki stands there in a hoodie and pajama pants, hair messy from sleep, one wireless headphone still in. He blinks once. Takes in your face.

Then without a word, he grabs your wrist and pulls you in.

“You look cold,” he mumbles, already guiding you toward the couch. “Sit. I’ll get the fluffy blanket.”

You don’t even argue. You just drop onto the cushions and watch as he disappears down the hall.

You don’t remember when it started—this instinct he has. This quiet caretaking. One second you’re friends who bicker over cereal brands and game scores, and the next he’s handing you tissues without asking. Wrapping you in the same blanket he used to cocoon himself in during movie nights. Like you’ve always belonged here, even if no one ever said it.

Ni-ki returns with the blanket and throws it over your shoulders, his hands lingering for a second too long.

He doesn’t ask what happened.

He just sits beside you, legs sprawled out, staring ahead like he’s waiting for you to speak.

So you do.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for dating.”

He glances at you. “That bad?”

You nod. “It’s like… I want something real. But everyone I meet makes me feel stupid for asking.”

Ni-ki stays quiet for a second.

Then: “They’re the stupid ones.”

You glance over. “What?”

He shrugs. “For not seeing it. For not recognizing you’re the kind of person people should want.”

Your heart stutters.

He doesn’t look at you when he says it. His eyes are on the floor, hands fidgeting with the drawstring of his hoodie.

You laugh weakly. “Why can’t I just date someone like you?”

His whole body stiffens.

You blink. “Ni-ki?”

He moves too fast. Reaches for the glass on the table. Misses. Knocks it over. It clatters loudly — empty, but loud enough to make you jump.

“Shit—” He rushes to grab it. “I—sorry, sorry. I wasn’t expecting—”

“What did I say?” you ask slowly.

He freezes with the glass in his hand. Doesn’t look at you.

You sit up straighter. “Ni-ki.”

He exhales hard, then sets the glass down. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not fair.”

You stare. “What do you mean?”

Finally — finally — he turns to you. And his eyes are bare.

Not guarded. Not teasing. Just real.

“Because I’ve spent years trying to convince myself that this—” he gestures between you “—was just a phase. That eventually you’d stop showing up at my place with tears in your eyes. That I’d stop wondering what it would be like to be the one you chose.”

You go silent.

Ni-ki lets out a small laugh, bitter and soft. “But I never got over you. I don’t think I ever will.”

Your throat tightens. “You never said anything.”

“Because I didn’t want to ruin it. I didn’t want to lose you just because I caught feelings first.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

The Ni-ki who made fun of your bad taste in ramen. Who used to walk you home in high school just because. Who showed up at every breakup with your favorite snacks and a movie cued up. That Ni-ki has been in love with you this whole time?

“I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same,” he murmurs.

You whisper, “What if I do?”

He stops breathing.

You reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his — slowly, carefully, like you’re afraid he’ll disappear.

“I think I’ve been trying to find pieces of you in everyone I’ve dated,” you say quietly. “But no one comes close.”

Ni-ki swallows hard. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

The quiet between you stretches — long and full of something new. Something changing.

Then he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod again.

So he does.

And it’s everything — every unsaid word, every held breath, every day he stood at your side wondering what it would feel like to be wanted back. His hands are gentle. His lips are soft and searching. And when he pulls away, his voice is the quietest it’s ever been.

“I’ve always been yours,” he whispers.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs + notes always mean a lot 💌

tl: (read rules before asking to be added to any list ᥫ᭡. )

[hanasnx]

anal w fuckboy!clark bc he’s never done it before and you’re sooooo desperate to differentiate yourself from the other girls on his roster you’ll give him anything

ANAL — c.kent

“ i heard from a friend of a friend, that dick was a ten out of ten ” 🪽

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ✉️ | dc comics. NOTES: fuckboy!clark nsfw twitter porn link video reference, must be logged in to twitter with age to see it. disclaimer; fuckboy!clark is my au, do not use it without explicit permission. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ au; fuckboy!clark ノ established relationship; fwbs ノ mention of reader having hair ノ allusions to unprotected sex ノ explicit sexual content ノ anal (f receiving) ノ anal virginity.

It’s a dangerous slope, you know. Having a little thing on the side with FUCKBOY!CLARK KENT was bound to end in flames. You’re not entirely sure how it happened, one day you knew him as your classmate, and then you were hitting each other up in the AM to come over for a quick one. There’s a sort of effortless charm about him, he acts strangely gentlemanly in a way a modern man can. Unfortunately you know you’ve hit rock bottom in standards because you think it’s sweet when he buys your Plan B, or stays a little longer than he needs to watch something with you until he’s gotta head home. It’s almost friendship, in a way.

The worst part is, you’re catching feelings way too quick. Sure you were attracted to him initially, but now your heart actually skips a beat when he says your name. You wait by your phone trying to catch a text from him to see what you’re up to. It’s pathetic, you think, brushing your hair back over your forehead. You’re not even the only girl he’s seeing right now, and you told him he’s not the only guy on your roster… yet you dive for your cell as soon as you hear it ring.

“You mean it?” Clark reaffirms, smoothing a hand over the cheek of your ass you’re presenting to him. Back at his place yet again, you’re in a familiar position, yet you’re offering up something new. His parted lips in quiet awe enclose so as drag his bottom one through his teeth, tilting his head at how you glisten in the dull light, pretty pussy all open while you await his answer. It’s like you’re getting wet just talking about this. “You’ll let me fuck your ass?” It’s such a crude way of saying it, and it makes you surge forward with the pillow still hooked under your hips. Thick fingers slot in between the fat of your pelvis and thighs, adjusting you right back where he wants you.

“Are you gonna do it or are you just gonna stare?” you challenge, resting the side of your face on his mattress so you can look back at him. From your peripheral, you can see his meaty dick fill out to full attention until the base is grasped by his hand. He gives it a couple of healthy jacks. You’ve been prepping for this, you did a bunch of boring research and you stuck stuff up yourself to loosen the virgin muscle. Just because your little asshole hasn’t been fucked before, doesn’t mean you can’t make it as comfortable as possible for yourself.

He doesn’t waste any more time, bringing the flat of his fingers up to his mouth so he can spit. A fat gob of it drips down, and he gently brings it to your puckered hole, massaging the natural lube in. His callused thumb swipes up and down until it visibly relaxes, when he gets cheeky the tip of it dips in. If you could see his face right now, you’d see stars in his eyes and a slack jaw. You lean into his touch, stowing your nervousness and crossing your arms under your head. The cold air hits the moistened tissue, and you hiss. It’s nothing compared to the clumsy bump of his mushroom-shaped head, the velvety skin coming into contact. You suck in a breath just as he exhales a throaty groan, shoving the whole tip in in his enthusiasm. “Oh, fuck…” he drags out the curse, tipping his head back as his hips lazily chase the feeling. You whimper in turn, but there’s a pleasurable sting in your belly coursing through you from his reaction that acts as more than enough payment for your sacrifice. “For me, baby? This all for me?” he asks, and you nod even if he can’t see it.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum back, clutching tighter onto his sheets as more and more of him is introduced to the new hole.

Once again he bites down on his lower lip hard, inclining his great body to the side to lean on his fist, the mattress dipping with his weight. His other hand palms your tailbone, pushing you down onto his dick as he surges, forcing himself into your little asshole. It hurts, but it’s a different pain than the ache of your neglected pussy. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to relax into the experience while he presses on. “You’re so- fucking- tight.” reverently, he sings your praises. His pre mixed with his spit helps to lube up the entry, but because it’s an entirely different feeling than what you’re used to, you’re not sure what change could help it feel better. It’s not bad, it’s just hard to wrap your head around. It’s probably because it’s your first time. “This your first?” He read your mind.

Once again, you can’t speak, so you nod and hum in confirmation. A grin breaks out onto his face, eyeing you with a dark hooded gaze as he laughs a little breathlessly… the kind that makes your knees go weak. “Yeah? Givin’ me your anal virginity? You want me or sum’n?” he taunts. At the sound of his assumption, he bottoms out, and all the air is pushed from your lungs in a keen. It’s a soreness in your stomach you can’t explain, but you don’t want him to stop.

@HANASNX 2025 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

[suushiiii]

Sick girlfriend equals clingy girlfriend

Leah Williamson x Reader

Summary: Leah is sick, but doesn't admit it. But you notice, because she's being extra clingy.

Word count: 3k

You stirred awake, the sheets ruffling when you moved and the mattress dipped lower. You slowly opened your eyes, it was still dark outside and the only light that lit the room was the streetlamp outside, the light filtering through the curtain. You blinked the last bit of sleep from your eyes and looked beside you, but Leah wasn’t there.

You frowned and looked at the time on your phone and saw that it was 07:30. It was early, too early to be awake on a free day. You knew Leah, she wasn’t a morning person at all, so her waking up this early wasn’t like her. You laid in bed for a few more minutes, before slipping out and pulling one of Leah her sweaters over your head, and you headed to the hallway. Once you entered the kitchen, you saw Leah already there at the stove and stirring something in a pan.

Leah was humming a soft tune, moving her hips from the left to the right, a spatula in her hand. You leaned against the doorframe, an amused smile tugged at your lips as you watched your girlfriend dance to the song she was humming. You shook your head lightly, Leah hadn’t even acknowledged you and you tried to suppress a laugh.

“Well, isn’t this a sight to see.” You hummed in amusement and Leah yelped and practically jumped out of her skin, the spatula clattering on the ground and the pan nearly getting pushed off the stove, when Leah spun herself to meet you. “Jesus, y/n!” Leah yelled, breathing heavily and her hand on her chest. “A good morning is also a good way to greet me, you know?” You hummed again with a chuckle and pushed yourself off from the doorframe and crossed the small kitchen.

“How long have you been standing there?” Leah finally managed to ask, when her breathing had slowed and her heart rate was even again. “Not long.” You lied with a smirk and walked over to the stove, picking up the spatula from the ground as well. You started to hum the same tune Leah was humming just a few seconds ago and Leah widened her eyes, because she realized that you had watched that.

You heard a groan behind you, but quickly felt the arms of Leah around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder. She placed a kiss below your jaw and you leaned your head back against her shoulder. You tilted your head to the side and Leah her lips placed a kiss on your neck, while you let out a sigh and you felt Leah smirk just above your pulse.

“You are very clingy today.” You murmured with your eyes closed, your fingers tracing circles on Leah her knuckles that rested on your stomach. “I can’t show affection to my lovely girlfriend?” Leah questioned and pulled her head back, resting it on your shoulder once more. “You can, but you never do that in the morning.” You stated and turned in her arms, so you were facing her now and you brushed your nose against hers.

That was your first sign that something was up with Leah, because of her clinginess in the morning and getting out of bed early. You let it slide and got out of Leah her embrace. When you turned yourself to her, you saw her pouting at you, like a child who’s toy got taken away. “What’s with the pout?” You teased and touched Leah her arm gently. “You don’t want to hug.” Leah huffed, but the pout was still visible. “Le, I let you kiss my jaw and neck just a few seconds ago. That doesn’t scream hugging to you?” You asked and Leah only shook her head, taking a step closer to you, her hands finding your waist.

“No.” Leah mumbled into your shoulder, while you made gentle circles on her back with your hand. “We need to make breakfast.” You whispered into her hair, but Leah didn’t pull away, she just pulled you closer. “Breakfast can wait, hugging can’t.” You huffed softly, no annoyance behind, just amusement. “It’s the most important meal of the day.” Leah giggled softly at that, making you pull back and raising an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?” You questioned, your hand ruffling the defender’s blonde locks.

