#Quicken Technical Help

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Wondering ♡

♡ Pairings: frat boy!mingi x chubby!fem!librarian!reader

♡ Genre: angst/fluff/smut

♡ Summary: While working your job at the campus library you find that the most popular guy on campus has developed quite the crush on you. Thinking that it's some sort of prank, you dismiss him completely but Mingi has his heart set on making you his and isn't content to give up that easily.

♡ Word Count: 4.5k-ish

♡ Warnings: mingi really develops a thing for chubby girls, reader has body insecurities, body worship, kissing, male masturbation, porn, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, a lil hair pulling, a lil rough sex for a sec, technically cum marking, pet names (baby), but otherwise fluffy

♡ A/N: This is a fic I wrote for a super adorable anon and as always I'm super honored that you even asked me to write this my love. I truly hope that I did your idea some justice and you enjoy it. To all the chubby babes out there who may read this, you're a bad bitch, I swear to you, and if anyone tells you otherwise I'll swing on em. Kay, love you, bye - xoxo

Nothing. Mingi strokes his cock—his palm gliding up and down his length, his thumb circling the rim—and he feels absolutely nothing. Lying in the darkness of his bedroom, the warm glow of light emanating from his phone illuminates the frustration on his face. His gaze lazily dances across the screen where a woman lies naked, a sex toy vibrating between her thighs. She’s in his favorite position, making his favorite noises, but he can’t get off on it.

Giving up, he lets out a groan, throwing his head back on his pillow. It’s been weeks of this. He’s been too horny to function but when the time of action comes he can only get halfway hard and nothing feels the same as it used to. Maybe a different video will help. Bringing his phone in close to his face, he scrolls through the recommended videos. His cock still in his hand, he feels it soften into a sad, floppy thing the further down he scrolls.

Just as he’s about to call it a night, prepared to at last put himself out of his misery, something catches his eye. An image of a naked woman spread across a bed, her plush body fully exposed. She’s bigger than other girls he’s seen naked in porn, even in real life. She’s chubby and soft with shimmering gloss on her lips and stretch marks on her thighs. His breath hitches at the sensation of the blood rushing down his length as he takes her in.

His interest officially piqued, he clicks into the video and watches her in action. He’s hypnotized by the way she bounces and jiggles, every motion of her body too perfect to comprehend. The skin pulls tight around his cock, beads of arousal rolling down the tip as he quickens his movements. His bottom lip catches between his teeth, an attempt at choking back the low groans fighting their way up his throat at the sight of juices moistening the woman’s soft thighs.

Seeing her hits him with a rush of something unfamiliar. Something that has his stomach muscles contracting and his mouth watering. His mind goes wild with thoughts of what it’d be like to touch her, to feel her body trembling against his. What he wouldn’t give right now to grip a belly like that or drag his tongue across the plush of her ass. It’s exhilarating, unlike anything he’s ever felt before. His cock grows so sensitive that he’s twitching with every stroke. 

Any care for if his roommates can hear him flies out of the window as a dizzying heat washes over him, the veins along his length throbbing as a waterfall of white shoots up onto his stomach. His phone drops onto the bed and he lets out a pitiful whimper, his eyes clung shut as he gives in to an orgasm so strong it makes his muscles weak. He’s so high from it that he fears he’ll never come down. Breathless, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, he sits up in bed and flicks the light on to see what a mess he’s made of himself.

His eyes drift back to his phone where a suggestion for a similar video calls him. He takes a deep breath, feeling his cock stiffening again so soon. Mingi picks his phone up, his thumb hovering over the Next button. It’s 3am and in a few hours Yunho will be banging on his door to go to football practice. He should get his shit together, clean himself off, and go to sleep. But that rush was so unexpected, so utterly delicious. He slips back down into bed, hitting the Next button. He needs more.

“Whoa, there’s so many books here” Mingi gasps, staring up at the tall cherry wood shelves of the sprawling library. 

Mingi’s seen this place in pictures before—this marble palace with its sky high shelves and expertly crafted pillars—but in all his years on campus he’s never stepped foot in it. Nothing in this literary maze ever interested him enough to require a visit. His college career has always depended more on athletics and frat politics than it has books.

Most of his professors were more than content to give him a passing grade simply because of who he is. A stroke of luck that ran out the moment a new Women’s Studies professor stepped foot on campus. She’s set out to challenge him, to make him work for his grades if he actually wants them. A true tragedy if he’s ever been faced with one. 

“Duh, it’s full of books. It’s literally a library” Yunho laughs, plopping a small stack of books into Mingi’s arms. “I grabbed everything you need except one. The Vagina Monologues. You’re gonna have to go ask one of the librarians for help.” 

Mingi winces at the thought of the title leaving his lips and falling on a complete stranger’s ears, “Why’d it have to be called that?”

“Oh, stop being a child” Yunho huffs, catching a glimpse of a young woman pushing a cart of books past the aisle. “There! Go ask her!”

Mingi hesitates a moment but Yunho shoves him forward, “Off you go.” 

Stumbling his way down the aisle, Mingi traces the sound of squeaky cart wheels a few rows over, stopping dead in his tracks when his gaze finds the woman pushing it. She wears a flowy, pear colored dress with white lilies printed all over it. It’s long enough not to scandalize the other library staff but short enough to get a glimpse of where her thighs begin to kiss. From behind Mingi can clearly make out her shape in it, the plushness of her figure bringing to mind things he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about in the library. 

Humming along to a song in her head, she turns to place a book on one of the shelves and Mingi’s cheeks begin to burn. She’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. He’s said that about a lot of girls and never meant it but with this one it’s different. She has eyes that twinkle like sunshine dancing on the surface of some gorgeous lake. The curve of her nose is nothing short of perfection and her lips look like they taste of the sweetest sugar. 

“Can I help you with something?” you ask. The way he stares at you makes you feel more like an animal in some zoo than the object of his affection.

Mingi shakes himself out of his daze, lowering the stack of books down to cover the slight rise in his jeans. “Uh…I…yeah…um” he stutters. 

“Uh, I, yeah, um?” you tease, grabbing another book and sliding it onto a nearby shelf, “I don’t think we have that one.” 

“Who are you?” he spits out as if that’s a completely normal question to ask someone when you’re the one who approached them. 

“That’s a really weird question to ask someone, Mingi.”

“Wait, you know me?”

You giggle at the absurdity of such a question, “Of course I know you. Everyone knows you.” 

Mingi thinks about it for a second, the reality of his popularity setting back in. “I guess you’re right. I am pretty popular.”

The grin on his face makes you nauseous. Of course you know him. And of course he doesn’t know who you are. Mingi’s from a whole different world and you’re positive girls like you don’t exist where he comes from. Rolling your eyes, you grab back onto the handle of your cart, “If there’s nothing you need…” 

“Vagina!” he says, leaving you both stunned to the core, “I mean, monologues. Vagina Monologues. It’s, like, a book or whatever. Fuck it, are you busy tonight?” 

A whisper of laughter drifts down the aisle, giving away Yunho’s presence. He’s never seen his best friend crash and burn this hard. Keeping a straight face isn’t an option. Yunho’s laughter may not be meant for you but it feels like it is. The first time a guy like Mingi talks to you and of course it had to be a joke. 

“Second floor, in the Plays section, under E for Ensler” you snap, turning your back before you die of embarrassment right before Mingi’s eyes. 

“Wait, can I at least get your name?” Mingi calls out but you’re already pushing your cart down the aisle, disappearing around the next corner without another word. 

Yunho slaps a hand on Mingi’s shoulder, shaking his head in disappointment, “Who’s your new friend?”

Mingi sighs longingly, his gaze still lingering where you once stood, “I don’t know but I plan to find out.” 

Sometimes when you find yourself working nights at the library you feel like Cinderella. A slave to these old dusty books, forced to clean and organize them until your manicure begins to chip while other girls are out at bars or parties. Only there’s no fairy godmother to come wave her magic wand and turn your pumpkin into a carriage. There’s no glass slipper and certainly no Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet.

Still, you need the extra money so there’s nothing to be done about it. Taking a seat at the front desk you check the time, it’s almost time to close up shop and the last few stragglers are packing up their things to head out. Once they’re gone things should be peaceful. No questions, no interruptions, no one getting on your nerves. 

“Have you been avoiding me?” Mingi asks, popping up in front of your desk. 

“Oh my god!” you gasp, clutching your chest, “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Kill you? How could I ever hurt a girl as pretty as you?” he says in that cocky tone you’ve become accustomed to. 

It’s been weeks since your first run in with Mingi and he’s been relentless ever since. He stops by every shift to ask you some silly question that somehow always turns into yet another attempt at flirting with you. You shoot him down every single time but he never seems offended or discouraged. He just keeps coming back all bright eyed and full of energy like a golden retriever. You’ve gone home every night wondering what his motivations are. Why’s he being so persistent? 

Sometimes for the hell of it you let yourself play with the idea that he might actually be attracted to you. Mingi is drop dead gorgeous after all and, even though you refuse to laugh at any of his stupid jokes, you find him pretty charming. For all his cockiness, he’s sweet in a way that makes you wonder what it might be like to be truly adored by a guy like him. This little fantasy of yours is always disrupted by the vision of Yunho laughing at the two of you. It’s a joke, that’s all, a stupid joke that Mingi’s cruel for not knowing when to give up on. 

“Aren’t you sick of coming here?” you ask, pretending to be busy on the laptop, “There must be something else you can entertain yourself with.”

Mingi smiles down at you, fawning over how your skin glows in the shreds of sunset that peek through the windows. “There is actually. I’m having a party tonight and I want you to come.”

Your eyes shoot open, an involuntary burst of joy hitting you. “A party?” you ask, sounding more excited than you intended to. Catching yourself, you reel back the excitement but it’s too late, Mingi’s already caught it. 

“Yeah, a party” he says, reaching behind the desk to grab a pen and a sticky note. He scribbles down the address and sticks it to your laptop screen. “Tell me you’ll come.”

He sounds so genuine when he says that. It’s almost as if he’s truly desperate to have you around. You look up at his face and feel the butterflies in your stomach go into a frenzy. You’ve heard the way other girls talk about him, the way they swoon over him like he’s this magical thing. You don’t want to be one of them, just another girl pining after Song Mingi but here you are. 

You clear your throat, snatching the blue sticky note from your screen, and putting it aside. “I don’t really know if I wanna spend my Friday night with a bunch of wasted pretty boys.”

“Ooh, so you do think I’m pretty” Mingi blushes, batting his eyelashes. 

You pick up a stapler, threatening to throw it at him, “Leave now and maybe, just maybe I’ll consider coming to your little party.”

Mingi throws his hands up, carefully backing away from the desk, “Fair enough. I’m wearing all black by the way. In case you wanted to, ya know, match or something.”

