#*opens camera and to see how i look when i smile when i rest when i frown when i talk when i

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 5

Pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader, Grid x Reader

Summary: the wedding, not too much grid involvement (sorry!!!)

masterlist

________

You didn't expect planning a wedding to be this hard. You and Lance agreed on something more low-key, but that doesn't really happen when you are both famous in your own right and you are marrying the son of a billionaire, so you settled on a fancy but small wedding. Lawrence funded the whole wedding, wanting the day to go off without a hitch, besides you and Lance getting hitched obviously. Lance took care of planning the Honeymoon, leaving you and Lawrence to plan the wedding.

"Y/n, go take a break. You are stressing out over nothing my dear. Let me handle it, your wedding shouldn't be stressful," Lawrence rests his hand on your shoulder and you nod, taking a deep breath. Your soon-to-be father-in-law has done a great job so far at bringing your vision to life, so you trusted him to argue with the beach venue in Greece. You walked away and went to the mini library of the Switzerland home.

Your bridal party/mini vacation to a small beach town in Corsica, planned by none other than George Russell and Chloe Stroll, was fabulous. The weekend flew by so quick, and Daniel made it his personal mission to get you drunk off your ass 24/7. The whole book club, besides Fernando made up your bridal party, in addition to George, Logan, and Chloe.

“Y/n, you look beautiful,” Chloe and Claire help the stylists put finishing touches on you. The greek sun has tanned you perfectly the past couple days, and given you a beautiful glow. There is a knock on the door and Chloe is quick to open it. Your bridal party walks in, dressed in their tan suits.

“My daughter, you look stunning,” Kimi hugs you, he is giving you away on your request.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Your bridal party consists of Chloe (your maid of honor), the book club (minus Fernando who is with his teammate), George, and Logan. Logan’s groomsmen is also filled with drivers as well as Chloe’s husband Scotty who is serving as his Best Man.

“Alright, time for one last meeting before testing,” Checo says, one of your wedding photographers making sure to catch the moment on camera. An hour filled with laughter passes quickly and soon enough, Lawrence is guiding you to your first look with Lance. It was one thing that you and Lance were certain of, wanting the private moment for yourselves.

Lance is standing on the balcony staring at the ocean, waiting for you. You spot a photographer standing in a corner of the large space, trying to remain invisible as you slip onto the balcony.

“Come here often?” your voice shakes slightly as the breath leaves you. He looks utterly handsome in his suit and perfectly styled hair.

“I- you look- wow,” he says, taking in every inch of you. Both of you look at each other, tears pricking in your eyes.

“I can, and will, say the same thing about you,” you grin, stepping towards him. He carefully pulls you into him, kissing you.

“I can’t wait to make you my wife,” he rests his forehead on yours.

“Half an hour,” you could hear the sounds of your guests filling in.

“Then they will be able to see the most beautiful woman in the world,” Lance smiles, your heart racing.

“It will be a shame that they won’t be looking at you. How will they know that I am the luckiest girl in the world,” you return his smile.

“No, I am the luckiest guy. I get to marry a multitalented woman. You are an incredible racer, the most beautiful woman on earth, the kindest soul, and yet you choose me,” he continues his flattery.

“I am a good racer, not incredible,” you laugh. You aren’t like Max, Charles, Lando or Carlos, you don’t fight for podiums as often, but you do tend to hang around P4 or P5. You aren’t a world championship winning driver, it’s why Red Bull signed you to replace Checo in the upcoming season following his retirement. They need a solid second driver, and they know that Max will teach you more and push you.

“Nonsense, my baby is going to be driving for Red Bull, they chose you for a reason,” Lance reassures you.

“Y/n, Lance, one more minute,” Chloe interrupts.

“I’ll see you out there,” you squeeze his hands, a motion he returns. After a quick kiss, you follow him off the balcony. Your stylists do some quick touch ups before your party is escorted outside, you watch as the procession starts, Lance leading the pairs down the aisle. The grid takes the coupling in stride, holding arms with each other and making everyone giggle at them, including you.

“Are you ready, Kirppu?” Kimi asks, tears in his eyes.

“Remember, I’m training you for whenever those three get married,” you glance at your adoptive siblings.

“I know, they adore their older sister. Let’s not make Lance wait any longer,” Kimi sighs as you squeeze his arm. You and Kimi walk gracefully down the aisle, a wide smile on your face, and Kimi’s usually stoic face full of emotion. When the officiant, aka Sebastian Vettel, asks who is giving you away, he proudly identifies himself as your father, and when he sits down beside Minttu he is crying like a baby. The ceremony flies by, but you and Lance soak in every detail. Your vows to each other are short and sweet, not needing to say a lot to profess your love to each other.

“You may now kiss the bride,” Sebastian says, Lance wastes no time in wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into a kiss. The guys on both sides of you go nuts, Kimi cries again, and you pull apart with a grin. Lance picks you up and carries you down the aisle.

The reception takes place on the beach, you changed into a shorter, flowier, white dress for dancing and sand purposes, Lance’s suit jacket is off and the top few shirt buttons are undone. You and Lance entered first for the sole purpose of wanting to see how the ‘couples’ entered. Each driver pairing made the both of you laugh your butts off, very glad that there is video evidence of it.

You both refused to let Netflix film and other celebrity news outlets photograph any parts of the wedding, they weren’t invited and if they wanted media from it, they can pay the both of you a hefty sum. The security provisions for keeping away paparazzi meant that everyone was able to truly enjoy themselves.

“Family photo!” Minttu says, pulling you and Lance over as the reception starts. The first picture is just Robin, Rianna, and you carefully holding Grace, then Lance gets added in, then Kimi and Minttu join, then Lance leaves the picture so it is only you 6.

“My icecubes,” Kimi smiles at the pictures adoringly.

“One day we are going to drive for Ferrari together, just like Iskä,” Robin looks up at you and you smile, knowing that you will be far to old to do that when he is in F1.

“Heck yeah, little bro,” you hug him. Maybe you will get to be his race engineer, congratulating him when he wins his first championship.

“You two will be champions of the world together,” Lance winks at you and Robin.

“You look like a princess and a prince,” Rianna says, you pick her up and hug her. Kimi is silently combusting while watching his kids be cute together.

“That makes you a princess too, since you are my little sister,” you tickle her and she squirms out of your arms into Lance’s.

“I’ll protect you, don’t worry,” he angles her away from you as she laughs.

“Hey!” you laugh as well.

“Ok kids, let your older sister and brother greet their other guests,” Minttu says, Lances heart swells hearing himself included. You both make your laps around the tables, greeting the guests before dinner is served. The speeches are wonderful, and before you know it, you are dancing with Kimi for your Father-Daughter dance.

“Are you ok, Dad? You are crying more than I think you ever have,” you smile softly, as he uses a had to wipe his eyes.

“I just never expected to grow so close to you when I offered to mentor you, and now you are for all intents and purposes my daughter, and I’m so proud of how much you’ve accomplished this past year. If I had it my way, your last name would be Räikkönen, not Stroll now,” Kimi sniffles.

“About that. My new legal name is Y/n Räikkönen-Stroll. I talked to the family about it and they agreed, I was going to wait to surprise you,” you reveal, his smile quickly growing.

“I’m so happy to call you my daughter,” he hugs you as the song ends.

“No more happy as I am to call you my dad,” you squeeze him tight. As the night ends, you and Lance are whisked away to catch the private jet to wherever Lance planned the Honeymoon.

instagram

y/username now and forever Y/n Räikkönen-Stroll ily @/lancestroll

lancestroll can’t wait to spend forever with you ❤️

fernandoalonso félicitations , beautiful wedding!

kimiraikkonen Congratulations, Kirppu, so glad to have a new addition to the family.

y/username thanks dad!

sebastianvettel Congrats to the happy couple! Always a good wedding when Kimi cries!

logansargeant poor Nico, his grid wife has a grid husband now

nicohulkenberg No one can separate us, our love is eternal

y/username who said I can’t have both! 🥰

lancestroll @y/username …me, your husband???

redbullracing our favorite grid couple! p.s. let us know what name your are racing under - Admin

y/username Y/n Räikkönen, two Strolls on the grid would be too chaotic. love you admin 🫶

comments on this post are limited

[luvlunajpg]

Caught ♡

♥︎ Pairing: Johnnie x fem reader

♥︎ Summary: Jake accidentally walked in on you and Johnnie doing the dirty while he was streaming

♥︎ Classification: slight fluff and smut

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆.✧˚ ༘˚⋆ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

It was 9pm you just got off your computer after a long day of streaming. You stretched your arms and cracked every knuckle to refresh yourself from the amount of cramps that was ignored during the stream. You decided to check on your boyfriend johnnie which was also streaming in his own office. You lightly opened his door to see him streaming while answering fan questions. he noticed you peeking through the door and gave you a quick wave before turning back to the computer.

“Sorry guys Y/N is spying on me right now. What a creep, wanna say hi?”

johnnie asked while waving at you to come over. You smiled and walked over to the camera to wave at his viewers.

“Hi guysss! How are you guys doing today? I just ended my stream a minute ago muah muah muah”

Johnnie giggled at the sight of his girlfriend blowing kisses at the camera. He rests his hand on your waist and rubbed his thumb over your hip bone causing you to have goosebumps.

“Alright babe this is my stream, yours ended a minute ago. Byeee”

Johnnie laughs as he lightly pushes you away from the camera. You rolled your eyes playfully and wave one last time to the camera before heading out. Before you head to your room, you saw Jake eating a box of Crumbl Cookies while streaming as well. At this point this has been something that is normal for you. you’ll often see the lights and cameras being set up around the house as if you’re a movie star but in reality, you’re just living with jake and johnnie. They need to make content and entertain their fans, you do the same thing as well nothing abnormal about this. You took a sip of cold water and waved at jake’s camera before jogging back to your room.

You took off your makeup, washed your face and slipped into the matching black lingerie set that johnnie bought for you on your birthday. You knew it was expensive so you just wore it to bed when you feel like it just to make his moneys worth. As you were scrolling through instagram you heard your door opened slowly. You looked over your shoulder to see your boyfriend johnnie walking in with the most exhausted face you’ve ever seen. You giggled at the sight of your tired boyfriend and pat on the empty space on your bed beside you. He groaned and flopped on that empty spot, letting him sink onto your soft velvet sheets. You played with his hair for a few minutes which caused him to lift his head up and whimper.

“mmmm babe~ you know i love it when you wear that black set. It looks so good on you” Johnnie whines as he sits up

“Oh really? I never noticed” you joked as you notice a bulge starting to form under johnnies jeans

Johnnie rolled his eyes and crashes his lips onto yours. Both of you started to make out and strip johnnie’s clothes one by one, leaving him with only his boxers on. You climbed onto his lap and gently rest your ass on his bulge causing him to groan. Johnnie leaves a trail of kisses from your lips all the way to your cleavage, leaving hickeys on your chest. You moan at the feeling of your chest being sucked and licked, you grind yourself against Johnnie’s bulge causing him to let out a moan.

“Y/N i want to fuck you so bad” johnnie moaned as he removes your lingerie and his boxers.

“Gosh they’re so perfect Y/N” johnnie sighs at the sight of your pierced nipples and perky breast infront of him. He place one of your boobs in his mouth causing you to moan and throw your head back. He swirls his tongue around your nipples as your hand gets lost in his hair. Both of you were grinding on eachother while Johnnie is leaving hickeys on your boobs. And suddenly the door slammed wide open

“OMG JOHNNIE YOU NEED TO— OH MY FUCK! SHIT! FUCK AHHH MY EYES OMG!!” Jake yells as he covers his eyes and drops the box of cookies on the floor

I jumped off johnnie and hid under the blankets as Johnnie covers himself as well

“WHAT THE FUCK DUDE ARENT YOU STREAMING?? GET OUT!!” Johnnie yells back at jake

“I AM STREAMING! I WAS LOOKING FOR YOU CAUSE I WANT YOU TO TRY THIS FLAVOUR OUT AND I KNOW YOU WOULD LOVE IT CAUSE-“

“JUST GET OUT!! JAKE!!!” Jake gets cut off by you and johnnie yelling at him. Jake apologises a countless of times as he attempts to leave the room with his eyes closed. After he finally leaves the room, johnnie locks the door behind him and nervously chuckle while scratching the back of his head. Your face was now as red as your velvet sheets and you still could not process how jake just walked in on you and Johnnie. Johnnie climbs back on the bed and giggled at your red face, giving your cheek a peck

“Now.. where were we?” Johnnie smirks while rubbing his thumb over your nipple piercing.

———————————————————————————

A/N:

hi you guys! I hope you guys enjoyed it ;-;, this is my first time writing smut or even fanfic in general so pls be nice hehe. Anyways! I’ll try and write more fanfic in the future. So far i am only comfortable in writing fluff and smut so feel free to give me any ideas on what i should write next. And yeah…

I LOVE YOU GUYS 🩷🖤

[peacesign11111111111111111]

i wish i wasnt so consumed with how i look. but here i am

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.

> fluff, suggestive / word count: 2.6k

> content/warnings: alexa play seven by jungkook! mentions of s^x, lots and lots of cutie kisses :( they’re in that afterglow <3 oc’s chest is his pillow :(

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hi. here’s ur slice of pure self indulgent fluff 🍰 i just had to write abt this jk :P there’s a reference to in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you 🥹 reblogs & feedback are vv appreciated. i’d love to hear ur thoughts so feel free to scream or laugh or cry <3

—

a fleeting white light passes through your closed eyelids, nearly blinding, as you hear the familiar shutter of your boyfriend’s polaroid camera.

“jungkook,” you whimper weakly due to the sudden disturbance, burying your face on the soft pillows while pushing the camera away.

“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.”

he places the polaroid face down on the space behind him to give it the time to develop the photo he had taken. much to your relief, the bedroom falls silent once more except for the quiet humming and breathing of the airconditioner. you return to properly laying your head on the pillow, taking a small gasp of oxygen, and jungkook smiles because of how adorable you are for still refusing to open your eyes.

“can i take more pictures?”

“did you turn it off?” you whisper as you stretch your legs to find a more comfortable position, unwittingly pulling down the comforter and exposing your nakedness to the cool air. this gives rise to goosebumps on your skin, causing you to shiver, but your boyfriend is quick to your rescue. he catches the hem before it could slide past your skimpy shorts.

“i did.”

a chaste kiss is planted on your shoulder before it is returned underneath the warmth of soft layers of cotton and fabric.

you sigh, melting back into relaxation. “okay.”

he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence.

this is… the arch of your back is burned in his mind and he swears he still tastes you on his tongue, but seeing you like this feels so different.

he was consumed by his pleasure and yours just half an hour ago, admittedly almost blinded by his own sweat dripping from his forehead because he simply couldn’t stop wanting more of you, giving himself to you. you weren’t exactly innocent either, with your provocative touches and coquettish smiles, whispering lewd words that was gasoline to the lust flaring up inside of him. he revels in seeing that you’re just as desperate for it as he is, if not more, purely from the way you beseech him with your eyes mirroring stained glass windows. he knows you love it when he fucks you so good it brings you to tears, welcoming the delightful intensity of his nature, and that you were also trying to tire him out so he’d finally feel sleepy, but holy shit, looking at you right now, he wants nothing more but to hold you with utmost gentleness.

wildly concentrated with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, he brushes away the hair that fell on your face before capturing another exquisite memory to be burned into film.

jungkook is greedy when it comes to you.

a disgruntled whine slips from your mouth when the pillow underneath your head is replaced by his thick arm, which is then rudely cut off by his lips crashing on yours.

clearly, you’ve grown too comfortable in this relationship.

“i love you.” he drunkenly mutters, instantly going for another kiss and barely finishing his another- “i love you.” before he’s kissing you again.

“babe-” you chuckle then gasp, holding on to his wrist as his tattooed hand loosely wraps around your neck.

“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around.

pure static— there are no thoughts running in your head. your limbs feel numb but tingly. you feel like you’re floating- no, you’re falling. the bed has turned into an abyss and you’re falling endlessly and jungkook holding you close is the only thing that makes sense. you might have to consider this true heaven, nothingness with your everything, when the whole world is lights-out and quiet that it feels like time has been suspended, and the only way to keep track of it is through each pump of your heart.

at last, your eyelids slowly flutter open as he pulls away, and he greets you with that boyish grin. “pretty.”

his hand on your neck moves to stroke your face lovingly, eyes glimmering with various emotions as they wander your features.

“____ is so, so pretty.”

“hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.”

“me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion.

“you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder.

“ahhh- ah!”

enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend.

his giggles blend in with yours for a harmony that strikes the same joy as the sound of wind chimes on a windy day.

jungkook tries not to appear too cocky about the compliment, but consequences be damned, he would die satisfying his lover.

“oh yeah, baby? do you now?” there’s a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face when you take a peek at him, which then morphs into a grin when your eyes meet. “i feel nice, too.”

“nice?” your voice comes out delicate, droopy eyes asking him for confirmation.

“nice.”

he feels a tug at his heartstrings.

“you know what? fucking great… i could never have enough of you.”

it becomes silent for a while. his tattooed hand slides under the comforter, letting his fingers skim across the side of your waist, feather-light touches on your bare skin before he’s pulling you closer to his body.

