#drabble: love daze

[citrustan]

Hey, Citrus!! I miss seeing your stories and posts on the tl! Do you have a "love-daze" update for us? 🤤

hi!!! thank youuu wee i thought you'd never ask wink wink. this is a follow up to love-daze (myg) so please read that first!!

love-daze (myg) #2

title: only when no one's looking

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: unrequited love (but is it....?) n friends to lovers but yoongi's a tad uneasy because well yk

warnings: you and yoongi run into a little problem. a little heavier on the angst this time! non linear storytelling, lmk if you find it confusing because this was written in a haste.

"I have a problem," you say, mostly to yourself.

Nini just happens to be in the room. She looks at you intently, waiting for an explanation.

You debate whether or not this problem is even worth discussing. On one hand, you already have the solution but won't exercise it, but on the other, whining about it will certainly make you feel a lot better. But do you deserve that relief?

“It’s kind of complicated,” you murmur, more to buy time than anything.

You're now dating dating Yoongi. Technically. Emotionally. Exclusively. But only in private. Because Yoongi refuses to be open about it as to lessen his ex's pain. (But, in turn, he's risking yours.)

It's not like you're dying to be out and about, paraded around as his girlfriend, but when he goes out of his way to protect his ex's feelings, it stings.

"Yoongi won't date me openly," you blurt, "-because his ex is in the same friend circle, and I'm kind of over it." It comes out more blunt than you intended.

You don't know how she'll handle this. You could have worded that better though.

She sinks into the couch, next to you, giving you her undivided attention. She squints for second, trying to remember where she saw Yoongi.

Jennie (or Nini) moved in only two weeks ago, so she has limited knowledge of your life.

Yeah, yeah, point and laugh. You're a grown woman with a roommate. It's a tough economy. Teaching doesn't pay your bills anymore. You had to find a side gig, and this is it. Renting.

Pride took a back seat somewhere around your third bounced paycheck.

"Yoongi's your boyfriend?" She looked surprised, finally connecting the name to the face.

"I mean, kind of. We've never really discussed it in that many words." You pause. "We're only dating each other right now, isn't that all that counts?"

"Yeah, more or less, yes." Nini nods along before adding, "But I still don't see the issue. If you're secure, why does it matter whether or not you're openly secure? I mean, if I were in your shoes, I'd be lowkey too."

TLDR: I'd keep my head down if I were you.

That irritates you more than you'd like to admit.

"No, but you don't know..." You trail off, sighing. You hope this doesn't turn into an argument. "I know it sounds bad right now, but this has been a long time coming." You sounded like you were convincing yourself.

"Yoongi and I were friends first. I've always liked him. She knew it too. Everyone did."

Nini's eyes widen, "Oh! Sure, that makes sense. I mean making the moves on your friend's ex is a little..." She smiles awkwardly, "I mean, I'm not judging."

You felt the need to defend your choices, "I didn't make moves on him. Yoongi came to me. And Sera isn't really a friend, she never was. We were friendly but that's it. We've never been anything more than convenient company to each other."

You feel crazy trying to explain yourself to an almost-stranger.

Jennie shook her head in reassurance, "I get it! I'm not attacking you, I'm just... You know, sharing my perspective."

You throw a beady-eyed glance at her, trying to figure out if she hates you yet. Because that was the reaction you had gotten from most of your friends. Her friends.

They couldn't stop talking about it when they saw you kissing Yoongi at some deli.

Once, someone spotted you at a dinner date and actually went as far as to take pictures of you.

Obviously, they circulated back to the two of you.

Yoongi wasn't pleased.

Another time, you and Yoongi ran into Sera and her best friend at a Claire's.

That was the last place you expected Sera to be at.

You had only wanted to find a cheap belly button ring.

How was that the first time you came into contact after the break-up? At a Claire's?

You should've accepted Yoongi's offer to buy you a custom made ring. But he wanted to take you to Swarovski. And you thought they were a scam. You could get the same quality of stuff for way lesser at other places.

You tried to pretend to not have seen them but then she greeted you while her friend glared at you.

Which obviously made you look insanely rude.

But hello? Wasn't it an unwritten rule for the ex to not acknowledge the new girl? Or were you just childish?

You awkwardly force a smile.

The four of you just stood there. In the middle of a Claire's. All staring at each other waiting for someone to make a move.

Was Sera actually that nice and unbothered? You don't know. But, her sidekick sure wasn't.

And exactly at that moment, Sera decided it was too difficult for her to deal coming face-to-face with her ex and his new flame and excuses herself, dramatically (intentionally or not, it was dramatic) turning away and storming off.

But the cherry on top was Yoongi's reaction.

Instead of calming you down, he went after Sera! And she didn't even look half as frazzled as you did!

Yoongi's legs automatically moved to chase after her.

And, you get it. Fair enough.

Because love doesn't just go poof and disappear. And with Yoongi and Sera--- whatever anyone thinks about them now--- had once been in love. For a long while at that.

It must've been insanely difficult and hellish for them to have to move on from something like this.

So, you really don't blame him for running after her.

Connections don't always break cleanly.

It's just... You wish you didn't feel like collateral damage here.

Like do you think you'd do the same if she was your ex? Yes, probably.

Was it embarrassing for you? Also, yes.

Still, you wished Yoongi had asked your permission or at least glanced at you, just once, to make sure YOU were okay.

But you were left alone with Sera's friend.

She shot you the nastiest stink-eye the entire time Yoongi and Sera chatted on the side.

It was nearly barbaric. It was as if she was trying to overpower you in some way.

Shivers.

That look made you want to hide behind your hands or something. It sucked.

Everyone gave you the look. The 'oh, she swooped in like a vulture' look, that 'there goes the homewrecker' look.

You awkward shifted your weight from one foot to another.

These heels were killing your soles. Yoongi told you to wear walking shoes but you were confident you wouldn't need them.

You looked everywhere but at her. And you still felt her eyes burning holes into your head. Like she was trying to decipher your thoughts.

When Yoongi and Sera rejoined you, they were closer in proximity.

You don't think too much of it. You're just glad your boyfriend's back.

Yoongi instantly wraps his large hand around yours, gently stroking it with his thumb. You look up at him with a small smile.

"Um... _____, I'll see you around more I hope?" Sera's voice broke your little moment.

What the hell had they talked about?

Pleasantly surprised, you just nod slightly. You'd like that actually.

"That would be... Good." You agree. A bit more genuinely this time.

Sera's friend also toned it down after getting a little elbow from Sera.

The two women then bid goodbye, leaving you and Yoongi alone again.

You look at Yoongi who's already gazing down at you, "Still wanna look through the Claire's catalogue?"

No, you think. You're actually done with Claire's now.

As if he read your mind, he pulled you in closer and you let him guide you whenever. Preferably to the nearest Swarovski.

Whatever the hell happened there with Sera, you're grateful for.

He took really good care of you later that evening.

But from that day onwards, you noticed he had pulled back from you significantly, all under the guise of being overworked.

You're a teacher. You get it. Overworking, that too without pay, is, like, part of your job description. Yet, you make time for Yoongi.

But all he ever wanted lately was to hang out at his place. He'd come over only when Jennie wasn't home.

He made you feel like you had to hide your relationship. As if you were doing something shameful.

Nini shifts next to you on the couch. She's still quiet, probably turning it all over in her head.

You pick at a loose thread on your sleeve.

"Do you still want to be with him?" She finally asks, soft but cautiously.

The question catches you off guard. It’s not an accusation. It’s not even advice. It’s just… a question.

Wasn't it already apparent that you did?

Of course, you want to be with Yoongi. It's all you've wanted for months. Nothing has changed about that.

With a voice barely above a whisper, you frown, "I really do."

Jennie doesn’t say anything at first. She just nods like she's trying to convince herself.

"You don’t have to figure it all out right now," she says, "But you shouldn’t have to shrink to be with someone."

You raise your chin a little. Hm. True.

Feeling satisfied by your reaction, Jennie grins and pats your head, "I'm gonna go now. Won't be back until tomorrow... After breakfast?" She looks to you for an answer.

"Um... No, yeah ok." You don't know if Yoongi would stay over after the conversation you were gonna have with him. "Actually, whenever is fine. I dunno."

Jennie raises an eyebrow at your waffling, but doesn’t press. She just stands, stretches, and gathers her things into her canvas tote. You hadn't even noticed her stuff around.

"Okay then. I’ll assume brunch. Or post-brunch," she says with a wink, already halfway to the door. "Text me if you need anything. Or if you want me to fake an emergency call and drag you out mid-convo."

You nod with a little smirk.

She lingers a second longer at the threshold, like she’s debating whether to say more.

"Just… don’t let him confuse you into thinking this is what love’s supposed to look like, okay?"

She looks at you pointedly, waiting for a response.

"I won’t."

She smiles. Then she’s gone.

You check your phone. Five unread messages from Yoongi, all within the last thirty minutes.

[5] unread messages.

yoonie bby: Thinking about you. Can't focus.

yoonie bby: Wanna be inside you already. Miss your mouth.

yoonie bby: Also your pretty laugh.

yoonie bby: Should I cook or bring food?

yoonie bby: Your favourite cheesecake secured BTW. Can't wait to hold my sweet girl tonight.

You stare at the screen for a moment. Your stomach flips, as always. He’s so filthy and considerate in the same breath. He's so Yoongi.

You lock your phone and let your head fall back against the couch cushion, reminding yourself that you were still upset at this situation.

note: okayyy sooo i decided to drop this as an apology for my lack of posting in the recent months soooo do tell me what you think of this :) thanks for reading!

[elixirfromthestars]

By The Warmth Of The Oven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff. tipsy bucky.

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> is it those cookies that smell delicious or is it you?

a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my dear Bella @nickfowlerrr ♡ In honor of Can You Feel It? being the first of many beautiful fics I read of yours 🥹🩷 Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

bucky masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

“Smells good…” Bucky’s voice comes out of nowhere from behind you as you grab another tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. You glance over your shoulder to find him sauntering into the kitchen, making his way over to you. 

“Freshly baked cookies always do,” you reply with a gratified grin, placing the tray on top of the stove so the cookies have some time to cool off before you plate them. Your friends had already gone through three batches of them and they practically begged you to make more. It was a nice feeling, almost rewarding in a way, knowing something you made was so loved by your friends. 

“‘m not talking about the cookies, doll,” there’s a bit of a slur in his cadence that catches your attention at the same time that your heart skips a beat at his words. You turn to him to see he’s staring at you with a dreamy smile and a twinkle in his eyes, propped up against the counter by his elbow. You frown at his unusual nonchalant demeanor. You’ve never seen him act this way before. 

Your head tilts slightly as you examine him a little closer. There’s a bit of a sway to his stance and his cheeks are tinted pink. “Bucky, are you drunk?” Almost immediately he shakes his head at your question, “No. I can't get drunk,” he replies with an obvious tone, and yet the pouty frown on his face tells a different story. 