You wind your arm back, placing it in perfect formation to hit him in the head with the stapler. Mingi gets the message and scurries out of the door, leaning his head back in for a split second to whisper, “See you later, beautiful.” He winks at you and you groan but he’s gone now and there’s no one left to take your anger out on.

As the last few visitors trickle out you find yourself sitting in the silence of the library, that blue sticky note calling your name. You pick it up, swearing you’ll toss it in the trash but you only stare at it, reading the address over and over again. Some stupid frat party with a bunch of stupid boys at some frat house on the edge of campus. Why would you ever waste your time going to something like that? And who does he think he is insinuating that you’d even want to match with him? Anyway, you only have one good black dress and you’re sure it doesn’t even fit anymore. It isn’t even worth trying…is it?

“I’m telling you, this girl’s gorgeous and she’s super smart too. She knows everything about books and stuff, like, you can ask her anything and she just knows” Mingi rambles, grabbing another beer from the fridge. 

“Because it’s her job” Yunho teases, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

Mingi pops the beer open, flicking the metal top into a nearby trash can, “And how did she get that job? Because she’s smart.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen him like this over a girl…ever” Jongho says, stealing Mingi’s beer for himself.

“Well I think it’s cute. Mingi’s got a girlfriend” Wooyoung sings, making cute little hearts with his fingers.

“She’d be his girlfriend if she didn’t hate his guts” Yunho mumbles half heartedly. 

Mingi gasps, taking offense to that, “She doesn’t hate me, she just hasn’t fully warmed up to me yet but she will.”

He looks around the kitchen and his friends all eye him skeptically. Mingi didn’t say that with nearly enough confidence for them to believe him and the truth is that he barely believes himself but how does he tell his friends that? He’s the one who girls drool over. He’s never the one doing the drooling. He has a reputation at stake and here he is ruining it for a girl who probably won’t even show up tonight. But he can’t bring himself to give up on you yet. 

That first night after he met you he couldn’t get you out of his head. He kept imagining that face, that body, under him, on top of him, next to him. Just the thought of you made him hard enough that touching himself was mandatory to ease his need for you. And the more he showed up to bug you the more fascinating he came to find you.

Yes, you were snippy but never enough to directly chase him away. You let him stick around long enough for glimmers of your true personality to show. You’d made the terrible mistake of showing him how sweet you could be, how funny of a girl you are, and it only made things worse for both of you. More than having sex with you he wants to kiss you and hold your hand. He wants to tell you how pretty you are and not have you threaten him with a blunt object for it. 

“Not to be that guy but when did you start liking…ya know?” Jongho says, hoping that the others will know what he means without it coming off rude.

“Chubby girls?” Wooyoung asks, making Yunho almost choke on his beer. 

“You can’t just say that” Yunho coughs, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the beer from his lips. 

Mingi’s eyes narrow, the question not quite setting right with him, “What does it matter?” 

“I mean, it…it doesn’t. I swear it doesn’t” Jongho stammers, looking anywhere but at Mingi. 

Wooyoung shrugs, coming to Jongho’s rescue, “In his defense, we’ve never seen you with one. She’s not your usual type.”

“So, what? Just cause she’s not my ‘type’ it has to be weird?” Mingi presses. 

No one says anything, not a solitary word. They only stare at the doorway, their faces drained of any color. In the next room a party rages, in the kitchen an argument is ready to erupt, and there you stand in between the two hearing something you shouldn’t have at a time you shouldn’t have heard it. 

“Hmm, well, thank you for that. I’m so happy everyone knows what I already did” you say, laughing to avoid tears, “Thank you for the invite, Mingi. Really.” 

Something’s said, you’re sure it’s by Mingi, but you can’t hear it. You’ve gone numb to everything. Even the music blaring from the speakers a few feet from you feels like it’s playing from miles away. Desperate to outrun the tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you rush through the crowd of partiers in the living room and make your way outside.

The autumn air blows against your cheeks, cooling your tears as they begin to escape. You wipe them away, doing your best to look normal as you pass people headed into the party, but you can’t seem to stop them from falling. You feel so stupid for ever believing that Mingi’s feelings for you were anything but a joke he could laugh about with his friends. His words ring in your ears as you approach your car, frantically digging through your purse for your keys. Not his type? Well he isn’t yours either. You’ve never been too fond of assholes anyway. 

“Shit” you hiss, the keys in your hand tumbling from your grasp the second you pull them out. You bend down to pick them up but someone snatches them away before you can. You spin around to find Mingi standing there, your keys jingling away as they twirl around his fingers. 

“Give them back” you demand, grabbing for your keys but he holds them up high just out of your reach. 

“You’re crying” he says and you can almost see his heart shatter, “Come back inside.”

“Why? So you and your friends can make fun of me to my face this time?” you ask, still fighting for your keys back but to no avail. 

Mingi frowns, “Make fun of you? We weren’t making fun of you. I’d never let anyone do that to you.” 

“So, what? Just cause she’s not my type it has to be weird?” you mock, feeling childish but justified considering the circumstances. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that just because I’ve dated smaller girls that doesn’t mean I can’t like you and I do. I really, really like you” he swears, “I love your body. I think it’s beautiful. Everything about you…I’m just obsessed with and all I wanna do is show you how special you are but you won’t let me and I don’t understand why.”

Folding your arms across your chest, you stand on the sidewalk staring at Mingi like you hate him but it’s not him that you hate. It’s the fact that you believe him. The tears have slowed now but your cheeks are still wet, black streaks of mascara beginning to run down your face. You drop your head, embarrassed by your mini breakdown, and Mingi swoops in, giving you a chest to lay your head on. His long arms wrap around you, locking behind your back to keep you close. It’s your instinct to pull away but his embrace is too comforting and warm to abandon. 

“If you want me to leave you alone forever I promise I will. I’ll let you go and you’ll never have to see me again” he whispers, “But if you stay I promise I’ll be good to you.” 

Your stomach sinks at the thought of never seeing him again. Day after day all you’ve done is tell him to leave you alone but it never occurred to you how much it’d hurt if he actually did. “I don’t want you to leave me alone” you admit, your face emerging from the black abyss of his shirt, “That’s, like, the exact opposite of what I want you to do.”

Mingi cups your face, his thumb stroking the curve of your cheek, “Good because I wasn’t actually gonna leave you alone. How can I when you look like this? You’re even a pretty crier. How’s that possible?”

You’ve always managed not to blush when Mingi’s said things like this—at least not when he’s around—but you don’t stop yourself this time. You don’t even make the tiniest attempt at hiding how utterly giddy you are over his comments. 

“Ooh, is that a smile I see?” he gasps, immediately making you regret it. You motion to hit him in the arm but he grabs you by the wrist, slipping his hand into yours as he leads you back towards the house. “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll clean you up then we can talk more, okay?”

Mingi looks back at you and you could swear that time stands still. This isn’t where you thought you’d be on a Friday night, walking through a frat party hand in hand with one of the most popular guys on campus—with Mingi. He’s guiding you up the stairs, looking at you like you’re the prettiest girl in the world and for the first time, somewhere deep down inside, you’re beginning to feel like it. 

Before you left the house tonight you swore that you wouldn’t become some frat party cliche. Mingi’s hot, there’s no doubt about it, but there was no way you’d wind up bent over some bed with your panties around your ankles.

You were actually right about that. You’re not bent over some bed, you’re laying across it, and your panties aren’t around your ankles, they’re tossed off to the side of the bed, blending in with the pile of black clothing you collectively shed before you found every inch of Mingi’s cock stuffed inside of you. You came up here to talk, that was it, and in your defense you did talk. You were vulnerable with each other, you opened up about your feelings, and the next thing you knew your tongues were so far in each other’s mouths that you could feel it in your throats. 

Mingi’s kiss is sweeter than you imagined. It’s the kind of kiss you could get lost in it. Even now, after he’s been kissing your lips raw for the last half hour, you find yourself wanting more. You’re so wrapped up in him, so completely consumed by the ecstasy of having him inside of you, that you aren’t even focused on the fact that you’re naked. You can’t begin to care if you look good or not when your body’s flush with heat, feeling the best it has in your entire life.

But you do look good. Nothing in Mingi’s wildest dreams could compare to how beautiful your body actually is. His hands explore your curves, discovering those spots he knows will come to be his favorites. That squishy belly of yours that pokes out just a bit more when he massages your sides. Those pillowy thighs that seem even thicker when he presses them to your chest. Those breasts that bounce softly against his face while he’s sucking at your bud.

“You’re so fucking amazing, baby” Mingi whispers, licking his way over the hills of your breasts to bring his lips to yours. “I do have a type. You know it’s you, right?”

“Is that so?” you tease, trembling at every stroke of his cock between the slickness of your walls. You run your fingers through his hair, your back arching against the mattress so much that you’re sure you’d float away if the weight of Mingi’s body weren’t pinning you down.

Mingi kisses you like a starved man whose hunger can only be satisfied by the taste of you. “Mmm, can’t you tell?” he hums between sloppy kisses, “Can’t you feel it?” 

He snaps his hips into you and you let out a moan that makes you grateful for the loud music blaring downstairs. Keeping his lips locked to yours, one hand gripping your hip and the other cradling your face, he thrusts into you harder. Hard enough to make the bed creak. Hard enough to make your walls clench tighter. Hard enough to have you tugging his hair, moaning between his lips while your decadent juices drip down his length.

Mingi groans, holding you even tighter as the head of his cock rides the ridges of your sweet spot. Your insides are so spongy and wet, clenching around him just right. There’s no way he can go back to masturbating after this. The thought of you won’t be enough. Fantasies are absolutely nothing compared to what it’s like to truly feel you under him and around him. 

“Mingi, mmm, gonna cum” you whimper, your eyes wide and glossy as you look up at him. 

You sound so cute when you say it that he loses his sanity for a second, his hips stuttering before picking up the rhythm again. Mingi slips both hands behind your neck, deepening the kiss as he bottoms out completely. Heat pools behind your belly, spreading through your body until you’re sure flames are dancing at your fingertips. Your body tenses, a weak little moan falling from your lips before your vision goes blurry and your high washes over you. 

“That’s it, good girl” Mingi coos, basking in the warmth enveloping him, “So pretty when you cum all over my cock. Always so pretty.” 

Your walls are pulsing, fluttering wildly around his swollen cock. Your cum just pours down him, making every movement slippery wet. He can’t take it anymore. He couldn’t hold back even if he tried. 

“Aah, fuck” he hisses, pulling out of you just in time to paint your inner thighs in white, leaving ropes of cum dripping dangerously close to your core. 

Completely destroyed by your orgasm, you’re plastered to the bed and can only watch as Mingi catches his breath, immediately going to work planting kisses all over your body. He kisses the places you love and the places you hate. He worships them all with his lips because to him they’re perfect in every way.

You surrender yourself to the reality of that, letting the lingering adoration from each kiss sink into your skin. Mingi’s yours, he has been since he first laid eyes on you in that library, all you ever had to do was let yourself have him. 