“i… i don’t doubt that feelings like this can only grow as time goes on but… it’s still amazing that when i think about it, even until now, all the time, i want to be with you.”

he involuntarily breathes out a shaky sigh, ears going red as they do when he’s expressing sincerity from the deepest parts of his soul.

“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.”

you barely process his words with your brain still in a haze of bliss, but it’s funny, hearing these questions from the same man who has the entire world madly obsessed with him.

oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?

“i won’t give away my secrets just like that. what if you use them on someone else?” you tease him, rubbing your tired eyes and shaking your head as you giggle.

you receive a dirty look from him, clearly offended and uninterested in the thought of putting in the hard effort to impress someone that isn’t you.

“aish, stop talking! i don’t like hearing you talk in that way.”

“then what else am i supposed to do? you’re the one who woke me up.” you retort in annoyance.

but you honestly don’t think there’s any secret to tell. jungkook is in love with you. plain and simple.

“you’re right, i’m sorry. go back to sleep if you want to.”

he dips down to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder, going down on a trail to your neck, and you unconsciously tilt your head to his convenience because he’s bringing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. it feels good, everything he does always feels good.

“you’re seriously not done?” you mumble against his lips, unfaltering with the kisses as if he would run out of them any minute now.

he stubbornly answers with a “no!” as his lips ghost over your cheek.

if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep.

“babe, you’re supposed to sleep. you have work later.”

“no, i don’t want to sleep. i… i want to kiss you- baby.” he protests as he continues to pepper your face with kisses, giving your body a particularly tight squeeze when he searches for your lips again.

you blink at him in confusion when he suddenly sends you a look of irritation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring.

“you haven’t even said ‘i love you’ back yet.”

“oh, i haven’t?” you wince innocently. “sorry. i love you.”

but he should be the one apologizing to you, since it’s his fault that you still can’t think straight, or walk for that matter.

you pat around the mattress behind his back until you stumble upon the camera, and it’s jungkook’s turn to be your beloved muse. you scoot away until the lens manage to capture him down to his shirtless abdomen. you watch him in complete awe behind the viewfinder. he squints at you, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously, and he smirks when you chuckle in amusement.

“ah wait- take this! take this! you have to take a good one, got it? i worked so hard on them yesterday!” he eagerly voices out a special demand.

he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook.

your boyfriend is outrageously, ridiculously sexy— he’s still wearing that stupid black headband he hastily put on in the middle of sex because he got pissed off at his hair and he needed it out of the way so he could ‘properly see his love’s beautiful body.’

you roll your eyes inside your head.

what a fucking tease.

nonetheless, you acquiesce.

the flash goes off.

and another polaroid is crafted into existence that you selfishly want to keep for your eyes only.

“baby, let me see.”

“it’s mine!” you scrunch your nose with a childlike charm, hiding the polaroid behind your back.

he chuckles, hopelessly endeared by you.

“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response.

and your unguarded heart is once again swept away by the taste of his tongue. the camera becomes an abandoned item. your fingers daintily pushes off his headband in favor of freely tangling them with his silky hair, and it also ends up getting lost somewhere in the sheets as his sweet kisses lull you in a false sense of security… because out of nowhere, that same blazing light burns through your closed eyes for the second time tonight.

jungkook playfully waves the polaroid infront of your face, and his toothy grin is met by your unimpressed expression.

“this is mine!”

he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all.

“just how many pictures of you kissing me do you need?” you ask him lightheartedly.

he juts out his bottom lip sullenly, and a few beats pass before he forms an answer. “i always need more for when i miss you.”

you copy his frown. “then what about me when i’m missing you too?”

“hmmm… i want you to always remember me like this, baby.” he melodramatically declares as he picks up the one and only polaroid you’ve taken of him tonight. “can you see my abs too…? oh- it’s not showing yet.”

he looks back at you shyly with a laugh, and he places it back down to let it continue developing.

“i’ll look later. i can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. ‘m so tired.” you sadly sniffle to gain his pity, fluttering your damp eyelashes at him. “let’s go to sleep, please?”

jungkook doesn’t find it in himself to articulate a consolation or protest, not when you’re tugging him down to coax him into laying his head on your chest.

“heaven.” he moans, overcome by contentment.

he adjusts himself a bit to be more comfortable before dragging the comforter further upwards to provide warmth for the two of you, all the while refusing to remove his face nuzzled up against you.

“why are you always like this? can you even breathe?” you chuckle with your eyes closed.

“i love your boobs.” his honest reply comes out muffled, cute for some reason, along with his satisfied hums prompted by your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

“i know.”

he turns his head to the side to look up at you, and he carries on to speak with his cheek squished against you. “i really, really mean it.”

“yes, baby. i believe you.”

a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up.

but then you feel sloppy kisses being deliberately scattered in the middle of your chest, leading down to your stomach, and you get rudely knocked over into the cold, clear waters.

yes, plea- oh no, no, no, no.

“jungkook, baby, stop. i can’t go another round.” you whine pathetically, being driven closer to the urge to burst into tears.

“AH! o-ow- ouch- baby, wha- i swear, i wasn’t even planning on it!” he loudly exclaims in surprise when you harshly pull him away by his hair.

“still…” your voice cracks. “you know i’ll get turned on!”

his chuckles are infuriatingly raspy and of no help at all, ego inflating upon hearing your response and the frustration obviously laced with it.

“okay, okay! i’m sorry! i’ll behave now!”

thank god.

he assumes his previous position, the place that he deems to be the warmest and the coziest. as he wraps his arms around your waist, your fist relaxes into an open palm that cradles the back of his head.

“____?” he mumbles, finally feeling the tiredness seep into his sore muscles now that he’s lying motionless.

“hmm?”

“let’s eat dinner outside after work.”

“…meat?”

“and beer!” he adds, brimming with excitement, and he salivates as he can almost taste them in his mouth already. they are his favorite, after all.

“i’ll come pick you up then.” you drop a kiss on his forehead, and he sighs happily. “but go to sleep or else i’ll kick you out of the bedroom again.”

his sweet embrace becomes an iron grip.

cold and alone, he swears those were some of the worst three hours of his life.

he squeaks in defeat. “goodnight, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[hysteria-things]

MATT'S STREAM

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris’ relationship isn’t out to the public just yet. when he’s on stream with matt, you tease him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, dry humping, cock warming, degradation if you squint, p in v, semi-public (?)

ASSUME YOU'RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,521

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hiii i’m excited for this. let’s see how this goes :)

chris sits at his desk, spam clicking and smashing buttons on his keyboard. he talks to his brothers in his headset.

matt’s streaming on twitch right now, meaning that thousands of fans are watching the three of them play fortnite. you’ve been with chris for a few months, yet the fans have no idea. you both collectively agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye.

hence why you are seated next to him out of frame, watching the stream go down. your eyes scan to his side profile. his brows furrow in concentration, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on the computer screen. you hear the boys scream in his headset, and he slams his hands onto his lap.

“damn.” he grunts out, glancing over at you for a moment and smiling.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” he says into the mic before muting it and taking off his headset. he turns his face cam off and goes into the bathroom to do his business.

he comes out beats later, sitting back in the gaming chair, wiggling to get comfortable. you get up, which gains his attention. “you doing okay?” he asks.

“yeah. just need to stretch.”

before he could unmute his mic and turn the cam back on, you push the chair back slightly to have enough space to straddle his lap. he wraps his arms around your waist and welcomes you closer, kissing your collarbone. “they’re going to think i’m shitting.” he says jokingly.

your arms snake around his neck and you lean back to look at him. “say your camera broke.”

he smirks and puts back on his headset. “i’m back.” he starts. “for some reason, my camera is acting weird.”

“it’s all good. as long as we can still hear you.” matt’s voice replies.

the thin fabric you call panties rubs against his bulge through his red plaid pajama pants. you have a shirt on, one of chris’s FRESH LOVE t-shirts that covers you enough to look like a nightgown. a sensation tingles between your legs, and you start to move your hips slowly.

you hear chris groan, pressing a button on his keyboard. “what are you doing?” he asks sternly.

“i need to get comfortable.” you tease, rocking your hips harder. he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and clicks unmute again.

you rest your head in the crook of his neck and continue to rock your hips, feeling him grow beneath you. he still talks to his brothers normally, but his performance on the game doesn’t look good.

“what the fuck is up with you, chris?” nick questions into the headphones.

“sorry,” he mumbles.

your hands find their way to the back of his neck and tug at his hair lightly. you breathe heavily to not make any noise since his mic is right next to your head. you don’t even notice your hips rutting and body tensing when you feel your release soak your underwear.

you exhale shakily, lifting your body and looking at the mess you made. there’s a wet stain on his pants on top of his hard-on. you don’t even have to look to know your underwear is ruined.

chris looks at you confused, before following your gaze. you go to get up but he grabs your hips and places you back to where you’re hovering over him. he unties his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. he moves the mic away from his mouth, leaning toward your ear.

“don’t move or make a fucking sound,” he warns in a low tone you could barely hear.

he pushes your panties to the side and guides you down onto his cock, fighting off the hissing noise trying to escape your lips as he stretches you out tenderly and slowly. you and chris started having sex not long ago, but even after a few days without it, you had to readjust again.

this, however, is a first.

you guys never tried cock warming before. you felt so nervous. so excited. so full.

after multiple rounds of fortnite that felt like it lasted hours, your brain felt fuzzy despite not even doing anything. every time he talked, laughed, or celebrated a victory or loss, he’d thrust deep inside of you. and it drove you nuts.

you hear commotion on the other end of the headset. “fuck!” chris screams, jolting his hips further into you than at any other time. your eyes roll ever so slightly, mouth agape as your bottom lip grazes over his bare shoulder. it’s too late to take back the moan that came out of you.

chris’ hands make their way to your ass and squeeze hard, setting a reminder.

be quiet. right.

your patience becomes thinner and thinner, since it’s already been about thirty minutes. too desperate, you start to grind against him.

before he can do or say anything, you grab his mic and fist your hand over it so nobody can hear.

“please let me ride you. i promise i’ll be quiet.” you beg.

“so needy.” he sighs, taking your hand off of the mic and returning to the game.

rutting your hips forward, you start bouncing, your clit swollen from sitting still for so long without doing anything about it. you don’t know, but you could’ve sworn you heard chris groan.

too busy focusing to try to not make a sound by biting your lip, you hear sentences being scattered around from the boys.

“i don’t know, man.”

“this game sucks!”

“is your camera working yet?”

“no, sorry!”

little do they know, here you are, fucking yourself on your boyfriend’s dick like a bitch in heat.

you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss a spot before biting down to stifle your pathetic sounds. chris hisses at the sudden contact and misses a kill, the other person killing him instead, costing them to lose.

“for fuck sake. chris, are you sure you’re okay?” matt asks in annoyance.

the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot unexpectedly, forcing a whine out of you. “actually.” chris starts. “i don’t feel good, to be honest. i might log off for tonight.”

he quickly ends the discord call and shuts down his computer, stopping your movements. you look at him with glassy eyes, a frown portraying your face. he runs a finger up your spine before gripping onto your hair and yanking it, making you whimper. “first, you ruin my pants.”

he thrusts himself up into you, taking you by surprise with a gasp.

“then, you tease me.”

another thrust.

“now, you can’t follow simple fucking instructions.”

again.

a broken moan comes out of you, chris slapping your ass. “need me to fuck you so bad you can’t even wait two hours. instead, you get off by fucking yourself on my dick like your life depends on it. so pathetic.”

you whine of embarrassment, yet you don’t want this to stop.

“please.” you breathe out. “i’m sorry. please fuck me.”

with that, chris grabs your thigh with his free hand and starts plunging into you from below. his grip is still tight on your hair. you let out breathy moans left and right since each thrust takes the air out of your lungs. your eyes start prickling with tears from all of the built-up pleasure. “oh my— fucking— jesus— god.”

chris chuckles at your failed attempt to form a sentence. your moans transition into high-pitched squeals when he hits the angle that makes a knot form in your stomach. he releases his grip from your hair and moves it to your jaw, his hand that was on your thigh coming up to your mouth. he shoves in his middle and ring finger for you to suck on.

god, this felt good, and boy was it hot.

drool starts dribbling down your chin as you moan around his fingers and your eyes roll back. chris twitches inside you causing him to groan and take out his fingers, but your mouth still hangs open as unholy sounds come out of it. he releases your jaw and cups your ass with both hands.

“holy shit.” you whine. “i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, y/n. fuck you’re doing so good for me.”

because you certainly don’t have to be told twice, your whole body trembles and you fall forward. your hands cup the sides of his neck.

“i love you.” you moan into his neck as he continues thrusting to get to his release. “i love you so fucking much— jesus god.” you cry out when you feel chris filling you up.

he thrusts a few more times into your trembling body to get down from his high.

“look at me.” he says softly, bringing your head up to make eye contact. he smiles and kisses your lips. “i love you too, ma.”

when you come back to your senses you lift yourself off of him and stumble to his bed to sit down. chris pulls up his boxers and checks his phone that’s been blowing up on the desk in front of him.

[mrkis]

raw. (m.l)

PAIRING: mark lee x afab!reader GENRE: smut WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SYNOPSIS: you find out you're out of condoms as soon as you and mark are about to have sex. feeling defeated, mark opts to go relieve himself in the bathroom but you suggest maybe that its time for him to finally fuck you raw.

CONTENT WARNINGS: explicit content, established relationship, light touching, starts off with sweet!mark then switches to pussy drunk!mark, unprotected sex, creampie, heavy use of 'my girl' and 'baby', nasty dirty talk mark doesn't shut the fuck up,

“I’ve missed you.” Mark mouths at your skin, arms tight around your middle as he presses you against his chest, breathing in the scent of your body wash and perfume as he nuzzles his head into the crevice of your neck. You smile, lacing your fingers through his hair as you melt into his embrace and he hums at the soft tugs you give, suckling and nipping at the spot where your shoulder and neck meet.

“Ow,” A giggle leaves your lips as Mark bites down a little too hard and your body angles away from him, only for him to whine and try and draw your back to him, muttering an apology against your neck as he tightens his hold on you. “We can’t stand here all day, Mark.”

Mark huffs as if what you’ve stated is something so offensive it hurts his feelings, shoulders sagging as he reluctantly lets you go but his hand slips into your own, intertwining your fingers as he allows you to pull him to a more suitable place than your front door, dragging his socked covered feet across the floorboards as he takes in your home, a warmth spreading through his chest.

Mark missed being at your place, the sweet familiar smell of a candle that was previously burning filling his senses, the hum of the TV playing your favourite show in the background, the subtle misplaced ornaments and potted plants that you’ve picked up to move or admire.

He takes a glance at your kitchen as he passes it, noticing a dish and a bowl soaking in soapy water and he smiles knowing you’ve eaten already, wondering if it was something delicious and filling for you. He wants to ask what it could’ve been, but the question remains on the tip of his tongue as you’re pulling him towards your bedroom.

And that’s when he feels most at home. 

The bag that was once resting on his shoulders drops to the ground, mindlessly being kicked to the side as his body finally relaxes, the tiredness that he’s used to pushing at the back of his mind comes front and centre, sluggishly making his way towards the unmade bed and planting himself down on the edge. 

The hand that's holding yours pulls you between his open legs and he rests his cheek on your stomach, embracing you as he once did a few moments prior and he sighs happily as your fingers resume playing with his hair. 

“How was work?”

“Fine,” His tone is quiet and gentle. “Japan was fun. Yuta was our tour guide again and was taking us to all these places,” Mark moves his head a little to look up at you, resting his chin on your stomach inside. “I took some pictures for you—ones I haven’t sent you yet.” 

You’re more than eager to see what pictures Mark wants to show you, gently pushing him up the bed for him to lay comfortably and he laughs, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone while his other arm curls around you, holding you close to his side and pressing his lips to the top of your head, finding comfort in the scent of your shampoo as he unlocks his phone, clicking the camera roll app and your eyes widen in excitement seeing all the recent photos you haven’t seen.

You’re in awe watching him scroll through the photos, the scenery and the colours of it all leaving you speechless, hanging onto every word as he tells you the story behind them all, some comical and others sweet and endearing. 

“Seeing this one, like, reminded me of you.” He whispers against your head as he shows you a picture of a sunset, a blend of pinks and oranges making your heart flutter. “It’s pretty—calming, made me feel at ease. It made me miss you even more than I already did, you know.”

“You called me every night,” You tell him, laughing as he groans and rolls his eyes, throwing his phone to the side before gripping your hips, pulling your body on top of his and massaging your thighs with his fingers, kneading the skin as they settle on each of his sides. 

“You know it’s not the same,” Mark argues, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “I love hearing your voice over the phone but, like, having you there with me physically means more to me. I get to hold you, I get to touch you… I get to kiss my girl.”

“Is that so?”

Mark hums with a short nod of his head before he cranes his neck up to meet your lips in a short but sweet kiss, squeezing your thighs once you reciprocate and he smiles against your lips as he feels your hands cradle his cheeks.

Then, you feel it. His hard cock pressing your inner thigh, twitching with each subtle movement of your hips as you rest your entire weight on him, causing him to grunt against your lips due to the pressure on his cock. 

“Are you tired?” You pull away from his lips to ask him and you bite back the smile that threatens to spread across your cheeks as Mark follows, wanting your mouth back on his. 

“A little,” He admits, squeezing your thighs. “But I don’t care. Just want you.”

Warmth fills your chest, “You want me?”

“So bad.” 