“There is a meal far more delicious than any other.” Leah stated with a mischievous look in her eyes and kissed the corner of your mouth gently and long. “Leah!” You yelled, full with affection and pulled your head back again. “It’s not the time to think about sex right now, it’s too early.” You groaned and rested your head against hers, because now she had put that idea in your head. “What? There is always time.” Leah murmured and you looked at, really looked at and you saw something you couldn’t quite place.

“Okay miss charming, let’s make some breakfast first and then we’ll see.” You teased and moved to the counter and turned the stove on again, Leah moved to your side, your shoulders brush against each other every now and then. “Do you want coffee?” You nodded and flipped a pancake in the pan, while Leah walked to the coffee machine. “What do you want to do today?” You asked and turned your head over your shoulder, so you could look at Leah. “Maybe stay in, watch that series that you’ve been talking about?” Leah suggested and you frowned, because this was again something that Leah would never suggest, sit still.

“Leah, you just suggested to sitting still the whole day.” Your voice was filled with disbelief, but Leah only nodded. “I’m aware.” Leah hummed and took two coffee mugs from one of the cabinets and poured coffee into them. “You know that you can’t sit still, right?” You stated and put pancakes on the plates next to the stove, while Leah added milk and sugar to your coffee. The two of you sat down behind the counter, knees brushing lightly, Leah making a stupid joke, but she made them funny somehow.

Later in the day, the two of you had settled on the couch and as usual, you leaned your back against Leah her chest. One of Leah her arms was loosely wrapped around your waist, her hand was going through your hair. The tv was playing a series on Netflix, but you were the only one really watching. Leah had tried to watch it, but for her the light of the tv was too bright and the sound was too loud.

Every now and then, you felt weight on the top of your head, but left just as quickly. You smiled to yourself, because you knew that Leah was trying to stay awake, so you leaned back further into her body and Leah let you. After a few minutes, Leah started to doze off again, but she tried to stay awake. “Leah?” You whispered. You waited for a few seconds and called her name again, but there was still no response.

You turned your head to see her face, her eyes were half closed, her breathing was not normal and her forehead glistened with sweat. “Le.” You whispered and nudged her side with your elbow. It took a few nudges, but by the fourth, Leah shot awake and yelled something about what happened in the series.

“Easy love, you missed the whole episode where that scene appeared in.” You said softly, your hand finding hers and you intertwined your fingers together. “I missed a whole episode?” Leah asked with a groan and leaned with her head back against the couch. “It’s okay, the girl dumped the dumb guy for the hot biker girl.” You assured her and patted her with your free hand on her knee.

“The guy was dumb indeed.” Leah said with a giggle and pulled you closer by your waist. “Who asks a girl that has zero interest in art, to go on a date to an art museum?” Leah stated in disbelief, earning a soft laugh from you. Leah her eyes met yours, asking silently what’s so funny. “What? You missed the whole episode, but you are way too invested into it.” You giggled and Leah groaned again, as she buried her face into your neck.

“What did the girl and the biker girl do?” Leah murmured against your neck, before pulling back to meet your eyes. “They went on a bike ride, took a walk in the forest and found a silent place to talk and other things.” You hummed, hoping that you wouldn’t spoil too much. “That’s it? No sex on a first date? Or even a kiss?” You shook your head and giggled softly again.

You were about to respond, but when Leah pressed her forehead against yours, you felt it. Leah her head was warm, too warm. “You’re hot Leah.” You breathed out and Leah hummed in satisfaction. “Thank you, y/n/n. I think you’re very hot as well.” You shook your head once more and moved your hand to Leah her head, feeling the warmth radiating off her. “No, no. I don’t mean ‘hot”’, I mean you are, but you are hot, like burning up hot.” You pulled your hand back, seeing that Leah her eyes were tired, even though she had woken up from a nap just a few moments ago.

“It’s nothing, probably because of the blanket.” Leah pointed out, not really caring what you just said. “You want something to drink?” Leah stood up, stretching herself and you were stunned. “Leah, you were (are) burning hot!” You practically yelled, not out of frustration or anger, but out of care and worry. “You have called me hot in the last 2 minutes, you should do it more often.” Leah said with a smirk and patted barefoot to the kitchen, leaving you on the couch, stunned.

You took a second, before standing up from the couch and headed to the kitchen. Once you reached the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, Leah was moving, but it was slow and not as sharp as she usually is. “Do you want coffee or tea?” Leah turned to face you, her forehead was again glistering from the sweat, her lips dry and she swallowed more than she needed to.

You knew Leah was stubborn, so she definitely wouldn’t admit that she was sick and you hated it. You also knew that Leah hated to lean on others, because she acts like a captain on the field and off it. You shook your head and sighed lightly, before walking towards the counter and leaning against it. “Leah-” You started, but before you could continue, Leah her voice cut you off. “Did I snore?” You blinked and then again, taking off guard by her sudden question.

“What do you mean?” You asked, your brows furrowed in confusion. “During my nap. Did I snore?” Leah asked again, turning around and facing you once more. You thought back and yes, she did snore. It clicked in your mind. Leah had a blocked nose, making her breath through mouth during her nap. “Eummh, you did a little, but not loudly.” Your voice wasn’t teasing like usual, but it was filled with worry and concern. “Please tell me you didn’t record it?” Leah groaned and you shook your head to assure her that you hadn’t recorded her.

Leah let out a relieved sigh, taking a sip from her coffee. “Are you cooking tonight or am I?” You shrugged, because you didn’t mind who cooked. “We could also order take out, there is this new restaurant I wanted to try.” Leah stated and you just nodded along, because if you would talk, you knew your words were going to be: “Leah, you’re sick”, but you swallowed them.

“Yeah, we can order food in.” You said with a smile, that didn’t reach your eyes. “Yes!” Leah cheered and stepped towards you, kissing you softly on your lips. You smiled against her lips and pulled her into a hug, after you pulled away from the kiss, the worry never leaving your body, but you pressed it down for now.

Later that evening, your worry only grew, because Leah had started to cough uncontrollably. Leah constantly shrugged it off, saying that it’s just from the night earlier, when the window had been open. Your worry was now mixed with frustration, because Leah was just too damn stubborn to admit that she was sick.

After dinner, Leah her plate was still full, the glass with her favorite wine was untouched and Leah had wrapped herself up in a thick sweater and blanket. The two of you had settled on the couch once more, but this time, Leah sat in front of you and leaned against your chest. You both didn’t say anything, it was a comfortable silence, but the tension was quietly creeping in from the corners of the room. The lights were off, the only light came from the kitchen, because Leah groaned when you turned the bright living room lights on when you settled on the couch an hour ago.

The only sound came from the cars passing outside the apartment and the soft humming of the fridge. Leah had let her head rest on your shoulder the minute you sat down and it was now an hour later, her head still on your shoulder, her face buried in the crook of your neck. Her breathing was still uneven through her mouth, her head still burning hot against the side of your neck. Your hand was tangled in her hair and every now and then you placed a kiss on her head, and Leah would sigh at that.

Seconds passed, maybe minutes, before Leah her voice filled the quiet living room. “I’m tired,” She started, her voice hoarse and full of sleep, your hand stilled in her hair. “my head and throat hurts, and to top it all off, I’m sweating like I’m in a sauna.” Leah finished with a whine and you only hummed, finally relieved that Leah let her stubbornness fall. “I think I’m sick.” You blinked, because of the words ‘I think’. “You think?” You finally said, with a bit of disbelief, that Leah thought she was sick.

“Why do you say it like that?” Leah groaned and tilted her head to meet your eyes, in the dark room. “No reason.” You said softly and Leah her eyes narrowed, observing you, before speaking again. “You knew I was sick, didn’t you?” You only nodded with your head and you heard another groan leave your girlfriends throat. “Yes I did.” You said, your eyes softened when you looked at her. Without saying anything, Leah straddled your lap and buried her face into your neck again.

“Leah.” You groaned, knowing that Leah wouldn’t move anytime soon. Leah hummed softly, while your hands found Leah her hips instinctively, pulling her closer. “Leah, you’re burning hot and sweating.” You said with a sigh and Leah pulled back with a smirk. “Three.” You raised an eyebrow when Leah said that, confusion filling your eyes. “Three, what?” You asked hesitantly, not knowing what to expect what Leah her answer would be.

“It’s the third time, in-” Leah started, but stopped and looked at the clock on the wall. “third time in 5 hours that you’ve called me hot.” Leah said with a giggled, moving a little in your lap. “Seriously, you kept count?” You tried to keep your voice steady, but failed miserably when you laughed softly. “Of course, it’s not everyday that my girlfriend calls me hot.” Leah her lips were in a satisfied smirk and you shook your head, kissing the top of her nose.

“You are unbelievable.” You muttered, running one of your hands through your hair. “But you love me.” Leah said simply, her hands (sweaty) resting on your neck. “That’s debatable.” You teased and Leah gasped dramatically at that. “That hurt, you hurt your sick girlfriend?” Leah pouted and you just smirked at her, trying to move her from her lap, but Leah didn’t move.

“Leah, it’s late and I have training tomorrow.” You said with a sigh, but Leah still didn’t move. “You’re going to make me carry you to the bedroom, aren’t you?” You asked and Leah her eyes lit up at your question. “Now that you mention it.” Leah smirked, dragging out the ‘it’. “Fine.” You muttered, but the smile on your lips stayed.

You slipped your hands under Leah her thighs and stood up, taking a second to balance the new weight that you needed to carry. Leah wrapped her legs around your waist and buried her face into your neck again, while you moved gently to the bedroom with your very sick and clingy girlfriend in your arms. You moved to the hallway and nudged the already open door with your foot, to open the door more.

Once you had reached the bed, you gently laid Leah down, like she was something fragile, like glass. You tucked her in and moved to your side of the bed, slipping off your slippers and sliding in the bed, pulling the covers over yourself. You hadn’t settled fully and Leah was already clung to your side, her legs taggled with yours under the covers, her hand finding yours and she settled her head on your chest. “You are very clingy when you’re sick.” You murmured into her hair and Leah giggled and tightened her free arm around your waist.

“Well, you know the saying: ‘sick girlfriend equals clingy girlfriend’.” You let out a huff, not with annoyance, but from amusement. “Leah, you just made that saying up.” You stated dryly, placing a kiss on Leah her forehead. “It should be a saying, so the whole of London is alarmed.” You laughed softly and pulled Leah closer. “Please, just promise me when you are sick again in the future, you tell me, so I can take care of you.” You whispered into her hair.

Leah only hummed softly, already drifting off to sleep. You, on the other hand, stayed awake a bit longer, listening to Leah her breathing. She hummed a few things in her sleep, but eventually sleep took over and you drifted off to sleep as well, Leah her head still on your chest and your hands intertwined together. 

[angel-writes-skz-here]

Do You Trust Me?

Bang Chan x F! Reader Synopsis: Your best friend tries to make your day better Warnings: SMUT, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v, praise, light bondage(?) A/N: I need to get finished with orders for Larie's Libations! So be expecting that! I'm also cooking up an event so y'all stay tunned for that! As usual, comment to be added to my tag list Xoxo💋

Your day had been rough. It started off when you bumped into someone at the coffee the shop and both of you spilled your daily caffeine, staining your white blouse and making you late to work.