[monstersflashlight]

I’m new so I’m not sure if anyone asked already but can we pleaseee get a part two of magic dick???

A/N: The story they are referencing can be read here (it’s one of my favs). The cock-ring mentioned in the story is not exactly a sex-toy, is more like a magic bracelet that can be decoration most of the time and can be also used as a sex-toy when the one putting it on wants it to be.

Magic dick: what’s more romantic than a glory hole?

Non-identified monster x fem!reader || glory hole (technically), free use (kinda?), sex toys, oral sex, dirty talk

You slip inside the dark room again, your body completely melting as soon as you’re inside, closing the door behind you and making sure you’re alone for as long as you want. Well, probably not long seeing as your pussy is already dripping at the thought of sucking his dick again (even if you just did yesterday).

The scary purple and green monster who you sucked last time turned out to be your soulmate, which was a big surprise for both of you… a really good surprise. You’re just a human, so you didn’t feel it to the extent he did, but you were definitely very horny for him.

So sucking him off turned into dating, and today you planned something special. You knew monsters didn’t do weddings, but you wanted to, and what better way to propose than wrapping a cock-ring around him in the very place you two met? You told him you’d be there, not specifying the time, but told him to be prepared.

You know full well he’s at the other side of the wall, and you are rewarded by the sight of his pretty cock in the same hole he was the first time, your heart beating as fast as it did back then.

It’s been a while since you two were here together. He’s still working in the club pairing people with their soulmates, but nowadays he doesn’t use his dick. He could if he wanted, you told him so, but he said he was happier when he could save all his come for you. Well, you couldn’t complain about that when he had you impaled on his dick as he fucked creampie after creampie inside of you.

You fall to your knees in front of his dick, wrapping your hand around him as he groans. “Hi there, I hope you don’t mind if I help myself here,” you repeat the same words you said the first time, hearing the chuckle from the other side of the wall. “Come on, you said you’d play along,” you complain, squeezing his shaft and making him whimper.

“Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes. I’ll play along, I’ll do whatever you want, darling. Just… Please,” his begging always makes you extra hot. “I can smell how turned on you are from just this. Good goddess, darling, I can’t wait to fuck you properly.”

You want to remind him to play along, but as he keeps talking you don’t exactly care if he does, just as long as he continues spitting filthy words across the wall. You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking hard enough to make him cry out.

You smile around his length, bobbing your head until he’s pleading for you to do more, filthy words leaving his mouth: “You smell so good, so fucking ripe for me. You smell like my dream come true. You know when you smell the best, though? When I’ve used your pussy so thoroughly that you can’t walk or move. When I can stare at my come leaking out of your abused hole. Then you smell fucking perfect.”

You feel your face growing hot, your whole body shivering at the intensity of his tone as you massage his balls with one hand, dropping the other between your legs. This time you aren’t wearing panties, already knowing they would get destroyed if you did.

You rub your pussy as you suck him off, his breathing erratic as your pace quickens, his little pleas and moans making you so wet it runs down your wrist and onto the floor. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucking horny as his dick twitches inside your mouth. It’s almost choking you as you let out a strangled moan around him.

When he’s about to come, you slip the gold cock-ring over his dick. You ordered it from a witch, specifically made just for him, so it fits perfectly around his girth and responds to your will. He lets out the most whorish moan, and you have to take your fingers away from your clit not to come right there.

“Fuck, darling, what is that?” He tries to pull back a little, but you suck him harder, further down your throat, and he lets out a strangled curse. “Fuck, fuck, holy shit… Darling, please…”

You pull back just enough to spit on his tip, using your saliva and his copious precum to jerk him off, knowing he’s most likely unable to come right now. Before you let him finish, you have to ask one more question: “Will you marry me? The human way?” Your voice is deep, rough and totally fucked out after deep-throating him, which only makes the moment even more intense.

“Wha- what? Fuck, darling, yes. Yes. Yes. Whatever you want. Whenever you want,” his voice is utterly fucked and desperate, and you dig that.

You return your fingers between your legs, rubbing your clit frantically as you drive his dick back down your throat, bobbing your head sloppily as you moan around his shaft and he spills all kinds of filth and curses at the other side of the wall.

You’re so close you’re about to burst, so you will the cock-ring to let him release at the same time that you pinch your clit with enough force to send you over the edge. You moan around him as he empties himself down your throat. The sweet taste of his come sends a new wave of pleasure down your spine, your juices gushing down your thighs.

“Were you for real?” He asks after a beat, his white eye appearing in the hole his dick was just in. You have to swallow the laughter trying to escape. “Do you want to? To marry me the human way?” You nod, unable to talk just yet. “Wait there,” he says as you chuckle, getting up and walking out of the room. You see him appearing at the end of the hallway, just like the day you meet. “I’ll marry you, my mate,” he says as he grabs you by the waist, picking you up so he can kiss you senseless.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

57 / 3.2k / medic reader + Ghost + coworkers with benefits (part 1 here)

kinktober keywords: subtextual authority kink, workplace smut, rivals to rivals who fuck, coworkers with benefits?, voyeurism, edging, fingering, distracted sex, anxious sex

...

As soon as you lay back--before your back can meet the bed--Simon's hands are gripping your hips, your waist, pulling you higher on the bed, situating you the way he wants.

You’re already breathless by the time he's handled you. You stare up at him, flushed and embarrassed at your uneven breathing.

As he guides you into a comfortable position, he can feel the tension in you, the way you tense up and the way your breath comes in short, frantic bursts. "Breathe. That's it." His voice is a warm, comforting murmur.

Then he slides his hands to your thighs. His rough palms send heat to your core, and you can't help how wet it makes you. You shift, breath stopping altogether in your throat as he moves your thighs in his hands, coaxing them up and open.

A dozen catastrophic thoughts whirl around your mind, but you don't quite voice any of them. The feeling of his hands is just enough to keep you focused. You let your eyes slide closed and try to make your body relax in his hands.

He doesn't rush, Simon. But he's efficient. He puts in just enough time with your thighs--squeezing, rubbing up and down, letting his hands wander from your hips all the way to the backs of your knees--to make you pliant. You barely notice him slide your skirt up to your hips and remove the cloth barrier between him and your heat.

nsfw ⬇

He can tell you're overwhelmed. His sense of pride swells as he watches you trust him anyway. He waits for you to relax a little more before dragging his hands to your inner thighs. He slides his fingers up slowly, an agonizing crawl, until he finally reaches your heat.

The way his fingers press into your folds and his touch causes your muscles to loosen is more than enough to have you shifting around on your back, letting out a soft groan. You can't keep from twitching.

He takes notice of it. He’s careful not to show how gratifying it. His pupils dilate.

 Every single movement he makes, down to the smallest gesture, adds to the unbearable heat building in the pit of your stomach. With his every touch, he slowly, agonizingly reminds you how badly you need this. He isn't gentle. Not rough, either, although you get the sense he could be. Instead, his movements are practiced. Focused. Technical. You try to match him. You focus on the release you want, trying to help him by speeding things along. You swallow the sounds that threaten to tear out of your throat. The walls are thin, you remind yourself. Just focus on what you both need to do.

The tension starts to build, and you let your breathing quicken. Every little touch feels like it's bringing you closer and closer to your breaking point. The sensation of his fingers stroking you, homing in on that sensitive bundle of nerves, sends electricity up your spine.

Your nerves begin to light up in his hands, and your body responds even more sharply as Simon begins getting a little rougher. He doesn't want to hurt you--he wants to drive you over the edge and give you what you need.

He wants you to moan, to squirm, to cry, to let it all out in front of him. And he's not going to stop until you do.

"Talk to me, love." His voice is husky, punctuated by the wet sounds of his fingers. "Let me know what you like."

His words send another flood of heat straight to your core. Your muscles twitch and pulse and clench around nothing. Your legs start to tremble. Desperation threatens to scatter the few frayed thoughts left in your mind. His fingers work you over faster, small circles growing faster and harsher. He knows you’re close.

God, he's wanted to see you like this for so long. You look starved. Your legs tremble. your hands grip the sheets. Despite how you try to control yourself, your hips move in circles, desperate to work against his hand. As your breath grows more ragged, his hands work faster, rougher. He wants to hear you moan for him. His eyes blaze with heat as he watches you struggle to keep control. He wants you bucking and twisting, desperate to reach your climax. He wants to be the one who feels you fall apart on his hand.

You want it too. You see feel how hard he's working to get you there. But as close as you are, you can't reach it. The anxiety is still there. You’re too inside your own head, worrying that you won't finish, that you’re boring him, that this is a selfish inconvenience.

You try to banish those thoughts. But the further you try to push them down, the more they build. A groan of frustration leaves your lips as you slow, settling back into the bed. "I can't," you mutter.

He stares down at you. The frustration etched in your expression sends a pang of guilt through the pit of his chest. He watches as the anxiety takes you over, slowing your breath and undoing the intoxicating tension he'd bound up in your body. You're barely moving now. You're already resigned to ending it here. Frustration sweeps over him.

"Can't?" He tries to speak like he's not desperate to push you harder, rougher, to rail you into the mattress right now. He leans forward and lets his fingers slow but not entirely still. Is there something else bothering you? Is he not doing something right? Are you thinking of someone else?

But those questions won't help. You're overthinking already. Despite that, he can't accept that it ends here. He'll fight to keep you under him, even if you’re already resigned.

"That's alright," he murmurs. "You don't have to finish, hm? Just get yourself used to my fingers. How does this feel?"

You turn your head to the side, feeling a pang of irritation. He should just leave well enough alone. You tell yourself that, not him, because deep down you know it's an excuse. You hate that sinking feeling of disappointment, shame, self-blame. You should be able to finish, you just... can't focus.

You open your mouth to tell him off, but when he presses just a bit harder, picks up his pace just a bit more, your voice dissolves into a breathy groan.

"It feels good," you admit, your eyes fluttering closed again. "But I can't... can't get where I need to... be..." you trail off, distracted by the way his fingers circle and press that bud. Your hips move of their own volition again. It feels nice, the oxytocin washing through you. You don't want it to end. Maybe if he says you don't need to finish, it's okay for him to keep going a little longer. Just a little.

He glances down, repositioning his hand, but his gaze is snagged by your folds. Your flushed, glistening folds, dripping fluid down his hand, coating your thighs. He was so busy watching your reaction and reading your tells that he didn't realize just how goddamn wet you are.

Your heat is so inviting. He knows he shouldn't--knows he should be restrained, be clinical, at least for now--but resisting that dark impulse is impossible. His fingers stray from your clit to your slit, sliding up and down, feeling you pulse with need.

He muffles a groan, part sympathy and part lust. You really do need this. You need someone to help you. And he's nothing if not a problem-solver, right? He's the man for the job. He'll find out what you like, what makes you comfortable, what makes you cum your goddamn brains out.