“Right, you can’t…” you affirm, mulling it over for a moment,“Unless…did Thor give you some of his special Asgardian liquor?” You ask, stepping slightly closer to him, the apples of his cheeks getting rosier in response. 

“I took a shot. I started feeling funny and came here—felt safe,” he mutters that last part reluctantly, sharing something with you he wouldn’t if it weren’t for the alcohol in his system.

“In the kitchen?”

“With you.” 

Your amusement is replaced with a soft expression at his response. He most likely hasn’t felt the effects of alcohol in decades and a part of him doesn’t know how to cope with the resurfaced inhibitions. The fact that while feeling unwell his first instinct was to come looking for you—it made a warmth spread throughout you that could easily rival the heat of the oven.

You reach out to cup his cheek, soothing the flushed skin with your thumb. He instinctively leans into your touch, his eyes shining with a gentle vulnerability that causes your heart to squeeze in your chest. You and Bucky have always had a flirtatious friendship for as long as you can remember, but it's never gone past that. Seeing him so openly affectionate with you stirs emotions deep within you that you aren’t sure you’re ready to bring to the surface.

“I don’t think the alcohol is going to stay in your system for long, Buck. How about we do this…you wait for me here while I go out and serve the cookies I baked,” his eyes widen slightly and you can tell he wants to protest until you add, “I’ll bring back some hot chocolate for us to share and we can enjoy it along with some cookies while we wait for that liquor in your system to wear off. How does that sound?” You suggest softly and you can see the way he thinks it through before he agrees with a nod.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you plate a few dozen cookies on decorative plates, leaving a handful behind for you and Bucky to share. You make sure to quickly take them out to your friends and serve up two piping hot mugs of hot chocolate before making it back to the kitchen in no time. 

When you meet back with Bucky you find him sitting on the counter where he watches his legs as he swings them lazily to and fro. You observe him fondly for a moment longer than necessary. Trying to commit to memory how carefree and unguarded he is at this moment. When he notices you his face lights up in a way that makes you feel like the most precious person on earth. 

“Here, as promised,” you hand him a mug of hot chocolate which he takes eagerly—too eagerly—as he immediately goes for a sip of it. Before he can, however, you stop him, placing your hand as a barrier between his lips and the mug. His mouth ends up pressed into your palm, and you ignore the heat that finds its way to your face at the softness of his lips brushing against your skin.

“Bucky, it's scalding hot! You’ll burn yourself! Wait until it cools down a bit, please.”

“It’s not gonna burn me, doll. I’m a super soldier. Watch—”

“Bucky!” 

You use the cookies as leverage to coax Bucky into waiting for the hot chocolate to cool down before he drinks any of it. For the next hour or so, you enjoy each other's company. Between the sweet treats and the lighthearted conversations, time flies by in a heartbeat. 

Then, while in the middle of a discussion over your last mission, Bucky does something that completely takes you by surprise in the best way possible—he kisses you. It’s short, but profound in the way he pours everything into it. Every flirtation you ever questioned could mean something more was proven here with this kiss, that it had meant so much more for more than just you. 

You’re speechless when he pulls away beaming as if his heart might burst.

“Looks like I was right.” 

“Huh?”

“I asked myself what was sweeter. You or the cookies. I knew it'd be you,” he states as a matter of fact, drinking up the way his words affect you as much as the kiss had. There’s a part of you that doesn’t believe him, but it's not because of him, but more so because you think you must be dreaming. 

“That's the liquor talking.”

“I've sobered up a while ago, doll.”

You search his eyes for the truth of it all and you find it. This is real. This isn’t a dream. And the yearning that burns bright in his eyes is one you know all too well. It’s the same one reflecting in your eyes as your gazes lock on one another.

“I still think the cookies are sweeter,” you whisper, your eyes shining with a playful challenge despite the way your heart races in your chest with anticipation. He catches on, licking his lips as his flesh hand snakes its way to the back of your head to cradle it gently.

“‘m gonna prove you wrong, doll,” he declares in a huskier tone as he pulls you in for another kiss. And that night, by the warmth of the oven, Bucky continues to kiss you until he successfully proves you wrong. 

[youngheejay]

Stubbles and Kisses

A little drabble for my starving readers—It’s been a while since I posted because I’ve been focusing too much on writing long and detailed fics. Enjoy this little snack ❤️

Yes I’ve gone feral ever since I saw these pictures. Why is he so hot when he’s being a normal dude? Idk his manliness is driving me insane (I need him so bad pls)

Sunghoon x fem!reader [established relationship]

You were making yourself a snack when all of the sudden your boyfriend had caged you in a tight back hug.

“Where were you…” he mumbled sleepily into your skin as he had just woken up from a nap. He closed his tired eyes and buried his face into the depth of the crook of your neck.

“I’m just making some snack,” you quickly patted his head before focusing on your sandwich again, weighing between sweet-chilli sauce and teriyaki sauce.

“When did I allow you to leave the bed without my permission?” He slapped your butt, his face still buried in your neck. You yelped at the stinging feeling, “you were sleeping, what was I supposed to do?”

His arms tightened around your waist as he began to sway your bodies in a soft rhythm, “hmmm…” he began, thinking about a response.

“Hmmm…” you mimicked, cutting some pickles. You felt his smile form against your skin, “I don’t know… just don’t leave me again like this. Ever.” He threatened lightheartedly, but you knew deep down he was being serious.

“Ok, you big baby~” You replied as if you were talking to a child.

Contented, he rubbed his face against your skin, his chin now planted on your exposed shoulder as the stubbles on his neck began to scratch against your skin. “Gosh~ you’re so soft,” he sighed as rubbed himself against you like a cat.

You pushed your finger against his forehead, putting a distance between your skin and his stubbles, “and you’re scratching me with your unshaven beard stubbles.”

He gasped dramatically, “oh no! What are we going to do?” He attached his chin and neck on your skin again, scratching you now with determination.

“Hoonie~” you began to laugh, “what are you doing?” You tried to pull your head away but he followed you. “Punishing my girl for leaving me all cold and alone in the bed.”

Your laughter echoed through the kitchen, “you’re so annoying.”

He then began to rub the unshaven stubble of his chin against your cheek, you squeezed your eyes at the discomforting scratchy feeling. “I’m not annoying, I’m just a man who believes in a fair world where everyone is punished for their wrong doings,” his attacks didn’t seem to stop, he enjoyed the close proximity between you two. His arms never loosened around your waist, one hand firmly placed underneath your shirt right under your bellybutton.

“And what can I do for a reduced sentence? Because your girlfriend here wants to eat her sandwich,” you squealed as he now started to gently bite into your cheek, trailing down your neck with his love-bites, his stubbles continued to scratch along the way.

“A kiss will do it,” he now peppered your cheek with tiny pecks.

You turned around in his embrace. His eyes softened at the sight of your angelic face, “hi,” he whispered, love-dazed.

“Hi,” you chuckled, caging your arms around his neck to pull him down.

His soft lips met yours, putting all of his love and affection into the kiss. Just as he put his hand on your cheek to tilt your head towards him, you pulled away, “your hair is tickling me…” you giggled as you pulled at the beard hair on his chin. He groaned dramatically, “yeah right. I’m a man. Of course I have hair there.”

“But you usually shave and now it feels rough and weird,” your eyes glistened with childish-like enthusiasm as your fingers now pulled at the hair on his adam apple.

After a couple moments of comforting silence, you made an announcement: “Okey, payment’s done. I wanna eat my sandwich now.” You turned around quickly before he could react.

“Nooo~!” He whined in protest. His cheek rested on your head, pouting, when he suddenly had an idea. He swiftly grasped your face in his hand to turn it to him and rubbed his rough, scratchy jaw and chin all over it.

“Babe!” You gasped at his attack, “what are you doingggg~” you complaint as you tried to pull away, “I already completed my sentence.”

“No, you didn’t kiss me properly.” He continued to scratch his stubble on your face.

You giggled, “Sunghoon, stop…”

“What did you just call me?” He asked, scandalised, and carried on with his assault.

“I- I meant babe,” you bursted out in laughter.

Suddenly, he pulled away and pouted his lips, indicating his need for a proper kiss. You closed your eyes with a dumb smile as you turned to him completely again, hand on his rough cheek, to pull him in for a kiss. He sighed softly into the kiss, eyes fluttering at the butterflies in his stomach. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, almost forgetting his initial plan.

When you finally pulled away, you pecked his lips to satisfy his needs, “good?”

He smiled at you dumbly, eyes twinkling, “yes.”

“Can I eat my sandwich now, you needy baby?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, his smile never faltering. You pecked his lips once again cutely—he almost felt bad at what he was going to do.

Almost.

And when you turned around to finally devour the sandwich which you had perfected to your liking, you quickly realised that it was gone.

Eyes widened, you whipped your head back to your boyfriend, only to see him standing a few steps away—distancing himself from you. One hand holding half of your sandwich as he had already shoved the other half into his mouth.

“Sunghoon!” You screeched.

He laughed loudly, though the food in his mouth muffled the sound, as he stuffed the rest of the sandwich in one go. Chewing and swallowing everything in a matter of seconds.

You sprinted towards him. His eyebrows shot up in panic, he quickly began to flee.

“YOU LITTLE SHIT I SWEAR TO GOD-“

Did you land on his back and clung onto him like a monkey while you hit him repeatedly?

Yes.

Did he take you to your favourite burger place to make it up to you?

Yes.

Did he steal most of your fries there?

Also yes.

Did he shave off his stubble?

Well, you kind of liked it so you didn’t let him until he had to shave it off for some shooting again.

Did you develop a habit of burying your face into his unshaven face and neck and scratching yourself like cat whenever you two cuddled?

Yeah.

And he loved every second of it.

—————————————————————————

Wanna read more? Check my masterlist!

Comment, like, reblog, feedback, requests always appreciated very much!

All works are copyrighted ©youngheejay 2025 . Do not repost or re-write without the permission of author.

[kiwiatoll]

loser! jake BUT readers all of a sudden nice to him and jake is confused (and turned on ofc) maybe special occasion or smthn.surprise ne queen !!

⁺𝅄 𓊆 ❀ 𓊇 just so u guys know.. this will be my last jake fic/drabble before I retire him :(( i write for all of the members and I didn’t think people would request or even like my loser!jake stuff this much, so he WILL make a retrurn on my blog, I just want to share my work for other enha members as well <33 pls understand

pair loser!jake x hot!reader ͡ ͘◡ ꫶᳝᳜᳝᳜᳝᳜৯ tags reverse cowgirl, cockwarming ✿ scene jake forgot their third anniversary, again. He’s bracing for punishment, but instead, you’re suddenly super nice to him. Like, really nice. Confused, flustered, and lowkey turned on, Jake starts to wonder: is this mercy… or a horrible horrible setup? ────── library ⊹ ࣪ click to join taglist

like + reblog appreciated <3

Jake wakes up to the smell of bacon.