You don’t have time to swoon over his words as he’s already leaning up and reconnecting your lips in a much deeper kiss, biting down on your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth to tangle with your own all while his hands slip around to grip your ass, pulling you ever closer so that your chest is pressed against his. 

You kiss for a while, relishing in the way his lips feel on yours, familiar with the slow and unrushed pace he takes and your hands curl around the front of his shirt, signalling for him to take it off immediately and he smiles against your mouth, breaking the kiss for a moment to allow you to pull the material over his head.

He’s giving you a toothy smile, eyes twinkling with adoration as he stares up at you and his fingers twitch over the hem of your shirt, ready to take it off and you happily give him permission to do so, raising your arms in the air and Mark tugs it off, throwing it carelessly to the side before his hands touch your skin, palms hot and clammy as he brings you in for another kiss, one that's more desperate and needy.

Mark’s moaning shamelessly into your mouth when your hands dip beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, first curling around his cock and giving him a few experimental pumps that has him almost drawing blood on your lip when he bites down a little too hard.

“Easy,” You hum with a giggle and Mark groans, craning his neck as he throws his head back against the pillows, tongue licking his bottom lip as your hand squeezes around his cock. He lifts his hips as you begin to rid him of the rest of his clothing and you awkwardly manoeuvre above him, laughing as you almost topple over if it wasn’t for the hold he has on your hips.

“You go easy,” Mark teases you this time and you roll your eyes. You drop your hands from him to finally peel off the rest of your own clothes and he watches you with hooded lids, resting one arm behind his head while the other wraps around his cock to jerk himself off as he takes in your naked body, something he’s seen plenty of times before but he views it as if it's his first time, absorbing himself in your curves, the swell of your breasts and your pretty pussy.

“Like what you see?”

Mark smiles, “Always,”

You get a little shy at his compliment but continue to lean forwards to capture his lips in a kiss which he immediately reciprocates, his hand curls around the back of your neck to keep you still against his lips and he moans as your tongue slips inside his mouth to touch his own.

He’s still touching himself between your bodies, lifts jerking upwards into his fist and gasping in your mouth when the tip grazes over your skin, the sensitivity sending goosebumps down his spine.

You pull away from his lips much to his dismay and he tries to pull you back in but stops when he sees you manoeuvring your way down his body, leaving a trail of kisses behind which makes him moan again, mouth falling slack as he feels your tongue lick a clean stripe down his navel.

You brush your fingers over his inner thighs, smiling at how his cock twitches against his stomach, stroking further and further up his skin before your fingers grip his cock, hearing the slight hiss he makes through his teeth and you smile, leaning in closer to wrap your lips around his tip.

“Wait!” Mark suddenly yells out and you stop in surprise, bringing your gaze up from his cock to his face and he reaches his hand forward to cradle your check, his thumb caressing your skin. He looks like he’s in pain, but he explains, “I’ll cum too quickly if you suck my cock, like, seriously, I will cum the second I feel your tongue on me again.”

That makes you even more eager to shove his cock down your throat and you tighten your fingers around the base, causing him to throw his head back with a gasp, “I don’t mind.”

“But I do,” Mark weakly pushes your hand away and his cock slaps back against his stomach, his hips jerking upwards at the sudden contact. “Fuck—baby I’ve been waiting for this for so long. I want to cum fucking you—please, I—” He winces as his hand comes down to cup his balls, almost as if he’s trying to stop himself from cumming right there and there from his words. “I want to fuck you.”

You would awe at the sight if it wasn’t for the way he’s looking at you right now, so desperate and needy to be inside of you and you’re more than welcome to give him exactly what he wants, briefly nodding your head for confirmation and his shoulders drop with a relieved sigh.

Mark gently pushes you down on the bed to crawl above you, kneeling between your parted thighs and he almost drools at the sight of your pussy, glistening and ready for him to fuck. He’s quick to lean over to open the drawers of your nightstand, digging his hand inside to search around for the box of condoms he knows you have for him.

He pulls out the box and he leans back on his ankles as he dips his hand inside, and you wait patiently for him to retrieve it and roll it onto his cock, but the way his body freezes and face drops you know something is wrong and you grow concerned, leaning up on your elbows.

“Mark?”

“No, no, no,” Mark mumbles repeatedly under his breath as he turns the box upside down and shakes aggressively, praying that a condom will magically appear out of thin air and lay across the palm of his hand but it remains empty. “Jesus Christ, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

You gape at him in shock, “There’s no condoms left?”

“There’s no condoms left,” He repeats, throwing the empty box down on the bed and he runs his hand over his face in annoyance, tears of frustration prickling at his eyes. You watch as he brows pull together, how his jaw clenches and nostrils flare in anger. It was a sight you’re definitely not used to seeing, but it’s something that has your thighs clenching for some friction below. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” You try to reassure him as his cheeks get a little red and you reach up to stroke his shoulders. “We must’ve used the last one before you left to go to Japan without knowing.”

“I should’ve been prepared, you know, I should’ve bought a pack before coming here—I shouldn’t have relied on you to have the condoms but, fuck, I was just so exciting to see my girl that I didn’t even think about—”

“Baby, it’s okay.” You try to cut off his rambling by reassuring him again but it's no use.

“—And now we have nothing and I’m just—” His hands wave over his hard cock comically and you hold back a snort, watching how his fingers run through his hair with a sigh. “Okay, I should just, like, make you cum on my tongue and then I’m going to go jerk off in the—”

“No!” You shout this time, startling Mark who stares at you with wide eyes and you immediately apologise, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby. But you don’t need to do that, it’s okay.”

“Then what are we going to do?” He questions with a whiny tone that has your head reeling and pussy begging to be fucked. The way he’s staring at you so desperately and in pain is enough for you to come up with an idea.

“How about we just do it raw this time?”

Mark blinks, “Raw? Like, without a condom?”

“Yes.”

“Baby…” Mark sighs softly as he rubs at your thighs, “You know we can’t do that. We can’t risk anything, you know, and even though I’m certain I’m going to spend the rest of my life with my girl and start a family… we really can’t risk anything. It’s too soon and we’re both not ready for that either.”

You frown, “I know that. But nothing will happen, I promise. I’m on the pill.”

“What?”

“I’ve been on the pill for a few months,” You tell him nonchalantly and he looks at you as if you kept such a big secret away from him. “Remember that night when the condom broke and we panicked?” Mark nods his head quickly, “I went on the pill the day after that. I didn’t want us to have another scare or anything.”

“You’ve been on the pill for five months?” Mark asks you and you hum, confirming its true and he gapes in shock, dropping his gaze down to your pussy in disbelief. “So we could’ve done this five months ago?”

You struggle to hold back a laugh this time, the sound stifled by your lips. “Yes.”

“So, I can just…” Mark trails off as he shuffles forward, the tip of his cock brushing over your folds and you gasp as he flicks over your clit, thighs clamping around his hips. “I can just slide right in, feel you, fill you up.” He’s mumbling now, some words incoherent while others are clear as day, his lewdness making your face hot as his cock nudges your opening, almost teasing you by not fucking you immediately and you bite back the urge to tell him to hurry it up.

back the urge to tell him to hurry it up.

You suck in a deep breath as Mark finally pushes into you and his eyes grow wide, mouth slack as he feels the warmth of your walls fit snugly around his cock. He’s frozen above you, cock pulsing as he feels you bare for the first time and his eyes flick to yours, and his gaze suddenly darkens, his fingers pressing against the meat of your waist. 

You go to call out his name, to ask him if he’s alright but a surprised yelp flees past your lips as his hips snap forwards, burying himself deep inside of your pussy and your arms fling around his shoulders, gripping him tightly as he pants above you.

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Mark grunts under his breath, fucking himself into you deeper and you wail, thighs clamping around his waist. “Feels so tight. All for me, yeah? Just for me. So fucking good. My pretty girl and her perfect pussy.”

“Mark.” You try to speak, stuttering over your words with each thrust, the bed creaking beneath your bodies, headboard hitting against the wall but you could care less about the noise, too surprised to see the sudden change in your boyfriend. 

His tone and his words are enough to have you gaping at him, broken moans ripping through your throat at how nasty he sounds, how he uncontrollably mutters how good your cunt feels wrapped around his cock and how wet you are for him. 

You’re not used to this. You’re used to the sweet talk, the light feathery kisses he leaves on your skin, words of sweet praises and gentle whispers of ‘i love yous’. 

You’re not complaining though. Never. 

Seeing Mark switch up just from fucking you raw for the first time has your mind spinning and electricity buzzing down your spine, fingernails digging further into his shoulder blades and clamping around him tightly, cursing him to curse.

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby. Tight little cunt squeezing me in so good,” Mark whispers in your ear, almost sounding like he’s whining. “My girl. My fucking girl.”

“Please,” You beg, even though you have no idea what you’re begging for. “Please, please, please.”

“Gonna fill you up, fuck you full of my cum,” Mark slurs his words, his pace quickening as his cock drills into you, his hands gripping your waist tighter when he hears you moan prettily for him. “You want that? Hm? Want me to fill you up? Fuck this cunt full?”

“Yes,” You pant heavily, tightening your legs around his hips, desperate for him to cum, to feel him deep inside. “Please.”

“Sounds so pretty when my baby begs for me,” Mark hums as he leans in to kiss your lips but he pulls away much too quickly for your liking, not allowing you to enjoy it. But you gasp when you feel his hand slide between your bodies, thumb rubbing your clit. “Gonna cum for me like I’m gonna cum for you, yeah? Want to see my girl cum for me before I fuck her pussy full.”

You’re already letting yourself go just from his words alone, your orgasm crashing over your like an aggressive wave and you body seizes up, almost sobbing from sensitivity as he fucks you through it, thumbing at your clit without any signs of stopping.

Your pussy contracts around his cock, sucking him in deeper, hugging around him tightly which causing his hips to stutter their movements, a grunt slipping past his lips before he leans back, hands sliding down your waist to grip your thighs, keeping you locked against him as he watches you squeeze around his cock, desperate to be filled.

“Good girl. Keep doing that for me. Feels so good, baby.” Mark’s moaning under his breath, airy moans turning into whines as he feels your walls tighten around him, too overwhelmed by the feeling that he stills, a throating groan leaving his lips as he cums, filling you up just as planned.

Mark’s breathing heavily, mesmerised with the way he’s emptying himself inside you, watching his cock twitch with his spurt of cum that paints your walls. He doesn’t pull away until he’s certain there’s nothing left to give, wincing out of sensitivity as he slowly leans back to pull out of you, his spent cock bobbing against his thigh.

“What was that?” You breathe out, leaning up on your elbows as you look at him. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know,” Mark mumbles, cheeks blossoming a bright red as he refuses to meet your gaze, that shy and sweet persona falling back into place. But he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your pussy, mouth open wide as his fingers delicately stroke over your puffy folds. “Was… was I too much?”

“No,” You quickly shake your head, reassuring him. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” Mark hums, finally meeting your gaze and you smile at him, nodding your head this time and he sheepishly grins back, staring down at his fingers that circle around your entrance that leaks with his cum and he makes the sudden decision to push it back in, causing you to gasp and whine softly. “Sorry… I don’t want anything to go to waste.”

You laugh lightly at his words, “Go to waste?”

“Mhm,” Mark nods, retracting his fingers and staring at the cum that covers his digits, the dark expression taking over once again as he looks right at you, “I’m never wearing a condom again, you know that right, baby?”

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

[vanteguccir]

Lovestruck boy | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Nick and Chris are trying to record wednesday's video, but Matt's lovestruck gaze keeps going to Y/N, distracting himself.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, from anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Matt! Hellooo, is anyone there?" Nick spoke from behind the camera while moving his arms around exasperatedly, looking at his brother, who had his eyes focused on the couch in the back of the room.

Matt is the kind of guy that when he loves, he loves hard.

So to say that Matt was crazy about Y/N was an understatement, all that was on his mind day and night was his girlfriend; His days were happier with her by his side, he felt like he had more energy and strength to do anything, only because of her.

His favorite thing in the world was seeing her happy, so his heart warmed every time he heard her talking about the books she was reading with so much passion and affection - so much so that he lost count of how many times he took her to the bookstore and bought more than 100 dollars in books, just to be able to hear her talk about the characters that Matt never memorized the names of and the story that always made she speak too quickly and with so much devotion.

Whenever Matt was with his brothers or friends, he would mention his girl. It was automatic, everything reminded him of her. He was obsessed. With all that said, it was inevitable that, being in the same room, the boy wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her.

The theme of that Wednesday's video was something suggested by Y/N herself, as just a few minutes ago the four of them were lying on the sofa in the living room, the girl with her feet on Matt's lap while starting a new book, while the brothers watched old videos of themselves on television.

His hands caressed the tops of her feet covered in fluffy Iron Man socks, which she had probably stolen from his side of the drawer. Every now and then Matt's right hand would go up her legs to Y/N's left hand, taking it away from the book and to his mouth, sealing the warm, soft skin with love, keeping his eyes on the TV screen.

A smile grew on Matt's face every time his brothers made vomiting sounds, calling them disgusting. While Y/N felt like her cheeks could explode from how red they became.

Matt's teenage voice coming from the videos made Y/N's heart warm, and seeing the silly smiles on the triplets' faces as they traveled through the land of nostalgia made an idea pop into the girl's head, who instantly put down the book and paused the video, catching the attention of them.

And this takes us to the current moment, after Y/N has separated some pictures from when they were children, teenagers or nowadays on Nick's phone, having created an album to be used in that specific video.

Matt and Chris were sitting at the kitchen table, facing the camera, Nick - who was standing behind it with the album open on his phone -, and consequently also facing the sofa, where Y/N was sitting comfortably as she flipped through her book, a smile appearing every now and then on her face as her expressions changed according to the events in the story.

A cup of cappuccino that Matt made for her rested on her legs, keeping her warm, while her right hand came out of the book every now and then and picked up the drink, taking a sip.

It was the third time that Nick caught Matt's attention, who seemed to get lost in his girlfriend's figure, and all external sounds, including his brothers' voices, became muffled.

To disguise it, the boy would randomly guess the name of one of his brothers or himself when Nick showed a small part of a picture, getting it wrong almost every time. This led to him having the lowest score.

"What? Yes, that's Chris." Matt blinked his eyes quickly, looking away from Y/N and to the phone in Nick's hands.

"Matt, it's you!" Nick exclaimed, rolling his eyes and sighing, he knew the video would continue like this if he didn't get Y/N out of the room, but his best friend looked too comfortable on the couch.

"Pay attention, dumbass." Chris slammed the palm of his left hand against Matt's forehead, earning a slap back on the arm.

Y/N lifted her head from the book momentarily, holding back a laugh as she saw the brothers fighting, rolling her eyes playfully before returning her attention to the story, adjusting her position on the couch.

"I'm sorry, I'll pay attention. I promise." Matt raised his hands in surrender, swallowing hard as he glanced briefly at Y/N and saw her laughing softly, returning his eyes to his older brother and forcing himself to keep them there.

"For those of you who aren't understanding, Y/N is sitting on the couch reading, and Matt can't stop looking at her. He's obsessed, I swear." Nick muttered behind the camera, shaking his head even though they couldn't see him.

When the first round ended, Chris got up and took Nick's place behind the camera, agreeing to be the next to show the pictures and be the jury.

Nick handed him the phone and sat down next to Matt, looking briefly at the couch and closing his lips in a thin line at Y/N's wide eyes at the book, probably surprised by some absurd scene.

The oldest looked at Matt, seeing that his brother was already looking at Y/N, too. Their eyes quickly met when Matt felt Nick looking at him, a laugh escaping both of their mouths.

"Are you ready?" Chris asked after choosing the first picture he would use, receiving a nod from the two brothers, who had both arms on the table so they could reach the "button" faster.

The youngest zoomed in on the pic and turned the screen towards the two, waiting for one of them to get it right.

Matt had never moved so fast, his left hand slamming against the post-it too hard as his eyes were wide in euphoria.

"It's me! Look at Y/N's hand there." Matt shouted in excitement, raising his right hand and pointing at the phone behind the camera.

"Yeah, that's Matt." Nick sighed, knowing that even though he got it right too, Matt spoke first. "You only got it right because Y/N is in the picture!"

"Obviously, he knows Y/N's traits more than he knows his own." Chris scoffed from behind the camera, zooming out of the image and looking for the next one.

The picture in question was from a day when the four of them went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant about a year ago, Nick and Chris were sitting on one side of the table and Y/N and Matt on the other. Matt had his elbows resting on the wooden table and his hands crossed, laughter escaping his lips when he heard something Chris said, while Y/N joined him in laughing, her hands crossed around his right bicep and her head resting on his covered shoulder.

The pic was taken by Nick, being the passionate photographer that he was, and Chris felt a smile stretch across his face as he remembered the moment.

Even though they made fun of their brother so much for being a crazy in love for Y/N, they felt their chest fill with joy for their brother every time they saw them together. They knew that their brother had found his other half, and seeing him as happy as ever made them just as happy.

"I know, he's obsessed with her." Nick commented again, receiving a slap on the back of his head, letting out a laugh when he saw Matt roll his eyes, but don't deny anything.

The girl looked up again when she heard her name being said by one of the boys and her person being mentioned more than once. Her eyes met Matt's blue ones, who looked at her with love and affection, an easy smile appearing on his face almost automatically.