You stretch your hips down with a small sigh, not quite having the presence of mind to protest as his fingers slip inside of you. The heat in your core builds in small amounts, enough to intensify the pleasurable feeling but not enough to make you feel like you’re losing control of yourself.

"Simon, you okay?" you ask, knowing he's been at it for awhile now. His hands must be tired. His wrists must be cramping. You don't want this to become a burden before he feels like he can speak up. Meanwhile, you shift, spreading slightly wider to give him more room, and let your hips glide back and forth at his pace. His fingers are impressively dexterous, even with a moving, slippery target.

God, your voice. Breathy. You don't know what it does to him. His mouth goes dry before he can respond, heat running up his spine as you spread your legs wider for him. You're relaxing. You trust him. He can't let you know how badly he wants to devour you. The way you grip his fingers makes him want to climb the walls. The way you stretch your body out right in front of him and slide your hips down on his hand makes him want to force your thighs all the way open and bury his face between them.

He keeps his voice even. His desperation can wait until he gets back to his bunk, he tells himself. "Perfectly fine. You're doing well. Stunning." The word slips out before he can stop it. He quickly moves on.. "This feel good?"

"Yes," you tell him. Short and simple. If you talk too much, you won’t be able to keep your voice down.

You should be trying to relax, wind down, and let this end naturally. But then the calloused pads of his fingertips run over a sensitive spot. You jolt and hiss in a sharp breath.

He sees it--the way your face tightens and you press your breath out. You're getting overstimulated and trying to rein yourself in. Trying too hard. He recognizes it as the usual clinical approach you prefer when it comes to the field. You're keeping your voice down, breathing evenly, avoiding the temptation to let yourself get too noisy or lose too much control.

He can’t quite find it in himself to admire your self-restraint. No, he doesn't want you to relax. He wants to see you undone.

His fingers press harder, a rougher stroke, and you jerk more harshly than the last time. "Is that where you like it?" he asks.

You grab his hand. "Nnh..."

He starts to pull his hand away, but you push his hand closer. He leans over you to stare down at your hand wrapped around his. The tangle of calloused fingers coated in slick feels strangely more intimate than erotic.

You begin to undulate your hips and grind against his hand. Your breath hitches. He's got you figured out. You don't say it, but your responses indicate you're getting closer to where you want to be. You just couldn't focus. Now you're helping him help you.

You drop all pretense of propriety and chase the high. Calls of encouragement spring out of your throat. They turn needy. You rut your hips desperately against his hand.

Simon has to dig his free hand into the sheets, and fight the urge to push you down and hold you there. It takes every ounce of restraint. He's never seen you this open. All that time spent watching your back, working with you, learning how to anticipate you--as much as he wanted this, he never saw himself with you like this.

But he shouldn't think that way. Right? This is nothing. Stress relief. Trust in your lieutenant. Implicit, privileged trust.

He works his fingers faster, rougher, more beseechingly against your soft inner walls. "Come on," he growls, voice raw. "Come on. Let it out."

You grit your teeth in frustration. You need more somehow. You need his rough palm to stop slipping around your sensitive nub and press harder. Need his fingers deeper. You push yourself against his hand. He leans forward on instinct--so you don't have to move, so he can give you more--and feels a shiver roll down his spine as he does. But the more your pretenses fall away, the more he struggles to hold his own back.

His goddamn knees feel weak. You grinding against his fingers is enough to make him want to pant like a dog.

But this is a transaction. Not personal. You're not making it there and he needs to know why. "Use your words," he growls.

You groan in frustration. You're a little beyond words at the moment.

"Eyes up, medic. Tell me what you need," he demands hoarsely. His voice is raw and low. He doesn't know whether to sound encouraging or commanding--both are what he needs you to be. He presses harder with his fingers, stroking you faster. "You need just this, like this?" Another press. "Or do you need more?"

That drop into his lieutenant voice makes you tense up. You look up at him with a weak glare. Is he serious? Ordering you around right now?

The heated frustration in your glare just pushes him to press you harder. He’d dead serious; he doesn't back down. He's made up his mind that he'll see you come apart at the seams. He'll be relentless until he's figured out how to do it perfectly.

He leans in, pressing you down, his lips at your ear. "I need to know what you need. Or I can't help you. So tell me."

You swallow, throat dry. "I don't know if I can."

Cop-out. You just love making things difficult.

"Don't bullshit me," he snaps. Tension in his shoulders stiffens his fingers. "You know what you need. Tell me how to get you there."

"You said I didn't have to," you retort as meanly as you can right now.

There it is. The prickly smartassery he can't stand. Even in his hands and at his mercy. "I changed my mind. I'm your lieutenant. It's my job to help you."

"You're not my fucking therapist."

"My job to push you, then."

The way he argues with you while his fingers are still pumping in and out of you--speeding up, you'd swear--raises more heat from the pit of your stomach. One thing you two have in common: you're stubborn. He's going to give you what you need, by God. Even if he has to convince you that you still need it.

You try to ignore how much that thought turns you on.

But Simon can tell. There's more heat than anger on your face. Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes are wild, and he knows it's not rage alone.

You try to hold his glare. "Fine. Just... ah..." Your eyes flutter closed. Your hips buck up against his hand before you can stop it.

The way that stubbornness starts to dissolve away--that, and the way your hips buck up--makes him want to salivate. "Good work," he murmurs. "Keep going. Work with me."

"Focus on stimulating my g-spot," you manage. Then you reach down and begin working your clit with two fingers. You're all business.  

Simon can't help but be a little jealous of the way you touch yourself. He wants to feel what your hands can do. At the same time, he'd give anything to have you under him like this without the pretense--but you'd never let yourself do something so unprofessional.

It's that damn professional tone that really gets to him. The way you deal him orders like the field medic you are, even now. Not commanding, not begging--but direct. Clear and concise, like you speak to him when you’re working together.

"Good," he says. "That's good. Focus."

His hand shifts and he works his fingers faster, rougher. A little too rough. You want something more direct? He can do direct.

You arch off the bed at the sudden overstimulation. "Fuck, Simon--" You grab his fingers to force him to slow down. "Don't fucking hammer me!"

"I'm doing what you asked. If you want me to be gentle, use your words."

"Not gentle, just..." You huff and release his fingers. "A little softer. Match my pace."

He can't help but smirk as you command him. You're not used to him falling in line, are you? He eases up and strokes the bundle of nerves inside you with the same rhythm you roll your fingers. "Like this?"

"Yeah." You let out a sigh that dissolves into a soft moan. "Yeah."

"Good show." He murmurs. So good. Simon's stomach tightens. The way your body twists makes him want to bend you in ways you'd never let him do. You have him in the palm of your hand. He’s doing exactly what you want, matching your fingers perfectly, as you have him so easily wrapped around them. It's on the tip of his tongue to ask you if you want more than his fingers, but he squelches it.

You focus on the feeling of pleasure building up in the base of your spine. Soon, your body is moving of its own volition, riding his fingers, wanting the feeling so badly it's willing to pretend this is normal.

"That's right," he murmurs. "Nice and easy." You're almost there. He can feel it. He doesn't know which of you needs you to come more at this point. You've been frustrated for weeks. He's never so badly wanted someone else to use him for their own relief.

You seize up sharply, arch, and cry out as the first wave hits you. You keep working yourself--you have to wring as much pleasure out of this as you possibly can, fingers slipping as they circle your bud furiously.

At the sounds you make, it takes every ounce of self-control Simon has not to close his teeth around your throat.

With his help, you work yourself through the feeling slowly. It was sorely, sorely needed, and when it fades, you let yourself collapse into the creased sheets and close your eyes.

You seem so worn out and satisfied, Simon thinks. It's a good look. He carefully slides his fingers out of you as your breath slows. You'll be asleep in moments if he doesn't disturb you.

He should leave. You've been taken care of. You'd certainly make him leave if you weren't too breathless to speak. But he can't will himself to go just yet. A little selfishly, he wants to enjoy the sight of you like this a minute longer. He sits in silence as you catch your breath. He'd never admit it, but he's smitten. Just hormones, surely. The feeling will fade.

After a moment, he clears his throat. "Satisfied?"

"Mmhmm." The sound is almost a purr. It makes something warm spread in his belly.

Your flushed cheeks, the soft look on your face, your mussed hair, eyes closed, lips parted, flushed cheeks, hair tousled in the sheets--you're so vulnerable and open. His gaze trails down to the slick gleaming on his fingers.

He should go. He needs to clean himself up.

He stands up. You turn onto your side, your back to him. "This never happened, then?"

He nods curtly. "Never happened."

"Good." You fidget with the corner of your pillowcase. "But thanks."

He'll take it.

"Anytime," he murmurs. "Get some rest, medic."

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Ghost / masterlist

[itsnesss]

I just read the Ollie comfort fic and I need morrreee!!! can we please get a Kimi version of reader comforting him after a bad race panic attack?

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 | kimi antonelli × fem!reader

summary | after the race, you find Kimi hiding, overwhelmed and struggling to breathe. he’s having a panic attack, and you help calm him down

warnings | fluff, angst, panic attack, anxiety, emotional distress, panic

word count | 0.9 k

🖇 more ka12 🖇 f1 masterlist

The roar of the engines still vibrates in your chest, even though the race ended minutes ago.

You’re standing by the garage, arms crossed over your chest, trying to ignore the cold sweat running down your back. You saw it. You saw it in the last lap. Kimi wasn’t okay.

It wasn’t a technical error. It wasn’t a bad strategy. It was him. Something in his eyes.

“Where is he?” you ask one of the engineers, who barely glances at you before shrugging.

“He said he needed a moment. He’s in the hospitality.”

But you know that’s not normal. Kimi doesn’t disappear after a race. Especially not when he’s finished on the podium. Especially not when everyone expects a smile, a word, a simple “grazie.”

He didn’t do it this time.

You quicken your pace, dodging reporters, cables, and metal boxes. No one seems to notice the tension on your face, but inside, your heart beats as loudly as if you were the one who got out of the car.

You push open the hospitality door without announcing yourself. The place is almost empty. Only he is there.

Sitting on the floor, back against the wall, legs drawn up.

His helmet lies beside him. His racing suit still half unzipped. His elbows resting on his knees, and his hands... his hands are tangled in his own hair, trembling.

Kimi Antonelli doesn’t tremble.

But now he does.

You freeze for a second. Just one. Then he raises his head and looks at you.

And there it is.

Fear.

“Kimi...” your voice is a whisper, as if any louder sound could break him completely.

He doesn’t answer.

He just closes his eyes and clenches his fists tighter, as if trying to hold something inside. But he can’t. Not this time.

You see it. His chest rises and falls too fast. There’s a stiffness in his shoulders that doesn’t match his usual composure. His lips are parted, searching for air that seems not to come.

You take a step toward him.

“Hey... Kimi, look at me,” you crouch down in front of him, not daring to touch him yet. “You’re okay, right? Just... breathe with me, please.”