Which is weird, because he’s the one who usually forgets the pan and sets off the smoke alarm, and you usually sleep in on Sundays like it’s a constitutional right.

He blinks, dazed and warm and puffy-eyed, as your voice floats into the bedroom.

“Jakey,” you call softly. “Wake up baby. I made you breakfast.”

Jake sits up slowly. His hair’s a mess. His eyes are crusty. He’s half-hard under the blanket because of a dream he already forgot, and his first thought is:

Are you possessed?

“Baby?” you peek your head in, grinning.

Jake squints. “Wait. Did I die?”

You giggle. “No, dummy.”

“Did you die?”

“No.”

“Then why are you—” he looks down at the tray you’re carrying, eyes wide, “—bringing me pancakes?”

You sit beside him on the bed and brush a kiss to his cheek. “Because I love you.”

Jake flinches like you slapped him.

“You do?” he says, eyes watery.

You roll your eyes fondly. “Obviously.”

He leans against you, still confused but clinging like a koala.

Jake is an affectionate idiot, he clings without realizing, kisses without thinking, forgets his keys in your purse because “you’re the safe place.” But today, something about you is different.

You’re not just being kind, you’re being intentional.

You kiss him before he leaves the house.

You help him find his shoes even though they’re right where he always leaves them.

You pack his lunch. Write a little note.

And when he comes home after hanging with Sunghoon, there’s candles on the table.

Candles.

Jake stops in the doorway, staring.

“…Are we summoning something?”

You turn, wearing that adorable outfit, the one he kept staring at the day you tried it on in the store, too stunned to speak, until you went “should I not get it?” and he panic-yelled “NO GET IT GET IT.”

You wore it.

For him.

Jake gulps.

“Did I do something right?” he asks. “Or did I do something wrong and this is the part before you kill me?”

You walk over and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your cheek against his chest. “You did everything right.”

Jake stands frozen. His whole body is stiff, except for one very obvious part.

You notice.

Of course you do.

You giggle. “You’re so easy.”

Jake whines. “You’re being so nice to me. It’s turning me on. That feels unethical.”

Dinner is perfect.

You give him his favorite part of the steak.

You laugh at every one of his terrible jokes.

You even rub his knee under the table like you want him.

Jake’s not used to being the pretty one in the relationship. You’re hot. So hot. It makes no sense to anyone that you date a guy who once cried during an animal shelter ad and accidentally set his microwave on fire trying to make instant ramen.

And yet.

You treat him like he’s the prize.

Jake wants to cry.

And then…

You give him a gift.

Wrapped. Bow and all.

Jake tears it open, confused, and finds:

A framed photo of you two, from your beach trip where Jake got sunburned and you made fun of his farmer’s tan.

A pressed flower from the first bouquet he gave you. He thought you threw it out.

A tiny hand-written book titled: “101 Reasons Why I’m Glad You’re Mine”

Jake blinks down at the cover.

“I—I don’t—” he stammers.

And then, finally, his eyes flick to the calendar on the wall.

The date glows like a punch to the gut.

Anniversary. Three years.

Jake forgot.

You didn’t.

“Jake,” you say softly, sitting beside him on the bed. “You okay?”

He looks like you kicked his puppy.

“I’m the worst boyfriend ever.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am. You did all this. And I didn’t even get you, like— like a card. Or a rock I found outside. Or a dumb doodle or a weird TikTok link or, anything.”

You rest your hand on his.

Jake’s bottom lip wobbles. He sniffles.

“It’s okay,” you say gently. “You always forget dates. I kind of expected it.”

That only makes it worse.

“You knew I’d forget?” he says, heartbroken.

You give a small, sad smile. “It’s not about remembering. It’s about trying.”

Jake stares at you.

And then, without a word, he kneels.

He presses kisses to your thigh. Your knee. Your hip.

Your stomach.

“Let me make it up to you,” he murmurs. “Please.”

He worships you.

That’s the only word for it.

Jake moves with reverence. He kisses you like he’s trying to apologize with his mouth, long, wet kisses that leave you gasping.

When you slide his shirt off, he fumbles a little with yours.

“Can I see you?” he whispers. “Please?”

You nod.

Jake groans the second your top’s off. His hands are greedy, trembling, desperate. But still gentle.

He takes his time.

So much time.

“Turn around?” you ask softly, cheeks warm. “I wanna ride you. That way.”

Jake’s brain short-circuits.

“Reverse— um what is it— um?”

“Reverse cowgirl?.”

Jake whines, already tugging his pants off. “I don’t even know if my heart can take that.”

You straddle him, slow and teasing.

And when you sink down, his hands fly to your hips.

Then hesitate.

Then slowly, tentatively, cup your ass.

“Can I?” he whispers, voice wrecked.

You nod.

Jake lets out the dirtiest moan you’ve ever heard.

“Your ass is insane,” he babbles. “I’m��fuck—I’m gonna die. This is my punishment. You’re punishing me.”

He doesn’t even thrust.

He just holds you there, buried inside, cock so deep and warm that it feels like you’re melting together.

“P—please,” he breathes. “You’re so warm— n’so pretty. Like a goddess. Like an avenging angel with the softest—oh my god—you clenched.”

You giggle.

“I’m sorry,” he moans. “I know I forgot. I know I don’t deserve this. But I love you. I love you so much I feel it in my spine.”

You lean back slightly, rocking your hips once.

Jake chokes.

“I’ll never forget again,” he gasps. “Swear to god. I’ll tattoo it. I’ll set calendar alerts. I’ll carve it into my desk.”

You bounce once.

Jake screams.

You’re both laughing by the time he flips you over and kisses you breathless, trying to say everything with his hands and his mouth and his body that he forgot to say with words.

And after, when he’s soft inside you, buried to the hilt, and you’re both tangled and warm and sticky, Jake whispers:

“Next year I’m doing the most. Be ready.”

You hum, nuzzling into his chest. “Can’t wait.”

🪷 ─── @gxwesn @gyarumindd @somuchdard @ssanhwatto (join the taglist guys..)

[fushitoru]

tw periods, slight angst surrounding periods and period typical misogyny, misunderstanding, fluff at the end, a lot of suggestiveness LOL. this is post-canon, after bridgerton!gojo and miss itadori get married

a/n you are warned this is not a drabble this is almost a fic (still a bit short tho) but i was too lazy to make a layout for it

you woke beside your husband, bridgerton!gojo, with a peculiar slickness between your thighs and a slight ache in your joints, particularly that of your lower back.

at once, you knew what it was---your courses. you couldn't help but feel a little disappointment; while you and satoru had only wed recently, your...child bearing efforts had been rigorous. however, it had only been about a fortnight since you had become missus gojo, so it would be reasonable to assume a child was to come in due time.

that is to say, becoming with child was not what was troubling you at all---it was the tangent, irony smell of blood between your thighs, and, if you did not take quick action, it would soon stain your marital bed.

but the biggest worry of all: your husband.

unfortunately, you did not know his...stance about the monthly affliction women face. it was true you felt you could discuss anything with him---after a whole season of fighting like fools, you both had shown each other your most vulnerable parts. however, you were not sure how he would react to the blood that was slowly trickling out of you. would he be disgusted? would he want you to sleep on a seperate bed? the both of you shared your marital bed every night, despite the fact that the gojo manor had many other rooms and one that was formally yours, too.

yet it was not his disgust that you feared most. it was his silence---that he would silently hold back his true feelings of disgust to care for you.

you shook your head. you definitely could not stomach making him bear such responsibility. to be safe, you would distance yourself from him for a couple of days.

looking once more at him, you were relieved to see him sleeping peacefully like a babe next to you. in his slumber, he had wrapped his arms across your waist and buried his head in your chest. as carefully as you could, you unwrapped yourself from his arms and waddled miserably towards the door, and outside, until you found nobara.

after you had debriefed her in your formal room (the one where you were supposed to sleep in, but it had gathered dust nonetheless because satoru would not tolerate distance between you two), she sent a pointed look at you. "you are being ridiculous. that man is a lovesick fool when it comes to you."

"i know he adores me, which is precisely why i do not wish to be close to him during my courses," you mutter back, clutching your stomach and sitting uncomfortably on the bed. "what if he stayed silent about his true sentiments---"

before you could finish, a hesitant knock came on the door and came the voice of your husband. "my love, are you inside?" he sounded concerned, and your heart broke; he must have been confused why you were not by his side when he woke.

then, panic welled inside of you, and you quickly stood up, then immediately shrinked in pain. in a shrill voice came your response: "give me some time, dear, to get dressed!"

then came a confused but brief, "all right," and he obediently stayed outside the door, waiting for you. you hurriedly put on proper attire---not before putting a linen cloth over your crotch to temper the bleeding---and opened the door.

there he was: dressed in a white shirt that was clearly shrugged on in a daze, and pants. it was truly a shame you were resolved to avoid him and any intimate engagement; if it weren't so, you would have dragged him back to your bed for a reenactment of last night.

it seemed that this time of the month had amplified your lust; you were gazing intently at his bare chest and stomach and didn't notice how he had been trying to say something. it was only until he grabbed your hand and started walking that you got out of your reverie. "where are we going?"

"to break our fast," he sighed, looking at you with trace of amusement in his eyes. "it seems that you cannot seem to concieve any words of mine without food in your stomach."

heat creeps up your neck, but you stay silent as he leads you into the drawing room. he sits you down next to him on the couch, and you're so overwhelmed with the heat of his presence that you dizzily sit next to him, while he murmurs things to the maid. it's only until you are alone with him that he pulls you close, onto his lap---you panic once more.

you both have been spending your time as newlyweds at each other's sides; in the morning, he ushers everyone else out of the drawing room and pulls you onto his lap to feed you pastries by hand; during the day, the both of you find some way of keeping each other company, whether it be you reading in the library while he conducts his work or him lazing by your side as you play the pianoforte; at night....every unfortunate being in the manor knows what the both of you do at night.

however, if you were to bleed onto him, forget his reaction; you'd probably offer yourself up to the chef to be cooked for dinner.

your hands remain stiff where they hover in the air, unsure whether to wrap around his shoulders or press against his chest and shove him away. but your legs are already tucked awkwardly to one side, your skirts pooling in your lap and the linen cloth beneath them barely hanging on to dignity.

"now, then," he murmurs, voice low and drowsy, still husky with the vestiges of sleep, "would you care to explain why you vanished on me this morning?"

you stiffen slightly, gaze refusing to meet his. his thumb strokes your back through the fabric of your robe.