Y/N smiled back, blowing a kiss, which the boy pretended to catch with his left hand and keep in the pocket of his hoodie.

When the round changed again, it was Matt's turn to stand behind the camera and choose the pictures.

The boy got up from his seat, fixing his pants and walking over to where Chris was, taking the phone from his hand and closing the last picture chosen by the youngest.

His thumb scrolled across the screen, looking for the first one he would use as he let his brothers settle down.

A smile stretched across Matt's face as he passed by a picture of Nick and Y/N, where they were both wearing sunglasses, with feathers around their necks and making faces at the camera. Nick had his left hand raised showing a peace sign, and it was there that Matt decided to zoom in, but not before lingering his eyes for a few seconds on the full image, admiring his girlfriend there.

Matt took advantage of the fact that his brothers were in a silly argument and turned around momentarily, looking at his girl, who was now in a position that in his head was probably very uncomfortable, but he already knew that for Y/N, the most different positions were the best.

The girl felt eyes on her and looked up, seeing Matt standing there admiring her. A reddish color took over her cheeks, and her fingers played with the pages of the book, trying to hide her shyness.

Matt nodded briefly at the book as if asking her how the story was going. Y/N smiled at the action, making a chief kiss gesture with her right hand while her left held the book open, afraid of losing the page she stopped at.

"I want to hear all abo-" Matt began in a low voice, just for Y/N to hear, but his sentence was cut by a hand hitting the table.

"I'm going to get Y/N out of the room if you don't turn around now and do your job." Nick said, crossing his arms. Chris held back his laughter beside him, his face turning red from the force he exerted in the action.

"You're so unnecessary." Matt rolled his eyes, throwing a wink at Y/N, who had a goofy smile, before turning to face his brothers again.

"No, you are." Nick responded, opening his mouth to argue against Matt again, only to be stopped by Chris, who smacked his left arm while laughing.

"Go ahead, Matt." The youngest asked, straightening up and clearing his throat, looking at his brother as he waited for the first picture.

Nick sent a bored look to Y/N, who was still watching them intently. The girl laughed softly, turning her attention back to the book as she felt her heart warm.

Y/N felt so grateful for her boyfriend and his brothers, who she saw as family. She would never forget the day Nick thanked her for how happy she made his brother, but little did he know, it was Matt who made her the happiest.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"Matt looking behind the camera every 2 minutes with a lovestruck look on his face was the cutest thing I've ever seen 😔"

"Matt being able to guess the picture that had Y/N in it just because of her 😭"

"I love how Nick and Chris make fun of Matt for his love for Y/N all the time"

~ "deep down, they love them together more than the couple itself lol"

"I want to have a boyfriend who is as obsessed with me as Matt is with Y/N ​​🧎‍♀️"

"Y/N is a total bookworm, and I'm here for it!"

~ "petition for her to make tiktoks about the books she reads ✏️📄"

"it's incredible to see the difference between Matt before Y/N and Matt during Y/N. She's so good for him 🥺"

"Matt smiles so much when Y/N is near 😫"

"Matt and Y/N >>>>>>> any other famous couple"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

[makkir0ll]

"you have really long eyelashes"

it catches him off guard. you guys are just laying in your bed scrolling on your own phones. he didn't even feel you staring at him. how long have you been looking?

"thanks?" he replies

"no i mean seriously like drop the lash serum." you joke at him as you continue to observe him.

they're long and thick. the kind of lashes that have a natural curl, unlike yours, that fall straight down and take several minutes to curl to your perfect liking. not to mention the layers of mascara you apply to get them to even remotely look like his.

he turns his head to you and you don't miss his dilated pupils as his eyes bore into yours. you take note of how the lashes perfectly frame his eyes. and you're so jealous.

but then an idea pops into your head, you smile to yourself and he senses it coming.

"can i-"

"no" he cuts you off.

"babe please you don't even know what i was about to say!" you grab onto his shoulder as you plead.

"whatever it is im sure it's going to be bad." he retorts, turning his face away from you and going back on his phone.

"i'll buy you you're favorite food."

and that's how you end up here on his lap with your mascara in your hand. his hair is pushed back as his hands rest on your hips, drawing small circles as he awaits your actions.

you open the bottle with the black liquid and bring the wand close to his eyes. "don't move" you whisper and he listens. mainly because he's scared that you're going to poke his eye out as you bring the wand to the base of his eyelashes and wiggle it slowly before moving it up to coat the length of the lashes. some of the mascara gets on his eyelids. you repeat the actions on the other eye before going back and doing a second coat. you can tell that he might be slightly nervous that you're going to blind him with the way he holds his breath and the grip he has on your hips get ever so slightly tighter.

you move yourself off his lap and he goes to grab his phone so he can see what he looks like.

"wait no not yet, i'm still not done" you say as you go and grab ur q-tips and micellar water.

"still?"

"yes still, i need to clean up the mascara on your eyelids," you say as you place yourself back on his lap. you open the bottle of micellar water and carefully put the clear liquid on the q-tip. you bring the white stick of cotton to his eyes and you tell him to close them. he feels the wet cotton and it's a weird feeling. you watch the q-tip turn darker the more mascara you wipe off.

"okay i'm done!" you say and he opens his eyes and you don't think he's ever looked more majestic. his already long lashes looking even longer and bolder now that he has the mascara to bring them out. you notice that the color of his eyes pop more. "you look so pretty" you smile as lean in to pepper kisses along his face. his cheeks feel warm and he can already tell that they're probably red.

he reaches over to his phone and opens the camera app and switches the camera so he can see himself. and he immediatly notices the stark difference in his eyes with the mascara. he brings his fingers to his lashes to touch them. it feels weird and his eyes kind of feel weighed down. but he has no regrets when he sees you smiling at him so fondly.

"they look nice." he smiles at you, dropping his phone to the side.

"i know right, ugh im so jealous i wish i had your lashes. all my problems would be solved." you say, thinking about the long and excruciating lash routine you perform every morning.

"all of them?"

"yes, all of them."

he chuckles at your words. "alright, but can you take it off now, it feels weird." he says, hands coming to touch his lashes again. you pout as you grab the micellar water you put away and a cotton pad and remove the mascara from his eyelashes, being gentle so that he doesn't lose a few. he appreciates the action. and maybe he would let you put more than just mascara on his face another day.

KAGEYAMA (has the best lashes argue with the wall), suna, tsukishima (genuinely terrified that you're going to make him go blind), OSAMU, kuroo, MATSUKAWA MY LOVE, iwaizumi, OIKAWA (he would eat that shit up), akaashi, kenma, +ur fav.

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 

He smiles. 

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 

God, he’s gorgeous. 

You hate him. 

You’ve missed him. 

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can. 

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions. 

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for my sixteenth birthday because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 

“I know,” he murmurs. 

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

[chlorinecake]

Hey I had a request can you do one reaction thingy for enhypen (excluding Niki as he's a minor)

So the reaction is "Your boyfriend (the member) is fucking you or just are getting intimate (oral or are kissing while being naked etc.) and another member enters and sees you and gets a boner . Here you can add few things either they get jealous or they ask the person to join or just watch.

Sorry if it's too precise or uncomfortable for you

✶ Caught Slippin’ | 18+ ENHA REACTIONS

cw: implied threesomes, oral (f. & m. receiving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, tit play, overstim, heavy smut, between 200-300 words per member, enha!bf quotes are italicized

이희승 ✶ Lee Heeseung

“Don’t you ever get tired of fucking me all the time?” You asked your boyfriend while cuddling.

“Is that your way of asking me to praise you?”

“Would you be mad if I said yes?” He giggled, “You know I could never get tired of this,” he smiled into a kiss, running his hands all over your body.

“Heeseung, the boys are downstairs—” “Yeah, and we’re up here. Don’t act like this isn’t where you wanted this to go. Now I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you, Heeseung.” He looked at the door, moving to go and close it before you pulled him by his shirt, “Please don’t keep me waiting, Hee. I need you so bad,” you pouted.

“What is it baby? You want me to fuck you like my cute little cum slut with the door wide open?” You sqeeuzed your legs shut at his words, a throbbing sensation building up at your core.

He wasted no more time removing your clothes, sinking himself into your wetness before rutting into your needy hole. You moaned in his ear, nibbling at the skin as you rocked back and forth against the mattress, feeling dizzy from all of the pleasure.

The two of you were so wrapped up in each other that you didn’t notice Jay standing there, a raging hard-on poking through his pants. “Don’t just stand there and watch! Get the hell outta here!” Heeseung growled. Jay stammered out an apology that fell on deaf ears, fleeing the unholy scene before closing the door behind him.

“Hmm, I thought he was gonna join us,” you smirked, meeting your possessive boyfriend’s gaze. “As if I’d ever share you with anyone else.”

박종성 ✶ Park Jongseong

Your boyfriend Jay was in the middle of baking when you decided to come and check on him.

“Jungwon, I swear to God, if you touch one more thing in this kitchen, I'm gonna-," Jay paused mid-sentence before realizing it was only you stalking him from the counter.

He laughed off his anger, dipping a finger into the frosting he made and bringing some of it to your mouth. “How’s it taste?”

“Delicious,” you smirked, seductively licking his finger clean.

“Your lips look so fucking pretty right now," Jay whispered, pulling you in for a kiss which quickly escalated to you lying over the countertop completely naked, his skilled fingers getting lost between your legs.

“Fuck~," you moaned shakily, arching your back against the cold surface, "W-what if s-someone catches us like this?"

“As wet as you are right now, you obviously don’t mind the idea of being caught.”

And it was at that very moment when Jungwon whipped around the kitchen corner. "Jay-hyung, I forgot to show you this new camera my sister got me-." His rambling stopped immediately at the sight of Jay lapping at your dripping core.

“Oh my God!" Jay yelped in shock, covering you in his apron before running to Jungwon, snatching the camera out of his hand to delete the footage. "Won, what the hell?" Jay scowled, noticing the tent forming behind Jungwon’s pants before smashing the camera on the tile ground.

Jay didn't have to say anything else before Jungwon ran out of the kitchen, avoiding you two for the rest of the day if not longer.

“You’re gonna replace his camera, right?” You asked Jay while readjusting your clothes.

“Ask me next week and I’ll have a kinder answer.”

심재윤 ✶ Sim Jaeyun

You and Jake were a hot mess on the living room couch, grinding against each others clothed heats and exchanging what felt like a thousand kisses.

He gripped your ass, pushing your weight down on his dick before throwing his head back, sweat dripping down his neck.

“Fuck, ____,” he moaned into your mouth, guiding your movements.

“What is it, Jakey? Afraid you’re blow your load too soon,” you teased. “If I knew it was a challenge, I would’ve done this a long time ago,” he smirked, releasing his swollen tip from the sweat pants he wore to stimulate your clit.

You gripped onto his shoulder, trembling at the pleasure that curled in your stomach.

But little did Jake know, Sunghoon was watching you two from afar, stroking himself out in the open at the unholy sight. You felt encouraged to put on a whole performance, moaning like a pornstar and playing with your tits before you and Sunghoon finished at the same time.

That’s when Jake noticed your gaze was fixed on something else, turning around only to meet Sunghoon’s lust-ridden features, chest still heaving from his climax. “You fucking slut,” Jake spat, pushing you off his lap and flipping you on all fours.

He ripped your panties off and shoved himself past your throbbing hole, going at it like a madman. “How’s this for a show, huh? Is this dirty enough for you?” he grunted from behind, tugging your hair like reins.

It was only a matter of time before Jake finished, calling Sunghoon over to take turns with you for the rest of the night.

박성훈 ✶ Park Sunghoon

“You know I hate telling my baby no, but you’re gonna have to work for it today, princess,” Sunghoon hummed, crawling up to the head of the bed and spreading his legs. “You have three minutes or else this is all you get.”

“Starting when?”

“5 seconds ago.”

You hastily met him between his legs, pulling his boxers down with eager fingers. His breath was already jagged just from the anticipation he felt while watching you. Pulling his dick out, you trailed light kisses from the base to its head, pumping him in your hand before taking half of his length into your mouth.

“So warm for me, baby. Mngh, feels so fucking good already,” he moaned lazily. You stared into his sleepy eyes, feeling him twitch in your mouth as he grew more lightheaded with each suck. “Such a good girl for me, keep taking me just like that.”

“Sunghoon, the boys wanna know what your vote is for din-“ Sunoo stood in shock, blood rushing to both of his heads. “Ahhh, I’m so sorry—CRAP! I didn’t mean to intrude!!!” The nervous boy protested, covering his eyes with his hands.

“It’s kinda too late for you to leave, now, Sunoo. Close the door and take a seat. Maybe you’ll think twice about getting hard for my girl after you watch me fuck her for the next hour.” Sunghoon snickered, clenching his jaw.

Sunoo hesitated before giving in, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

김선우 ✶ Kim Sunoo

You bounced up and down on Sunoo’s length in reverse cowgirl style, his cold hands wandering to massage your nipples. Sunoo’s breath hitched in his chest, the corners of his eyes brimming with tears from the overstimulation.

“How much longer, baby? I don’t think I can hold back anymore,” He whined, burying his forehead into your sweaty back. “Not until someone comes in, sweetie. That was the rule.”

The poor boy groaned beneath you, reaching a hand over your hip to rub rough circles against your clit. “Sun,” you whimpered, eyes rolling in the back of your head. You clenched around him, causing him to let out his loudest moan yet as he held up your body weight with his arms.

Jake casually walked into the room with a pair of headphones on. He was oblivious to what was going on because of the loud music blaring in his ears and the darkness of the room.

He suddenly felt the ground thud beneath him, Sunoo having dropped you on the floor in shock. “Oh, fuck- sorry,” Jake froze, covering the boner that both you and Sunoo had already noticed.

Sunoo launched a pillow in Jake’s direction, a string of curse words flying from both their mouths.

“Seriously, hyung, learn to knock once in a while!”

You met your pouty boyfriend back on the bed, stroking his tense thigh. “Wanna pick up where we left off at.”

“Absolutely not and never again.”

양정원 ✶ Yang Jungwon

A conversation about asteroids and the cosmos led to your boyfriend playing with your bare tits. “They’re so pretty, baby.” He whispered, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin.

Only a few minutes of this lasted before Jungwon was completely hard. You looked into his eyes, pausing his ministrations.

“Do you maybe wanna try fucking them?”

That was the last thing you said before Jungwon positioned himself on your waist, gliding his thickness between your swollen breasts. His face was flushed and thrusts sloppy as he chased his high, dribbles of precum already decorating your sweaty collarbone.

The door slung open, the two of you feeling your hearts stop as Heeseung’s eyes fixed on your pretty tits hugging Jungwon’s cock. "Hyung-" Jungwon began before noticing the bulge forming behind Heeseung's pants, eyes widening in disebelief.

He retreated his hands from your chest, burning holes into Heeseung's forehead with his threatening gaze. "So now you're getting hard for my girlfriend?'

"How was I supposed to know you two virgins were in here fooling around? I just came to get my charger back.”

"Terrible choice of words, Hee,” Jungwon retorted, chasing Heeseung out of the room with balled fists, leaving you behind in a fit of bashful giggles.

✶ Special thanks to the lovely anon who requested this piece! This was my first time writing HEAVY smut, so I hope you all enjoyed!!! Make sure to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more fun reads ~

Tags: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @kaykay11sworld @rickysblkgf @4imhry @yngwife @bambangan

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Eyes

Dp x Dc Crossover Writing Idea

“Red Robin!”

When he backtracked to find the owner of the voice he was a bit surprised to find a young boy, maybe eight years old if he had to guess, dressed in a red sweatshirt that dwarfed him and a pair of gym shorts that had seen better days.

Not many Gothamites called out to the vigilantes, a silent agreement to stay out of their way and not to look too closely. This kid however stared up at him with bright blue eyes unafraid of getting the Red Robin’s attention.

A fan?

Before he even opens his mouth, the kid gives him a small, hopeful smile, eyes shining with something that reminds him of himself when he was that age and following Batman and Robin with his camera around his tiny neck.

“I brought you a gift,” the boy say with nervous excitement. He enthusiastically swings off the backpack he had on to dig through the contents, taking his eyes off the vigilante and showing his unwavering trust that nothing bad would happen to him while Red Robin was here.

The boy pulls out what appears to be a jar wrapped in newspaper, the worn page ripping in some spots to show the clear glass underneath. Small hands present it like it’s Red Robin’s birthday (which it wasn’t).

He takes it cautiously, the kid hasn’t been hostile but this was still weird, and pulls it closer with enough space so if it’s a bomb it doesn’t blow up in his face.

It’s got weight to it and the slight sloshing tells him it’s filled with liquid. He carefully unwraps the ‘gift’, keeping his eye on the boy who stands waiting anxiously.

Tim almost drops the jar as soon as he sees what’s inside. Only his reflexes from over the years held on and his expression turned neutral.

A pair of eyes sit at the bottom of the jar. The orbs were crudely extracted, tissue floating around them like a mane of hair around a head.

He turns the jar to see the irises and… he knew these eyes. The slimy green is filmed with death, but he recognized these eyes from the number of times the owner locked them onto him, the cruel possessiveness they possessed when they gazed at him. Never again apparently.

Tim doesn’t speak for a while, not knowing what to say, but also thoughts racing too fast to form any proper sentences.

“Do you like it?” The small, nervous voice interrupts those thoughts.