Then you find out your boss transferred you to a different floor and expected you to move your desk that morning to make room for the replacement. After that, the printer screwed up right as you were printing an important document. Come lunch time you realized you forgot your lunch at home, causing you to eat only a bag of chips.

You shot Chris a message on your lunch break grumbling about how it was a shit day and you couldn’t wait to just chill at home.

After lunch, you go back to your desk only to find that the computer, that had said important documents and information on it, had shut down, not saving anything.

Needless to say, it was a shit day.

So when you walk into the shared apartment with Chris, you’re surprised to see dinner cooked and candles lighting the table.

“What the heck is this?”

“You said you had a bad day, I wanted to try to help.” He shrugs sheepishly. He comes over, slyly taking off your jacket and your purse and putting them away.

“Seriously, how has no woman snatched you up yet?” You ask as you hug him tightly. You and Chris have been friends for the last few years, living together for a year now. It had been working well, until you started to fall for him. It wasn’t hard; Chris is the epitome of a good boyfriend. Attentive, kind, genuinely listens when you talk about your day. He makes you laugh, helps distract you when you need it, and is always there to help when you ask. He’s someone you feel safe with, that you trust and know you can count on.

You both sit down to eat dinner, the silence a little awkward. You can see the wheels in his head turning as he chews a bite of his food.

“What cha thinkin about, roo?” you wink at him.

“Huh, oh,” his face turns a light shade of pink, “Nothin, I um,” he sighs.

“Y/n,” he asks and you look up over at him from the rim of your glass.

“Do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do. You. Trust. Me?” he asks again.

“With my life,” you answer honestly. He takes a deep breath and stands up, holding out his hand to you. You look from his face to his hand back to his face before hesitantly taking his hand and standing up. He pulls you close to him, the height difference not much, just a few inches or so, and he softly presses his lips to yours. You stand there for a moment, eyes wide, lips frozen.

“You said you trust me,” he says, voice an octave deeper.

“Let me help you relax,” he mumbles against your lips, hands resting on your hips. Your eyes flutter closed, moving your lips against his as your hands rest on either side of his neck. The kiss quickly turns heated, passion exchanged in every movement, tongues daring to dance together in something that’s way over the line of friendship.

“Chris,” you whimper. You feel him smile against your lips. He pulls you to your bedroom.

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this,” he says as he gently pushes you down on the bed. His eyes are dark; lustful and hungry.

“How many nights I heard you moan because of your own hands.” He says as he hovers over you.

“How many nights my cock would throb and I’d have to get off, imagining it was you on top of me.” He groans in your ear, making you shiver. He slips off his shirt before leaning back down, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

Without even thinking you dip your head down, capturing his thumb in your mouth, lightly sucking on it, tongue swirling around the tip of it. His eyes widen, watching your mouth suck and his pants start to tent. He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, before raising your shirt over your head.

“Fuck,” he breathes as his eyes stare at your chest, “Look at you, so fucking perfect,” he groans as he places kisses down your neck. Your fingers thread into his hair, his teeth sinking into the flesh.

“God I wanna taste you so bad,” he almost whimpers in your ear. Your face flushes.

“Wanna feel you around my tongue,” he says as you whine, hips involuntarily shifting toward him. He notices and chuckles.

“Don’t worry, baby girl, Daddy’s got you.” He says before trailing more kisses down to your chest. He kisses the top of each breast, tongue darting out over your skin. You sigh in satisfaction, watching him, cradling his head as he kisses just between them.

His hands reach behind you, slipping the bra off. He moans, mouth automatically going around your left nipple, flicking it with his tongue. You bite your lip to keep from moaning, eyes closing to concentrate and Chan bites down.

“Ah,” you jump.

“Let me hear you,” he smirks and goes back to flicking his tongue and you oblige, letting out the noise. His other hand comes up to pinch and lightly twists, causing your mouth to fall open, before he switches and gives the right one the same kind of attention.

“Chris,” you whimper feeling your panties grow damp. You figure he must know what you want because he kisses down your stomach.

“You know,” he says before kissing your stomach.

“I’ve dreamt,” he kisses your flesh again, “About having my head between your legs,” he says before nipping at the skin of your hip. Your walls clench around nothing at his words.

“Dreamt of how you taste. Dreamt of hearing you moan my name like it’s the only thing you know,” he says as he pulls down your pants.

“And tonight,” he says before planting a kiss to your clothed core, “I’m not stopping,” another kiss, “Until I hear it. M’gonna make you feel so good baby,” he says and kisses the inside of your thigh. He flattens his tongue and drags it up the damp cloth covering you.

He feels you squirm, watching as your hips roll involuntarily.

“Patience baby, we got all night.”

“Chris I have work tomorrow,” you whine.

“If you’re able to walk tomorrow, I didn’t do my job.” He smirks before hooking his fingers into the fabric and pulling it down.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he says before diving in. His tongue is slow at first, teasing you with slight pressure to your clit, causing you to gasp and sit up, better watching him between your thighs. He chuckles against you, adding just a bit more pressure.

“Better enjoy this, I won’t be gentle all night,” he groans before lapping at your entrance, tasting you. He moans something sinful, eyes rolling back in his head.

“Knew you tasted good,” he says against you as he hooks his arms around your thighs, fully determined to make you see stars. His tongue applies forceful pressure, making you gasp as he curls it up and flicks it back and forth, the sensation causing your eyes to close, and body to go slack against the headboard. Chan flits his eyes up to you, smiling to himself when he sees the look of pleasure and relaxation on your face.

He teases your entrance with his finger, slowly inserting it and curling it upwards, hitting your sweet spot each time.

“Chris,” you moan out, hips once again moving against him as he continues his assault on your clit.

You whimper as he quickly adds another.

“Fuck,” you say as he moves them quickly, hitting the spot perfectly; tongue like lightening as your body tenses.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you mumble, hand in his hair pushing his face into you.

“Fall apart baby,” he mumbles against you. You gasp, body shaking as you feel the heat in your stomach dissipate and your body shake against him.

Your chest rises and falls as Chris works you through your orgasm, slowly pumping his fingers as your walls attempt to suck them in.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praises kissing his way back up to you. His hand comes around your throat, causing your heart to tick right back up before his lips slam onto yours, rough and needy.

You whimper against him, desperate to touch and feel more of him.

“Chris please,” you whimper against him. He chuckles before helping you flip onto your stomach.

“I didn’t even have tell you to beg,” he whispers in your ear, smirk evident in his voice.

“That needy, huh? My needy little slut?” you groan as your cheeks tint a shade of pink. You hear his belt come undone and your body rushes with excitement.

“Hands,” he says as he positions himself on your back. You put your hands behind your back and feel his belt come around them, securing your wrists together.

“I told you I wouldn’t go easy all night.” He mumbles in your ear. He drops his pants, positions your hips up and teases your folds by rubbing his head up and down them.

“Christopher,” you warn as you desperately try to move your hips back. He audibly laughs at you.

“You’re in no position to negotiate, love.” He says and you can only imagine the dimpled smile on his face on right now as your cheek is pressed into the mattress.

You groan again and roll your eyes as he pushes in hard and fast making you choke out a moan. Chan smirks, drawing himself out slowly, only to slam into you again, hitting that beautiful spot inside you.

“God,” you choke out, eyes screwing shut. Chan sets a brutal pace, causing your forehead to dig into the mattress, breathing becoming labored quickly. Chris can feel your walls squeezing him, signaling your close, he slams into you even faster, helping your orgasm along by rubbing your clit. Your mouth opens in a silent cry, walls sucking his cock in.

Chris moans at the pressure as you come undone, but he isn’t finished.

“Fuck,” he groans as his hand wraps around your throat, pulling you up against him, fucking into you, body limp in his arms, legs slightly shaking.

“You can give me one more, yeah? I know you’ve got it in you. You make yourself cum at least twice in a night, so let’s see if we can break that record. Think you can do that for me?” he grunts as he kisses up your shoulder to your neck; his breathing now becoming more labored.

“Yes, daddy,” you whimper as you feel him slow down just a little, teasing you, before pushing you down on the bed, his back hovering directly over yours with long deep thrusts.

“You take me so fucking well,” he says with a kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Make me feel so damn good,” he grunts.

“And to think, you let other guys do what I could’ve been doing this whole time,” he grits his teeth, his pace picking up little by little until its punishing.

“I’m better than them, though. I can make your body tick by simply looking at you the right way,” he taunts with a cocky attitude.

“Isn’t that right, baby?” He asks and his palm lands on your ass cheek. You whimper as he lands another.

“Yes,” you call out; the sting a stark contrast to the pleasure.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum,” you whimper out, eyes screwed tight. You feel Chan slow down once again, and the restraints come off your wrists. Your arms cheer with relief as you’re able to bring them down and you flip onto your back, Chan repositioning himself, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful underneath me,” he murmurs as he slides in, causing both of you to moan together in harmony.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispers as his pace is slow and deep once more.

“Wanted to feel you around me,” he sighs as your walls flutter.

“Wanted to call you mine so many times and tell those losers you’d bring over to fuck off,” he says before dipping his head down and connecting your lips, hips rocking faster, his hand going to play with your puffy clit. Your breath hitches, and your noses touch as you feel your body begin to stiffen quickly.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers in your ear as his cock throbs.

“I’ve got you, baby. Cum for me,” he drawls. Your arms go around his neck, back arching into him as your nails go down his muscular back, drawing red lines down it as your walls clamp around his cock.

Chan moans, hips stilling as he cums with you. The two of you stay frozen like that for a moment, the initial shock of what just happened weighting over you. The two of you look into each other’s eyes. For what feels like hours, you stare at each other, unsure of what to say or what’s ok to feel.

Chan is the first to move. He moves some hair away from your face as you settle against the mattress, the moment surreal.

“You ok?” he asks cautiously. The tone of his voice calms your fears. A lazy smile spreads across your face before you bring his face down to yours.

“Better than ok.” You smile just before kissing his lips. Chan smiles into the kiss and pulls himself out of you, both of you wincing slightly. He looks at you, dripping with his seed.

“That’s so hot,” he whispers to himself as he slowly forces himself away to grab a towel. He comes back a little bit later, longer than normal, helping you clean up, and helps you stand, legs wobbly and body sore.

“Lets get you cleaned up, yeah?” you nod lazily, your body spent.

You walk into the bathroom, candles are lit and a small tray filled with snacks and water in sitting across the tub with warm steamy water underneath it.

“Come on, it’ll soothe your muscles,” he whispers in your ear.

“You’re joining me, right?” you ask almost innocently.

“If you want me to,” he says, not making eyes contact with you.

“Of course I do,” you whisper turning around and placing your hand on his cheek. He smiles and leans into it, kissing your palm.

You both step into the water, the warmth enveloping your muscles. You sink down into the tub, Chan behind you, rubbing your arms trying to help them relax.

“So how about you call out tomorrow,” Chan says in your ear, “And you let me pamper you, hmm?” he asks.

“I have to go back to work eventually.”

“I mean, you could just let me take care of you,” he says with a kiss to your shoulder before reaching around and opening one of the snacks for you.

“You know I like having my own money.”

“You don’t even hardly pay for anything anyways.”

“Chris,” you begin, “That’s because you always beat me to it.”

“Just one day,” he says.

“A three-day weekend,” he encourages.

“We can do whatever you want.” He entices. You blush and rest against him.

“Fine, I doubt I’ll be able to walk properly anyway, considering I looked like a baby deer just getting to the bathroom,” you joke.