“i woke early,” you reply, feebly. “i did not wish to disturb your sleep.”

satoru hums, unconvinced yet concerned. “you were limping.”

your breath hitches.

he lifts his head, ocean eyes narrowing with concern as they search yours. “did I hurt you?” he asks, tone suddenly urgent. “was it last night? I—darling, I swear I never intended—”

“no! no, heavens, no,” you interrupt, pressing your hand over his mouth before he can spiral further. “it's not that. I just—” you trail off, heart pounding.

you feel a trickle escape you and remember that you are still situated on his lap. you jump up, to satoru's dismay, and pat down your skirts in a show of fluster. while you do so, you make sure to peek a glance at satoru's---mind you, very expensive---pants, and let out a sigh in relief when you find they are unmarred with any shade of red.

satoru blinks up at you, visibly startled at your sudden escape from his lap. he sits upright, arms slack at his sides, disheveled and blinking like a dog who had just been denied a treat. “darling?” he calls, voice still rough from sleep. “why did you—?”

“i just remembered—i'm meant to be with nobara,” you blurt hastily, smoothing your skirts once more. “she needed… guidance. On a matter of embroidery.”

he tilts his head, clearly skeptical. “embroidery.”

“yes,” you say, far too quickly. “she's quite hopeless with her stitches, you know.”

satoru gives a soft hum. “i see.” he looks at you pointedly, but says no more.

you nod, all nerves, and inch toward the door with forced casualness. “i'll be back before supper,” you promise, though you plan nothing of the sort. “rest, please. you looked dreadfully tired.”

and with that, you flee.

...

the day drags.

you spend an hour in nobara's company, pacing and muttering until she throws a cushion at your head and tells you, in no uncertain terms, that you’re being idiotic. you ignore her.

you then wander the halls of the gojo manor like a ghost, ducking behind tapestries and pillars the moment you hear your husband’s voice approaching.

at one point, you’re certain he sees the edge of your skirts disappearing up the staircase, because you hear a faint, amused, “hm,” followed by very deliberate footsteps that turn away.

it doesn’t help. the ache in your belly has dulled to a throb, your joints heavy and mood sullen. you've gone through more linen cloths than you care to count, and your back feels like it’s being punished by God himself.

but worse still is the shame coiled in your chest.

you miss him. you miss the warmth of his lap, the rasp of his voice when it’s still tinged with sleep. you miss the way he’d drawn heated circles into your back without even realizing it. and you hate—truly, hate—that you’re keeping something from him.

...

by the time night falls and the clock strikes ten, you’re already curled up in your formal room, not even pretending to be useful. you know, instinctively, that he’ll come.

and he does.

the door creaks open gently, as though he’s trying not to startle you. “are you hiding from me again?” satoru asks softly.

you sit up from your curled position on the chaise, wrapped in a thick shawl. you've no more excuses left in you.

he's dressed in his day's clothes, but his shirt is rumpled and a bit unbuttoned. you wish he'd cover up more, for your unscrupulous eyes were devouring the sigh. he looks tired---but not angry. never angry.

still, you look away. “i didn’t mean to avoid you,” you say, voice faint. “truly, i was a bit occupied today.”

"no, you were avoiding me," he says, without heat. "you are hiding something from me."

you nod, the confession a lump in your throat. “i was.”

satoru sighs and crosses the room, kneeling in front of you. “tell me, darling. please.”

you hesitate, and then meet his eyes. "it's my courses."

he blinks. “Your—oh.” realization dawns in an instant. his brows lift. “that's all?”

you flush. "'that's all'? satoru, i bled onto the sheets today. while you were in it---the smell was pungent! then, at breakfast, i thought i would bleed on your trousers, and i've been waddling all day!"

he makes a move to interrupt, but your shrill voice continues, giving him no opening. "and i've heard how it goes!" you cry, but then your voice quiets, now low in mood. "i just did not you know your feelings on the matter. some husbands don't say anything about it but internally do not take kindly to the display. i thought it perhaps to spare you the discomfort. if you wish, you may sleep alone in the marital bed tonight." you laugh but your hands are quivering, your voice equally shaky. "it is due time that i start sleeping in my designated room, regardless."

there's silence, and you refuse to look at him.

you nod to yourself, eyes burning. "so, please do what you are comfortable with, my dear. i will wholly understand and will draw no resentment from your choice, for it is what you wish."

and still, he says nothing.

you do not look up—not when he pushes off the door, not when you hear his footsteps retreating down the hall. the sound of the door clicking shut behind him cleaves clean through you.

you sit for a moment, frozen.

so that was it, then. he had chosen comfort and distance from you.

and that was fine. that was what you had offered him—wasn’t it?

that was what you wanted, you tell yourself. for him to be comfortable. for him to have the space to choose without pressure or obligation. you didn’t want to burden him with your body’s inconvenient truths, didn’t want to tether him to your pain out of guilt or duty.

you had meant it. you had.

still, like a traitor, your throat tightens. you press a palm against your sternum, as if you could quiet the ache blooming there, deep and hollow and foolish.

you should get ready for bed. blow out the candle. crawl beneath the covers and sleep it off—

the door bursts open.

you startle, eyes flying up—and there he is again, storming in not with coldness or distance, but with purpose.

you blink as he steps towards you—not empty-handed, but with a bundle of linens, something wrapped in muslin, and a small ceramic jar tucked beneath one arm. his expression is unreadable as he walks to your chaise.

he crouches before you, silent.

then: he unravels the cloth and reveals a warmed compress, gently pressing it to your lower abdomen with a care that nearly undoes you. his hands are sure, practiced. the pressure soothes more than you can say.

next comes the jar—some ancient concoction for cramping and pain, herbal and bittersweet in scent. he rubs a dab into your wrists, then into your temples, then—when you remain frozen in stunned silence—cups your jaw, brushing a knuckle along your cheek.

“is this allowed?” he murmurs.

you nod, too stunned to speak.

he lets out a slow breath and says, “you absolute goose.”

your lips tremble. “I thought—when you left—”

“i went to the warming stone cupboard, you little fool.” his tone is fond now, teasing, like he can’t bear to let you spiral any further. “you think I’d leave you bleeding and aching and miserable just to have a soft bed to myself?”

you shake your head, and he leans in to press a kiss to your brow.

"i married you, mrs. gojo," he teases, the same way he used to say miss itadori when the both of you were at odds. "do you think i could bear to know nothing about your body with you as my wife? or, heavens forbid, sleep alone in our bed? i knew eventually you would be curled up in my bed, looking cross and adorable while i play nursemaid." he

your eyes brim. "i'm sorry."

“you're forgiven, my love,” he says easily. “on one condition.”

you blink. “What?”

“that you stop hiding from me. i'm your husband. i'd much rather hold you while you’re bleeding than miss you while you’re gone.”

you give a watery laugh. “You make it sound so poetic.”

“i am a romantic at heart.” he stands, then scoops you effortlessly into his arms. “now come. we are going to our bed. i've fluffed the pillows, and you’re going to let me dote on you until you beg me to stop.”

you cling to him, heart light for the first time all day.

[societyfolklore]

 Thick Arms, Slow Grind

Title: Thick Arms, Slow Grind Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count:  513 words (drabble)

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, missionary sex, penetrative sex, overstimulation, sweaty/grimy intensity, filthy dirty talk, size kink, Bucky’s arms/biceps obsession, praise kink, soft possessive dominance, prolonged grinding… Wrote at work today after the group chat talk while I was on the train… A/N: For my Beefy!Bucky hoes

You were already trembling.

Legs bent high and braced against his thick waist, your calves pressed to his ribs as he loomed over you. His forearms planted beside your head, massive and flexing with every shift, caging you in, framing your face like a promise. The mattress barely registered beneath you. All you could feel was him: the salt of sweat, the leather of his scent and sin pressed into every inch of your skin.

Bucky didn’t stop. Didn’t ease up. Didn’t even slow down.

He fucked you like he meant it, chest pressed to yours, grunting low as he rolled his hips, grinding in deep. Long, dragging thrusts that pulled moans straight out of your throat. He rocked into you like his life depended on it- elbows tucked beside your head, the weight of him smothering, suffocating, perfect.

And those arms. God.

Biceps thick and hard as carved stone, flexing with every slow, devastating push. You could barely wrap both hands around one, fingers slipping on sweat-slicked skin as you gasped his name, barely holding on. Every inch of him was over you, under you, around you, inside you. Each stroke a full-body drag, the head of his cock hitting so deep it nearly hurt before pulling back with maddening control.

You’d already lost count of how many times you’d come.

Didn’t matter. He hadn’t.

“Oh, just like that, doll,” Bucky groaned, lips dragging over your jaw, forehead pressed to yours. “Fuck- yeah, squeeze me, pretty girl, that’s it- c’mon, again for me.”

You shook your head weakly, hips twitching as he ground up, buried to the hilt. “Bucky- I can’t-”

“You will,” he growled, a grin slicing through his stubble as he shifted his weight, pinning your hips with his. “You got more in ya Doll, I know you do. Look at me.”

You blinked up at him, dazed and wrecked, lashes damp with tears. His blue eyes blazed back, so close they blurred, lips swollen, teeth flashing when he kissed you again, messy, biting.

“That’s it. Fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered between kisses, lips brushing yours when he talked. “Takin’ me s'good. You feel that? How deep I am, huh? Ain’t nobody ever gonna get in this deep but me.”

You whined helpless, overwhelmed, the thick, brutal grind of him nudging something that sent heat ripping through your belly.

“God, you make such pretty sounds when I break you open like this,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “Love watchin’ your face while I fuck the fight right outta you.”

Your fingers clawed at his shoulders, nails biting into muscle as the burn built again- sharp, white, rising fast.

“There she is,” he groaned, hips stuttering as he felt it- your body fluttering around him, so wet, so fucked-out you could hardly breathe. “Yeah, baby. Gimme another. Be my good girl, come on, come again.”

You shattered with a sob, buried beneath him.

And Bucky all sweaty, smirking, still so hard, just kissed your temple and slowly pulled back, only to push himself back in.

“Not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

[intromortal]

⟢ like it when i call you daddy? ⸝⸝⸝ yang jungwon

oops! your boyfriend finds out you have a raging daddy kink. but he's more than happy to indulge you

this work contains ⋆ smut ⋆ minors do not interact ⋆ daddy kink duh ⋆ shy reader ⋆ menace jungwon ⋆ fingering ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ slight edging ⋆ praise ⋆ brief cockwarming

length ⋆ drabble ⸻ 3.5k words

✷ NIA — barely proofread pls it's 2 am bear with me. i was supposed to finish this yesterday but then someone tried to break into my apartment. hope your weekend was better than mine!

Uh oh. You know that look.

The look Jungwon gives you only when you're in real deep shit, the one that tells you he's not letting you off the hook or negotiating with you no matter what.

It's almost mean in the way only bright and soft eyes can be, like they're not meant to shape into anything that isn't cutesy. It's like he's scrutinizing your eyes as if they were little windows to your soul, no curtains blocking the light shining in. It's a look you've come to assume means 'danger ahead! Tread carefully.'