What an innocent question on an equally innocent looking face.

“How did you get Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes?”

The teasing chatter over the comms immediately hushes into shocked silence.

“I took them from his body, so you knew he was dead. I burned the rest so you don’t have to worry about him coming back again. The Pit there is gone anyway,” the child explains easily, not fazed in the slightest from the words he speaks.

“Grandfather is dead?” He hears Damian whisper over the comm.

So many other questions were flying through Tim’s head. He looks the kid over again.

Black hair and blue eyes. In any other situation the kid might have been a possible Wayne adoptee. He’s not a clone from what he can see though. Despite the coloring he doesn’t really look like any of them. Pale skin like Tim, but has freckles. The same kind of nose as Damian, but wide, round eyes. Jaw kind of like Jason, but his body shape is too narrow. Bright, almost icy blue eyes like Dick, but eyebrow shape is flatter. Lip shape like Bruce, but from the kid’s anxious lip biting he could see the faintest trace of dimples.

“Who are you?” He asks instead of the other million and one questions.

The boy blinks almost like he wasn’t expecting the question. He’s cheeks color pink with blush as he grins widely.

“I’m Danny!” He introduces cheerfully like he didn’t just hand a vigilante a jar of eyes.

“Hi, Danny,” Tim greets almost dumbly. “Want to tell me why you gave me this?”

Danny scoffs his shoe against the pavement in what appears to be embarrassment.

“Well, I know when you ask someone for something, it’s nice to give a gift or something. Like I did something nice for you so maybe you’ll do something nice for me?”

He takes a moment to absorb that child-like reasoning.

“So you want me to do something for you and you thought I would like Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes in exchange?”

Danny studies him and fidgets with the large sweatshirt sleeve.

“I just thought you would like proof. Like the whole ‘bring me the heart of my enemy’ kind of thing. Do you not like it? I couldn’t just take a picture ‘cuz I didn’t have a camera with me, I know you like photography. I can do something else for you if it’s not enough,” he offers worriedly.

Tim freezes.

“How do you know I like photography?” He demands.

Danny tilts his head curiously.

“Because Tim Drake likes photography,” he says like it’s obvious, “and you’re Tim Drake.”

Well. This is less than ideal.

“Red Robin, take him back to the Cave,” Batman instructs over the comms.

Yeah, he was getting there.

“Do you know the other’s’ identities?”

Danny nods and hums affirmatively. Tim waits.

“Oh! Yea. Batman is Bruce Wayne. Robin is Damian Wayne. Red Hood is Jason Todd. Nightwing is Richard Grey-“

“Okay. That’s enough.”

Tim glances around the empty alley they were standing in, checking to make sure no stray people heard. Luckily they were truly alone.

“Danny, do you want to come back with me?” He asks, but it’s not really a question. The kid was coming back regardless, it would just be better if he went willingly.

Unsurprisingly, the kid lights up like a little sun at the offer.

“Really?” He nearly shouts in excitement.

“Yeah, kid. I parked my bike a few blocks from here. You ever rode a motorcycle before?”

Danny shakes his head, nearly bounding on his toes.

“Not in this lifetime.” And wasn’t that odd wording? “Are we gonna grapple there?”

“Think you can hold on?”

“Yeah!”

He kneels down so the boy can climb onto his back and lock his arms around his neck and hook his feet together around his torso. Danny is worryingly light as he stands.

The kid is the picture of an excited and overeager child as they carefully fly over rooftops and then drive back to the Cave. Even when they park inside the safety of the Batcave, Danny’s eyes are filled with child-like awe and wonder, so curious and chattering with questions and wild imagination. It would be cute, endearing even, if the jar of eyes wasn’t sitting heavily in his pocket.

Alfred came down not too long after their arrival with a tray of healthy snacks and some waters. Danny happily munches on the apple slices as he wanders around where Tim can see him.

The rumble of the Batmobile can be heard almost an hour later after Tim has to tell Danny not to touch the weapons for the fourth time. The kid’s attention is drawn to the sleek black vehicle as it parks by Tim’s bike. He trots over with wide eyes as the doors open and Robin exits, then Batman.

Unfortunately, Dick is in Bludhaven and Jason is visiting Roy and Lian this week. Cass and Steph were gone as well and Duke was sleeping. It was just the three of them and this kid with Alfred as the only buffer.

Danny stares openly, curious, as the duo makes their way over to the computer where Tim has claimed his sit.

Tim turns the jar that he set on the table so the eyes are facing them and slowly leans back again, suddenly very tired. Damian flexes his hands into fists tightly while Batman is very still.

“Hi,” Danny chirps like nothing is wrong, oblivious to the tension in the air.

Batman takes a measured breath. Robin glares down at the child, but remains silent for now.

“Who killed Ra’s Al Ghul?”

Danny blinks blankly.

“Nobody.”

“You’re saying he just dropped dead?” Damian sneered in sarcasm.

“Death took him,” the child says simply as if that explained everything.

“How?” The word is demanded and emphasized.

“Like Death takes everyone. His expiration was overdue.”

Bruce frowns and Damian almost snarls.

“I demand you start making sense!”

Danny glares back in offense.

“I’m being very clear! Maybe you should ask better questions!”

The twelve year old growls at the smaller child and Batman has to place a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him from attacking.

“Danny?” Batman questions after a tense moment.

The boy’s arms are crossed in irritation, but he blinks out of his glare to stare up at the man.

“Yea?”

“How do you know our identities?”

“Oh, memories.”

Danny looked like everything he said made sense and it was driving Tim up a wall.

“Memories,” Bruce repeats.

“Uh-huh,” Danny nods confidently. “From the Lazarus Pit.”

A jolt goes through Tim as he recalls what the boy said earlier about the Pit.

“Didn’t you say the Pit was gone?” He asks before Bruce could continue his line of questioning.

Danny turns with a bright smile as if he was proud Tim remembered.

“Yea! Well, gone from this world anyway.” Tim was concerned. “I took the memories from it before sending it back where it belongs.”

“Okay. How did you know how to ‘take the memories’ and send it back? Back where?”

“I was born from it. Duh. It went back to the Realms or I guess you’d call it the Afterlife,” Danny actually rolls his eyes as if they should already know this.

“Born from it?” Damian asks with a wavering voice, hidden well from the child but not from them. “Nothing has ever been born from the Pits.”

“That you know of.”

And wasn’t that the kicker.

“So, to clarify, you come from the Pits. You know who we are because you took the memories from said Pits. Death took Ra’s because his time was up. And you took the eyes from his corpse to give to me because you thought I would like it as a gift so I would do something for you.”

Danny positively beams.

“This is why you’re my favorite!”

Damian grinds his teeth harshly.

“What is it you want Red Robin to do for you?” Batman asks in strangled hesitation.

“Oh!” Danny perks up like he remembered and hops over to Tim with pleading hands. “Can you please make me an identity? You’re really good at all that stuff and I was hoping you could find me a family. Someone to adopt me. A nice family, with a bed and family dinners and a dog. I always wanted a dog.”

Tim has the sudden urge to scream.

[pucksandpower]

Smile! You’re on Camera

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: in which your inability to stay away from Lando means that viewers of your boyfriend’s stream get a free show

Warnings: 18+ content, accidental exhibitionism

You quietly open the door to Lando’s gaming room, the glare of his monitors momentarily blinding you as you step inside. Lando doesn’t notice you at first, his eyes glued to the screen as his fingers fly over his keyboard, immersed in an intense game of Fortnite.

“Hey babe,” you say softly, not wanting to startle him mid-game.

Lando jumps a bit in his seat, glancing over his shoulder to see you standing there, your hair slightly disheveled from sleep.

“Oh hey, bunny,” Lando says, flashing you a quick smile before turning back to his game. “Just give me a few more minutes to finish this round.”

You nod understandingly and walk over to him, leaning down to give him a kiss on the cheek. As you pull away, you spot the livestream chat flying by on the other monitor, viewers eagerly commenting about getting a glimpse of Lando’s girlfriend.

“You’re streaming right now?” You ask with amusement.

“Yeah, been going for a couple hours,” Lando replies, focused on the game. “I woke up early and didn’t want to wake you by coming back to bed.”

You settle down on the arm of his chair, looping one arm loosely around his shoulders as you watch him play.

You nuzzle into his neck, lips pursed to place featherlight kisses along his jawline. The chair tilts back slightly from your shift in position. Lando sucks in a sharp breath, fingers fumbling over the keys. On screen, his character takes a hit.

Lando just shakes his head, trying to concentrate as he fights with an opponent. You continue playing with his hair, leaning in further until your face is right next to his.

“Y/N ...” Lando says in a warning tone, though you hear the smile in his voice.

“Hmm?” You murmur, sucking your mark above his collarbone as your hand drifts down to his chest.

“I’m trying to win here,” Lando protests half-heartedly.

“Mmhmm ...” you hum against his skin, nipping lightly at his jaw as your fingers deftly undo the top buttons of his shirt.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Lando protests half-heartedly. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

You glance pointedly at the screen. “It can wait.”

Lando looks back at you, eyes darkening. For a moment you think he’ll give in. But then he turns back to the game, hand coming up to adjust his headset.

“Just hang on a minute, bunny. I’m almost done.”

You huff, sitting back. The negligee rides up your thighs. Lando’s eyes dart down before focusing ahead again.

Fine then. If he won’t pay attention to you, you’ll just have to make it impossible to ignore you.

You shift again, this time straddling him completely. The chair creaks louder. You settle against him, arms coming up around his neck. Your lips find his earlobe, teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

Lando inhales sharply. “Bunny ...” he says warningly.

“Hmm?” You hum, the picture of innocence even as your mouth continues its exploration of his neck.

Lando squirms beneath you. “The stream-”

“Forget the stream.” Your hands slip lower, dancing along the waistband of his joggers. Lando chokes back a groan. “Or they’re about to get one hell of a show.”

“Now you’ve done it,” he growls, his mouth finding yours in a heated kiss.

You melt against him, your fingers tangling in his curls as the kiss deepens. Lando’s hands run up and down your back, slipping under your nightgown to caress your skin.

You break apart breathlessly, resting your forehead against his. “I missed you this morning. The bed was cold without you to keep me warm,” you whisper.

Lando’s expression softens. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I just got caught up with the stream and time got away from me.”

You smile understandingly, gently caressing his face. “It’s okay, I know how it is. I just needed my daily dose of Lando.”

Lando chuckles softly. “I’m all yours now, bunny.”

You crush your lips to his. Lando responds immediately, the game forgotten. His hands grip your hips, pulling you tighter against him. Your tongue slips past his parted lips, deepening the kiss.

You give a satisfied hum, rolling your hips experimentally. He’s already hard beneath you. The chair creaks dangerously from your combined moving weight.

Lando pulls back with a gasp. “Wait, the stream-”

You silence him with another searing kiss. “Don’t care.”

Lando gives in with a groan, his mouth moving feverishly against yours. His hands slip back under your negligee, skimming up your bare thighs. You shiver as his calloused fingers explore higher, teasing along the edge of your underwear.

You nibble at his lower lip, reveling in the throaty sound it elicits. His hands grip your backside, guiding your hips as you rock together. The chair jerks and shifts beneath you.

In the background, tinny gunshots and explosions can be heard from the abandoned game. The chat is going wild, viewers trying to figure out what is happening.

Lando’s mouth trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His stubble scratches deliciously against your sensitive skin. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” He mumbles against your collarbone.

“Mmm, mission accomplished then.” You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face back up to meet your lips.

Without warning, Lando stands, hooking your legs around his waist. You cling to him with a surprised squeak. Giggling, you reclaim his mouth.

Lando stumbles forward until your back hits the wall. You gasp as the cool surface meets your heated skin. Lando presses you harder against it, deepening the kiss until you’re dizzy and breathless.

His hands ruck the negligee up higher, moving it out of his way. Eyes locked with yours, he slips a hand beneath the lace edge of your panties, fingers exploring-

“Lando!” You gasp, head falling back against the wall.

He swallows your whimpers with another kiss. His fingers set a steady rhythm that has your toes curling in pleasure. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, short nails digging into his skin.

“Yes, Lando, please,” you beg shamelessly.

With a growl, Lando spins you both around and deposits you onto the edge of his desk. Gaming equipment clatters to the floor. The abandoned headphones swing haphazardly from the monitor.

Lando stands between your legs, hands pushing up your nightgown until it’s bunched around your waist. His eyes drink you in.

“Have I mentioned how fucking gorgeous you are?” He rasps. His hands smooth reverently over your exposed skin.

You loop your arms lazily around his neck with a hum of agreement. “You might have said it once or twice.”

Lando’s eyes sparkle. “Let me remind you again.”

He kisses his way down your neck, over the swells of your breasts, along your stomach. Your breathing turns shallow, hands coming up to tangle in his hair.

Lando pauses, fingers curling under the delicate waistband of your underwear. He glances up in question.

“Please,” you whisper. That’s all the permission he needs.

In one smooth motion he tugs them down your legs, letting them fall forgotten to the floor. Then his mouth is on you, hot and eager. Your head falls back, eyes slipping shut.

It isn’t long before you’re squirming and gasping beneath his ministrations. The edge of the desk digs into your lower back but you hardly notice. Your focus narrows to the feel of his tongue teasing that sensitive bundle of nerves, stoking higher and higher until-

“Lando!” You cry out as the pleasure crests and breaks over you. Your legs tremble, hips lifting off the desk.

Lando works you through it, drawing out every ounce of bliss until you slump back, spent and panting. He presses a final kiss to your inner thigh before rising up to claim your lips.

You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands slip under his shirt, nails raking over the hard muscles of his back. Lando hisses against your lips.

“This needs to come off. Now,” you demand, plucking at his clothes.

Lando happily obliges. He makes quick work of the buttons before shrugging the shirt off. Next come the joggers and briefs in one go. Then he’s gloriously bare before you.

You spread your legs wider in invitation. Lando steps between them, gripping your hips and tugging you forward until you’re poised right at the edge of the desk. He braces one hand by your head, the other angling himself at your entrance.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he says seriously. You smile, touched by his concern even in the midst of passion.

“I trust you.”

The words are barely out before he’s pushing inside. You both groan in unison at the feeling. He stills once fully seated, giving you a moment to adjust.

Then he draws back slowly before snapping his hips forward. You cry out, fingernails scraping at his back. Lando sets a steady pace, each powerful thrust punching the air from your lungs.

The desk rocks and squeaks beneath you. Various items cluttering its surface go tumbling to the floor. You vaguely register the background noise of video game gunfire and explosions still coming from the abandoned stream.

None of that matters right now. The only thing that exists is Lando above you, surrounding you, filling you so exquisitely.

You cling to Lando, gasping his name with each deep thrust. The desk continues protesting beneath you, edging closer to the monitors with every rock of your entangled bodies.

Lando’s forehead presses to yours, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “You feel so good, bunny,” he grits out.

You slide a hand into his hair, guiding his lips back to yours. He kisses you messily, all tongue and clashing teeth.

You can feel your pleasure mounting again with each drag of his hips. His fingers slip between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubs tight, agonizing circles in time with his powerful strokes.

“Oh god, Lando, just like that,” you whimper, teetering right at the precipice.

With a few more well-aimed thrusts, you tumble over the edge again, vision whiting out. Your pleasured cries echo through the room.

Lando groans as you clench around him. His rhythm stutters and then he’s following after you, warmth flooding your core.

For a long moment, the only sound is your combined heavy breathing. Lando collapses against you, face pressed into the crook of your neck. You run a hand lazily through his hair, down his back. Your legs are still locked loosely around his waist.

Finally Lando stirs, lifting his head to smile softly at you. “You drive me crazy but god, I love you.”

You grin, pecking his lips. “I love you too.”

With a groan, Lando carefully pulls out and takes a step back. He helps you sit up from the desk. Your muscles pleasantly ache and wobble like jelly.

And that’s when you notice the abandoned game still on screen, the chat scrolling wildly.

“Oh my god, the stream!” You gasp, smacking Lando’s arm. “It’s still on!”

Lando’s eyes go wide. “Shit!” He scrambles for the mouse, finally clicking the end stream button. The game and camera view disappear from the monitor, replaced by Twitch’s home screen.

Lando turns back to you with an embarrassed chuckle. “Well, that’s probably fifteen thousand people who just got more than they bargained for. And god knows how many more hopped on the stream when news got out of what we were doing.”

You dissolve into giggles, tugging Lando back into your arms. “Think we just made their day,” you say with a wink.

Lando smiles and kisses you sweetly. “You definitely made mine.”

***

Lando fidgets in his seat, thumb tracing anxious circles over your knuckles. You’re crammed into a conference room at the McLaren Technology Centre, facing a panel of stern faces.

At the head of the table sits Zak Brown, face like a disappointed father. To his right is Andrea Stella, lips pressed in a tight line. Flanking them are various PR reps, scribbling furious notes about damage control.

“This was incredibly irresponsible,” Zak begins gravely. “Your actions on the livestream could have had serious repercussions for yourself and the team.”

Lando hangs his head. “I know. I’m sorry, I got ... distracted.” At this, his thumb stills its movements, giving your hand a little squeeze.

You bite back a smile, remembering exactly how you thoroughly distracted him not even 24 hours ago.

“You’re lucky we were able to get your streaming ban overturned,” Andrea adds severely. “We made sure to emphasize that it was an accident but you’re on thin ice here. This can’t happen again.”