Tags: @breakmeoff @thelovelybireader @crystal005 @velvetmoonlght

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[azzinator3000]

Locked Doors

Word count: 2K 

Content: Friends-to-lovers, secret relationship, intense sexual tension, college basketball AU.

Warnings: None

Pairing: Pazzi

CHAPTER 2: The Ten-Minute Rule

It had been a week. One whole, weird, awkward, spiraling week since she accidentally stayed over at Paige’s. Since she freaked out.

The girls were acting normal. Maybe too normal.

And Paige was… well, Paige. Smiling at her in that way that made Azzi’s stomach knot up, poking at her during practice, trying to be cute after they got into that stupid fight about the game last night.

Paige always thought she was right about everything, especially when it came to reading the court. And Azzi, stubborn as she was, hated being told she’d missed a pass or a screen, even when Paige was usually right.

And Azzi hated being mad at her. She really did. It felt wrong, like a fundamental part of her day was missing when she wasn’t completely in sync with Paige.

But also? She had a paper due. A real, actual, grade-defining, future-threatening paper for Dr. Miller’s Advanced Psychology seminar, and she could not afford to waste another second thinking about Paige’s stupid, perfect face, or the way her blonde hair fell just so, or the infuriatingly confident glint in her light eyes. 

She needed to focus, to claw her way back to academic sanity.

So she was sitting in her room, headphones in, laptop open, trying to focus. Trying to be a serious, responsible person who could just move on and get things done.

Except then there was this knocking.

Bang, bang, bang.

Azzi sighed. Ignored it. Paige could wait.

Azzi stared harder at the textbook, willing the words to sink in, even as her mind kept drifting to the heavy silence of the dorm room this morning, the way Paige had watched her, that intense, unreadable look in her eyes.

Bang, bang, bang.

She didn’t stop. Paige Bueckers, of course, was the most annoyingly persistent person on earth.

It was infuriating. And endearing. Which was the problem. Everything about Paige was infuriating and endearing.

Azzi yanked out one headphone. “I’m studying!” Her voice was tight with forced exasperation.

She knew she was being childish, holding onto this petty anger from the game, but a part of her needed the distance, needed the excuse to not engage with Paige’s relentless charm.

“I know you are,” Paige’s voice came through the door, muffled but still somehow smug. Azzi could almost see the smirk, even through solid wood.

Bang, bang, bang. The rhythmic thudding was almost hypnotic, a physical manifestation of Paige’s stubbornness.

It was ridiculous. They were college athletes, not five-year-olds on a playground.

“Seriously, I need to finish this. I told you I was busy, Paige.” Azzi’s voice cracked slightly, betraying the crack in her resolve.

She just wanted to be left alone, to pretend her heart wasn't doing gymnastics every time Paige breathed within ten feet of her.

“I don’t like it when you’re mad.” The words, even muffled, held a hint of vulnerability that snagged at Azzi’s chest.

Damn it. Paige always knew how to hit her soft spots.

Azzi groaned, burying her face in her hands. She loved Paige, but she hated her sometimes. She grabbed her phone and texted quickly:

I’ll be out in 10 minutes.

The banging didn’t stop. Paige was literally ignoring her text.

The annoyance flared again, hot and sharp. This was Paige, always pushing, always testing boundaries. Always getting her way.

She glared at the door. “PAIGE. GO AWAY.”

From the other room, KK shouted, her voice carrying clear as a bell, “Please let her in! I can’t listen to this anymore!”

Azzi rolled her eyes. Part of her was genuinely annoyed — the part that knew she needed to be a good, responsible student and not let herself get sidetracked by the human hurricane that was Paige Bueckers. But a much bigger part was… what? Touched? Warm?

Whatever. Stupid.

It was just… friendship. Intense, flirty, occasionally-making-out-in-bar-bathrooms friendship.

Nothing that would shatter her carefully constructed reality or ruin her reputation, or worse, Paige’s.

God, this was getting out of hand.

She finally got up and opened the door, arms crossed, trying to look stern even though Paige was already grinning at her like she’d just won something major, like she’d just sunk a game-winning three-pointer.

She leaned against the doorframe, all casual grace and golden blonde hair, those light eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What?” Azzi asked, pretending she wasn’t softening immediately. Pretending her heart wasn’t doing a stupid little flip.

Paige stepped in, closing the door behind her with a soft click, leaning in like she was about to say something deeply important, her breath warm on Azzi’s cheek.

Azzi braced herself for another playful jab about the game. But then—

“Just wanted to say I miss you, baby,” Paige said, stupidly sweet, absolutely unserious, dragging out the “baby” like a fuckboy.

She pulled back just enough to watch Azzi’s reaction, that smug, knowing look on her face.

Baby. It was so casual, so flippant, so Paige. Paige always flirted like this. Always. With everyone, sometimes, but something about this time, this word, made Azzi’s stomach twist.

It felt like a direct hit, straight to that vulnerable, desperate part of her she kept buried deep. She felt a flush creep up her neck.

“You’re so annoying,” Azzi mumbled, turning away, pretending to rearrange books on her desk because she didn’t trust her face not to betray her. Not to show how much that word, carelessly tossed, had actually affected her.

How much she actually did miss Paige, even after a stupid argument.

“But you missed me too,” Paige teased, following her, bumping their shoulders together, her warmth seeping through Azzi’s shirt. “Admit it. You were bored without me.”

“You’re the worst.” Azzi tried for scathing, but it came out more fond than anything.

“You love me Fudd” Paige’s voice was a low hum, confident, absolutely sure. And that was the problem, wasn't it? Paige was always so damn sure.

Azzi sat back on her bed, trying to focus on her laptop screen even though her brain had clearly left the building, flying somewhere over the horizon with Paige’s carefree laughter.

Paige plopped down next to her, way too close, stealing a piece of gum off her desk like she owned the place, unwrapping it with a loud crinkle.

They bantered, like they always did.

Soft teasing, playful shoves, stupid arguments about which movie to watch.

Azzi tried to push for something serious, a documentary, anything to distract herself from the buzzing awareness of Paige’s thigh pressed against hers.

Paige, of course, insisted on a cheesy rom-com, something with explosions and a predictable happily ever after. They settled on something dumb, something easy, and somehow Paige ended up with her head half on Azzi’s shoulder, both of them crammed on the small bed, watching a movie neither of them were really paying attention to.

Paige’s arm was draped casually over Azzi’s waist, her fingers lightly tapping a rhythm on Azzi’s hip.

And Azzi hated that this felt perfect.

She just wanted to finish her paper. She wanted to focus on nationals. She wanted to not be utterly consumed by Paige Bueckers.

Azzi shifted slightly, trying to push those thoughts down, to create a microscopic space between their bodies, but Paige just snuggled closer, like it was the most natural thing in the world, her breath warm against Azzi’s neck.

Paige's fingers tightened ever so slightly on Azzi's hip, a subtle reassurance, a silent claim.

And from the other room, KK’s voice echoed faintly, muffled but clear enough to make Azzi’s stomach clench. “Oh, you ain’t mad now, huh? You went soft Azzi”

The casualness of KK’s comment, the lack of real surprise, sent a fresh wave of panic through her. She glanced at Paige, whose smirk only deepened, completely unbothered, as if KK’s comment was just another laugh line in their shared comedy.

Paige just smirked. “Told you you missed me.”

Azzi shook her head, fighting a smile she was definitely losing control over. “Shut up.”

But she didn’t move away.

“You know, for someone who put a ‘ten-minute rule’ on me,” Paige murmured, her voice a low rumble against Azzi’s ear, her lips just brushing the sensitive skin there, “you’re not very good at enforcing it.”

Azzi shivered, a response she desperately tried to suppress. 

The “ten-minute rule.” It had started as a joke, a desperate attempt by Azzi to carve out some solo study time, a boundary against Paige’s omnipresent energy. 

Just ten minutes, Paige, then you can come in. It was supposed to be her shield, her protection. But Paige had weaponized it, turning it into a countdown to intimacy, a game she always won. She’d bang on the door, text ridiculous memes, send pictures of herself making sad puppy dog eyes until Azzi finally caved. 

It was never ten minutes. It was ten minutes until Azzi remembered how much she loved having Paige around.

“It’s a work in progress,” Azzi mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant, even as her pulse hammered against her ribs.

Paige’s fingers, still on her hip, started drawing lazy circles, sending tingles through the fabric of her sweats. It was an innocent touch, a friendly touch, but it was Paige, and nothing about Paige was ever truly innocent for Azzi.

“Mmm-hmm,” Paige hummed, skepticism thick in her tone. “Or maybe you just like having me around too much to really want me to go.” She leaned her head back, shifting slightly so her blonde hair tickled Azzi’s jaw. 

The scent of Paige—clean and faintly sweet, like the campus laundry detergent mixed with her own unique, intoxicating smell—filled Azzi’s senses, distracting her from everything. 

Her paper, the team, the impending national championship, the entire world outside this small, cluttered dorm room.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bueckers,” Azzi countered, but her voice was weak, wavering. She could feel the smile tugging at her own lips. It was a losing battle, trying to resist Paige when she was like this – soft and playful.

Paige chuckled, a soft, warm sound. “Oh, Princess, I’m not flattering myself. I’m just stating facts.” Her free hand, which had been resting on the bed between them, slowly stretched out, her fingers just brushing the edge of Azzi’s open laptop. 

Azzi instinctively tensed, watching her. Paige’s eyes, still fixed on the movie screen, seemed to hold a mischievous glint. “You know, you could always just admit it.”

“Admit what?” Azzi asked, trying to sound bored, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

Paige finally turned her head, her gaze locking with Azzi’s.

Her light eyes were intense. “That you like me. Like, really really like me.” Her voice was a low murmur, just for Azzi, soft and dangerous.

Azzi’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat. She wanted to deny it, to laugh it off

She didn’t 

The movie played on, a distant, irrelevant soundtrack to the silent war raging within Azzi. She could hear the faint sounds of the dorm hallway, a door opening, laughter, the mundane backdrop to their intensely private moment. 

Someone could walk in at any second. The fear was still there.

She shifted again, this time not to create distance, but to subtly lean in. Paige’s gaze dropped to Azzi’s lips, then back to her eyes, a silent question passing between them.

“Paige,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible. It wasn’t a denial. It wasn’t an admission. It was a plea. A plea for understanding, for patience, for a moment to breathe.

Paige’s smirk faded, replaced by something softer, more tender, but no less intense. 

Her fingers on Azzi’s hip tightened almost imperceptibly, a silent reassurance, a promise. “It’s okay,” she whispered back, her voice a soothing balm against Azzi’s panicked heart.

And then, without another word, Paige leaned in, just a fraction of an inch, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to Azzi’s temple. 

Azzi closed her eyes, biting down on the inside of her cheek. And Azzi knew, with a terrifying certainty, that she was falling. Hard.

[alanisstonedd]

cockwarming w con | mdni

the smoke from yalls third blunt curls around your lip. you feel the high behind your eyes, all through your body, like sinking into bliss.

you had thought he was tapped out from the sesh, laying next you on your bed with his head on the pillow, lookin like he in another dimension. yall both had a long day, and the wind down was much much needed.

you ash the roach that’s left and set it in the tray, turning to him. he looks so sexy like this, laid out, guard down, rough body on display for you. you trace his tats, not a though in your head other than how bad you wanna lick him up.

he looks over at your lips with this corny ass grin like he got a nasty idea. “mama. i wanna be inside you”

your clit throbs. like it just hit you how much you need it. even tho practically everything sets yall off in this state. the room already feels like sex and yall ain’t even touching.

but, shit, he never has to tell your ass twice. “i need that papí. you look so yummy.” running a hand over his face and down his warm chest, you start to climb over him into a straddle.