Mostly because if there's anything Jungwon hates, it has to be you hiding stuff from him. Whether it's silly things like the paper cut you got at work the day before, or how your tires need to be changed—you can handle that yourself just alright, but Jungwon wants to do it all for you—or the bigger, scarier stuff like doubt poking your chest when you spiral thinking about your future, unsure of what your place in the world is supposed to be, or if you have one at all. He hates it all. He wants you to rely on him, open up both your mind and heart to let him in. It's not a matter of needing him, Jungwon knows you're more than capable of doing it all yourself, you've done just that your entire life.

But that's all the more reason to rely on him if you ask him.

He wants to be your rock, your superhero in spandex like the ones you always make fun of when it's a Friday night and older Marvel movies are all that's playing on TV—he thinks being made fun of is okay as long as you're the one laughing. He wants to be your safe haven. A place where you walk in and feel the heaviness dissolve off your shoulders. He wants to be your home.

You shouldn't have to worry about anything because you've worried yourself sick over other people all your life, he needs to be your break.

Jungwon is your judgment free zone, he knows all your deepest secrets, no matter how embarrassing. He checks for spots you can't quite reach when you think something is off with your body—and he tells you that no, it's not a terminal illness, you'll be fine—no matter how disgusting. He has seen you dazed, hair messy and eyeliner somehow down to your cheeks after a night out. Even washed your face for you when you couldn't and patiently did your skincare because he knew you would complain about your skin feeling dry in the morning otherwise. He has made love to you in every way, in every position, no matter how unflattering. And he still loves you, still thinks you're the most gorgeous being walking on the sun dried tufts of grass that make up Earth. Though if you ask him, the sun is all the way down here and not up in the sky anymore, the one there is just a less impressive copy.

So when you keep things from him, it stings extra.

You lay underneath him, eyes as big as a fawn, staring right up into his scrutinizing gaze. And he's giving you that look, so you might as well start praying up to anyone who will listen.

"Oh? You like that?" Jungwon's hand slides under your shirt, slowly caressing the skin it was just tickling mercilessly moments ago. "Now, that's new. How come you didn't let me in your little secret until now, mhh?"

You don't really have a top 5 worst ways in which your boyfriend could find out you have an embarrassing, raging daddy kink, but if you had one, you imagine 'whimpering after he jokingly says 'be still and good for daddy' while play fighting' would be up there at the top.

"I… uhm. I don't….?" It sounds more like a question than anything else, and the wicked grin overtaking Jungwon's face only makes you want to shrink back into the mattress further.

He looks to the side, shaking his head slightly as his tongue pokes out between his teeth. The corners of his mouth are upturned, but it's not warm or playful like his smile usually is—it doesn't make the sides of his eyes crinkle like you love.

If keeping things from him is a no-go, outright lying might be ten times worse.

So, you bargain. "It's just… you know. Took me by surprise. You don't seem the type of—"

Your sentence is interrupted by a squeal of surprise as he grabs your thigh and drags you down the bed, crawling over you possessively. He reaches for your arm, bringing it to his lips so he can trail his way down with soft kisses, so unlike the energy emanating from him. He kisses your palm sweetly, it makes your head spin like you've been thrown off your balance. "I'm not the type to?"

He's encouraging you to finish your thought, but you have half the idea that by doing that, you'll only dig your grave further, so you choose silence.

"That's what I thought." Jungwon bends down, gaze still boring into your eyes and mouth hovering so close to yours you can feel the words before you can hear them. "I'm the type to do everything for you. I thought you knew by now."

Of course, you do. He makes it pretty clear every waking hour of the day. But the little title that has heat rushing right to your cheeks just thinking about it, is something you never found the courage to be open about, even to Jungwon. As silly as it sounds, the thought of giving someone else so much power, complete control over you feels impossible, even when it's what your deepest and most hidden self craves most.

"I know. It just felt silly and—oh."

"Keep talking. Don't let me stop you." Jungwon noses the skin of your neck, taking in your scent like he might forget it if he doesn't, like it's the last chance he has to do so. Jungwon's love is often like this, given to you in subtle but passionate gestures, ones he bestows onto you as if he might bleed out if he doesn't.

Your insides stir, heavy and hot in your lower stomach and the air almost feels too thick to breathe in, but you push through. Even when Jungwon's hand slides lower and lower until it reaches your shorts—if you can even call them that. "I thought, what if you don't like it. What if it makes me seem weird."

"I like what you like." You visibly shiver when he speaks into your ear, the warmth of his breath ticklish. He gently nibs the shell of your ear.

"But what if—"

"No what ifs, pretty girl. What you want, I give you. What you dream of, I give you." He looks down at you, his elbow bent to support his head. "Your deepest fantasies, I fulfill. Is that clear?"

You nod, looking at him with such sincerity and vulnerability in your eyes he almost coos at the sight.

"Good girl." Jungwon kisses your temple, and you don't know if it's the action itself or the praise, or maybe a little bit of both, but your muscles are more relaxed and your chest feels all fuzzy. The hand playing with the waistband of your shorts finally slides to cup your heat through your panties, his dainty but long fingers molding perfectly to your mound. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, gently smiling into the little nibbles he teases your skin with. They're hardly painful, his teeth not leaving marks behind. Not that they need to, your form quivering underneath his body is already enough. "Let daddy take care of his baby, yeah?"

You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed by the effects his words have on you. It only spurs Jungwon further though, because soon his hand is pulling your completely soaked panties to the side, slowly teasing your folds with his digits. "You're all shy, but she's so happy to see me." He smiles against your cheek, then dips down to litter your neck in open mouthed kisses, happily sighing when you adjust yourself to give him easier access.

"You're so lame," you say from behind your hand still covering your face.

"Oh baby, don't be jealous. You're both my princesses." Jungwon finally dips his fingers lower, teasing your dripping hole slowly with just the tips. He collects the wetness seeping out of you and spreads it all over your pussy, not even trying to dull the obscene sounds his action make. "You're so fucking wet, it's like she's talking back to me," he slurs his words, quiet as to not interrupt the ones coming from below. "And you wanted to deprive me of this?"

He keeps playing with you, relishing in the little sounds both you and your pussy make. His fingers move slowly, deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Jungwon, please," you whine, but the way his lips shape into a grin you can quite literally feel against your neck tells you he wants something from you first. And you have an idea of what it is.

"Wrong name, try again."

Of course.

You're not ready to give in yet though, so you decide to push his buttons for a little longer. "Please?"

The last thing you hear before Jungwon yanks his hand out of your shorts, much to your despair, is a venomous tch that has you seriously reconsider your previous actions. You know him well, so you know if you want to come you're gonna have to abide by his rules. Still, that doesn't stop embarrassment from growing in your stomach more, and more.

His movements are a lot less careful, making quick work of his fitted shirt and sweats, his boxers coming right off with them. Maybe it's the sight of his leaking cock, standing tall and angry against his lower abdomen, or maybe it's just wishful thinking, but despite your mind knowing better, your heart hopes for a few seconds that maybe, just maybe, you have irritated him past the point of punishment.

Jungwon grabs your shorts and panties, sliding them off your legs with a single movement and discards them somewhere on the hardwood floor of your room. It's fast and unceremonious, but the second his warm hand touches your thigh again you understand you got it all wrong. "That's okay. If you're too shy to call me daddy, I'll just have to fuck the shyness out of you."

You mewl when his hands slide up to the back of your knees, pushing them against your chest. The position is a little awkward, but you believe that's exactly what Jungwon is going for. "Here, hold your own legs up like this. Yeah, exactly like that. See? You can be good when you wanna be."

The stretch in your thighs burns, but it's close to nothing when the realization that Jungwon is making you hold onto your legs so you can't hide your face anymore sets in. Sneaky.

Jungwon, on the other hand, admires you with no reservation. Your cunt is completely exposed, like you've handed it to him on a silver platter, and now you have nowhere to hide. He has half a mind to sink down on his knees in front of the bed and eat you out until you're raw and cannot physically come anymore, but he said he would fuck you and he keeps his promises. Besides, he wants to see your face when you finally give in and call him daddy for the first time.

His knees dip into the mattress, the bed creaking with the weight put on it, but your own heartbeat thumps so loud in your ears you miss it. Jungwon takes his sweet time in reaching you, nothing like the urgency in his movements when he undressed you both. He knows you're waiting with bated breath for his next step, it's just another way to punish you for your disobedience. His hands roam your naked body, and he pushes your legs into your chest further, displeased with your loosening grip on them. He gives you a wordless, pointed look, and your hands immediately hold onto the back of your thighs harder.

"Pretty," Jungwon compliments your cunt, glistening and dripping right onto the bed sheets. His gaze is carefully scrutinizing every single part of you, but you know better than to try to shy away. "So, so beautiful. I don't know why you wanna hide from daddy."

"I'm not hiding," you whine in protest. Because, really, you're trying your best not to.

He grabs his length, leaking precum at the thick tip. You want to get a better look at it, so you try to take a peek, your back falling on the mattress again after a mere moment of struggle. That earns an airy, honest giggle from Jungwon, and it has your insides fluttering. It's so easy for him to get a reaction out of you, whatever he does makes you all tingly, whether it's because of fondness or lust. And by the quick look you got at his cock he's not much better off, you can't recall a time you have seen him this red and wet, ready to be inside you from just a little kissing and touching. Which is saying a lot, because Jungwon gets flushed quite easily.

The thought makes you feel a little less embarrassed.

Jungwon taps his cock on your clit a few times, each one sending a jolt of pleasure right through your spine. That tiny amount of stimulation is all he gives to your poor neglected bundle of nerves, and he moves his thick tip downwards, rubbing it repeatedly between your folds. All you can do is throw your head back, teeth poking your bottom lip in an attempt to silence the sounds threatening to spill out of your mouth.

He sighs in delight as your juices coat him, mixing with his precum. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his mouth twisted in a way that makes a dimple pop up on his cheek as he keeps rubbing his cock on your cunt, loving the sight of your nails digging into your thighs to leave tiny half moon indentations. Look at you doing the marking yourself.

"I already take care of you, make sure you're well rested, handle whatever I can to take the load off your shoulders," Jungwon says, never stopping his movements against your heat. "I fuck you so good all the time, take my time with your pretty pussy when I have the chance. Take such good care of you both." He falters for one second, when he accidentally lowers his tip just a smidge too much and ends up rubbing it over your clenching hole. He keeps his cock there, pushing in so slightly you almost miss it, just to take it out and repeat the motions. "I wanna be a part of all your fantasies, would do anything to make you come as hard as I can." He sinks into your heat more this time, just enough to let the stretch of his tip pushing in register for you. "So why won't you be a good girl for daddy and address me by my title? I know you want to."

Jungwon's hips slowly push his cock into you, his mouth open in a silent moan as inch by inch you welcome him into your snug cunt. He's been obsessed with the feeling of that first thrust inside you ever since the first time he slid into you, it's the one thing he always takes his time with, even when he's mad or frustrated and ready to pound into you until you can barely feel your legs anymore.