He shakes his head. Just a slight movement, but enough to make the lump rise in your throat. His eyes are watery, terrified, lost in something you can’t see.

“I can’t,” he pants. “I can’t breathe...”

Your heart shrinks.

Without thinking twice, you reach out and gently place your hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze to you.

“You’re breathing,” you whisper. “Just very fast. Let’s do it together, okay? I’m with you.”

You inhale slowly and deeply, exaggerating the movement so he can follow you. The first time, he doesn’t manage it. The second, a little better. The third, his breathing starts to sync with yours, though his hands still tremble.

You pull him closer, without hesitation.

Your arms wrap around him, and finally, he lets himself fall. He rests his forehead on your shoulder, searching for something to hold onto—something, you. His breathing is still shaky but no longer sounds like a silent scream.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice broken, trembling.

“You’re having a breakdown,” you reply, stroking his hair calmly. “And that’s okay, Kimi. I’m here.”

He says nothing. He just clings to you.

As if the world weighs heavier than he can bear.

And you decide to hold him.

Minutes pass in silence. Only the faint sound of the air conditioning, his still uneven breath, and the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

You don’t let go. You don’t move.

And neither does he.

Until, very slowly, Kimi pulls away just a little. Enough to look at you, though he keeps one hand gripping your arm as if letting go would mean sinking again.

“I’m sorry...” he murmurs, voice breaking. “I don’t know what happened.”

Your gaze softens.

“You don’t have to know everything now.”

He looks away, frustrated.

“I felt... fine. Or so I thought. But on the last lap... it was like my mind shut down. I couldn’t hear the radio. I couldn’t think. And when I crossed the line, it got worse. I felt like... like I couldn’t get out of myself.”

You take his hand slowly and intertwine your fingers with his. It’s cold. And still trembling a little.

“And now?”

Kimi swallows. He doesn’t answer right away. He just looks down at your hand, as if it’s the first time he’s noticed you’re holding it.

“Now... I’m just scared it’ll happen again. That everyone will notice. That I won’t be able to control anything.” He pauses, his lips barely moving. “That I’ll fail.”

Your heart tightens hard. Not for what he says, but for what he doesn’t allow himself to say.

“You didn’t fail, Kimi,” you whisper. “Your body is just telling you something’s wrong. And it’s okay to listen. No one expects you to be perfect.”

He shakes his head.

“They do.”

“I don’t.”

That makes him look at you again. His eyes, still wet, lock onto yours with something that mixes relief, disbelief, and something deeper. Something broken that is finally starting to show its cracks.

“Thank you for staying,” he whispers.

“I always will,” you answer.

And then, without warning, without any words before, he rests his forehead against yours.

He’s not trembling anymore.

But you know the fear hasn’t gone away.

It’s just found a safe place to hide for a while.

[enhaven]

busy ⤑ sjy (m.)

pairing: jake x reader

genre: fluff, smut, pwp, established relationship

wc & rating: 1.5k | 18+

summary: jaeyun’s bored out of his mind so he wants to play….but you seemed to be so busy.

warnings: cursing, groping, cockwarming, reverse cowgirl, unprotected sex, doggy lmao, orgasm delay/denial

a/n: a quick one (again) from my hoodie collection cuz i've been missing him oml while i work on longer fics. also this is unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!!

Several deep sighs and huffs can be heard from your boyfriend behind you, so it’s only a matter of time until he’d start whining that you’ve been ignoring him, again.

"baby i’m bored"

More than a minute, now that's a new record.

"okay, but i'm doing something" you sternly say, turning around to show him the screen of your laptop so he can see the number of pages of your paper that you still need to edit.

You did your best to not look at Jake because you need to focus. He's wearing that favourite hoodie of yours, the one that you borrowed the most. You couldn't help but think he's wearing it on purpose. He raises the collar, tightening up the drawstrings as he gives you that pleading look. He's been whining nonstop for about half an hour now and you're starting to feel bad.

Tonight's one of the nights where you're both free which is rare given how busy you and your boyfriend are. It just happens that one of your classes have a deadline this week and it's due before midnight. You’re technically done but the perfectionist in you still wants to do another round of editing just to make sure you’d submit the version that satisfies you.

Your boyfriend understands that. Hell, Jake's quite similar especially when it comes to academics. You're just hoping tonight's not an exception.

However, Jake thinks you’re always doing something. It’s not because he’s needy that he’s complaining. He’s seriously getting concerned about how much you’ve been tiring yourself lately.

Not just for this paper but for everything else too so he has to intervene before you exhaust yourself completely. You're stubborn for sure and it caused little arguments between you both in the past but he knows how to handle you.

Jake's a man of many talents and if there's one thing he's the most confident about, it's his ability to make you putty in his hands.

He places a firm peck on top of your bare shoulder blade. You thought that was it since he's very affectionate, not putting too much thought in to it as he's done it many times before. But then he leaves another and continues his kisses on the rest of your shoulders up to your nape so you know what he was doing.

"jaeyun i need to finish this" you try to say with more conviction but your voice came out a little weak.

Jake’s lips curl into a smirk. You’re not leaving his lap when you could've so if he just tries one more time..

You feel his large hands slowly creep under your shirt, his fingertips circling your skin. Jake feels your breathing quicken as you pauses your typing, prompting him to continue his ministrations on you. His hands ascend and before you can even stop him, both his hands cup your breasts.

"take a break" he whispers against your skin, casually biting the surface as he starts kneading your breasts roughly.

Curse you for choosing to wear a thin bra tonight. Normally, you wouldn’t but spending time with your boyfriend always ends up with him fucking you so you had to take precautions.

You should've taken more. That will never stop Jake though.

"b-babe, we fucked this morning" you struggle to fight off his effects on you, not really wanting him to stop with how heated you are already.

"so? we can’t fuck again?” he whines by your ear, ceasing his hands but not without giving them a hard pinch which dismayed you a bit. 

“we can but later. i’m almost done i promise” you turn around to give him a quick kiss in which he sneakily tries to deepen by pulling your neck. You thankfully was able to stop him, planting your hand against his firm chest.

“hmm, okay but..can i be inside you though? i’ll behave baby i promise” your eyes squint at Jake’s twinkling ones with his request, not really believing any of his words after the stunt he just pulled.

On the bright side, it’ll pacify him for the time being while you finish editing so you nodded.

Jake grinned at his successful attempt, helping you out of your night shorts. He immediately pulls down his sweats and boxers, just enough so he can take his cock out for you to sit on. He'd been hard since you sat on his lap and he's pretty sure you've noticed it but just paid him no mind.

You're good at that, resisting. But Jake also figured out how to break your defenses. 

He runs his hands along his shaft, giving it a quick squeeze while you part your thong to the side. The view made him chuckle, immediately sliding his swollen tip along your folds. Jake isn't really surprised with the amount of slick that's coating his cock already.

"baby, you're so wet-"

"sim jaeyun" your firm tone stops him at once, pulling you down by your hips as you slowly sink on him.

"shit.."

Your boyfriend didn't prep you so it's quite uncomfortable given his size. Jake usually fingers you up to three sometimes to make sure you're ready each time you have sex.

"fuckfuckfuck"

Jake takes a deep breath once you reach the hilt, closing his eyes to stop himself from fucking up to you. He may be good at controlling himself but when it comes to your pussy? He's no match for it.

You made it clear that you wanted to finish editing, evident when he sees your hand passing him his phone.

"play a bit so you won't get bored hmm?"

Jake begrudgingly accepts it, leaning back on the pillows as he starts playing a game on his phone. The slight movement causes his dick to move inside you, unintentionally hitting that spongy spot that elicits a moan from you.

It's followed by short gasp, probably thinking that he didn't hear it because he's busy with his own game. Oh but he did, he's just going to ignore it like you wanted. He loves you that much.

You were wondering why your boyfriend hasn't said anything. Usually he does, taunting you until you give in but his attention is fully on his phone now. You should be relieved because he's not bothering you anymore.

It lasted for a few minutes. You were able to do a lot of editing before one of his hands grip your hip.

"stop moving baby, i don't wanna loose here" he grunts, sounding breathless behind you. Loose in what? The game on his phone or this game he's playing with you?

You pause your typing, closing your eyes to try and control your breathing. Ever since Jake hit that spot earlier, you've grown desperate for him to do it again, not really realizing that you've been unconsciously clenching around his cock this whole time.

It's frustrating you that Jake seems to be not affected at all, continuing playing with his game, a few curses and whining here and there. You move slightly, hoping that he'll notice but still none. Maybe he's getting back at you for constantly ignoring him earlier.

You clamp on him again, rolling your hips a little and his grip tightened on your hip. You feel his cock twitch inside and you grinned. Closing your laptop now, you transfer it from your legs to the mattress. You're just relieved that you were able to finish before your horniness took over.

Jake's hand moves from your hip to the front side of your waist, controlling your movements as you start bouncing on his cock.

"you've been working hard baby" he chuckles, not failing to compliment you.

"mhmm, i love you jakey" you moan, close to a whine at this point since he's still not paying you his full attention.

"i love you too baby"

A yelp erupts from you when your boyfriend suddenly raise both of his legs, his hands holding up your body as he pushes you on your knees. Your face falls front on the mattress as Jake positions himself, careful not to remove his dick from your pussy in the process.

Damn his core strength.

Once Jake's both hands are on your sides, he begins fucking you senseless. Like how he's wanted to since you sat on his lap. He knew that you won't last long, that you need him like how much he needs you.

"you should relax a little" he coos, giggling a bit when he notices how tightly you're gripping the bedsheets. The intensity from his thrusts leaves your brain mushy, almost missing the his teasing undertone.

"h-how am i gonna relax when you're fucking me this hard" you're not really complaining and Jake knows it. He relishes all the sounds coming from you each time he has you like this. All pliant, all for him to do whatever he pleases.

"just the way you like it"

He caresses your ass as he speeds up his thrust, intentionally missing your soft spot to prolong this. He knows you're anticipating him to spank you a little but he won't. Instead, he slows down and contemplates if he should play with your swollen clit at the moment.

He'd have the time to calm himself, maybe pause, to punish you just a little bit. He's definitely not planning to let you cum yet.

Not until you start begging, again and again..

[tempfrangit]

doe-eyed

Johnny x F!Reader, 1.4k, 18+ smut summary: You're going to let some alpha fuck you because you're broke and just happened to get the call. Thank you for your service. inspired by @syoddeye's rut kinktober fill cw: omegaverse, breeding kink, technically dubcon because heat/rut? banners by @/cafekitsune

The alpha’s scent sends a tingle straight down to your pussy. It was clean and sharp, like pine, but charred at the edges in a way that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end deliciously. Your pre-heat is finally settling. You'd been able to smell him from the first moment you stepped out of the SUV, totally thrown off by your surroundings.

Like a fox let loose for the hounds to chase.

Of course, you'd been prepared for this, even if it was your first time being called. You'd willingly chosen to sign up for this job after your degree left you in debt past your means, even after graduation, while you worked two jobs.