Lando nods, the picture of remorse. But you can see the corner of his mouth twitching as he fights back a grin.

“Are we clear?” Zak presses. “No more surprises on stream?”

You lean in close to Lando’s ear while the bosses stare him down. “No promises,” you whisper mischievously.

Lando’s face splits into a cheeky smirk. “No promises,” he echoes.

The PR team bursts into a frenzy, voicing their horror at his response. But Zak hides his own laugh while Andrea just shakes his head resignedly.

“You’re playing with fire,“ Zak says, but there’s humor glinting in his eyes now.

Lando shrugs, unrepentant. His thumb resumes its distracted movements over your hand under the table. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”

The bosses share a look, accepting that this is the best they’ll get from Lando today. The meeting wraps up quickly after that.

As you exit the building hand in hand, Lando pauses, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You know, I never properly thanked you for that distraction yesterday,” he says lowly, backing you against the wall.

You bite your lip coyly. “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?”

Lando’s eyes darken as he braces his hands on either side of your head. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he murmurs before capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

You melt against him, previous scolding already forgotten. His body presses flush to yours, kiss growing more passionate by the second.

After a long moment, you break apart breathless. Looking thoroughly mussed, Lando rests his forehead against yours.

“What do you say we get out of here and continue this at home?” He suggests, voice gravelly.

You grin, taking his hand to lead him eagerly to the car.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” you tease.

Lando chuckles, pinching your backside playfully. “Oh trust me, bunny, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll have at least ten more reasons why.”

“Let’s just make sure the camera is actually off this time,” you laugh. “We can save the encore for after you get your first win.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

good boy

words: 1.5k

warnings: established relationship, marriage, protective!rafe, (guard??) dog, fluffy

“rafe, it's literally two weeks. ill be fine!” you say, folding his clothes, having dumped out his suitcase onto the bed to reorganize it when you saw how he packed it, just chucking things in.

“two weeks where im a hours away from you by plane.” rafe sighs, watching you carefully repack his suitcase as he pouts on the bed, not wanting to leave you.

“you know, cameron, i lived a whole 20 years before meeting you.” you point out, knowing while rafes concern comes from his love for you, it will completely overwhelm what is supposed to be an enjoyable family vacation and leave him miserable the whole time.

“i don't see why you can't just come with me.” rafe groans, flopping back against the bed. you smile and round the bed to where his head is resting against the pillows. you press a smooch to his forehead, rubbing your hand over his head, petting at his soft hair.

“baby, it's just for your family. you know that.” it's not like you don't want to accompany rafe to a tropical paradise, but you would feel way too awkward intruding.

“what if something happens to you? and im not here to protect you? id be the worst fiancee ever.” rafe grabs your head from rubbing his head, holding up the ring on your finger for him to admire.

“nothing will happen. nothing ever happens here.” you laugh. you're not sure what crime is like on the other side of the island, but your neighborhood is incredibly safe.

“im still worried.” rafe sighs. “you in that big house all alone.”

“im gonna spend 99% of the time wedding planning.” you hum, thinking about the tabs pulled open on your laptop of different venues, dresses, and color palettes.

that finally gets rafe to crack a smile. “can't wait to marry you.” rafe says earnestly. he only proposed a month ago, some people would say that you were too young to get married, but rafe knew when you came into his life and turned everything around for him that he had to put a ring on your finger.

“i can't wait either.” you bend down to press a kiss to rafes lips. “but seriously we need to talk about your packing before we tie the knot, why do you only have one pair of shorts packed for an island?”

-- two years later --

“remember those two weeks you left before we were engaged? it's not really much longer. you should go, baby. it's a good opportunity.” you are sat on rafes lap, back pressed against his chest as he scrolls through his email.

“it's just work, and it's a whole lot longer than two weeks. i don't want to leave you here alone for over a month.” rafe closes out of the email, making you sigh.

“i was fine for those two weeks, ill be fine now. promise. i think you should go! it's a big conference.” you turn sideways on his lap so you can look rafe in the eye. “besides, it's still six months away. plenty of time to prepare.”

“prepare?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “so you'd be good with security cams around the whole house and personal security?”

“cameras on the outside and hell no. you don't want some random guys watching after me do you?”

you can see the gears turning in rafes head as he frowns. “yeah, you're right. no men.”

“so you'll go?” you smile. rafe closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding.

“yay!” you squeal. you're not excited to be left alone, and you love being around your husband more than anything, but the work trip is a big deal, and you know he'll be kicking himself if he misses out on such a good opportunity.

--

“rafey?” you call, eyes sweeping across the living room as you enter your shared home, a head full of fresh highlights.

“hubby?” you call out, continuing deeper into the house until you see movement through the glass door leading towards the backyard, but it's not the typical roll of the ocean against the shore.

“rafe?” you question as you open the door. you expected to find him in his office, where he was before you left for the beauty salon.

rafe smiles, waiting for your eyes to look down, and when you finally see what is sitting at rafes feet, you let out a gasp.

“oh my gosh!” you squeal. 

“wifey, meet max. our new australian shepherd.” rafe gives a command with his hand, that has max running towards you.

you sink to your knees as the young dog excitedly greets you, licking at your hands as you pet him.

“hi maxey.” you coo at the dog, you're guessing around two years old, with max being full size but still having some young features.

“rafe, you didn't tell me you were getting us a dog!” you stand up, max following close behind as you rush to give your husband a hug.

“i have a confession.” rafe says, his hands looped around your waist. you frown, worried that max was just a foster and you'd have to give him back, or that something went wrong with the adoption. you often talked about getting pets before getting married, but wanted to wait a little bit, and then time just slipped away and before you knew it, you were over a year into your marriage. 

“what?” you whine out.

“ive been working with a trainer behind your back. i wanted to make sure max was ready before we chose him for sure. he knows commands, me, your scent, our house. everything. he knows his primary responsibility is to protect you and our property.”

“oh my gosh!” you slap rafe in the chest, surprised that he was able to keep such a secret from you. “how could you do all that without telling me?” you laugh, not angry, but surprised that he was able to orchestrate everything.

you don't wait for rafe to explain how he was able to find so much time, stepping out of his hold to kneel down and continue petting max.

“we have some more training sessions so he can learn with you as well.” rafe further explains, also leaning down to pet max behind the ears as he pants excitedly at his new owners.

--

“what is it maxy?” you ask as he lifts his head up, looking around the living room. “you miss your daddy?”

you sigh as max lets out a sad sounding huff, petting your hand over his head, scratching at his neck which you know is his favorite. rafe has been gone on his business trip for a month now, with only a week and a half left until he returns home.

max suddenly jumps off the couch, eyes on the backyard. he lets out a bark, claws clicking on the hardwood floor as he moves to the glass door. he lets out another bark, making you stand.

“what is it boy?” you ask, looking out the window.

max lets out another bark, this one the familiar territorial bark that he’s practiced in his training with you and rafe. you know the only reason that rafe feels safe enough leaving you home is that max is a great guard dog.

you get closer to the window, squinting your eyes to try and see in the darkness when you sudden jump back with a scream as a squirrel runs across your patio, causing max to bark and run along the glass door until it scatters into the yard.

“holy shit, maxy, you scared the shit out of me.” you press your hand to your chest before kneeling down, scratching behind his ears. “it was just a squirrel.” you reassure him with a pat.

your heart rate is just starting to calm down from the fright when you hear the front door open. max instantly takes off with you following after him, letting out a sigh of relief when you see rafe standing in the foyer.

“baby.” he sighs happily, setting his suitcase down as you run into his arms, pressing your lips together. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you too, what are you doing home though?” you ask, giving him another kiss before he can answer.

“they didn’t need me for the rest of the week, decided to get home to my lady.” max barks, making rafe lean down to pet him, still holding you up. “and my good boy too, of course.”

“so happy to have you home.” you nuzzle your nose into rafes neck, inhaling the familiar scent that you missed so much. 

“happy to be back with you, wifey.” rafe says, carrying you further into the house.

“oh, and you will be very happy to know maxy did a great job protecting me while you were gone.” you tell rafe. it mostly involved max barking in warning at any delivery guy or car turning around in your driveway, but his presence did help making you feel safer and less loney.

“hopefully not too good.” rafe huffs as he looks at your pet. “can’t have him replacing me now.”

you giggle, surprised rafe can manage to be jealous of your dog. “never.” you swear, pressing another kiss to his lips.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk

[nadvs]

cam girl (part four)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You don’t know how you got through the rest of your housekeeping shift after being with Rafe. You don’t even know how you got through the rest of the day.

He still wants you to host private sessions for him, still wants to pay to watch you do things to yourself. So here you are, obeying him as usual, sitting on your bed, in front of your laptop, dressed in white lingerie and aching for a release.

figure8 has joined the session.

figure8: hi princess

“Don’t ‘hi, princess’ me, Rafe,” you say. “You have any idea how I feel right now?”

You’re still so pent up from how be denied you an orgasm earlier that day. After work, you tried to study, but you were so distractedly horny.

Still, you listened to his instructions not to give yourself the release you needed until you were on camera with him tonight. And even through the frustrating anticipation, knowing your next orgasm has his name on it, knowing he wants to dominate you like this, is so gratifying.

figure8: someone’s grumpy

figure8 tipped you $500.

figure8: feel better?

You stifle your smirk.

“Can I open this yet?” you ask, holding the box he gave you, still sealed.

figure8: you dont have to hide your face anymore

You instinctually arranged yourself how you always did when you set up your camera, but you realize he’s right. He’s seen your face already. He’s seen everything already.

You reposition to show all of you on the screen, viewing the mirror image, the pout on your face apparent.

figure8: my pretty girl. i cant stop thinking about how your face looked covered in my cum today

You can’t control your smile at his message. Shit. You were supposed to be mad at him.

“Speaking of cumming…” you say slyly. “When can I?” Your confidence is always so high, your attitude so ballsy when you’re on cam.

It’s like the real you comes out, no inhibitions whatsoever. You still can’t believe how speechless he had you in his bedroom earlier today, but you know the next time you see him in person, you’ll be able to talk to him the way you always do on during your video sessions.

figure8: open the box

You sigh a breath of relief, pulling off the pink bow and taking off the cover. On a bed of white silk lays a small, pink c-shaped sex toy. You turn it over in your hands, trying to see how it works. The chat chimes.

figure8: you look so cute trying to figure it out

“Stop teasing me,” you tell him.

figure8: no

You continue to study the item Rafe bought you, slowly understanding what part is supposed to go inside of you and what part is supposed to go against your clit.

But there aren’t any buttons.

“How does this work, baby?” you ask, your frustration dissolving as curiosity takes over.

figure8: ready?

Seconds later, you feel the toy buzz in your hands.

“Are you… controlling this?” you ask, amused. You would have never expected Rafe to be so kinky.

figure8: get naked and put it in your pussy

Eagerly, you strip off your bra and panties, spreading your legs in front of the camera like you’re straddling your laptop.

figure8: wait

You sit with your legs spread, feeling your eyebrows furrow. He’s making you wait again?

figure8: just want to look at that sweet pussy again. you tasted so good

You think back to Rafe’s head between your legs earlier that day, the way his mouth lapped and fluttered over your folds.

You can see on the screen that you have small marks on the inside of your thighs. He left hickies on you with all his teasing. He put marks on you, like he promised he would.

“You like when I do this, don’t you?” you ask, pulling your pussy lips apart.

figure8: i’m hard as fuck

“Yeah?” you coo. “You ate me out so nice today. Hopefully next time you’ll let me finish.”

figure8: so desperate for me

You put your hand at your center, rubbing right where you’re throbbing to at least ease the pain just a bit.

“Can I use the toy, baby?” you try to sweet-talk him.

figure8: go ahead. put it in and stay sitting just like that

You pick up the silicone toy, sliding the bottom part into your hole and shuddering. The top curve rests against your clit and you sit back, hands behind you as you support yourself.

figure8: i love seeing that cunt full

“When is it going to be full with your dick?”

figure8: when i say so

You sigh and grind your hips forward. The toy gently buzzes inside of you and you dip your head back, a choked moan spilling out of your lips.

The vibrations are rhythmic and far apart, but at least you’re finally getting some stimulation.

The other part of the vibrator starts moving, suctioning over your clit. The sensation of both ends working you, of knowing Rafe is controlling it on the other side of town, lying in his bed and watching you with his hard dick in his hand, adds to how hot all of this is.

You arch your back as the toy buzzes and sucks and you start to roll your hips.

The chat chimes.

figure8: keep your eyes on the screen so u can see how pretty u look when you’re moaning

“Okay,” you obey breathlessly. You watch yourself on the screen, tits out, pussy squeezing around the toy Rafe bought you.

He keeps the same low setting on for a few minutes and you softly moan through the sensations. He knows this isn’t enough to make you cum but you don’t want to whine.

figure8: ready for more?

“Please,” you plead. The buzzing in you grows stronger, your walls clenching around the toy. “Shit, Rafe.”

figure8: feels good?

“So good,” you sighed. “So fucking good.”

figure8: play with your tits for me, princess

You sit up, putting your hands over your chest, fondling your breasts. You pinch your nipples and rub your fingers over them.

figure8: my good girl

The vibrator’s buzzing gets even more intense and you squeeze your legs together to get the most out of it.

The toy immediately stops moving.

“Rafe,” you groan.

figure8: you didn’t listen

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you shudder. You spread your legs for him again and look at the screen at your own desperate expression. Thankfully, you feel the toy move again, but it’s at the low setting you started at.

You won’t complain. He’ll delay the orgasm even more.

Eventually, you’re at the second level again and you quiver at how good it feels.

“Can we go a little faster? Please?” you purr, the knot inside you tightening.

figure8: god i thought i could do this but i can’t. where are you. i need to fuck you

The message makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. The thought of him pounding into you on your bed, of you not having to make yourself cum with your hand or a toy, thrills you.

“Now who’s impatient?” you ask with a smirk.

figure8: whats the address

“Let me just type it out for you,” you say slowly, enjoying this small window of control you’re in.

You type it out in seconds, but keep your hands over the keyboard before sending it to purposely make him wait, tits squeezed together up to the camera for him to see.

He only messages your name and you laugh at his neediness. Then a second message comes in.

figure8: you’ll pay for this

“Scary,” you mock. In reality, you’re really excited to see what punishment looks like to him. You finally hit the enter key.

figure8 tipped you $1000.

Rafe leaves the chat.

The fact that he still paid you is a pleasant surprise. In just a few days, you’ve fattened up your bank account quite nicely just from pleasuring yourself for him.

There’s a knock at your apartment door after what feels like an eternity. You open it a few inches, peeking out to see Rafe, and you shield yourself with the door as you open it to avoid anyone else in the hallway possibly seeing you nearly naked.

You figured there was no reason getting fully dressed, only putting your panties on.

With how much he loves to tell you he owns you, you’re sure Rafe wouldn’t take it well if a neighbor accidentally saw you exposed. He won’t even allow you to cam for other guys anymore.

You lock the door, leaning back on it with your arms crossed.

He towers over you, his presence so damn demanding in your tiny apartment. Your whole place would fit in his bedroom. He probably hasn’t ever been inside a home this small.

His eyes are fixed on your tits, the burning in his eyes giving you a warm sense of satisfaction.

“What was it that made you need to come fuck me yourself?” you ask with a smirk.

Maybe it’s because you’re in your own home, but now you have the confidence to tease him how you always do on cam, the shock of him knowing who you were during your sessions now worn off.

Rafe’s clearly amused, closing the distance between you, placing a hand up on the door as he dips his head to look down at you.

“You’re acting like you weren’t just asking when you can get my dick inside you,” he says, voice deep and dripping with desire. His lips curl into a smile, his perfect teeth peeking behind them.

Your fingers feverishly find the hem of his t-shirt and you start to pull it up, hungry to see him naked again.

“Can’t wait for it, can you?” Rafe asks, standing straight and bunching the fabric between his shoulder blades, pulling the shirt off for you and dropping it.

“I’m not the one who just drove all the way over here to fuck,” you taunt. Your eyes fall down his toned chest, the ridges of his abs. “And I’m needy?”

You love this back-and-forth power struggle with him. It’s like a game, a competition to see which one of you is more desperate for the other.

And honestly, it feels a little like payback for the orgasm he denied you today.

He brings his hands up your sides, sliding up to your tits, putting his cool palms on your chest and squeezing and fondling in a way that makes you sigh with pleasure.

“I have to fuck that attitude out of you,” he huffs. You giggle at his words, feeling your core pulse with desire.

Before you started anything with him, you thought Rafe was just another privileged, entitled asshole who’s painfully hot and knows it. But you’re actually having fun with him, teasing each other like this.

Your hands wander over his hard chest, smoothing over his worked out pecs.

“You can try,” you retort. He leans down and locks his lips on yours. His body curls up against you, your back pressed against the door as he grinds against you, his cock hard.

His hands cup your ass and he suddenly hikes you up. You wrap your arms and legs around him, your damp panties pressed against his hard stomach.

You dip your head into the crook of his neck and he smells like expensive cologne and salty sweat and man, making the tension coil inside you even tighter.

“Show me where you fuck yourself for me every night,” he orders, breath hot against your ear.

You pull back to meet his eyes, looking down at him through heavy lids. You wordlessly motion to the open door into your bedroom.