That's usually what the dangerous look he gave you earlier entails, but this time it's different. His pace doesn't suddenly increase once he fills you to the hilt, reaching so deep inside you, any more would feel like too much. He keeps it slow, but steady, enjoying the way you clench against him, enjoying the view you're giving him with your body bent to accommodate him. He fucks you deep, the position you're in allowing him to reach so deep inside you stars dance across your vision. His pelvis rubs against your clit so deliciously a tiny bit of spit dribbles down your chin from the corner of your mouth. You can feel every inch, every vein, every ridge, and it's mouthwatering.

It's so good, you can feel yourself building up to the peak you want to reach so badly in no time, forgetting why you're in the position you are in the first place.

"Jungwon—" you whine, and he stops his thrusts almost immediately, his deliciously thick length pulling all the way back, his tip the only thing left in you. The loss is unbearable, and you wiggle your hips as if to coax more of his cock back into you again, all to no avail.

"No, no, no baby, who am I?"

You feel like crying, and a single tear does slip out of your eye, gravity making it fall somewhere on the bed. Jungwon doesn't care though, not when you refuse to give him what he wants to hear.

He moves his hips teasingly, as if to bait you to give in, he fucks you gently with just the tip, over and over again, careful to not give you too much. "C'mon baby, I know you can do it."

You clench around his tip, silently begging for more. More that will never come if you don't give in, and you know it. It's on the tip of your tongue, and you want to give in so badly.

So you do. "Please, daddy."

Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but Jungwon hears you loud and clear, and it's enough for him.

His hips plunge against yours, and you gasp when you feel his thick cum fill you up so unexpectedly. He barely moves, coaxing spur after spur of seed as he empties himself inside of you. Your walls flutter against his sensitive cock, and your hips twitch when he suddenly moves his thumb over your puffy clit, rubbing rough circles on it while he keeps fucking his own cum inside you.

"Good girl, milking me dry like this, yeah baby, keep doing that." His voice is rough and thick, sending pleasure right to your belly. You feel so full, so warm, as his movements never falter, even when his cock is raw from overstimulation.

"Daddy, 'am close."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby. Coming again, need you to come too." Even more cum fills you up at the name, and when Jungwon buries himself all the way in, thumb still circling your clit, and presses down with his other hand right on the bulge on your tummy, searing white blindness hits you for a moment as you come undone around him. His moans sound beautiful as you rhythmically clench around his thickness in your ecstasy, his thumb still working you through your orgasm.

It keeps going for longer than it ever has, your toes bent as if it's the only thing keeping you grounded while waves of pleasure keep crashing through you.

Jungwon slows down, but never pulls out of you completely, keeping his cum plugged inside of you. You're not holding onto your legs anymore, and his body gives in on top of you with one last teasing thrust, crushing you a little with his weight.

"Hey," you protest, still in the process of catching your breath.

"Mhh." He nuzzles his forehead against yours, uncaring for the sweat sticking you together. "That was good."

You giggle, a light feeling washing over you, spreading from your chest to your limbs in soothing waves. "Yeah, I think you liked me calling you daddy a little too much."

You feel lightheaded, in a good way. And in Jungwon's arms, you know you're as safe as you could ever be. It fills your heart with longing, even if he's right there with you.

Jungwon wraps his arms around you, spinning you both around on the messy bed sheets, quickly switching up your positions so you're on top of him, your head resting right on his chest.

His heartbeat, slowly going back to being steady, gently lulls you to sleep, even when the sun outside shines in through your window and casts the shadows of the windowsill plants over the tangled mess your and Jungwon's legs make up. He kisses your forehead once, then again, slowly aligning his softening cock to slide back into you. "Maybe. You should've done that sooner."

[hinatsu]

gimmie a drabble on sub!virgin!armin having sex for the first time with gf!reader 😛😛

an. ᡴꪫ ask and u shall receive :3 i got a little carried away oopsie (req me here im desperate)

your lips trail over the freckles scattered along his collarbone, warm and lazy, like you’ve got all the time in the world. your hand holds him gently by the neck, thumb brushing just under his jaw as you guide the tip of his cock to your pussy, thick virgin cock splitting you open, and he’s already breathless before you even fully bottom out.

and when you finally take him all the way in—when he’s buried to the hilt, hot and twitching inside you, his back arches off the bed, mouth falling open with a loud helpless moan, head rolling back against the pillow.

“ohmygod, f-fuck… i—” he gasps, voice cracking, hands flying to your waist like he needs to hold onto something real. like he needs you. he’s trembling under you, chest rising and falling fast, eyes blown so wide they barely look blue anymore. he forces himself to look at you, even if it’s overwhelming, he needs to watch the way you take him like you were made for it.

“you feel so good,” he whines, hips stuttering up into yours, messy and eager and completely wrecked. “'s too good—can’t fuckin' think—baby,—”

his hands are everywhere now, gripping, sliding, searching. one on your thigh, one splayed over your lower back, trying to keep you close, trying to memorize the shape of you. his head tips forward, forehead resting against your shoulder as he chokes out another sound, high and broken.

“please,” he breathes, so soft you almost miss it. “please don’t stop. need it, need you to fuck me, oh god,”

you shush him gently, nails dragging lightly down his spine, and he whimpers into your skin like he might fall apart just from that.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” you murmur, guiding his hips with yours “so perfect for me.”

his eyes fucking cross, he's moaning so shamelessly, he's pink all over, he can't control it.

“i love you, love you so much, i’m close—” the words fall out in a frantic gasp as he suddenly pulls you down to him, flipping you onto your back so fast it knocks the air out of your lungs. you barely register the sheets beneath you before he’s on top, rutting into you with messy, desperate thrusts.

he doesn’t know how to use his dick yet—doesn’t need to. it’s raw fucking instinct now, driven by how warm you feel, how tight you are, how pretty your face looks beneath him.

“‘m sorry,” he whimpers, voice shaking as he leans in close, breath hot against your cheek. “don’t know how t’ make it last—f-feels too good, can’t stop—”

and neither can you.

your back arches, fingers digging into his shoulders as the angle shifts, the head of his cock catching just right—deep and eager and so sloppy but perfect. you’re right there with him, pleasure curling up your spine, your thighs trembling.

“armin,” you gasp, jaw going slack as you clutch him tighter, “fuck—‘m gonna cum!”"

“look at me,” he begs, cupping your cheek like he needs to see you fall apart with him. “please, wanna see you,wanna cum with you, please—”

your eyes lock with his, pussy clenching around him as you cum, hips bucking up into his in shaky, stuttering pulses.

he falls apart the second he feels you tighten, crying out your name like it’s a prayer, like it’s the only word he’s ever known. his cock throbs inside you as he cums, thick globs of seed stuffing you impossibly full.

“ooh—oh my go—” he whines, voice cracking, “thank you, thank you!"

he’s still trembling when he slumps forward, face buried into the crook of your neck.

you blink once. then twice. still dazed. "babe... are you sure you were a virgin?"

[angellust333]

currently thinking ab yearner!dean who’s secretly crazy in love w you, his bsf. he can’t tell anyone, not even sam (who clearly knows since deans crush on you is so adorable n obvious). he hates himself for noticing how good your ass looks in those skimpy little shorts while you’re lounging around in the bunker (he literally wants to take a bite out of it, you just look so edible), for noticing how pretty your eyes look when you’re sleepy and dazed while on long road trips in the impala (and how badly he wishes you were looking up at him with those pretty eyes while sucking him off), and he hates himself & his deep obsession with your tits that is simply unholy (he’ll even go super fast over speed bumps just to see your tits bounce, imagining how good they’d look bouncing in front of him while you’d ride him). he’s so obsessed to the point the faint smell of your perfume lingering around drives him insane. who could blame him? how could he not be so obsessed with you?

———————————————————————

hi guys! this is legit my first time posting or writing a drabble ever and idk how to feel about it but jensen ackles has me in such a chokehold it’s insane. dean winchester the man that u are.

[silentaffirmations]

⠀ 💭 ۪ 𓂃 KISSMARKS ON OBJECTS!

─ multi x gn!reader. drabbles of kissing various objects and getting lipstick all over them.

➴ romantic relationship(s) prestablished, possibly unrealistic &. weirdly characterized, cursing, tooth rotting fluffy-ness me thinks, romantic and possibly suggestive, kissing &. making out, neck marking/kissing, post- or pre- realization idgaf, player is meaning to be gender neutral but wears lipstick for the sake of this writing. do with this what you will, player is hinted to be shorter then hank four, i have no consistent writing style and it lowkey continously changes with each character i write but we ball, seems a little free-use on the hanks part but whatever 💔, I HAVEN'T FINISHED PARKERS LOVE ROUTE YET SPARE ME OF HATE. lowercase intended &. not proofread. inspired by date-eveeything!

THE HANKS!

everything was a blur of lips and giggles. endlessly were you pulled left and right, meeting a new mouth or just part of someone's face each time. it was nice nonetheless, the soft feverish drag of lips on one another, lipstick smeared haphazardly among the six. you kinda forgot how this had even begun, but worrying about something like that instead of the, quite literal, push and pull of intimacy would've been idiotic.

broken out of your thoughts, you felt someone pull you up to their firm chest all the same, eyes catching the sight of those familiarly red curls. a low squeal escaped you even after it all, feeling hank three eagerly kiss you and effectively scrubbing off your lipstick further. hank three surely had it the worse, positively covered in lipstick marks that ran from his forehead down to his neck, and it contrasted beautifully with his ginger hair and flushed, freckled covered cheeks.

you pulled away from the kiss, dazed eyes glancing around, really just taking it all in. you were met with grins, and felt yourself back once more, feeling your head get tilted back and lips meeting theirs like a scene in a romance movie. you can't dwell on it long, giggles muffled into your mouth, and it was a safe assumption that it was hank four.

slowly pulling away from hank fours lips, you blinked multiple times, swallowing built up saliva. you let your head tilt back into place, back still pressed up against hank fours chest, and you found your head reeling for thoughts.

"breathless already?" you heard hank three question teasingly, and you could only jump as hank one suddenly slid infront of you. you suddenly became aware of how your breath was shallow, yet quick, and how your heart was beating loudly in your ears. your cheeks felt unbearably warm.

you were about to answer, though felt hank one stopping you with his mouth. you sighed lowly, hank fours hands drifting to your hips and keeping you in place gently, and you couldn't help but lean back into his comfortable embrace, prompting hank one to lean forward as to keep the kiss going.

your hands reached up, bracing themselves against hank ones shirt. they balled up into fists, getting a soft grab at hank ones top. feeling hank one back away, you bit your bottom lip, breathing deeply through your nose.

hank two sheepishly slid over to your side, timid touch reaching your chin and tilting your head over to where he was. your lips connected with his easily, and you let your bruised bottom lip free from your teeth.

you tensed just barely, feeling someone's, surely lipstick-covered, nose prod at your neck. you eased quickly, feeling soft pecks pressed against the skin, and you get just a small glimpse of light brown skin; hank five. it was a little ticklish, but naturally nice feeling. it was abruptly broken, the soft romance of his little kisses paired with sudden bites against somewhere near your jugular, and there was no mistake it was hank three.

the night was sure to end with your lipstick completely transferred onto the other five, lips puffy and used, and neck filled with markings that would've taken days to ridden of, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

MAC!

infront of you was such a gorgeous sight. mac was covered in lipstick marks, looking hazy with eyes filled with love, pupils almost carved into hearts. they smiled sweetly, feeling the comfortable feel of your body ontop of theirs. it was grounding, feeling you cautiously seated upon their lap, kept in their wheelchair that had been locked, assuring it wouldn't move.