Still, you don't expect the door to rip itself open as you approach the cabin, spine stiff as an iron rod. A gasp escapes as you freeze. The entire speech you've been coached through leaves your head in an instant as you blink up at him owlishly.

He's big, stocky like a rugby player with a surprisingly straight nose for the energy he exudes. A real alpha, not like the ones you'd messed around with in uni, testing the waters but never taking the plunge, not wanting to be just some omega. Part of you wants to run. But most of you can't help how your heartbeat quickens. How you can feel yourself get wetter.

You don't even know when he'd slung you over his shoulder, trudging back to the cabin like this was the same shit every day. And for all you knew it was.

Once the door's shut, you're set onto your feet and pressed against the hard wood. He grinds against your clothed pussy like a beast, hot breath puffing against your protective collar with an edge of distaste as his hands snake up the skirt of your dress.

An ice rock of unexpected shame forms in the pit of your stomach, and you've never been more embarrassed in your life. You’d assumed you’d been chosen because you were close to your heat, but the lack of approval cut deep.

“Off,” he snarls, and before you can even to offer to remove your panties you feel the pinch of them being pulled and digging into the soft meat of your hips before the fabric tears.

This time you stop yourself from gasping, swallowing it back. You force yourself to lean against the door, bracing against your forearms, doing your best to present like this, deep arch already making your back ache dully. To be the perfect little submissive omega.

His approving rumble of a purr makes you shiver, pressing your cheek against the cool door as you ease back into situation. Or maybe that's your heat finally rearing it's head, as his scent washes over you. Vaguely, you hear the rustling of fabric, but even the thought of the sound leaves your brain as you feel the tip of his cock slide against your slit. Your slick helps the glide of his next thrust. The feeling of his thick cock fucking between your pussylips has you shudder. A soft whine leaves your lips, properly needy as you grind against him.

That earns you a swat, a slight growl of appreciation. "Tha’s right, doe. Ya want it, don’t ya?"

And you nod, face burning at the admission. Of course, you can't turn down the opportunity to peek over your shoulder to get a better look at the guy who's gonna be fucking you.

If you'd run into him at a club, you would have let him take you home. His eyes are the prettiest blue you've ever seen, thick dark lashes framing them, and near feverish with his rut. Thick dark hair shaved into a mohawk, stubble growing on his jaw. Part of you kinda hopes he’ll knock you up. Oh — oh you’re definitely thankful your heat's hitting you but you do not want to entertain that. Still, you can feel slick dribbling out of you, know that your scent flares.

A sharp inhale is your only warning before he tilts his hips, notching the thick head of his cock against the opening of your pussy and burying himself to the base.

The air leaves your lungs in a rush, brain blue screening as you try and fail to comprehend how utterly full you are suddenly. When he begins to thrust without giving you a moment to adjust, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming his hips back into yours like a rutting beast, you can’t help the sound you make. Something guttural, animalistic in response as your body is rocked into the wood.

He wasn’t holding back at all, warm breaths huffing against your neck as he fucked into you. Again, you're trying to tilt your hips but this time it's to get him to thrust against just the right spot. He was good. He had to know he was good, because holy fuck.

You don't even realize the high pitched whining sound that you'd been hearing was coming from you, until another crack of pain on across your ass shocks you back into your body. You'd been too focused on all the places he'd been hitting inside you, as he jackhammers his hips, and your face is burning.

No, you were burning up in general. The delicious heat that licked through you each time he thrust into you entirely made your legs feel weak. The hot breaths panting against the base of your neck, the wispy curls hairs there, sends electricity down your spine. The edge of a tooth presses against your jaw and it startles you so much you come.

And even spasming on his cock, he doesn't stop.

“Johnny," Johnny growls into your ear, thrusts turning urgent, "call me Johnny and tell me to knock yer cunt up.”

You're pretty sure you follow his orders as he keeps fucking you.

You know you beg him for his knot, and that earns you a snarl. Pain rips through your pleasure as you feel the soft skin of your back break. Just below your collar. Your thighs are shaking as you come again.

You're too hot.

Blinking awake groggily, you realize you don't remember making it to the bed last night.

Johnny had fucked you against the door upon your arrival, then on the floor after he caught his breath, cradling you on your side as his knot had kept you close to him. Then he'd seemed to have calmed down enough to come to his senses. He'd gulped down water, pressing his lips against yours to force some into your own mouth, and keeping yourself hydrated hadn't even occurred to you. You hadn't realize how thirsty you were as your heat ebbed slightly, still feeling like you were warm to the touch as you panted against his chest. Then he'd fucked you over the arm of the couch. Which you'd surely ruined after squirting down it. You hadn't even known you could squirt like that.

At the thought of water, you untangle yourself from the human furnace that's wrapped around you. Prying his fingers off your arm as gently as you can before you practically fall out of bed.

You're not too proud to drink out of the bathroom faucet, too relieved by the cool liquid pouring into your mouth to care. Blinking at yourself in the mirror, you twist slowly, trying to get a good view of your back. Your collar was still safely in place, but the skin around the edge was decorated with marks, nips where he'd buried his teeth in you.

Why did that make you so wet?

You don't even notice him in the mirror, before thick arms are wrapped around you and you squeak, jumping but being held firmly in place by the alpha you'd spent the night getting your brains fucked out by.

“Fuck, you smell better than I remember,” his breath tickles your ear as he sniffs at you, rumble in his voice as he begins to rub his stiffening cock against the fat of your ass.

“Better?” You breath the question, spreading your thighs enough that you can grind back against him. While you don't fully understand, you're not about to let the warmth that's sparking in your belly.

“When I picked you months ago,” Johnny breathes between tracking kisses along your jaw, “knew you were it fer me when they gave me yer scent sample. Take this fuckin' thing off, bonnie, lemme bite you 'n' breed you 'n' give you everythin' you want.”

Maybe you are like every omega, pleased to be chosen by a big alpha who can pick you up like you're nothing, fuck you full. What's wrong with that?

You're fingers pull desperately at your collar, trying to work it loose as fast as you can.

[inkedinshadows]

Unraveling Truths

This is a bonus scene for my miniseries "A Helping Hand". You can read part 1 of 3 here. I know I wrote it in August, but I got a few requests for more so here we are.

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Azriel finally explains to his mate what the wingspan business is all about.

Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), written in 3rd POV (matching the rest of the series)

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: I love time zones because it’s 2am here but it’s still the 16th in the US so I’m technically not late :) This fic is just another proof that I can't write drabbles lol. Anyway, hank you @azrielsshadows42 for the inspo 🫶🏻 and thank you @azrielappreciationweek it was so much fun writing for this event 💙💙

“You still haven't told me.”

She watched him from his bed, the sight still so new that Azriel's heartbeat quickened each time he saw it.

For the past week, she had spent every night with him, usually in his room. Yet walking in to find her reading a book while she waited for him was something he was still getting used to. And something he would never take for granted.

Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, leaning closer to brush a kiss to her temple as she set the book down. “Told you what, beautiful?”

The corner of his lips curled up at the small blush that colored her cheeks, even after a week of hearing that nickname. He was never going to stop using it.

He began to take off his boots, holding his breath as she knelt behind him and unfastened the latches of his shirt. Her fingers brushed the base of his wings, and he had to muster all his self-control to keep his body from reacting.

“About wingspan,” she replied casually. “You still haven't explained it.”

He froze, sitting a bit straighter. “Why do you want to know?”

She undid the last latch, and though the shirt now hung loosely around his torso, he made no move to remove it.

“Because I want to know all about you.” She moved to sit beside him, seemingly unaware of his slight change in demeanor. “And because you said you'd explain, but you still haven't.”

Azriel swallowed thickly. He'd been happy to hold her in his arms every night, knowing she'd be the first thing he saw in the morning. His hands had never wandered too freely over her body. He wanted to take things slow with her, not only to respect the trauma she had endured, but also because she wasn't just another girl. She was his mate, and he'd be damned if he ruined things by rushing them.

But he couldn't deny he had thought about how she would feel. How she would taste. How she would look while he pleasured her.

Her question about wingspan certainly didn’t help.

And if she was bringing it up again after a week, her curiosity wasn’t likely to fade anytime soon.

“Alright,” he finally said, and she rewarded him with that beautiful smile of hers—the one that never failed to make his heart skip a beat. “Rumor has it that the span of an Illyrian’s wings reflects the size of… certain body parts.”

She frowned, a small crease appearing on her brow. He resisted the urge to smooth it away with his thumb.

“What body parts?” she asked, her gaze wandering up and down his body as if she could see the answer somewhere.

He was glad she wasn’t looking at his face when he replied, “Intimate body parts, Y/N.”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, wide with surprise and shock. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she looked down again. Straight at his crotch.

Azriel had to draw on five hundred years of composure to keep himself from shifting—and, more importantly, from hardening under her gaze. She’s just surprised, he told himself. That’s why she’s looking. Nothing more.

When she met his eyes again, her voice was quiet, as though she was too shy to ask but couldn’t help herself.

“And, uh…” She paused, clearing her throat before finishing. “Are those just rumors?”

The words slipped out before he could think. “No. It’s true.”

She studied him for a moment, and he feared he’d said too much and made her uncomfortable. But before he could apologize, she spoke again.

“Does Cassian really have the largest wingspan?”

He couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across his lips. “He likes to brag about it, but no, he doesn’t.” And though he knew he probably shouldn’t, he added, “I do.”

Her eyes widened, dropping to his crotch again. This time, his body reacted before he could stop it, and he felt himself beginning to harden in his pants. Her cheeks flushed an ever deeper shade of red.

“Hey, it's alright,” he murmured, tilting her chin up so she would look at him. “I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

To his surprise, she gave him a soft smile. “You didn't. I asked. It's just…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked away for a moment before returning her focus to him.

“I just don't have much experience,” she whispered.

Azriel needed to change the topic immediately before his mind began running wild, thinking of all the things he could show her, all the sensations he could make her feel, all the possibilities. He reeled in his thoughts.

Sliding an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer. “It's alright,” he repeated, pressing another kiss to her temple. “We don't have to do anything. I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“But what if…” She hesitated, but as she bit her lip, she placed her hand on his leg, just above his knee but close enough for Azriel to be acutely aware of every small movement of her fingers. He was caught in a suspended moment, where everything hinged on her next words.

“What if I want to do something?”

His heart pounded in his chest. “You… want to?”

Despite the blush still coloring her cheeks, she held his gaze and nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. He struggled not to kiss her right then and there and let his hands explore every inch of her body.

“Tell me what you want, beautiful,” he said instead, keeping his voice quiet and steady. “Anything you want, you can have it.”

She looked down, her gaze landing on the erection he could no longer hide. “I want to help you with that,” she murmured, her hand sliding up to his thigh and squeezing gently.

Azriel sucked in a breath. Unable to stop himself, he shifted, spreading his legs slightly to bring her hand closer to where he wanted it.