“nuh-uh, you the yummy one… look atchu…you teasin’ me baby.” he’s feeling you up like you’re gonna float away. like he’s just making sure your real… all that woman right there in front of him, your skin glowing that rich, succulent brown that he loves. you already breathing heavy, feeling that print pressed right up against your soaked cunt. prolly leaking a wet patch on him right now. 

“i’m not even doin nothin boy” you giggle. grinding down just to feel the tip graze you right where you need it. you feel your wetness soaking through the minimal fabric that’s separating you both. it’s hot, in both ways, and makes the friction all the more delicious.

“exactly… can never stay soft around mí amor. you too sexy. made for me…”

you run your hands down the tattoos on his chest, throwing your hips back and forth on him softly. you both groan in synch like it’s deeper than a nut. like you wanna drag it out of him just so you can give him your own back. your pussy fluttering for a taste.

“fuck— you make me crazy connie” you shudder a breath out, quickly becoming overwhelmed by the feeling of him under you, unable to conjure a thought that’s not about him or his dick. you need skin to skin contact immediately, craving the feeling of his warm, throbbing dick sliding along your creamy slit — you need that yummy shlick shlick shlick sound when you grind over him.

your brows furrow with impatience as you yank his sweats down and pull your panties to the side, connie moaning under you like he physically can’t wait. his dick twitches hard at the sight of your cunt — glistening and juicy — and slaps you right on the clit, sending the most delicious tingle up your spine. “fuck—! mm, that dick—” you moan out, grabbing your tit and reaching for his hand stuck to your waist, to keep some sanity.

he groans watching you play with your sweet brown nipples, getting a little jealous of your hands so he reaches one up to grope along with you. his other hand cradles your hip for leverage to buck up against you, practically giving himself whiplash at the pure pleasure you create together — throwing his head back and lifting it back up quick just to look at you. he’s grunting, eyes locked with yours like he needs to see you to get off. watching your tits sway with each rut of your dripping pussy over his throbbing dick.

just the sight of you on him has him ready to bust, willing his balls not to tighten up again. but the way you rub your puffy, wet clit, low eyes flitting between his face and the mess you’ve made of each other? he don’t think he gon last very long at all.

“mamí— put it in already— you edging me—” his short breaths cut him off and you snicker at his whining, but quickly remember how bad you want that too. even more than the wet hump yall have going at the moment, despite how good that thickness feels under you, your clit catching on every single ridge — and when it bumps against that blushing mushroom head, you have to take a breath to keep from cumming. “i’m not edging you nigga—” you mumble, shuddering from his hot mouth capturing one of your tits.

you lift and slip him in, no resistance, “—mm fuck, you edging me—” your creamy warmth hugs him and it feels heavenly. like he could float right now if your pussy fluttered one more time. his eyes roll back from the pleasure, bucking up into you softly just to feel that little smooch on his tip when he bottoms out. you feel so good it’s almost sickening, your hands gripping his as they work your hips then quickly moving on to your tits, then your plush belly, then down to that throbbing clit peaking out above his dick.

a harsh breath leaves his lips like he was holding it in. “wait— wait— stay here mamí…. this all we need right here…” his words make you lean down to lick into his mouth, tangling tongues and lips because he’s right. sure, yall could do the most and make the bed rock for real but… if you could stay just like this? him pulsing inside you, you fluttering around him so sweetly, forever? you would do it, no question.

“mmm— fuck—” he sucks your tongue mid-make-out and it sets off a chain reaction. your pussy ripples around him, making him twitch against your walls, making you both groan out, hips still working that slow sweaty grind.

but the more you lock lips — caught in that nasty, hot dance — the slower the grind gets, until you’re just sucking each others lips, moaning into each others mouths like nothing else matters. your thighs spread wider over his strong hips so you can sink even deeper down onto him, groaning into his neck at the feeling — him twitching deeper than you’ve ever felt, the head kissing that spot that chokes you up. you feel him in your fuckin throat.

he wraps both arms around your waist, locking you down, stuffed full of him. you kiss the art littering his arms while you savor the feeling - that dull ache licking through your lower belly like a flame. your slick drips down his balls in trails even though neither of you have moved in forever. “fuckkkk— i’m finna cum mamí—” he groans into your lips, gripping you like you’re the only thing tethering him to earth. “cum for me, baby” you whisper into his lips like a naughty secret.

he nuts just like that. no hips snapping, no bed rocking. just a sweet calmness and thick, warm spurts in your belly, that start to leak out around him when that creamy flow just doesn’t stop. you cum right after, heaving into his neck, grinding your clit into the mess of slick and nut between yall. it’s all heavy breathing against each others skin, sloppy kisses around breathy fuckkkk’s, in a cold sweat from the pleasure. tongues sliding in between lips, hands wandering wherever they want. just feeling each other as deep as you possibly can.

so drained you don’t even feel him sneak his hand down between your bodies, but you do feel the sharp, delicious pinch on your clit—

“CON—”

and his stupid snickering before you lay his ass out.

[hongcherry]

REC. || c.sc & k.mg (m)

After Mingyu accidentally stumbles upon Seungcheol and his girlfriend's sex tape, he can't get the footage out of his mind. So much so that when Seungcheol confronts him about his odd behavior, Mingyu can't help but to offer to lend a hand and be their videographer. To Mingyu's surprise, they accept.

📷 Pairing: s.coups (seungcheol) x reader x mingyu 📷 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+)/Smut, fluff/Idol!au, established relationship 📷 Word Count: 6k 📷 Warnings: Voyeurism, exhibitionism, dom!Cheol, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, breast play, creampie, cumplay, oral (m. rec.), gagging, sex tapes, dirty talk, spitting, two spanks lol, rough sex, nicknames (baby, princess, pretty girl), reader has she/her pronouns 📷 Author's Note: Another fic that is finally seeing the light... I forgot I wrote this 😭 I originally had Wonwoo as the third, but I felt Mingyu fit the role better hehe. And TYSM @lovetaroandtaemin for being my beta!

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

When Mingyu asked to borrow Seungcheol’s phone to take a few pictures, he didn’t expect to come across a video of his friend and his girlfriend. Especially one so intimate as this.

Despite his better judgment, Mingyu continues to watch the video. Thankfully, it’s already on mute.

Your back is against Seungcheol’s chest, body completely nude and exposed to the camera. Your legs are shut, but Seungcheol soon lifts one to get a better view of his cock drilling into your pussy. He hooks one arm under your lifted leg’s knee and the other around your neck.

Your hands grip his forearm, a smile donning your pretty face. Seungcheol says something that makes your eyes dart to the camera. The smile on your face slowly fades, replaced with a hazy look and slack jaw.

Seungcheol grins smugly and picks up his pace.

Mingyu doesn’t know where he wants to look. He likes seeing your pussy stretch around Seungcheol’s cock, but he also likes watching your tits bounce with each powerful thrust. Then there’s your face. Gradually, your expression becomes more fucked out.

Suddenly, the phone falls, and the screen goes black. Seungcheol’s face comes into view seconds later. He’s laughing and telling you something.

Seungcheol readjusts the camera, propping it up on whatever he found.

Mingyu watches as he gestures to the bed before you crawl onto it. You go on all fours, lowering your front to make your ass stick up in the air. Mingyu’s eyes are glued to your dripping cunt. It’s shining under the lights and looks so sweet. His mouth nearly begins to salivate from wanting to taste you.

Meanwhile, Seungcheol moves the camera closer and makes sure it’s stable before walking to you.

You’re shaking your ass playfully, which earns you a spanking that you welcome with a smile. Seungcheol shakes his head and then climbs up behind you. Mingyu watches as Seungcheol aligns his cock and slides in again. Your mouth falls open, and you move your head. Unfortunately, Mingyu can’t see your face anymore.

Seungcheol fucks you hard. His hips slam into yours so much that he has to pull you back a few times because you’ve slid too far forward. Mingyu wishes he had the volume on.

Like before, the phone eventually falls. It lands face up, but all that’s shown is the ceiling.

Mingyu waits impatiently for one of you to pick up the phone again, but neither of you does. He figures none of you realize, or you’re just too lost in each other to care. Probably both.

“You done?” Seungcheol asks as he walks up to him.

Mingyu hastily scrolls to a random picture, closes the gallery, and locks the device. He’s not sure how much Seungcheol can read on his face, but he hopes not much.

“Y-yeah. C-Can you send me w-what I took later?” he asks, pushing the phone back in Seungcheol’s hands like it’s a hot potato—hands that were gripping your waist tightly as he rammed into you from behind.

Mingyu swallows harshly at the memory.

“You couldn’t have done that yourself?” Seungcheol questions while pocketing the device.

Mingyu shrugs and gestures to the nearby store.

“I’m going to get a drink. Be right back,” he announces.

Mingyu leaves before Seungcheol can respond. He spends an abnormal amount of time picking out a cold drink and checking out.

By the time he’s back, his friends are sitting at a table. Seungcheol’s talking to someone on the phone while Joshua and Soonyoung are eating their snacks.

“Oh, he’s back,” Seungcheol says and points his phone at him. On the screen is your face. You’re lying in bed on your stomach, grinning and waving. Despite the innocent appearance, he can’t help but think of you getting railed in that same bed by his friend.

“Hi Mingyu! How’s the trip?” you ask.

It takes him a few seconds longer than necessary to answer.

“G-Good!” Is all he can muster.

“I’m glad,” you reply.

Seungcheol moves the camera to face him again while Mingyu quietly takes a seat.

“If you need anything, just call me,” Seungcheol says.

Mingyu hears you laugh.

“I’ll be fine, Cheollie. Enjoy your vacation and don’t get into too much trouble,” you reply.

“I won’t, but I can’t say the same for the others,” Seungcheol jests.

Soonyoung leans over to get into view.

“I’ll keep a close eye on him,” he jokes.

You laugh again. “That’s why you’re my favorite.”

Joshua scoffs and pushes Soonyoung out of the way to look at the screen.

“Seriously?!”

“I meant, he’s my favorite tiger,” you explain.

“I don’t know why you two are arguing, it’s obvious I’m her favorite,” Seungcheol says, borderline whining.

“Hmm, you never know. Maybe I like Mingyu the most,” you sing-song.

Mingyu’s grip on the water bottle tightens. He knows you’re just joking. He knows that even if he was your favorite, that wouldn’t mean anything.

But why does his brain suddenly conjure up an image of you beneath him with that fucked out expression?

Mingyu doesn’t realize Seungcheol has turned the camera to him until he lifts his gaze and sees your face.

“You sleepy, Gyu?” you tease, slowly climbing out of bed. You wear a simple shirt that shows the top of your breasts. He shouldn’t be looking there. He shouldn’t be remembering how they bounced so beautifully.

He clears his throat.

“N-No. I mean, yes! Very tired from walking all day,” he stutters.

He watches as you move to your closet.

“I can imagine,” you reply and flash him another pretty grin. “Well, get some rest, okay?”

Mingyu nods.

You open your closet and begin fiddling through some of your options.

“Cheol?” You call out.

Seungcheol moves the phone again, and Mingyu feels he can finally breathe.

“You heading out?” he asks.

“Yeah, I need to leave soon or else I’ll be late,” you say.

“Okay. Be safe, baby,” Seungcheol replies.