"i love you," they murmured quietly, almost mistaken as another sound of wind, but you heard them loud and clear anyways. you return a smile, leaning forward and pressing further kisses upon their burning face, feeling the heat under your lips. sure, they were overheating most definitely, but they would rather die then ruin such an intimate moment with a complaint of how they were burning up. it could wait.

kisses trailed down their face to their soon-to-be-marked neck, letting your lipstick drag against their skin. your actions spoke more than the words you never said, lips brushing against their body being enough said. it was a silent 'i love you', and they basked in the warmth of it, no matter if it wasn't verbal.

they steadily moved their hands to move from your hips to your waist, pulling you closer till it would've been impossible to shift you any more near them no matter how hard they tried. they gave another breathless whisper of confessing their love, surely having been the tenth time they had stated it, and it only made you laugh quietly with adoration. it was admiring how much mac could repeat their words of love over and over, yet could make it feel like it was for the first time again.

moving back up, you let your lips meet theirs, the world outside of the feeling of their lips upon yours forgettable. it was gentle, yet told a million words that could've been spoken poetically, and it was something to relish in. even after it ended, the love it carried felt endless.

"i love you too," you finally respond. it was quick, quiet, but cute. mac sighs dreamily, leaning forward and resting their forehead onto your shoulder, letting the thoughts of them being oh so warm be buried away with how much they loved you.

with a red face and a bright smile, they flutter their eyes closed, wanting to be as close too you as possible, and it worked. curling their arms around your waist completely, your chest pressed against their own, they could've ugly sobbed at how much love you two shared. they were happy to know you were theirs, and they were yours, and maybe that's all that mattered at the end of the day.

PARKER!

parker loved games, and of course it made sense. he loved the games you made up specifically, and especially so when you would play the kissing game with him! he found himself shifting excitedly beneath you, feeling kisses pressed against anywhere you could reach. giddy giggles bubbled in his throat, as if each movement you did was ticklish upon him, and maybe they truly were.

"tickles," he hums, confirming your thoughts and it was as if he could read your head. wouldn't be that crazy for parker to be able to do such a thing, as i mean, cmon. its parker.

you laugh a little, comfortably straddling his hips with your hands shifting up to hold his jaw. you lightly tilt his head up, exposing unmarked skin, and it was quick to be covered in the familiar color of your lipstick. parker helped you a little, lifting his head up further till it was completely lulled back onto the planks. although the floor was unforgiving and rough against his back, your warmth cradled him like a towel would after a cold shower.

he stared up at the roof, feeling your lips make work on his pretty skin. it was nice to kick back every once and a while and let himself go, even if he did occasionally still miss playing a board game despite being literally loved on completely at the moment.

"thanks," he sighs absent-mindedly. he, himself, wasn't sure what he was thankful for, but nonetheless it was said, and he didn't dull on it for to long feeling your lips press right over where his heart would be underneath his clothing. you felt the beats slowly spike under your mouth, insinuating parker was flustered, and it made you just let out another laugh, though this one softer, kinder. it lingered there, if not just for a moment, before you unfortunately pulled away, admiring the work of art below you.

he pouted slightly, your lipstick staining his clothing, but it vanished quickly as you pressed a chaste kiss on his mouth. he couldn't stay mad for to long, and you knew that very well. nevertheless, you gave a little apology, a hefty amount of playfulness in your tone expectantly.

"its fine, lucky charm." he sat up slightly, expecting the game to be over, before he felt himself be gently pressed down by your hand that rested front and center on his chest. he blinked, looking at you before feeling your lips against his own, hearing a small murmur that you weren't done yet, and he couldn't believe how much his face reddened, eagerly reciprocating the kiss afterwards.

all credits to silentaffirmations on tumblr. everything made by me. do not reupload, feed to 🤖, take as your own, etc.

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — sae itoshi & rin itoshi: new frames, same heartthrob !

synopsis: coming home from a long day, you're caught off guard by the rare sight of him wearing glasses.

sae itoshi x reader / rin itoshi x reader ⭑ drabble / fluff / hot nerd moment ??? + likes & reblogs are appreciated <3

note: I LOVEEEE MEN WHO WEAR GLASSES AND ARE ATTRACTIVE AND READ LIKE LORDDD GIVE ME ONE OF THOSE PLEASE

— rin itoshi

you came home from uni later than usual, keys jangling as you pushed open the door, already rehearsing your dramatic sigh about how your day had been hell. but the words died the second your eyes landed on your boyfriend.

rin was sitting on the couch, a novel in one hand, his other arm resting casually along the backrest. a soft, lamplight glow spilled over the room, catching in the dark strands of his hair and the clean lines of his fitted shirt, the one with the sleeves just tight enough to show off the way his biceps flexed every time he turned a page.

and the glasses.

thin. black frames. new. sharp. criminal.

your mouth may have gone a little dry.

he didn't look up at first, flipping the page with that same casual grace he always carried, but you swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

"stop staring," he said without looking at you.

you blinked, still frozen in place. "since when do you wear glasses?"

"a few days," he replied, finally glancing at you over the top of them. his eyes, usually sharp and cool, softened just slightly like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"i-" you started, then stopped. "you look really good."

his lip quirked. "obviously."

you walked over and dropped your bag by the couch. "no like, unfairly good. unethically hot and everything."

he finally closed the book, slipping a thumb between the pages. "then come here."

you did. because you always did. and when he pulled you into his lap and kissed you slow, glasses and all, you decided sleep could wait a little longer.

— sae itoshi

you didn't expect sae to be home yet.

the apartment was quiet when you stepped inside, only the soft hum of the heater breaking the silence. you dropped your bag by the door and rounded the corner, then froze.

sae sat on the couch, legs crossed, a book resting in one hand while the other toyed absentmindedly with the edge of the page. a fitted button-down hung loosely off his shoulders, sleeves rolled just high enough to reveal his forearms. but it wasn't the shirt or even the way his fingers moved with quiet precision.

it was the glasses.

thick, black, perched perfectly on the bridge of his nose. he never wore them. at least, not around you.

you blinked, your breath catching in your throat like your body had short-circuited at the sight.

sae glanced up slowly, noticing you for the first time. his eyes met yours, unbothered.

"you're home early," he said, voice low and even.

you swallowed hard. "you never told me you wore glasses."

"they're just for reading," he replied, then went back to his page like he hadn't just shattered your heart with how he looked.

you stood there, dazed.

he looked up again after a moment, faint amusement tugging at his mouth. "you're staring."

"you're unfair," you muttered.

that earned the ghost of a smirk. "and you're easily distracted."

you crossed the room and flopped onto him, your body pressing into his side as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. sae stiffened for half a second, then relaxed, his hand shifting automatically to your waist, pulling you closer in a way that felt almost natural.

"you're too good-looking for your own good."

he exhaled, something between a chuckle and a sigh. "is that so?"

you nodded into his shoulder, not even caring that he could feel your heartbeat racing.

sae was quiet for a moment before he muttered under his breath, more like he was talking to himself, "you're ridiculous."

but his arm around you tightened and you smiled.

he might never know how much that tiny, fleeting moment of him in glasses made you fall in love all over again.

[citrustan]

oh wow i’m obsessed with the latest yoongi drabble 😭🫶🏼 personally I think oc needs to leave his ass! GIRL GET UP PLEASEEEEEE 😫

yay! thank you 🙏

[snail-day]

Tw: Yandere Behaviors, Drugging, Implied Captivity, Suggestive, unedited, MDNI

I know I said no drabble today, but I gotta get this one little thought out of my noggin. Maybe I’m just tired, but I’m thinking: Yandere! Bruce Wayne is not above drugging you the first few times you stay over at his place.

Not maliciously, well, not in his head, anyway. No, in his head, it's just... precautionary.

Because once you start getting a little too curious for his liking - asking why his knuckles are always bruised, why he disappears in the middle of the night, why he keeps you at such a frustrating, arm’s-length distance - he panics. He lives a dangerous life. And he’s not quite sure how you’d handle knowing the truth. So instead, he plays it safe.

He slips a sedative into your water. Right after love-making, of course. Aftercare is always important to him especially when you’re with a monster like him.

Your skin’s still flushed, slick with sweat and thighs trembling from the amount of orgasms he dragged out of you. He’s so gentle in the aftermath. Obsessively so. Fingers combing through your hair, coaxing you into one of his shirts. His lips graze your shoulder, murmuring praise between each feather light kiss.

Then comes the glass of water.

He holds it to your lips with that same tenderness, thumb stroking along your jaw as he watches you drink. Condensation beads along the sides, catching the light, there’s a slight fizz at the bottom, a shimmer of something off, but you don’t notice. You’re too dazed or blissed out to care.

He offers you a ride home, one you agree to with a nod, lips parting for another sip, unaware that your legs are already growing heavy. That your body is already surrendering again, just not in the way you think.

You won’t make it to the front door. He knows that.

And when your eyes start to flutter, your head tilting against his chest, he just smiles, placing the glass on the nightstand.

He thinks it’s cute, the way you drool a little on his chest when it kicks in. When your words start slurring, and you try to apologize for being tired. When you mumble something about needing to get home, but you never really had that chance, not after he brought you here, silly.

And when he slips out of bed, hours later, to suit up and bleed for the city, he makes sure the dosage is just right. Strong enough that you won’t wake up and wander. Strong enough that when he slips back into bed before dawn, smelling like smoke and iron, you'll just blink up at him sleepily and think it was all a dream.

He curls beside you, lets you burrow into his side, and smiles when you sigh against his chest. You’re so sweet like this. So soft and safe.

And you have no idea what kind of man you’re really sleeping next to.

[fawnnlvr]

model | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x model!reader

masterlist

author's note: small small 1k words drabble that has been on my mind for a long time and i feel like it should he shared with the world. inspired by the middle photo because it genuinely haunts me in my dreams in a good way.

"Come on pretty boy, smile for me." you softly spoke as you stared down at your boyfriend, a camera right beside your face as your finger hovered over the top button.

Spencer's hands rested on your hips as they steadied your stance. He sat on the couch as you straddled him, legs on either side of his body, locking him in place.