Rafe carries you through your apartment and lowers you onto your bed, hovering over you as he continues to kiss you roughly, tongue tumbling with yours. He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, the twinge of pain mixing so well with the pleasure.

You feel his hand rest on your pussy and your nerves are on fire.

“This is mine,” he rasps against your lips.

“Yours,” you say.

He rubs over your panties in broad circles, dipping his head down to your collarbone, tongue slowly darting out as he sucks. You’re sure he’ll leave another hickey on you.

You feel him press his finger over your hole, nudging the fabric of your panties against you.

You’ve officially lost all your patience.

“Please fuck me,” you say. You’re not even being needy because he likes it - you are fully desperate. “I’ll beg as much as I need to, okay? Just… please. I need you so fucking bad.”

Rafe pulls away, looking down at you in the dim light of your bedroom. His smirk is so damn smug and so damn arrogant. You’re stroking his ego and he loves it.

“I told you that you’ll pay for that little game you played,” Rafe threatens.

“Rafe,” you moan, squirming below him.

“I thought you might touch yourself the second you got home… but I can tell you listened to me.”

“I did,” you reassure him. “Do whatever you want to me. Just let me cum.”

“Whatever?” he echoes, dimples taunting you. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, nails digging into the back of his neck. This is fucking torture.

“Anything, Rafe,” you promise.

“What if I want you on your knees so I can fuck that pretty mouth as hard as I want?” The thought makes you feel like you’ve entirely drenched your underwear.

“Yes, yes,” you say, nodding desperately. “Please. Anything.”

He laughs so damn pompously and degradingly, like your need for him is comical.

“It’s not funny,” you whine.

“I’d be balls deep in you right now if you didn’t fuck with me,” he tells you. You regret not just giving him your address immediately. Teasing him wasn’t worth it.

He gets up, taking his hand off your pussy and encircling your wrist, beckoning you to sit up.

“On the floor, princess,” he instructs.

You quickly settle on the rug next to your bed, knees on the floor and hands on your lap as you look up at him.

Rafe stands and unzips his jeans in front of you and pulls them down, left in gray briefs that do no work hiding the thick shape of his dick.

When he takes off his last piece of clothing, his cock bucks out, precum already leaking out the tip. You could tease him about how horny he is for you, but you know better.

He starts to slowly stroke his length.

“Eyes up,” he says. You obey and look up at him, knowing the amused, perverse way he’s gazing down at you will not soon leave your memory. You don’t want it to.

He pats his dick on your parted lips, your bottom lip quivering beneath the weight of it.

“You sucked it so good today,” Rafe taunts. “And look at you doing it again. You like this cock?”

“I love it,” you tell him.

He pinches your chin so you’ll open your mouth wider and slowly pushes himself in, his breath shaky as your mouth takes him all.

The base of his cock presses against your nose and you squeeze your fists tight, pussy aching in need. As bad as you want him inside of you, this feeling is so fucking perfect.

He puts his hands on the sides of your head, thumbs pressed on your temples.

“You’re gonna keep that pretty mouth open just like this, okay?” he instructs.

You nod, mouth full.

He pulls back, then pumps back into you. You gag and you hear him groan.

“That fucking sound…” he says.

He bucks in and out again, faster this time. You close your eyes from the pleasure of being used by him like this.

“Eyes.” His voice is husky. You meet his gaze again. “Good girl.”

Rafe’s pumps start to speed up, the tip of his dick sliding deep in your throat. His grip on your head tightens as he starts to lose himself in the feeling, his groans so damn hot that you wish you were recording this so you could play it back the next time you’re touching yourself.

But then again, it seems like Rafe has full control over when and where and how you masturbate.

He keeps fucking your face and you choke again after a deep thrust, starting to slobber on his cock. He pumps once more, deep, and you let out a strangled gag, tears forming.

He pulls out suddenly, his eyes frantically searching yours.

“Is it too much?” The concern on his face, the fact that he’s checking in on you like this, makes you realize just how wrong you were about this man. He is so much more than you thought.

Even in the eroticism of the moment, your heart feels like it flutters from Rafe’s display of care.

“No,” you tell him, wiping the spit around your mouth off with the back of your hand. “Keep going.”

He enters your mouth again and you fucking love it. The way he tastes, how hard he is, how smooth he is. It’s perfection.

Rafe returns to his fast pace, rocking in and out of your mouth, his eyes on yours the entire time. After a few more thrusts, he takes out his wet cock and puts one hand on the base of his length and the other at the back of your neck.

“You need to be fucked, don’t you, princess?” he asks.

“Please,” you whisper, anticipating bubbling inside of you. Finally, his cock will be right where you need it.

He applies pressure to the back of your neck, beckoning you to stand. On weak knees, you lift yourself up and let him guide you down onto your bed.

You lie on your back and Rafe leans down to slide his fingers under the band of your panties. You put your legs together so he can slide them down and off of you.

The mattress sinks as he bows to lie over you, his hands on the bed at either side of your head. You gaze up at him, the planes of his cheeks, the slope of his nose.

“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” Rafe rasps.

You’re thinking the same thing about him, but you’re so starved that you can’t say a single word.

Your cunt is dripping and goosebumps spread across every inch of your naked body. And you’ve never been happier that you’re on the pill, so you can feel him fuck you without a barrier.

One of his hands dip low to guide himself into you and you swear that you can see stars once you feel his tip nudge against your opening.

You shut your eyes and hear his sharp intake of breath as he enters you fully.

“God,” you shudder, the weakness in your voice shocking you. Nobody has ever had this effect on you, felt this nice in you. “Oh, my God.”

“Shit, that’s so fucking good,” he praises, bottoming out inside of you.

It hurts a little at first. You expected it with his size. But your body adjusts quickly and you feel nothing but bliss.

You find the strength to link your legs around him tightly, trapping him, afraid he’ll tease you again.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” Rafe says with a chuckle, bending to press his lips against yours.

His weight is on you, his dick is filling you, his lips are pulling yours, and you want to stay in the moment forever.

He seems to savor the feeling of being inside of you for a moment, and then pulls back and plunges deep inside you again. You turn your head to the side, away from his mouth so you can speak.

“Harder, please,” you beg impatiently.

“We have all night,” he says. You can feel his smile against your cheek.

You let out a hopeless whimper and he seems to have a moment of sympathy, realizing just how tortuously he’s been teasing you.

Rafe pulls back then rocks back into you harder, jolting your body with pleasure. The bed starts to squeak as he rolls his hips, thrusting in and out of you.

You groan, hooking your arms around him, hands pressed on his shoulders. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot on you.

His muscles flex under your palms as he jerks his fat cock into you, rubbing against your walls, reaching deep inside you.

“You like that?” he whispers, his hot breath pressing on your neck.

“You fill me up so nice,” you moan. “Fuck, Rafe.”

“This pussy is so fucking perfect,” he says.

He straightens, holding himself up with locked arms, gazing at you with heavy lids, looking drunk off the feeling of fucking you. Your tits bob up and down with his rough movements, your chest heaving.

“Play with yourself,” he tells you. “You deserve to cum nice and hard, princess.”

You smile gratefully and immediately circle your clit with your fingers, the sensation mind-blowing. Rafe continues to pump in and out hard, looking down as you touch yourself, getting a private show out of you even in person.

He watches you in what you can only describe is awe, and dips his long forefinger inside your mouth. You wrap your lips around his finger, sucking on it as he thrashes into you.

You feel yourself inching closer to your peak. You shut your eyes and arch your back, lips parting as you pant with each thrust.

A million fireworks explode inside of you when you finally cum. You clench around Rafe and feel him go even harder when his hot liquid pools into you.

He’s breathing just as hard as you are when he slowly pulls out. You hate the feeling of him leaving your body.

He collapses beside you, both of you looking up at the ceiling as you come down from the high.

You could pass out in seconds and you figure Rafe is not the kind of guy that cuddles. But because of the rough neighborhood you live in, you need to make sure the door’s locked behind him.

Before you can figure out how to ask him if he wants to stay, knowing he’ll say no, you hear a dreadful rattle.

“Fuck,” you groan.

“What was that?” Rafe asks.

“My heat just broke again,” you say. “The radiator is shit.”

You mentally go through the catalogue of what you need to do - find your extra blankets, bring out the space heater, keep trying to turn on the radiator even though you know it’s pointless.

“Again?”

“My landlord’s an ass. He’s supposed to fix it but never actually does.”

“So… what?”

“What do you mean?” you turn to look at Rafe, the soft lighting in your room casting shadows on his pretty face.

“What do you do now?”

“Bundle up,” you say with a defeated chuckle. “It usually starts working again in a few days.”

“Don’t you… can’t you call someone?” he asks. What a rich person thing to say. Call someone. The answer to everything.

“It’s too expensive,” you say. “And it’s not even on me. My landlord’s supposed to do it.”

“It’s, like, thirty degrees outside.” You’re not sure if he’s teasing or laughing at you right now, but you can’t take it. He can berate you all he wants sexually, mocking how much you want him, but your financial situation isn’t on the table.

“I know you love to give me shit, but don’t… not over this, okay?” you say.

Rafe nods quickly. You’re not sure if this means he was about to mess with you about it but won’t, or if it means he wouldn’t taunt you about it in the first place.

“How much would it cost? To fix?” he asks.

“I had someone come look at it a while ago and it cost $200 just for him to tell me it’s a $3000 fix since it’s such an old system.”

“That’s nothing,” he says.

At this point, you have to laugh. He is so fucking out of touch.

“Rafe, how much do you think I make cleaning your house?” you ask. You hope you don’t have to spell it out for him. You’re a maid. For fuck’s sake, you started to get naked for strangers online to make extra money. You’re clearly not in a great spot financially.

And sure, his tips are helping to cover bills, but you still have tuition and loans and rent to worry about.

Rafe doesn’t say anything. He just looks back up at the ceiling, giving you a chance to gaze at his profile.

This man doesn’t know how good he has it. He’s never had to worry about the cost of home repairs. Or rent. Or bills.

You knew Rafe was from a different world. For fuck’s sake, you cleaned his mansion twice a week - you saw the life he lived. But this makes you see just how far removed he is from what life is like for somebody like you.

“You gonna get on camera for me again tomorrow?” he finally asks. You can’t help but laugh. His mind is in the gutter. Of course. You knew not to expect much from him.

“Sure, baby,” you say. “I like that toy you got me. How do you control it?”

“On my phone,” he says. He shifts in bed, getting up, and you figure this is the end of the night.

You yawn and try to will your tired body to sit up. But Rafe lies back down, his phone in his hand. He must have taken it out of the pocket of his jeans.

He opens an app in front of you, showing the buttons on the screen that trigger different modes. If you weren’t so exhausted from how hard he fucked you, you’d probably ask to play with it right now.

You watch him close the app and tap on the green “Phone” app. He hands it to you.

“Here,” he says. “Put your number in.”

Caught off guard, you take Rafe’s phone - the newest iPhone, of course - and type in your digits. Why would he need to contact you outside of the cam website?

Probably for booty calls like these. This guy is only keeping you around to watch you on cam or fuck you. He only has one setting. Horny.

Then Rafe gets up again, and this time he’s clearly ready to leave, pulling his briefs up. You take a moment to appreciate how nice his ass is.

You wrap one of your smaller blankets around you and follow him out to your front door.

Rafe bends to pick up his shirt off the floor and you notice the logo as he pulls it on. That shirt he carelessly tossed to the ground costs the same as your rent. Probably more.

He turns to look at you, his frame large, his hand on the doorknob.

“This was fun,” he says. “Next time, I’m fucking you from behind.”

“Deal,” you say with a playful shove.

After showering and brushing your teeth, you get out the extra blankets and the loud, old space heater you keep in your closet.

You settle into bed, taking out your phone to set an alarm so you can wake up early tomorrow and get a head-start on studying.

A notification on your screen shocks you. An unknown number sent you $3000.

{ read part five here }

[smileycarat]

idol!wonwoo x idol!reader

small instances where both of your fanbases start to notice lingering looks between the two of you until it becomes so much more

a/n: this isn’t much but i had fun writing it, lmk what you think! :)

pt 2

the first interaction is when you’re presenting an award that seventeen happens to win

as you and your co-announcer pass out awards, your fingers brush against his as you congratulate him, and he flashes a smile at you

both of your fan bases were quick to screen grab the interaction, and it very quickly became a cherished moment of more to come

it was closely followed by a different interaction where both of your groups were talking on stage, and you were moving to the side and had tripped over the length of your gown

he was quick to catch you by the elbow to steady you on your two feet

the people around you gasped and moved to make room

which left a spotlight on the two of you

it was slightly comical the way you both looked at each other before turning to the audience with shy smiles

wonwoo stood behind you the rest of the time on stage

when it came time to leave, he offered you his arm as you stepped off the stage

with a bright smile his way, you accepted and walked off together

fans nearly had a heart attack

since then, people would point out almost every interaction between the two of you

if you would be in the same room and happen to make eye contact

during a game competition, you two get paired up together, and safe to say, you demolish the rest of the teams

wonwoo is an extremely smart man, and as are you a smart person, and after the episode airs, fans make memes on how you both make a dangerous and powerful duo

you were both quick to devise a plan, hushed whispers in the few seconds you had together, his shoulders shielding you from the rest of the room from where you both stood

your mics caught your plan clearly, and fans were impressed by how in sync you both were

he worked with distracting other people, making it seem like he was the one they should look out for

however it was you who gathered information and the hidden objects you were supposed to find to complete your mission

in the end, not only were you both able to complete your mission, but you were also able to hide the other object other groups were supposed to find, making it near impossible for them to find

the prize you both won was a coupon to a nearby cafe

it was adorable the way you both cheered in excitement for the coupon, wonwoo even raising your hands clasped together in the air in celebration

you would have thought that you both couldn’t afford your own coffees with the way you both cheered

the video ended with vlog footage of you both walking to the cafe

you held the camera in your hands facing you as you both walked to the location, camera tilted up to capture wonwoo in the frame

fans were surprised to see the way that wonwoo joked with you and tugged on the end of your hair to catch your attention to point to a billboard with your group in it

he took the camera from you to capture a shot of you smiling and posing in front of the billboard

when you took the camera from him, you also made him pose in front of the billboard, which was comical since you couldn’t see much of his face due to his hat and mask, but he did make a peace sign when posing to amuse you

he opened the door for you and stood behind you in line, even crouching down slightly in order to hear your answer when he asked what you were going to order

when it was your turn to order, he walked forward to place your orders before handing the cashier the coupon you both worked hard for

wonwoo even paid for the difference despite you trying to pay, and he stepped in front of you to block your way from the pin pad

you both sat down at a small table in the corner of the cafe side by side so you could both be in frame, and you rated the coffees you had bought

you weren’t the biggest fan of your own coffee, stating that it was slightly too bitter, and he was quick to switch out your straws and give you his cup

the video ended with you both waving goodbye, and safe to say, the video was trending for a week

when you posted a selfie together after the episode aired, it quickly became your most liked image on instagram

wonwoo also posted a different picture of you together standing back to back with your arms crossed

he captioned it “partner in crime”

you commented “dream team”

other svt members would comment under your posts demanding a rematch and wondering how they won

wonwoo would comment the shrugging emoji in response 🤷🏻‍♂️

you once post a picture if you out in the city

a few days later wonwoo posts a picture taken of him holding a camera, and fans were quick to notice the similar locations you were both in

when at other music events, there was footage of you waving to him from your seats with your group, and him shyly waving back

later when he walks with the rest of svt on the red carpet, fans notice him wearing a ring with the top facing in, and it’s not until he waves that people capture your initial on it

on your birthday when you post a clip of someone recording you with a cake while people sing happy birthday, fans swear they can hear wonwoo’s voice singing amongst the rest

one day you post the cutest kitten on your instagram page, showing your fans how you recently adopted a cat

a few months later, wonwoo posts a selfie of the same colored cat, only slightly bigger, sitting on top of an open book (presumably the one he was reading)

fans once spot you both visiting a bookstore and they just about died when they saw you walk out with the same book

at times, sometimes wonwoo is spotted exiting your company building while other times you are exiting his

fans are waiting for the collab tbh

you are both extremely private people, and any interactions you have together publicly has fans eating it UP

rumors of your potential relationship are all anyone talks about leading up to major events where both your groups will be attending

wonwoo surprisingly is the one to confirm the rumors two years later when he posts a mirror selfie of the two of you on your birthday with a simple cake emoji

the internet broke

[igbylicious]

knockout [woosan x reader]

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, boxer au, friends with benefits

summary: Wooyoung invites you over to play after San wins his latest match.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: boxer San, manager Wooyoung, threesome, consensual somnophilia (San is the one asleep), blow job, hand job, spit kink, face-sitting, cunnilingus, face-fucking, choking on cock, cumplay (eating and sharing), dirty talk, San has bruises, they use the pet names ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’ for you but no pronouns, established Woosan, San is whiny while he sleeps but gets cocky when awake, Wooyoung is a mischievous lil’ shit (affectionate) the whole way through

a/n: my first ateez fic! please consider a like/reblog if you like it (❁´◡`❁)

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

Your phone buzzes late at night, and you already know who it is before looking. You tear yourself away from the TV and check your messages, where you find a selfie from Wooyoung.