“Always, handsome. Bye bye!”

Seungcheol waves at the camera with a big smile before setting his phone down. He, Soonyoung, and Joshua ease back into conversation like nothing happened, which nothing major did happen. Everyone’s used to each other having partners and being friendly with them. Seungcheol and you have been together long enough to be comfortable with everyone.

Mingyu just wishes he could burn that video from his mind so he can go back to normal. He’s always thought you were attractive, but he’s never seen you in that way until now. Never wanted you like that until now. He knows he’s in big trouble.

A week passed, and much to Mingyu’s misery, he couldn’t erase that video from his head. What makes matters worse is he’s touched himself thinking of it. He’s made up some elaborate story of how it ended since he never got to see or hear it.

In his story, he makes an appearance. Somehow, he talked his way into joining the fun. You’re laid on your back, taking Seungcheol’s cock in your pussy while swallowing his dick. All the while, it’s filmed in the same position as it was previously.

Mingyu tries to rid the memory. He watches countless porn videos to replace your and Seungcheol’s in his mind. However, nothing works.

Anytime he’s around Seungcheol or near him, all he can think about is that video. Now that he’s back in town, he fears he’ll run into you too.

Seungcheol’s asked him multiple times if anything was wrong, but Mingyu always denied it. How can he tell his friend he saw the video of him fucking his girlfriend? How can he say he jerked off to said video? Imagining his friend’s girlfriend pleasuring him in that same way? He can’t confess that. He will never.

At least that’s what he vowed in his head.

“Come on, you’ve been avoiding me. What’d I do wrong?” Seungcheol says. He’s finally got Mingyu cornered.

“Nothing,” Mingyu replies, gaze averted.

“You can’t even look at me, yet nothing’s wrong?” Seungcheol scoffs, showing gradual irritation.

Mingyu swallows harshly. He knows his days are numbered. He tried to get over it, but it’s obvious he can’t. He either needs to confess his sins or let his friendship with Seungcheol fade because of his avoidance.

Releasing a deep sigh, Mingyu mutters, “I saw the video.”

“What video?” Seungcheol asks, confused.

“The, uh, video of… you and Yn,” he replies quietly.

Mingyu peers up to see Seungcheol’s shocked face. Then, his ears begin to redden, and his brows furrow. Mingyu’s not sure if he’s mad or embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean to! I was j-just checking the pictures I took and clicked it by accident!“ Mingyu explains hurriedly before he gets scolded.

Seungcheol lifts a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing the muscles.

“I guess I shouldn’t have let you borrow my phone after all,” Seungcheol mumbles sheepishly. “Sorry you had to see that.”

Mingyu doesn’t reply because he’s not sure how to respond. What’s he to do now? Will confessing this secret make that memory fade away now? Should he go on his knees and beg for forgiveness, even if it was an accident?

“I’m sorry I was careless,” he finally answers. “I-Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “That won’t be necessary.”

Mingyu’s going to let it slide, but when he speaks, it’s not what he means to say.

“I could film for you,” he blurts.

Seungcheol’s eyebrows skyrocket, and he turns to Mingyu with a look of shock and disbelief.

“W-What? Film? You mean…” Seungcheol trails off like he’s imagining Mingyu’s offer.

Mingyu probably appears surprised, like Seungcheol, but to a lesser degree. He didn’t mean to say that.

“I just… the camera kept falling, you know, and you couldn’t see—”

“Are you criticizing our video skills?” Seungcheol asks, still confused.

“N-No!” Mingyu frantically stutters. “I just meant to imply I could make sure it looks nice for you t-two. For when you want to… uh… watch it back and stuff.”

Mingyu’s not sure why he keeps talking himself into a grave. The more his words register in his mind, the more he feels like crawling into a hole. He can’t believe he just offered his friend to be the videographer of his sex tapes. Absolutely absurd.

And yet…

“I can, um, ask Yn about it,” Seungcheol replies. “We only filmed them so we’d have something when we go on tours. I don’t know if she’d want something more… professional.”

Mingyu nods, keeping his mouth shut in case any more ridiculous nonsense comes out.

Two days later, Mingyu finds himself standing across from you and Seungcheol in your bedroom. He toys with the phone in his hand anxiously.

“You don’t have to do this, Gyu,” you say when you notice his fidgeting.

Mingyu shakes his head. “It’s not that. I just don’t want to make you both feel awkward.”

You grin and grab Seungcheol’s hand.

“We talked about it, and we’re both okay with this. Since none of us has done this before, it probably will be a little weird at first, but I think it’ll get better after a while.”

You glance at Seungcheol as if expecting him to say something. He nods and clears his throat.

“And you’ve already seen the video, so not everything will be new to you,” he says.

You roll your eyes playfully.

“I guess that’s true too,” you add.

Mingyu inhales a deep breath and releases it steadily.

“Okay,” he says like he’s mentally preparing himself. Which, in a way, he is. He knows this is the point of no return. He knows this is a dangerous spot to be in. He doesn’t expect either of you to open your relationship to him, but he can’t help but wonder if this will be a one-time thing. Selfishly, he wishes it wouldn’t be. However, he doesn’t want to come between your relationship and won’t complain if this is his only chance.

“Are you going to direct us or,” you fade off.

Mingyu shakes his head. “I wasn’t going to.”

It’s not that Mingyu wouldn’t want to, but he figures he’s doing a favor for you both. He would rather you consider him a fly on the wall than an actual spectator. Though if this were to happen again in the future, maybe he’d change his answer.

Nodding, you glance between both men.

“So, how should this start?” you ask.

Seungcheol looks at Mingyu for guidance. Mingyu finds it a little ironic that even though he said he wasn’t going to direct, he already is.

“You can just start the way you normally would?” Mingyu suggests while lifting the camera. “Kissing or touching.”

“Sounds easy enough,” you tease lightly.

Mingyu hits RECORD as you both lean in, mouths finding each other halfway. The kiss starts a little tentatively. Mingyu knows it’s because of his presence, so he stays still, wanting you both to forget he’s there.

After a couple more glides of the tongues, you do. The kiss gets more heated, hands get more touchy.

Mingyu slowly creeps up, wanting a closer view of how your lips move in tandem. He captures the way your tongues glide against each other. Sometimes, one of you will nip at the other’s lips and make the other smile.

Seungcheol ends up breaking the kiss so he can tug off your shirt and bra. He leans down to suck one of your nipples in his mouth.

Your head falls onto one of your shoulders, lifting a hand to tangle in his locks. You watch Seungcheol rapidly flick his tongue against your nipple. He gives you a smile when his eyes meet yours.

You’re so caught up with Seungcheol that you forget about Mingyu until he shifts.

Your gaze flickers up to the phone in his hand.

Mingyu catches your eyes through the screen. His heart skips a beat, shifting again nervously. You release a silent chuckle and open your mouth to say something when Seungcheol bites down.

“Focus on me,” Seungcheol says and kisses your breast.

You gasp and nod, pulling him toward your other nipple. Your mouth falls when he latches on and sucks harshly.

Seungcheol glides a hand up your leg and into your shorts. He grazes his fingers over your folds to see if you’re wet. You are.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your skin. He pulls away, hastily tugging down your shorts and underwear. You kick them off to the side.

Seungcheol grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap, your legs on either side of his. The second you’re situated, you lean down and kiss him.

Seungcheol hums into the kiss as he snakes his hand down to rub your clit. Your hips jerk at the touch, and you clutch his shoulders tightly. He chuckles.

“Your body responds so easily,” he hums.

He trails his fingers south, running them through your folds and groaning lowly in your ear at how wet you are. Carefully, he eases two fingers halfway.

You inhale sharply and lean your chest into Seungcheol.

Mingyu unintentionally holds his breath as he watches through the phone. There’s something so sexy about you being the only one naked in the room. He watches your body tense as Seungcheol pulls his fingers out, then pushes them back in. He does this until he works your dripping pussy open enough to fit the digits all the way.

As Seungcheol begins pumping his fingers in your pussy, his gaze flickers to Mingyu and the camera. Mingyu’s zeroed in on your pussy, so Seungcheol knows his face won’t be in view.

Seungcheol didn’t think he’d be so turned on by one of his friends filming him and his partner like this, but he is. He likes it even more seeing how affected Mingyu is—evident by his tight pants. It strokes his ego, and he feels proud that he has someone as attractive and loyal as you.

“Spread your ass, baby,” Seungcheol whispers in your ear. “Give Mingyu a pretty view of me stretching your pussy for later.”

You nod as you reach back, gripping your ass cheeks and pulling them apart.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs.

He spreads his fingers apart, slowly stretching your hole more. You whimper into his neck and grip your ass harder. Seungcheol eases his separated fingers out, making sure Mingyu is capturing it. Then, he shoves them back in and rapidly pumps them.

You cry out a moan, lifting your hips up but only having them pushed back down by Seungcheol’s free hand. You’re so wet that the squelching is deafening. You nuzzle your face in Seungcheol’s neck in embarrassment.

Seungcheol chuckles.

“I bet you’re dripping everywhere, baby,” he hums and pulls out. He gives your pussy one harsh slap that makes your body jolt. Your hands shoot forward onto his chest to keep your balance.

“So wet and ready for my cock, hm?”

“Yes,” you mewl. “Need you inside me so bad.”

He hums, then lowers both his hands to rub your inner thighs, feeling them wet from your arousal. He smiles and spreads your juices over more of your legs and ass. He wants you shining in it.

Then an idea pops into his head. His big hands grab fistfuls of your ass and spreads it apart again.

“Spit on her cunt, Mingyu.”

Both you and Mingyu suck in a breath, and for some reason, that alone makes his ego grow.

“W-What?” Mingyu asks, stunned eyes rising above the phone to look at his friend. He feels his heart race at the idea. He didn’t think he’d participate at all.

“Spit,” Seungcheol commands.

Mingyu starts to lower the camera but quickly adjusts it to keep your pussy in view. He leans forward and fuck, you smell even better up close. He has to resist the urge to lap up your juices and instead, does as Seungcheol wants and spits on your exposed cunt.

Seungcheol's fingers glide through your folds, smearing your arousal mixed with Mingyu’s spit.

Mingyu can feel his pants getting tighter. He knows it’s not the same as touching you, but seeing your pussy covered in his spit makes his mind a little hazy.

“How does that feel, princess?” Seungcheol asks you. “Mingyu’s spit making you wetter and more ready for me.”

“Again, please,” you whine.

Seungcheol smiles.

“Such a filthy little thing,” he chides.

This time, Seungcheol carefully spreads your folds instead, letting Mingyu see your entrance.

“You heard her,” Seungcheol says.

Mingyu doesn’t hesitate and spits as much as he can on your pretty cunt. He watches as it slowly slides down.

Seungcheol removes his hands and sets you on the bed.

“All the way up, baby,” he instructs.

Mingyu watches on dazed. He hopes the camera captured all that, but it’s difficult to focus now. He just wants to spread your pussy so he can see his spit. It turns him on even more knowing you can probably feel him better since Seungcheol didn’t mess with it. Mingyu’s fingers twitch with the thought of feeling just how wet you are.

In the meantime, Seungcheol has rid himself of his clothes and has climbed on top of you.

Mingyu tries hard to snap out of his stupor so he can get good angles.

Seungcheol spreads your legs far apart, then adjusts himself so his knees hold you open. It’s the perfect view of your soaking cunt, which Mingyu figures is the reason Seungcheol chose this position. The aforementioned man leans down to kiss you, rubbing his tip along your folds at the same time.