“Are you sure?” he asked. He needed her, desperately, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated.

Instead of answering, she stepped off the bed. Her eyes never left his as she moved between his parted legs, her fingers reaching for his shirt. He didn't stop her as she tugged it off, revealing his tanned chest.

“I'm sure, Az,” she whispered, her finger tracing the swirling lines of his tattoos. She'd done it many times before, but now it felt more intimate, more intentional. “Let me do this for you.”

He couldn't hold back any longer. Not when she looked at him with rosy cheeks and eyes full of desire. They both wanted this, and he wasn’t going to turn her down.

Cupping her face in his hands, Azriel pulled her in for a kiss. As their lips met, the bond between them came to life, glowing bright and golden in his chest and filling him with warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of his growing arousal.

“Go on, then,” he murmured against her lips when he finally found the will to break the kiss. “You can do whatever you like.”

She smiled, and under Azriel's attentive gaze, she knelt between his legs. From where he sat, the neckline of her nightgown left little to the imagination. He swallowed, his breath catching as she began unbuttoning his pants. He lifted his hips just enough for her to slide them down his legs, along with his underwear, leaving him bare before her. Her eyes widened slightly as the took him in.

“You weren't lying about it,” she murmured, glancing up at him. “I didn't expect you to be… this big.”

His smirk turned smug. “You certainly know how to flatter a male's ego.”

She chuckled, averting her gaze for only a moment before reaching out. Her hand wrapped around his aching cock, making him gasp audibly. At the sound, a smile of delight appeared on her face, and she began to stroke him slowly, her movements gentle and exploratory.

His eyes locked with hers, and, encouraged by the connection, she grew bolder. Her grip tightened slightly, and he instinctively bucked his hips forward. Still, he held back as much as he could, letting her set the pace she was most comfortable with. But she leaned closer, her eyes searching his for permission, a silent question lingering in them.

Azriel brushed her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “Whatever you like,” he repeated in a whisper.

She nodded, and as his hand slipped away, she leaned in, her tongue flicking out to run along his cock before her lips closed around his tip. He sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to push himself deeper into her mouth and holding his body still. The only sign of his impatience was the faint rustle of his wings behind him.

She continued to stroke him slowly, teasing him with gentle squeezes and soft touches, her tongue swirling around his head until precum leaked out. But with each of his sighs and the small, involuntary twitches of his hips, her confidence grew. She took him a few inches deeper, hesitating briefly sliding before her lips farther down his cock, stretching her jaw to fit as much of him as she could.

“Fuck…” he groaned, the word escaping his lips as she hollowed her cheeks. Her mouth was warm, wet and impossibly tight, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to thrust into her. Instead, he tangled his fingers in her hair—not to guide her, but to ground himself, needing the connection, needing to feel her any way he could.

His little outburst seemed to wash away the last traces of her shyness. She began to bob her head, still using her hand to cover what her mouth couldn’t take, her tongue swirling around him with ease. Her eyes stayed locked on his, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel could have come right then.

His mate was on her knees before him, pleasuring him in a way he had never dared to dream of. Over the last week, he'd fantasized about it once or twice, but he’d assumed she wasn’t ready to take that step and relished the simple intimacy of a gentle, teasing touch while cuddling.

But here she was, her boldness lighting a fire inside him.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, a moan spilling from his lips.

She blushed again but only moved faster, taking him deeper. His eyes rolled back, and his fingers tightened in her hair. When she whimpered softly, the sound sent a shock of pleasure through him, clouding his mind and driving him closer to the edge. He rocked his hips once, unable to hold back any longer.

“I’m… I’m close, sweetheart,” he panted. He didn’t care if he didn’t last long, didn't care that she’d been working him for only a few minutes. His release coiled tighter in his gut, his breaths coming faster, and he knew he couldn't hold it back. “You should stop if you don’t want me to come in your mouth.”

But the desire in her eyes only burned brighter, and she didn’t stop. Instead, she put even more effort into it, her free hand resting on his thigh while the other one squeezed gently at the base of his cock. When she hollowed her cheeks again, her warm mouth enveloping him so perfectly, Azriel’s control shattered.

With a groan, pleasure crashed over him, his release spilling down her throat. She swallowed every drop, the rhythmic contractions of her mouth around him drawing out his pleasure for a few more moments before he relaxed again, loosening his grip on her hair as he struggled to catch his breath.

After a moment, she pulled back, and Azriel immediately felt the absence of her warmth around him. Her hand slipped away as well, and for a beat, they simply looked at each other, twin smiles of satisfaction on their faces.

“You were wonderful,” he said eventually, helping her stand and guiding her to sit on his lap. “That was incredible.”

Her blush returned, deepening at his praise, an endearing sight he would never grow tired of. It made him want to keep complimenting her, especially after the pleasure she’d just given him.

He kissed her, savoring the softness of her lips and the familiar taste he’d come to cherish over the past week, now mixed with a hint of own release. His tongue slid into her mouth, entwining with hers while his hand drifted down to her thigh, brushing the hem of her nightgown. She didn’t pull away, but Azriel sensed the sudden tension seizing her body, despite her attempt to hide it.

He immediately withdrew his hand, silently cursing himself for assuming too much, especially after being so careful to let her dictate their pace.

Pulling back from the kiss, he searched her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I should have asked.”

She shook her head, but she didn't look at him. “No, it's my fault. When I said I don't have much experience, I… I actually meant I don't have any experience.”

Azriel did his best to mask his surprise, not wanting to make her feel more self-conscious. Gently, he placed his hand on her waist, drawing slow, soothing circles over the fabric of her nightgown.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked softly.

Her eyes remained fixed downward as she nervously fidgeted with her fingers. “Because you're five centuries old,” she whispered. “You must have so much experience with these things, and I don't, and I didn't want you to be disappointed if I—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, unwilling to let her continue down that path. Tilting her chin up with a gentle finger, he waited patiently for her to meet his eyes. When she didn't, he murmured, “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

Slowly, her gaze slid to his. Azriel offered her a soft, reassuring smile, hoping it would ease her worries.

“I don't care if you don't have any experience,” he said, his hand still caressing her side. “I'm not disappointed. All that matters to me is you and whether you're comfortable with whatever we're doing.”

She nodded, though some tension still lingered in her body. He could tell she struggled to believe him, but he wanted to make it clear that he would respect any boundary, any hesitation. She came first, and she always would. Everything else could wait.

“We can take things as slow as you want to,” he continued. “I won't rush you. You're in control, Y/N. Always. Okay?”

At last, he felt her body relax, a relieved smile appearing on her face. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

“Good.” Azriel smiled back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Will you let me get up for a moment? I'll wash up quickly, and then we can go to sleep.”

Her smile grew, a hint of playful anticipation gleaming in her eyes. “Can we cuddle?”

He chuckled. “Of course we can cuddle, beautiful.”

As she slid off his lap, he stole one last kiss before getting up and heading to the bathroom. He could feel her eyes following him, and he couldn't help but smirk.

He wanted her, but if she needed more time, he'd give it to her without question, even after what she'd just done for him. After all, her trust and comfort were more important than his need, and he knew that waiting would only make the moment she was truly ready even more special. The wait would be worth it.

Because she was worth it. She was worth everything.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[wrystia]

any best friends to lovers arc with spencer would eat

pizza invite spencer agnew x gn!reader (fluff) wc: 990

    sitting behind one of the many cameras, you try to keep your eyes on the cast members acting out another ‘try not to laugh’. their characters and creations usually get a laugh out of you, noises that always seem to make their way into the subtitles of videos. however, it’s hard to keep your eyes on them when spencer sits right next to you.

  he’s so attentive, whispering that you should capture shayne sneaking around the side of the set, or that you should focus on amanda’s reactions. his voice is so gentle in your ear, hand occasionally pressing against your thigh as he leans forward. spencer has always done that when working with you, when working with anyone as far as you can tell. 

  it used to never bother you (it especially never made your cheeks feel warm), but now you can’t find yourself focusing. tapping your shoes anxiously against your chair legs, you hope that no one else can notice your behavior. the way you look at him or the way you find yourself pointing the camera at him more than anyone else. especially when all he seems to do is call you his friend.

  “you’re doing great today,” spencer leans over, whispering, just quiet and close enough that the microphones can’t pick up the noise.

  looking back at him for a split second, you almost bump your head into his, not realizing just how close he actually was. “thank you, spence,” you try to look back to the camera quickly, attempting to say his nickname with a normal inflection. 

  even his nickname sounds weird coming from your mouth. the way it rolls off your tongue, feeling so natural yet so bothersome. goosebumps form over your arms and legs. they linger, hair raising soon after, completely sending your mind scrambling as you almost miss one of chanse’s bits. you’re almost positive spencer doesn’t know of your feelings; however, you can’t help but feel like he’s pressing every imaginary button.

  “do you want to celebrate with pizza tonight? figured it’s been a long shoot week,” he continues, this time his arm reaches over and rests on the back of your chair, hand barely brushing your shoulder. 

  staring into the camera, you feel your heartbeat quicken ever so slightly. butterflies form in your stomach and you don’t quite know what to say. you hadn’t been alone with spencer in a few weeks, having been busy with videos and life. but you also didn’t want to make the friendship feel any weirder than it already had. “sure, you remember what i like?”

  your voice is quiet, yet filled with more passion than intended. spencer nods absentmindedly for a moment, nearly forgetting that you were staring into a camera. “right, of course. i could never forget, y/n,” he whispers back, bringing his arm back to his side as he leans back in his chair. 

  the loss of his arm made the room suddenly feel cold. you wanted to look back at him and question his movements, urge to have that closeness with him again. however, you know you could never say those words to him, ever. taking in a deep breath, you try to return your attention to the video at hand. focusing on every little detail just to get your mind off of things.

  courtney returns to the stage with chanse, both donning dresses with sunglasses on. bouncing one liners off of each other, they get a few giggles from the cast, nearly getting shayne to laugh. smiling to yourself, you find your goosebumps disappearing and your hands loosening against the camera handles. the tension in your body finally disappears for a moment, mind thinking technically again.

  aiming the camera at the cast, courtney gives the majority of the outro. they’re as expressive as ever, charismatically discussing that day’s video and promoting the next live event. sitting back in your seat, the video simmers to an end, marking the tumultuous end of an entirely too long shoot week. 

  looking towards spencer, you immediately regret it. he’s already looking at you, meeting your eyes. you always forget about how soft they are when they look at you, how kind his gaze is. biting your lip, you look back towards the cast and crew, unable to maintain any sort of eye contact. “so- uh, what did you think of today’s ‘try not to laugh’? normally you crack up at their skits.”