He would be lying if he said it was a wonder how he got in that position, but due to his memory, he remembered it clearly. His curious nature of needing to know everything had gotten him in that position, forcefully might he add.

Being the partner of a model, he should have expected that you would own a variety of cameras to capture your beauty. He innocently picked one up and started to snap a few candid photos as you and him went on a book date. The two of you messed around with the camera, snapping photos of each other in silly poses. One thing had led to another and Spencer found himself under your powerful, sultry gaze.

"You can't force me to model for you." he laughed, thinking this entire idea of you photographing him like he was a model to be absurd.

"You, my pretty boy, are a model in my eyes and I want to capture you with my lens."

"This was supposed to be your photoshoot." this entire thing began simply because he liked taking photos of you— to preserve all the moments he had with you. He isn't the type have his photos taken and he was fine with that idea because in his eyes, you are the star— his star.

"I'm a model. I've had many photoshoots in my lifetime so now its time for the student to become the master."

"That isn't how the saying goes nor is this the right context—" he was silenced by your manicured finger finding its way to his lips, successfully shutting it.

You moved the camera from your face to look at him, "Come on. No one will see these photos, but us." he still looked a little reluctant so you sighed and moved closer, your lips to his ear, "We can take a little more private photos if you want to later. A little boudoir—"

His breathing became uneven as you felt him swallow. His grip became slightly more stronger on his hips as he stared up at you, the pupils of his eyes increasing.

"Just for you." you used a free hand to caress his jaw. Just for him. Only for his eyes to see.

"S-so, what's the theme for this photoshoot?"

"A handsome man who loves his girlfriend?" you tilted your head as you suggested a theme that barely needed any acting and just his face.

"Very doable."

"Great. This camera is a sort of one and done so we need to be very selective on the positions." your hand stayed on his jaw, a thumb to his cheek as you tilted his head to be in the perfect position for the camera to catch him from above.

Spencer leaned into your warm touch, "I feel nervous looking into the camera."

"Look at me then," he stared at you through his eyelashes as he leaned his head into the palm of your hand, "there we go."

He looked like a lovesick puppy from that position. Staring up at you from behind the camera with these cloudy dazed eyes. Looking at you as if you were his world and he couldn't believe you were his and he was yours.

Snap!

The polaroid made noise as the mechanical engineering inside of it had colorized and printed the photo. A few seconds later and the photo was already rising from the top.

Spencer raised his hand and placed it on top of yours that rested on his face. Using his free hand, he grabbed the photo from the camera and placed it off to the side to complete.

"That will be mine. We can take two." you told him, already cheesing at the sight in front of you as well as unsure how you would be able to handle your hot boyfriend in this position forever preserved in a photo.

"Same position?" Spencer asked as the camera was already in place to snap another photo.

"You have more artistic direction. Whatever suits your boat."

"It's float your boat, but I do have a small idea." He used a hand to guide yours from the higher side of his face to the lower. Your thumb slid from his cheek to his soft lips, tracing the small traces of your lipgloss. His lips slightly parted and his hand that was one yours had let go before it found its place on your waist.

Your felt your thumb slowly go further in and Spencer kept eye contact as he brought his lips into a circle to slowly suck the tip of your thumb. Tilting his head just slightly up, you swore you saw an angel.

An unsteady breath escaped your mouth as you felt your stomach tense, "I feel like I should pray to the heavens for blessing me with this sight."

Spencer tried to suppress his smile for the sake of the photo, but it was obvious in the ways his eyes crinkled and the way he was staring into the camera lens as if he was staring into your soul.

You hurried to snap the photo, afraid that a moment like this could slip away and you wouldn't be able to remember the full details or relive it to its fullest. As soon as the camera finished capturing the scene, you gently placed it down on the table beside the ends of your couch before pulling Spencer in for a kiss.

Hands in his hair, softly tugging it and pulling him closer, letting your lipstick paint his lips, nose, cheeks and all over his face.

It was going to be a long night.

[meenaxskz]

running out of protections aka everybody's sooo creative! (bf!hyunjin x reader)

drabble | bf!hyunjin x reader au genre: very light smut (just in case…but mostly crack) | crack warnings: mature suggestive content | language summary: you’re finally about to get SOME with your boyfriend but... uh oh. no condoms. disaster strikes. hyunjin, ever the dramatic creative genius, tries to solve the problem… with plastic wrap. a/n : please do NOT try this at home lol. saran wrap is for leftovers, not your love life. don't forget to wrap it before you tap it you hoes

you’re on the bed. it’s late. the lights are low. spotify is playing something vaguely sexy but honestly you stopped noticing the music after the second makeout session.

his hands are everywhere. your shirt? pushed up. his sweatpants? around one ankle. your legs? tangled. your breath? gone.

he’s kissing down your neck, moaning into your skin. his hand slides into your underwear and jesus take the wheel, you gasp.

it’s happening. this is it. you are moments away from finally doing the deed after a week of teasing, bad timing, and one horrifying moment when changbin walked in to borrow toothpaste.

hyunjin pauses “wait”

you open your eyes, dazed “huh?”

“condom?” he breathes, blinking down at you, lips red and pupils blown.

you blink back. “drawer?”

he nods. dramatic. heroic. pants halfway down, he dives off the bed and immediately trips over a hoodie on the floor and faceplants into the carpet.

you roll your eyes“oh my god.”

hyunjin muffled “i’m fine.”

he army crawls to the nightstand, still pantsless. opens the top drawer. freezes. opens the second one. then… the third. silence.

“…hyunjin???” no answer. you sit up. “what’s wrong.”

he turns slowly, face pale “we’re out.”

you blink. “no we’re not. check again.”

“i did. twice. and i even looked in the emergency sock.”

you gasp. “not the emergency sock.”

“it’s EMPTY. we’re animals”

you sigh, disappointed and… yeah, a little frustrated “okay. well. then it’s over. no big deal.”

“no big deal??” he gasps. “BABE. my body was READY. my soul is NAKED.”

you cross your arms “well i’m not doing anything without protection”

he sits up slowly, a glint in his eyes “i’ll make one”

you pause “what.”

he stands. “i’ll make one”

“…what.”

“i have saran wrap. and tape.”

“WHAT.”

he’s already sprinting to the kitchen. you chase after him in nothing but a tshirt.

“hyunjin don’t you DARE”

“i’m doing this FOR US” he calls, yanking open drawers “for SAFETY. for SCIENCE. for SEX.”

he slams a roll of plastic wrap on the counter like a mad scientist.

“okay, so if i fold it like this...”

“STOP.”

“...and wrap it twice for protection”

“STOP RIGHT THERE.”

“...and add a little masking tape”

“ARE YOU TRYING TO GET AN INFECTION??”

he spins around “NO I’M TRYING TO GET SOME AFFECTION”

you grab the saran wrap. he clutches it like a child losing his blankie.

“hwang hyunjin, if you put leftover sandwich wrap on your dick, i will call your mom”

he gasps “low blow”

“this entire situation is a low blow”

“you’re just mad you didn’t think of it first”

“OH MY GOD”

he folds his arms “then what’s the point of me learning origami if i can’t use it for sex”

“you are NOT learning origami you maniac!”

“...okay, true. but i believe in myself”

you groan, grab two capri suns from the fridge, and drag him back to the couch like a toddler mid tantrum.

cut to: 20 minutes later. you’re both in pajamas. face masks on. watching a baking show. sipping capri sun like nothing happened.

he looks over, sad “we were so close. i had a plan.”

you side eye him. “you were going to macgyver a condom”

“and?”

“you were about to stick your dick in a taco shaped plastic balloon.”

“it would’ve been beautiful.”

you smirk. “baby, you have a hot face. but your brain is held together by string cheese”

he grins proudly “you think i have a hot face?”

you stare at him “you literally tried to commit craft based cock crimes.”

he shrugs “if loving you means turning into a DIY guru, so be it.”

you chuckle. “okay, guru. next time, just… restock.”

he grabs your hand. dramatic. “i’ll buy a whole box. i’ll buy ten. i’ll get a COSTCO MEMBERSHIP”

you: “okay now that’s hot.”

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

[hoondrop]

hi, moon !! this is my first time sending an ask >< can i ask creampie with hoon then he fingers his cum back inside her pussy and makes her cum again and he tastes it ! tysm, you’re an angel i love ur works 🥺🥺

a/n: you're the angel here with your sweet messages 🫶🏻 I hope you like this little hoon drabble anon mwah

Your back hits the mattress with a soft thud, legs spread lazily, body flushed from how hard he just took you. His silk shirt is still on — unbuttoned, hanging open, sleeves rolled, his skin sticky with heat.

Sunghoon leans over you, still catching his breath. His cock, wet and satisfied, twitches against your thigh. His eyes? Unmoving, locked on the mess between your legs like he’s entranced.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You look ruined.”

He reaches between your thighs again, fingers slipping through your slick, dragging slowly over your entrance. You squirm, overstimulated, but he just smiles.

“Sensitive?” he murmurs. “Too bad, baby. I’m not done.”

Two fingers push in.. slowly, deliberately.. and your breath hitches.

“Gotta make sure every drop of me stays where it belongs,” he says, leaning down to whisper it into your ear. “Deep in this greedy little cunt.”

You let out a broken noise and he groans at the sound, fucking his fingers into you gently, curling them just enough to make you twitch again.

“Still so tight,” he grits out. “You came for me, took all of me, and you're still so fucking desperate.”

He watches the way your body clenches around his fingers, how your hips roll up despite how sore you are.

“God, look at you,” he growls. “You’re throbbing. You like when I stuff it back in, don’t you?”

You can’t answer. You’re whimpering, arching, mouth open but speechless.

He pulls his fingers out, slow, shining with the evidence of everything he just gave you, and lifts them to your lips.

“Taste it,” he commands, soft but dark. “Taste what I do to you.”

You part for him, and the second your tongue touches his skin, he’s kissing you again; rougher this time, lips claiming you like he’s still inside.

“Mine,” he groans into your mouth. “All of you. Always.”

Your body’s still quivering; thighs slick, chest rising, breath slow and wrecked. You’re not sure how much time has passed. You just know Sunghoon hasn’t stopped touching you.

His shirt is still open, clinging to his chest. One hand is braced beside your head, the other slips down your stomach.

He runs his fingers over the curve of it — slow, almost idle — but there’s something behind his eyes now. Not just lust.

Something deeper.

“Right here,” he murmurs, voice low. “You feel that?”

You twitch.

“That’s where I want to stay. Where I want to be.”

You blink up at him, dazed. He doesn’t look at your face — not yet. His eyes are locked on your belly like it’s sacred.

He presses his palm flat, fingers spread, applying the slightest bit of pressure.

“One day,” he says. “One day, I’m gonna fill you so deep you won’t just feel me... you’ll carry me.”

Your breath catches.

“Right here. You’ll wake up sore and aching, and I’ll still be inside you. Deeper than ever. All mine.”