Mingyu wants to get your faces on screen, but he doesn’t want to compromise the sight he has now.

Your hips buck anytime Seungcheol rubs your clit and Mingyu nearly offers to help you. Though he keeps his lips sealed and comes closer. He makes sure the camera’s in focus.

Seungcheol finally slips his cock in, earning him a loud mewl from you. Your legs tense for just the briefest moment before relaxing.

Seungcheol eases inside so easily, it makes Mingyu jealous. It’s obvious he has no issues pushing in all the way due to how drenched you are, yet he takes his time so you feel every inch of him.

Mingyu’s jaw slacks at seeing your pussy stretching around his friend’s cock.

“Fuck, you’re the perfect fit, pretty girl,” Seungcheol groans, hips pressing against yours.

“All yours, Cheollie,” you say and shift your hips, eager for more.

“That I am.” He smiles.

Seungcheol starts off with steady thrusts, allowing your body to get used to his thick cock.

“Harder,” you whine and tug on his waist.

“Harder?” Seungcheol chuckles. “Why? You wanna show Mingyu how much you can take?”

You say nothing, but Mingyu gets the sense that Seungcheol’s right.

“If that’s what you want,” Seungcheol says. Then quieter, “Let me know if it’s too much.”

“Okay.”

With one last kiss, Seungcheol lifts his hips and then slams back down.

Mingyu hears you curse, but the sound gets lost when Seungcheol does it again. Each powerful thrust gets quicker until he’s ramming into you like he’s releasing some pent-up frustration.

Your hands tighten on his waist as if prepared to stop him, but Seungcheol grasps your wrists and pins them to the mattress.

“You can take this, princess,” Seungcheol gruffs. “I know you can. Doing so well already. Keep going.”

Mingyu watches through the camera as Seungcheol glides his cock roughly in and out. The sounds of skin hitting skin and your consistent moans are like ecstasy to his ears.

Seungcheol gives one final push before he stills. He’s breathing heavier, but he only takes a few seconds to rest before he’s rocking his hips into yours.

“So good,” Seungcheol praises and kisses you roughly.

Mingyu moves from his position to capture your faces. The kiss is so heated, Mingyu figures you both have forgotten he’s here.

Small whines come from you that get lost in Seungcheol’s mouth. Your bodies rock gently for a moment, and then Seungcheol gradually picks up speed. However, he doesn’t go as fast as before.

Mingyu pans the camera to a wider angle so he can get your bare chest in view.

Seungcheol lifts himself and runs his hands across your body to grip your breasts while still moving his hips. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, causing your back to arch. He pinches both nipples and tugs them upward.

“Cheol,” you gasp, body lifting more off the mattress to ease the pain. Seungcheol releases them and quickly rubs your breasts to soothe them. They bounce in his hands from his thrusts, and Mingyu has the quickest thought of what it’d be like to be in Seungcheol’s position. He wonders if your breasts would look just as beautiful in his hands as they do in his friend’s.

Seungcheol glides his hands lower to grip your waist. Your back rests on the bed once more, but your head is thrown back when Seungcheol starts snapping his hips rougher and faster.

“Shit,” you moan.

Mingyu steps slightly closer, tightening the angle so it’s just your face and chest.

Your tits bounce more with Seungcheol’s speed, and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.

“Look at the camera, princess,” Seungcheol instructs.

Your eyes flutter open, turning your head in Mingyu’s direction. Mingyu feels a rush to his cock from making eye contact through the screen again. Your eyes are slightly glossed over, and your mouth is ajar.

“Tell him how you feel,” Seungcheol says.

You smile. “So good,” you giggle, but the end gets cut off with another moan from Seungcheol sliding in harshly.

“Cheollie feels so good,” you murmur pathetically. “So big in me.”

Seungcheol squeezes your body at your words, making you smile.

Your gaze drops from the camera, and Mingyu’s bulge comes into your field of vision. You can tell how turned on he is, and it makes you grin bigger. It’s not necessarily because you want him in such a way, but it feels good knowing you had that effect.

Mingyu notices you staring at his crotch, causing his cheeks to heat. The majority of him feels embarrassed at having been caught with a tent in his pants, but another part wishes you had your lips wrapped around his cock as Seungcheol fucks you. That part of his brain makes his cock twitch. He uses all the will in his body to stay put. 

You tear your attention away and reach out to Seungcheol, your loving boyfriend who agreed to do this. He intertwines your hands and raises them above your head. He gives you one long kiss before he speaks.

“What do you need, princess?” he asks.

“Wanna come,” you pout.

He laughs. “That so?”

Your hips rock forward to try to coax him to go faster.

“Yes,” you say.

Seungcheol smiles and kisses you again. He pulls away just enough to whisper, “Okay.”

Your mouth stretches in a grin, quickly leaning up and pecking his lips. Seungcheol chases your lips and kisses you fervently. As he does, his hand slides between your bodies to circle your clit.

You moan into his mouth, and Seungcheol takes the opportunity to dip his tongue inside.

Although Mingyu wants to stay, he moves to the edge of the bed so he can watch you take Seungcheol’s cock again.

Seungcheol rubs your clit quickly while snapping his hips into yours roughly.

Your cries get louder and more jumbled as you near your orgasm. Your legs tense, hips bucking wildly to chase that pleasure you crave. Soon, you’re cumming around Seungcheol’s cock. Your juices squirt everywhere as Seungcheol continues to thrust inside. Some of it lands on Mingyu’s hand. His eyes drop to it and before he’s caught or second-guesses his craving, he sucks the substances into his mouth.

Holy fucking shit, you taste like heaven.

Seungcheol gives you a moment to ride out your climax before he focuses on his own. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, making your hips rise slightly off the mattress. Mingyu’s cock jumps in his pants again from jealousy of being so deep in your sweet cunt.

“C-Cheol! Oh fuck, baby. Shit,” you cry out. Your fingers claw at his back, leaving trails of red in their wake.

“Fuck, baby,” Seungcheol rasps. “Y’want my cum so bad you’re squeezing around me tighter. Can barely move.”

Mingyu watches with rapt attention as Seungcheol continues to drill his cock in your spent pussy. Your juices dampen the sheets below and linger on your and Seungcheol’s bodies. Mingyu wants to lick up your thighs and gather it all in his mouth.

Seungcheol’s sudden low groan fills the room. It’s the loudest he’s been all night. He keeps his hips against yours, cock twitching as he empties his load.

His head falls onto your chest, and your hands quickly tangle in his hair to comfort him. You both stay like this for a few minutes—long enough to make Mingyu feel like he’s suddenly intruding. Though before he can sneak away, Seungcheol carefully slips his cock out. He sets down your legs and moves to the side.

Mingyu steps closer. He angles the camera low.

Seungcheol nudges your legs wider and spreads your folds again. Both men watch as Seungcheol’s white cum leaks out of your fluttering hole.

“Doesn’t she look so pretty filled with my cum, Mingyu?” Seungcheol questions. He lets the majority of it seep out before gathering it up on his fingers and smearing it over your pussy.

Mingyu finds it hard to speak, so he just nods.

Seungcheol’s focus drops to his friend’s pants. Even if Mingyu wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to hide his hard-on.

“We talked about this before, and we wanted to give you a reward for filming us,” Seungcheol says.

He reaches back for your hand to help you sit up. Seungcheol grabs a pillow, then you both climb off the bed and step closer to Mingyu.

Mingyu’s thoughts are everywhere, and all he can do is stand frozen.

After tossing the pillow onto the floor, Seungcheol places his hands on your shoulders to push you down gently onto your knees.

Mingyu’s mouth opens to talk, but nothing comes out. He stares down at you with big eyes.

Seungcheol takes the camera from him.

“Will you let Yn take care of you, or would you rather do that in private?” Seungcheol asks.

Normally, Seungcheol wouldn’t allow this to happen. He’s possessive, so what’s his is his only. But Mingyu��s a close friend, and he’s already seen so much. He trusts you won’t leave him, so he decided to make an exception.

“R-Really? You both are o-okay with t-this?” Mingyu finally finds his voice.

“Yes. We already had a discussion and came to an agreement,” Seungcheol explains.

Mingyu glances at his friend and then at you. You give him a reassuring smile, nodding. Despite you being tired, you’re still willing to relieve Mingyu.

Mingyu’s heart is pounding in his chest. His dream is coming true.

The moment he nods, your hands start unbuttoning his pants.

Mingyu stares down at you, still surprised this is actually happening.

“Poor Guy,” you murmur when you expose him. His big cock is hard and precum has soaked his underwear. “Had to wait so long.”

“S’okay,” he mutters.

You giggle and start to raise a hand to stroke him, but Seungcheol stops you. You and Mingyu turn to him in puzzlement.

A bit of shame creeps into Mingyu’s chest at having forgotten he was here. It’s a reminder that you’re not his. You’re Seungcheol’s.

Seungcheol reaches down between your legs, causing you to gasp. When his hand comes up, he’s got some of his cum on his fingers. He spreads it on Mingyu’s cock, which twitches at the contact. Then, Seungcheol pushes his fingers into your mouth so you can clean him up. Once you do, he motions for you to continue.

You circle Mingyu’s girthy cock with your hands and use Seungcheol's cum to slide your hands easier. Mingyu’s mouth falls open at having finally felt pleasure where he needs it.

You give him a few more pumps before your lips spread around his tip.

Mingyu curses, and his head dips back. He feels your tongue lick at his slit, which makes him moan.

Slowly, you ease him down your throat until you gag. Mingyu lifts his head so he can see you take his cock.

Your head bobs while your hands stroke the length not in your mouth. You’re sucking and licking his cock so well that he has to force himself not to come right away.

“How does her mouth feel?” Seungcheol asks.

Mingyu snaps his gaze to his friend and sees he’s got the camera pointed down toward you. His cock jerks in your mouth knowing this is all being recorded. That he’s finally on the other end of the lens.

“Like heaven,” Mingyu replies.

You smile around his dick and give his thighs a squeeze.

“Come on, baby. Give him more. Don’t you think he deserves it?” Seungcheol coaxes.

You nod and then take Mingyu’s cock farther down your throat. You gag but try to focus on something other than that feeling.

Seungcheol reaches out and grabs some of your hair.

“If you can take me all the way, you can take him,” he says and pushes you down slowly.

Your hands tighten on Mingyu’s thighs as your boyfriend shoves your head down deeper—all the way until your nose touches his pelvis.

“Shit,” Mingyu groans. His focus is glued to your mouth, stretched so wide around his aching cock. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he locks them behind his head.

“That’s it, princess,” Seungcheol coos. He pulls your head back slightly, then pushes you down again. He does this until you take control and do it yourself a few times.

Eventually, you slide off his cock so you can breathe. Seungcheol rubs your head as you cough a few times.

“You okay?” he asks.

You glance up at him and nod. He gives you an encouraging smile, pecks your lips, then turns you to face Mingyu again.

When your gaze meet his, Mingyu’s heart drops. Your eyes are watery, and some drool lingers around your lips and chin.

“Need you again,” he murmurs, shifting a hand to move some of your hair from your face.

You giggle and kiss his tip. “I know, Gyu.”

Then your mouth sinks onto him again. You suck his cock quickly, mouth and hands wrapped around him tightly.

Mingyu’s breathing gets heavier. He wants to put his hands in your hair, but he doesn’t know if that’s too much. Instead, he keeps his hands clasped behind his neck.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Mingyu grunts. He knows it hasn’t been long, but after watching you two fuck without being able to touch himself, he already was near his end.