His hair is getting longer, pushed back with sunglasses resting on top of his head. (Even though it’s already dark out. Poser.) He wears a black-and-white shirt with a busy pattern and just one button too many undone, a heavy silver necklace around his neck. But all of that is just a sideshow to the main point of the selfie; Wooyoung is winking cheekily at the camera, holding up a big wad of cash. San won the match.

does this mean takeout is on you guys next time? you text him. After a brief pause you add, also congratulations i guess

(But the dismissive tone is just for show, riling each other up a natural part of your relationship with Wooyoung. You’re smiling as you press send, knowing how much a win means to him and San, how hard they work for it.)

Your phone buzzes again. you should come over

for takeout?

idk about takeout but there’s definitely a meal in it for you 😏😜😘🍆💦

You can’t decide whether to grin or roll your eyes at the message and its string of emojis at the end, but you do send Wooyoung an affirmative text back. Your face decides on a grin as you put your phone down, a spark of excitement coursing through you. Guess you’re going out tonight after all.

This thing between you and San and Wooyoung has been going on long enough that usually you don’t even bother dressing up for them anymore, but hey, it’s a special occasion, right? So you slip on some lacy underwear and wiggle into a cute dress, and do a quick check in the mirror to make sure you’re looking at least halfway decent. (Not too much fuss. Wooyoung did text you in the middle of the night.)

Just before you go, your phone buzzes one last time; Wooyoung warns you to send a text once you get to the apartment, not ring the door. At first you do not give it too much thought; they do live in a crappy old place, might just be that the doorbell is broken.

But then the added photo loads, and you see San is conked out on the couch, sitting with spread legs and his head lolled back, mouth slightly hanging open. Apparently he hasn’t even changed clothes since the match, wearing a dirty white tank top and a smattering of bruises across his tanned skin. His dark hair is a mess, pretty lips set in a natural pout while he sleeps.

Immediately, a fresh buzz of excitement surges through you. There is a whole new layer of thrill to this invitation now.

After driving over, you send Wooyoung a text that you’ve arrived. He opens the door for you with a bright grin, and puts a quick finger to his lips to indicate you have to be quiet. His sunglasses have disappeared somewhere between making a selfie and your arrival, saving him a roasting from you. He gives your dress an appreciative once-over, and casually kisses your cheek as he lets you in, resting his hand on the small of your back. His good mood is incredibly obvious, fingers brushing against the top of your ass.

You slip off your shoes and step further into the apartment. The place is a bit messy as always, furnished with a combo of thrift-shop finds, stuff they won off bets, and random things donated by friends. (Even their old van is a hand-me-down, though you have no idea where they got it from.)

The result is a home that’s chaotic, but friendly. Shelves piled with keepsakes, stories attached to everything they own. And for all the messiness, at least they do keep it somewhat clean.

There is a desk in the corner, with a few neat piles of paper money on top. Clearly Wooyoung was in the middle of counting — and accounting, his books laying open with a pen next to them. Despite all his antics, Wooyoung is actually pretty responsible with money. He knows that he needs to be, never sure when they’ll get their next win. (You suspect they run a few less-than-legal stints on the side, but neither seems too keen on making that their main gig.)

And then there is San, sitting on their old couch. Still fast asleep.

“Look how tired,” Wooyoung murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “He worked so hard today, I thought we should reward him. How about it, hm? Don’t you think he deserves a prize for taking home the victory?”

You lick your lips, a sharp craving growing in the pit of your stomach at the sight of San’s soft, sleeping face. As far as you are concerned, you are the one getting a prize here. It’s been a long time since you last had the chance to indulge in this particular kink; it can be tricky to coordinate when you don’t actually live in the same house.

And San makes such pretty noises when he’s asleep.

Wooyoung grins at the expression on your face. “Good girl,” he whispers indulgently, pressing one last kiss on your cheek before he playfully slaps your ass, pushing you towards the couch.

You glare back at him, even if the slap sent a crackle of pleasure through you. Just out of principle, to let Wooyoung know he can’t get away with everything. (He can absolutely get away with everything.)

But then you shift your focus to San, getting on your knees in front of him as quietly as possible. He usually is a deep sleeper but still, you are not about to risk waking him too early. You do take a moment to just look at him; to take in the way his broad chest moves with slow, even breaths.

The hard, battered muscles of his body are completely relaxed now, arms laying uselessly on the couch. There are marks on his knuckles, and it’s odd to think he was using those same fists to beat someone up, all for a cash prize, just a mere few hours ago. He looks so soft now. Not for the first time, you marvel at how handsome he is, the sharp cut of his jawline, pronounced cheekbones and pouty lips. So damn gorgeous, even with bruises marring his face, a particularly nasty one on the corner of his mouth. You want to kiss it, but you tuck that thought away for later.

San’s legs are already conveniently spread for you to shuffle close; could be a happy coincidence, could be that San was expecting this. Expecting you.

(This was a conversation you had long ago, where he’d given you a free pass to ‘wake’ him if an opportunity presented itself. It is entirely possible that he and Wooyoung discussed this before contacting you, and something about the idea of San falling asleep while thinking of your mouth on his dick makes you squirm in the best way.)

You press a hand against the front of his sweats, feeling the outline of his cock. You squeeze it with a light touch, give the impressive length a gentle stroke, and delight at the little “Hmm” that San sighs out.

Encouraged by the sound, you pull down the waistband of San’s sweats just enough so you can take his cock out, heavy in your hand. Still soft, though he gives a beautiful twitch when your thumb runs across a vein across the underside.

Your eyes glance up when Wooyoung sits down, just as carefully as you had been. He is slouched next to San with an arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers ghosting against San’s hair but never touching, while he raises his other hand to bite at his thumb. Uncharacteristically quiet, watching with rapt attention.

Heat pools between your thighs, you love being on display for him, teasing a sleeping San. You’re keenly aware of how your dress has ridden up, your ass sticking out, your neckline low enough for an ample view of your cleavage — though you’re sure it’s your hand that has Wooyoung’s full attention right now, wrapped around his lover’s slowly hardening dick.

You gather saliva in your mouth, then let it dribble down on your fingers and San’s cock. He moans, shifting slightly, lips parting a little wider as you take advantage of the easier slide of your palm. The sound goes right to your core; San’s moans are just a bit shallower when he is asleep, a bit more high-pitched. More needy.

More noises start to slip from his lips as you slowly stroke the length of his thick cock, thumb playing against his slit. Sometimes his hips shift to follow your movement, but he does not wake, his conscious mind unaware of your fist working him to full hardness.

San is getting beautifully flushed, a redness blooming across his cheeks and neck as he lets out a faint whimper, brow furrowed. It is always a fun game, to see how far you can take him before he wakes up — before you are treated to that toe-curling moment of aroused disorientation on San’s face, that split-second where he can’t quite figure out why he is so fucking horny until he sees you, nested between his thighs, and a sleepy yet cocky grin breaks out on his face.

But it’s not come so far yet; San is still under the hold of his tired slumber. His breath hitches as your fist twists around the head of his cock, almost like a little hiccup, precum mingling with your spit. You know you can’t hold off your impatience for much longer.

Wooyoung is still staring, though his eyes wander between San’s cock and the wiggle of your ass, his cheeky tongue dipping out to wet his lips. His gaze is heated, intense, and the slight asymmetry of his eyelids makes his stare only more attractive and striking, dotted by the little mole under his eye. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth as he watches, but grins when he catches you watching him in turn. He leans forward, elbow on his knees, and beckons for you to offer your hand.

You do so, and watch how Wooyoung decadently works his mouth and lets a thick globule of spit fall past his lips, onto your waiting palm. His grin widens when you moan weakly as his saliva mingles with yours, with San’s precum, and generously gives you more until your hand is messy and slick. Finally satisfied, Wooyoung leans back with a flirty wink.

You make good use of Wooyoung’s ‘contribution’, pumping San just a little faster now. His noises start to pick up, face contorted with unaware pleasure as a small trail of drool escapes the corner of his mouth. It won’t be long now before he wakes. Honestly, you are surprised it has lasted this long at all; San’s fight must have been particularly strenuous tonight.

Just when you contemplate whether it’s time to get your tongue involved, Wooyoung suddenly gets up from the couch.

You try not to get distracted by him moving around behind you, keeping your focus on San, but then you feel a little tap against your ass. You turn your head to see him lying on his back, head between your feet with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Lift your ass up, he mouths and gestures simultaneously.

You do exactly that, allowing Wooyoung to slide under you with his hands on your waist, his face right underneath the flimsy scrap of lace that covers your dripping core, barely worth the name ‘underwear’. “Seriously?” you whisper, though even just the sight of him, raised eyebrow and ready to eat you out, has more arousal leaking into your thong.

“Hey, San isn’t the only one who worked hard for this match,” Wooyoung whispers quietly, wetting his lips. “Don’t I deserve a reward, too?”

Well… If Wooyoung’s idea of a reward is to have you ride his face, then who are you to deny him? You really keep getting the better deal out of their hard-earned victory. Still, you roll your eyes at him, just to let him know how ridiculous you think he’s being, though the increasingly damp spot on your underwear tells Wooyoung all he needs to know.

He lets out a pleased, dark chuckle as you lower yourself down, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist as he positions you for the best angle. He does not even bother to pull the scrap of lace aside, happily eating you out through it.

San whines when your fingers squeeze around him, liquid oozing from the tip, his hips stuttering lightly before he settles back down. His cock is flushed dark, pulsing in your hand, but it is hard to focus on him right now. A lazy hand continues to stroke him while you struggle to focus on anything but Wooyoung’s muffled moans against your sopping heat.

You bite your lip to keep silent, hips moving on their own accord as Wooyoung’s nose presses against your clit, his mouth undeterred by the obstruction of lace as he makes a sloppy mess of your cunt, eagerly lapping away.

Wooyoung is rarely this quiet, but today he foregoes his usual dirty talk and running commentary to direct his full attention on reducing you to a mindless mess. He is a fiend with his mouth either way, thick swipes of his tongue and grazing teeth, mouth suckling at you through the now-ruined lace.

It takes all your self-control to stay on task, to not get distracted by the sound of a zipper, and soon after the wet noise of Wooyoung jerking himself off, still moaning against your leaking cunt. You shake yourself out of it, wrapping your lips around just the head of San’s cock, licking at the steady stream of precum while you use both hands to work his length. He twitches in your mouth, and for a moment you wonder if he’s going to cum without even waking up at all.

But then Wooyoung uses his nose to nudge your thong aside and sucks directly at your clit, and you moan loudly around San’s cock at the sudden stimuli.

San starts awake at the vibration, his hips reflexively jerking forward. You happily meet his thrust to gag on him, making San hiss a throttled curse. “F-fuck, what’s-ahhh—”

His hand flies to your hair, instinctively holding you in place. Your eyes tear up as he hits the back of your throat and stays there, but you can still glance upward to look at him — and he’s a fucking sight to behold. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, his mouth slack and panting hard for breath as he tries to get his bearings. Eyes landing on you, his cock twitching as understanding dawns. The moment is every bit as beautiful as you had imagined.

“Look who it is, Sannie,” Wooyoung grins when he notices San is awake, taking a break from tongue-fucking you. “Came over just to congratulate you. Ain’t that sweet?”

“Fuck,” San chokes out, his voice gravelly from sleep. He hisses sharply when you hollow your cheeks and give a light suck, drawing a low groan. Slowly, the sleep retreats from his eyes and is replaced by a dark alertness, though his face is still flushed, his body tired.

Lazily, he lets you continue doing what you do, only stroking your hair in encouragement as he releases you, letting you return to shallower bobs of your head. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he groans, biting his lip. Once again, your attention is drawn to the bruise on the corner of his mouth, aching to be kissed — but your own mouth is preoccupied. Later, you promise yourself. There will be time for that later.

As expected, San’s moans are a little deeper now he is awake, slowly rocking his hips as he watches you take him further with every pass of your mouth. You wonder if he’s even aware of the difference in his sounds, or if that’s just a little secret for you and Wooyoung to know.

Speaking of Wooyoung — now that he doesn’t have to keep quiet for San, he gets talkative again. “Use me, baby,” he groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Come on, ride me a little harder. Don’t be shy. Smear that wet pussy all over my face.”

You don’t need to be told twice, enthusiastically granting Wooyoung’s request. He moans happily as you fuck yourself on his tongue, any further words muffled between your thighs. You’d worry about whether Wooyoung can even breathe, except he has a death-grip on your hips and refuses to let you slow down. His nose repeatedly bumps into your clit, sending sparks through you every time, your moans reverberating around San.

San grunts at the feeling, voice husky and low. But as attractive as the sound is… some part of you wants to hear his whimper again. Just to see if you can make him do it.

Well. There are a few sure-fire ways you know to push San to the very limit and beyond — and one of them is immediately available to you.

He was already pushing deep inside your mouth, but you do your best to relax your throat and surge forward, your nose brushing his pelvis as you choke yourself on his cock, then pull back to do it again. And again. A lewd, wet gurgle filling the room every time, your throat constricting as you strain around his thick shaft, tears burning in your eyes.

San groans at your renewed efforts, a greed shining in his sharp eyes when he realises what you’re doing, what you are asking him to do. His fingers scrape your scalp as they embed tighter around the strands of hair. Recognising the unspoken invitation to fuck your mouth as hard as he wants.

“That’s it,” he growls, “you know how I like it. Choke on my cock, hm? I’ll stuff you until you can’t breathe.”

You can barely breathe already; it’s hard to pull in air through your nose like this, with San steadily rocking his hips forward. You go slack in his hold, just letting him use you to his liking, trying to curl your tongue around the underside of his cock in the way you know drives him up the wall.

Wooyoung makes a noise when you slump down on his face, and you try to catch yourself but he won’t have it, only sucking more eagerly onto your clit as he grabs onto your thighs to keep you in place. You moan loudly, and San curses in response, his breath getting pitchy.

It’s working, you realise. It’s not as much as when he is asleep, but slowly a whiny lilt creeps into San’s voice as he uses your throat, his face contorted with pained pleasure.

Your head starts to spin, the barrage of sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Slick sounds and deep moans, a heady scent of arousal permeating the air. San’s cock obstructing your breath, his little whines; Wooyoung’s tongue nimbly flicking against your clit, his hands squeezing at the soft meat of your thighs. You’re tilting, slowly but surely, right over the edge when Wooyoung sucks harshly, exactly when San whimpers.

It hits you like a freight train, the violent force of it enough to have you sobbing around San’s cock. You tremble and shake as electricity surges through you, only held up by San and Wooyoung’s hold on you.

Your garbled cries take San over the edge with you, though he still has enough restraint to pull back slightly, no longer nudging against your gag reflex. He shudders with a tight hiss, clumsy fingers catching in your hair as he spills hot seed inside your mouth.

You almost choke again; it’s messy, and there is a lot, leaving you to wonder if San has been abstaining before the match. Lately you certainly haven’t done more with them than casual texts or hangouts, but can make no assumptions about what he and Wooyoung get up to when you’re not around.

You try your best not to swallow it down — and not spill a single drop, either. At the latter, you don’t succeed entirely, a thin wet trail dribbling down your lips when San pulls out and slumps back onto the couch with a final, loud groan. But when Wooyoung gets out from underneath to sit next to you, and pushes a thumb on your bottom lip to show him, you can proudly stick out your tongue to him, sticky whiteness on display.

“Good girl,” Wooyoung purrs, fondly cupping your cheek. “Don’t even need me to tell you anymore, huh? So well-behaved for us.”

You moan contently at the praise, and again when Wooyoung eagerly puts his lips on you, sloppily lapping up San’s cum from your chin, your lips, until his tongue invades your mouth for a proper meal. You can taste yourself on him while Wooyoung tastes San, who is watching it all with a small, cocky grin, teeth flashing at you.

Wooyoung lets out a needy moan as he drinks deep, his tongue sliding against yours in a heady dance. He grabs for your hand, guiding you down to his still-hard cock, hot and weeping precum. Your fingers are still messy and slick, making it easy for you to jerk him off while he continues to hungrily kiss you, licking up every last drop he can reach.

It’s less of a challenge to make Wooyoung whimper, but the sound is no less exciting for it, his high-pitched moans like music to your ears. He cums messily in your hand, some spilling onto your dress. With a final bite to your bottom lip, he pulls away from your mouth, eyes heavy-lidded and looking thoroughly fucked out, lips swollen and shiny from the essences of both you and San. You grin at him, lifting your hand to suck his cum off your fingers.

Only then do you turn to San, who is indulging himself with slow strokes on his cock while he still watches you and Wooyoung intently.

“Congratulations on the match,” you say casually, cum-stained fingers lingering on your lips.

San’s grin returns to his face and he grabs your hand to pull you into his lap…where you finally get to kiss that bruise on the corner of his mouth. He winces as you press up to him, and you can hear Wooyoung grouse next to you.

“Be careful with him, alright? That’s my meal ticket you got there,” he complains, dusting himself off as he gets back on his feet.

But San wraps his arms around you, keeping you captive. “You don’t have to be that careful,” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands firmly planted on your ass as he grinds you against his crotch. The night is not over quite yet.

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

An indeterminate time and a thorough shower later, you are sitting snugly between San and Wooyoung on their shabby old couch. They graciously borrowed you some clothes, leaving you cosily wrapped in a pair of San’s sweats and one of Wooyoung’s oversized hoodies. In your hands you have freshly delivered takeout, enjoying a hot meal together with the guys.

Their treat, of course.