Seungcheol tangles his fingers in your hair again and eases you down all the way.

“Let him fill my pretty girl’s mouth,” Seungcheol says.

You squeeze your legs together, arousal coating your inner thighs again. Your refound neediness makes you suck him harder.

Mingyu feels overstimulated already. Your mouth feels so perfect, and your sounds are so beautiful. He loves listening to his cock gliding in and out of your tight throat.

Mingyu doesn’t mean to, but he ends up thrusting into your mouth. He’s so close that his mind is only focused on chasing his high. You moan around him when he starts fucking your mouth and that’s what does him in. The vibrations spill him over the edge.

Seungcheol forces you to stay still as Mingyu shoots his warm cum down your throat, his moans filling the room.

You watch as pure bliss falls upon Mingyu’s expression and another dose of pride fills your chest.

Once he’s come down from his climax, he looks down. Your mouth still engulfs him whole, and your lashes are still damp. He wants to stay here longer, but he shouldn’t.

Carefully, he slides out of your mouth.

He watches you swallow the remaining of his cum and turn to Seungcheol. He’s tossed the phone onto the bed.

“You’re hard again,” you observe with a teasing grin.

Mingyu’s attention lowers to Seungcheol and sees he’s indeed hard.

Seungcheol laughs and helps you up.

“Maybe if you weren’t so sexy sucking Mingyu’s dick, I wouldn’t be,” he jests.

“Can’t help it. I’m naturally sexy,” you joke back.

Seungcheol wraps his arms around you and kisses your head. He looks up at his friend with a warm smile.

“Thanks for the favor,” he says.

Against Mingyu’s better judgment, his eyes linger on you a little too long.

“No problem,” he replies and dresses himself.

Seungcheol puts on his underwear again and gives you his shirt.

“Get home safe, Gyu,” you say once you’re dressed.

Mingyu nods. He wants to ask if you’ll send him his part of the video, but something about having a film of his friend’s partner sucking him off feels wrong. Nonetheless, he still wishes he had it.

“T-Thanks for the, uh, help,” he says.

You glance away shyly. “No problem. You deserved it.”

Mingyu wonders what else he can do to deserve it again.

Seungcheol comes up behind you and wraps an arm around your waist.

“Thanks again,” Seungcheol says.

Mingyu nods and starts heading for the door. You and Seungcheol follow him out.

“Bye, Gyu,” you call out with a wave when he opens the door. Mingyu forces a smile, waving back as he leaves the apartment.

After the door shuts, Mingyu stands still for a moment as everything starts registering in his mind. He doesn’t want to put any thought into what happened, because he might start reading into it. It was just a favor, and people have sex without meaning all the time. Not that your and Seungcheol’s sex is meaningless, but the head you gave him is.

Mingyu groans slightly and trudges away. What has he done?

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

Taglist: @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @aeerio, @cherrylovescheol, @toplinehyunjin, @verogonewild

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[cottonlemonade]

Booktok Challenge

word count: 731 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: husband!Tsukishima x chubby!Reader

warnings: suggestive

“Soooo, you love me, right?”

Your husband looked up from the magazine he had been flipping through in bed when you plopped down next to him, feet crossed, swaying in the air behind you.

“That strongly depends on how the rest of this conversation is gonna go.”, Kei said.

You beamed because that wasn’t a no and stretched to the side to quickly snatch a book from your nightstand.

“I’d like to try something.” Wiggling the book in his face, you looked at him over the top of the cover excitedly, then opened it to get to a red tag somewhere near the middle.

“No.”

“Baby.”

“I won’t tie you to the bed and degrade you.”

You pouted, mumbling something about him always being mean, but suddenly, when it came to the bedroom, he was a saint. You fiddled with the next red tab and opened your mouth to speak when he shook his head again, “I also won’t take you in a public restroom.”

“How do you know what my tabs stand for?”

“Because while your headphones may be noise canceling for you, they aren’t sound canceling for me. I hear what your booktok girls talk about.”

“Fine… what about…”, you grabbed a blue tab and slowly turned the page, holding the marked passage up to him to read. Your husband adjusted his glasses and leaned in to skim the text, then raised a highly judgmental brow.

“And that’ll make you happy?”

“No time like the present to find out!”

He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed the magazine in his lap. “Fine.”

“Alright, I’ll need you to be a bit more enthusiastic, babe.”

“I’m cold.”, he deadpanned, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his sweatpants.

To stay true to the scene you had led him out onto the balcony after instructing him to lose his shirt. Even though it was almost July, a heavy downpour from earlier had lowered the temperature significantly, leading your husband to shiver like an angry chihuahua in the cool night breeze.

“Okay, so you stand there and I’ll lean against the wall.”, you explained, “Kinda like this, I think. Wait. Like this, yes. And then you pretty much… kabedon me, basically.”

“I read the scene.”

You remained unperturbed and continued your little rambling, “And then with your left hand you just grab my chin-“

“I get it, I get it. - I can’t believe I’m doing this. Stand still so we can get this over with.”

Your determination quickly turned into giddiness and incoherent screeching when your shirtless husband did as instructed, and his scowl grew deeper whenever you had to stop him before he could even say his line because him towering over you like that, his long toned arm right next to your temple was too much to handle.

“Who did this to- will you stop laughing? I was almost done.”

“Sorry! Sorry!”, you patted your own chubby cheeks with both hands to regain some composure and looked up at him again - all hot in his annoyance and concern about your sanity.

You had to suck in your bottom lip not to squeak again when he - for the fourth time - slapped his palm against the wall to “trap” you and leaned in close, his long fingers grabbing your chin and tilting your face to meet his eyes.

“Who did thi- are you done? Good. Then stop laughing and focus. - Who did this-“ He stepped back again and clicked his tongue impatiently. “One more time. And if you can’t keep it together we’re going back inside.”

“Okay! Okay. Give me a moment.”

He watched as you took a few deep breaths, then rolled your shoulders and slumped against the wall again, expectantly.

This time when he leaned in close he used his free hand to cover your mouth so you wouldn’t laugh, his gaze unyielding as he recited the all-important line, “Who did this to you?…” Because he could feel a muffled delighted scream bubble under his palm he dipped his head to your neck, keeping your mouth covered as he nipped at your skin. Your eyes widened and rolled back when his legs pushed between your plush thighs. Finally, he let go of your mouth just in time for you to gasp his name as he marked your neck again, just like the character in the book.

[heejakeswifeyyy]

~ENHYPEN fic recommendations (hyung-line (heeseung and Jay) )

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these stories!!! I’m simply appreciating the writers work . Kisses to all these amazing writers who wrote those amazing fanfics💋💋💋

Some of these have nsfw so mdni!!!!!

•Lee Heeseung

1. You make me @heesdreamer (stranger heeseung )

one of first fics ive read when I first joined tumblr I love this smmmmmm!!!!!

2. Player rank : platinum @simpjaes (sisters bf)

Is is even an Enhypen fic recommendations without simpjaes being mentioned????? Her work is just so good and well written

3. Only if you say yes @jaylaxies (Enemies to lovers)

I literally love all her work . Her brain just works differently yall 😣😣 wanna kiss it fr

4. I’m burning hot pt2 @orimuraa (idol x idol )

Idk if it’s just me but I’ve been looking for idol x idol fics for SO LONG and this was really good

5. Reasons to (hate) love you @hoonjayke (Academic rivals)

Words can’t describe how much I enjoyed this 😞💋

6. Cumming of age @enhaflixer (bfs brother)

Okay first of all big warning for this!!!!! I FUCKING LOVE IT??????? This is just crazy cuz it’s so well written

7. Miscommunication @jayparked (best friends to lovers)

Okay hear me out I usually don’t like this trope but when the writer is amazing as this u gotta expect a masterpiece

8.waiting room @heejamas (friends to lovers)

Same thing with this one literally amazing

9. Childhood best friends complex, p2 , p3 @myinaru (best friends to lovers)

Can u tell that I LOVE long fics? Low-key felt like I can went through my own break up 😭😭😭 an emotional ride fssss!!!

10. Make be mine @cutehoons02 (hybrid deer hee)

I literally lover all her work and this is just a chefs kiss fr💋

11. Nothing safe is worth the drive @calumcxke (playboy heeseung x inexperienced reader)

I LITERALLY REMEMBER WAITING FOR THIS bro I low-key felt so jobless waiting for this I’m literally an adult for ffs 😞😞 but who gives a fuck this was so worth the wait 💋

12. No hands @jaeyuniversal (loser heeseung)

3 fucking words : A FUCKING MASTERPIECE!!!!!!!!

13. Trapped @lassiie (step brother hee)

SHE WRITES SO WELLL I CANTTTTTRRRR PLEASE READ THIS?!!!!!

14. Kiss me he’s watching @enhaflixer (stranger hee)

I feel like I got so into it 😭😭😭 but so worth it <3

15. Closing shift @manifestobackshot (coworkers)

again literally waited so long for this AND IT WAS SO WORTH ITTTTTT the ending made me a bit sad tho :/

More under the cut

•Park Jay

1. Speed it up @mssishipi (bf Jay)

She lowk never disappoints I wanted to recommend other things but like there’s so much other good things 😭😭😭

2.Babysitter @jaysbaefie (age-gap / CEO Jay cheabol reader)

THE TENSION!???????

3. Pushing all my buttons @gyuuberryy (bodyguard Jay)

I literally love all her works they’re so funny and good?!!!!

4. DTF (Jake x reader x Jay) @simpjaes (neighbour Jay . Jake and reader are married)

Again it’s simpjaes what do y’all expect her work is always so yummy 😋

5. My kink is karma @sundives (strangers to lovers)

This was such a ride I love writers who pick up the pen and decide today I’m gonna destroy everyone with what I wrote

6. The art & science of parenting 101 @jakesimfromstatefarm (Academic rivals)

I LOVE LOVE LOVE ALL HER WORKS SHES SUCH A SWEETHEART 22😭😭

7. Leather jackets @cutehoons02 (frat gym boy Jay x book girl reader)

YALL YOURE GONNA BE SEEING LOTS OF HER WORKS RECOMMENDED HERE SO BARE WITH ME 

8. Symphony of us @heartsriki (band mates)

THIS MADE GO UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH IT WAS SO GOOOOOODDD😣😣😣

9. Yours (maybe?) pt2 @jaylaxies (Jake x reader x Jay) (academic rivals to lovers)

10. Shoe designer Jay x cheabol reader @hoondrop

Sigh I love being manhandled what can I sigh 🫩

11. Pretty kitty @sunniques (hybrid cat reader)

The smut was smutting fr DONT even argue w me on this one 🥹

12. Bad romance @cutehoons02 (vampire ceo single dad Jay)

the tension was so real bro I felt it irl istg….

13. Hate to have you @heesmiles (hocky player Jay)

Didn’t continue this yet but bro I’m literally dying I wanna finish it so bad but (WARNING) I have work😰

14. The intern @jaysbaefie

Pls I need her writing injected in my veins and blood

15. Burn the city for me @wetdarkprincess (Mafia au )

I LIVE FOR THIS 💋💋

YALL I promise I was adding Jake and Sunghoon but my laptop started to crash out so in p2 ig 🥰🥰🥰 pls DONT hate me 😰 anyways I really wanted to add more heeseung and Jay fics but Yk

I’m so so so sorry for all the writers I tagged 😭😭😭😭😭 pls forgive me 🙏