  “it was good, i was just dreaming of that pizza you mentioned,” your voice waivers slightly, but carries through almost convincingly enough. 

  spencer furrows his eyebrows, clenching his jaw. he’s practically a lie detector around you, which you should’ve understood it would mean he’d figure you out eventually. “no, really, what’s up?” he finally asks, looking around the room to see that everyone has already left.

  you look back towards him, swallowing what little dignity you have left. to develop feelings for him, a friend, a coworker feels uncomfortable. especially if you spout out everything, he may not feel the same as you, making everything significantly worse. “spence, i- i don’t know. there’s just things you don’t tell people, things that could affect their friendship.”

  his expression softens again, lips parting slightly. “y/n, you can if they feel the same way. if they were going to tell you during a well deserved pizza night.”

  processing what he says, you bite your lip. “are you saying what i think you’re saying? wait that’s why you invited me for pizza?” turning your chair more, you face him better, hands clenching the armrests of your chair. 

  “yeah, to both of them, i think,” spencer keeps his eyes on yours, hand absentmindedly reaching out to grab yours, “if you’re still up to split a pizza with me.”

  smiling, mostly to yourself, you nod. butterflies multiply in your stomach again, this time making you feel queasy in a better way, “of course i am, spence.”

[worldsover]

In Motion

~3.4k words, massage, gym sex, your personal training client!Jisoo

(for @sooyadelicacies, a quick bfh)

Jisoo flows through various yoga poses with grace and strength, her toned body clad in form-fitting pants. Despite the late hour, you made an exception for Jisoo tonight; she's worth it. As she holds a challenging lunge, her thighs quivering from the effort, you admire her determination—one of the reasons why you cleared your schedule for this session. Besides, it's technically Saturday now, so staying up to watch her is justifiable since you'd be working at home anyway. It definitely has nothing to do with wanting to appreciate the curve of her hips, or the arch of her back, or the way her ponytail sways as she moves into different positions, revealing the elegant line of her neck. Definitely not. Who would stay up this late just to watch someone sweat? Or to admire the sight of them in a sports bra, revealing their cleavage? Certainly not you.

"I saw that you landed that yoga sponsorship. It suits you perfectly," you comment, catching a whiff of her jasmine-scented shampoo as she walks by for weighted squats. Your eyes linger on her backside before you correct her form.

A thin layer of sweat glistens on Jisoo's forehead after finishing a set. "Thank you!" she pants, her chest rising and falling with exertion. "I never thought I'd be working out this late." Her laughter fills the room and warms your heart.

The distant rumble of a sports car breaks your focus. Living just steps away from Elysium Fitness, these interruptions are common in such an expensive neighborhood. "Don't worry about him. Just showing off," you reassure Jisoo with a smile, and she chuckles in response.

As the night wears on, the bright white lights are replaced with warmer, softer lamps that are easier on the eyes. But the harsh lights of the city at night still seep through, casting a neon glow over everything. Your breathing matches the thuds of feet and weights hitting the floor as you both lie on mats for core work. You guide Jisoo through planks and leg raises until you're both exhausted. With each movement, her top rides up and exposes more of her toned abs, testing your self-control. You've worked with plenty of beautiful actresses and models with stunning bodies, but there's something about Jisoo that sets her apart.

During a break to sip water, Jisoo offers you a taste of her strawberry-flavored drink. The sweetness catches you off guard and elicits another giggle from her. Her laughter quickens your pulse in a way no workout ever could.

"Rough day on set?" you ask.

She lets out a sigh. Sitting on the floor, she leans back and supports herself with her arms behind her. Her chest rises and falls, covered in sweat. "Not just work," she responds. "I broke up with him."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really? Isn't he still your co-star?"

"Yep." She pops her lips, and you nod sympathetically at the awkwardness of the situation.

As you help her up after a strenuous set, your hands brush against her stomach and back. At that moment, your eyes meet hers in an intense gaze as she leans into you for support. Company policy strictly forbids personal involvement with clients, but denying Jisoo is impossible. The city lights seem to dance across her glistening skin, mixing with the scent of her perfume.

"I'm here whenever you want to talk," you offer, gently massaging the tension from her shoulders as she relaxes into your touch. "You know I'm ready to help with whatever I can."

She takes a deep breath before responding. "I know. That's why I like you." Your heart skips a beat at her words, and time seems to stand still as the sounds of your exertion fade away.

You try not to gulp. "You know, I actually have my massage license. So if you need me to work out anything else... promise I won't charge extra."

Jisoo stays still for a moment, then nods. "I think I like the sound of that."

Together, the two of you walk towards the massage rooms. The gym is quiet and empty at this late hour, a stark contrast to its usual bustling energy during peak hours. As you enter, the sounds of grunting and heavy breathing are replaced by soft jazz music playing from the speakers. You close and lock the door behind you for privacy, even though it's unlikely that anyone will disturb you in this peaceful haven.

But then you remember and go back to lock the door. "Hey, if you want to change in the locker room—"

"Keep it locked."

The air is thick with tension as you wait for her to undress, every part of your body buzzing with anticipation. She begins by removing her shoes, then slowly pulls down her pants, revealing long and toned legs. It feels like she's putting on a show for you, yet she still blushes and you look away out of respect. Her sports bra is the last thing to come off; you bite your cheek to avoid staring as she hands it over without meeting your gaze. Now wearing only a pair of panties, Jisoo lays face down on the table with a heavy sigh.

You start massaging her shoulders, feeling the gentle give of the springs beneath her weight. Your hands continue to move lower until they reach the small of her back where you pause for a moment, taking in a deep breath. You catch a whiff of sweat mixed with jasmine from her shampoo and a hint of strawberries from her flavored water. Her skin glistens with perspiration and you quickly grab some massage oil from the cupboard, generously pouring it onto your hands before returning to her. The shine of her fair skin, now glimmering with oil and muscle definition, has your breath catching in your throat. You continue kneading, now using oil to glide your hands all over her back, shoulders, neck—and you think you can hear her moaning softly, like a contented purr.

She turns over onto her back, exposing even more of herself to you. At first, she covers her breasts with one arm and avoids your gaze. But then she relaxes and lets her arms rest by her sides. Her breasts are small but perky and enticing. Her nipples are firm. You squirt out some more oil, slowly gliding it up and down her arms and legs until they shine in the warm dim light.

Jisoo lets out a soft moan as your skilled hands work their way deeper, releasing any tension or stress she may have had. It's almost like a mockery to her, the way you only touch her limbs. Your gaze wanders over her body, tracing curves that you've only ever imagined caressing before. She tilts her back slightly, seemingly inviting you to explore her chest. But you resist, choosing instead to focus on her shoulders, collarbones, and sides—purposely teasing her with your careful touches. You maintain the facade of a professional masseur, suppressing your desires for now.

She turns back onto her stomach and you can't help but notice how her beautiful butt jiggles slightly as she settles in again.

Once more, you start from her shoulders and work your way down her back. This time, she shudders as you continue massaging downwards, stopping just above the top of her thighs. You lean forward to whisper in her ear, "Would it be okay if I moved a little lower?" Your voice is husky with nervousness and desire as your fingertips brush against the smooth skin above where her panties sit.

She nods slowly, biting her lip nervously as she exhales heavily through clenched teeth. As your hands knead at her thighs, she moans louder this time. "C-can you take off my panties? They're...starting to feel uncomfortable," she whispers. Like she's too embarrassed to admit it aloud.

"Of course," you say, and your finger hooks into the waistband. Lowering, carefully, you peel her panties down her legs, and watch in awe: her pussy is soaked. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Mhm," she moans, whiny. "Just help me relax, please."

Without fabric in the way, you can really sink your digits into her backside properly. You can feel every ridge of her spine, every indent of muscle. You start to massage her glutes, circling and kneading them until you find that perfect spot. Her hips buck up involuntarily into your hands, begging for more as you bring relief to her tense body. You can't deny yourself anymore; your hands slowly creep towards her butt cheeks and then lower still. As you work on her legs, your fingers somehow find their way between them, teasing her inner thighs, earning another moan. The scent of her arousal fills the room, and it's almost too much for you. But you keep going, kneading, caressing, rubbing away all that pent-up tension. Your heart pounds in your chest as your thumb brushes against her clit, earning a tiny gasp from her lips. She's wet and hot to the touch.

"How's that?" you ask quietly.

"Good," she breathes out between ragged breaths. "So good... keep going."

That single brush becomes more purposeful, strokes of your fingers along her folds. She grips the edge of the table tightly, trembling under your touch like it's somewhere between pain and pleasure, but listen to her whimpering—it's all pleasure, and any pain is at your restraint.

"Please. More."

You nod, feeling your heart race in your chest. Your fingers find their way to her core and gently part her folds as Jisoo sighs heavily. Her labia is swollen and wet, begging for attention, but you take your time, teasing them with the tip of your index finger before plunging inside her. She cries out softly, arching her back into the table. Your middle finger joins the first one inside her, stretching her tightness with a gentle pressure that she welcomes eagerly. Her mouth falls open in a silent 'O' shape and she grinds against your hand, seeking more. You smile against her back as you watch your fingers disappear into her hot, tight heat and begin to move them in and out in slow, steady strokes. Her pussy clenches around them, milking your fingers as you continue massaging her thighs and glutes. You can't help but taste a droplet of sweat on her skin and lick it clean, savoring the mix of saltiness and jasmine on your tongue.

Jisoo's moans grow louder now as you work your fingers deeper inside her while still massaging her outer thighs; she trembles under your touch as you apply just enough pressure to hit all the right spots at once. Your other hand reaches up to cup one of her breasts through the oil-covered skin, squeezing and rolling the nipple between your fingers while you pleasure her from below. She gasps at the mix of sensations before coming apart underneath you; warmth seeps through your fingertips as she climaxes hard behind you. Every muscle in her body tenses before relaxing with deep sighs that fill the room. Even then, you don't stop; instead of slowing down, you continue to stimulate her, not wanting this moment to end. Minutes pass before she starts to calm down, and when she does, she pants heavily with an afterglow that fills the room. Finally, you sit back on the table, looking down at your sexy client as she lies there completely naked before you. She catches her breath raggedly, her chest rising and falling rapidly. You wipe away the remaining oil with a towel, then grab some fresh ones for both of you.

"Thank you, oh, fuck, that was incredible." She makes eye contact with you. "Can you pass my clothes?"

You hand them over, your hands shaking a little as you watch her dress herself.

Suddenly, Jisoo grabs your hand. "I need to reward you for that."

"What? No, it's fine, that was plenty reward—"

But then she pulls you away, and you find yourself whisked through the empty gym once again—as an employee, you know this place like the back of your hand, but you have no idea where she's taking you.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't Jisoo on your lap while you were sitting on a gym bench in a squat rack. This position isn't in any of your training programs.

"Wh-why here? If there's anywhere someone could show up... I mean, there's always crazy busy bodybuilders..."

"Shh." Jisoo has a wicked grin. "Just relax."

If you had to wager a guess, it would be the mirrors—no room has more mirrors than the weight room. And you're thankful because you get to watch Jisoo work in her tight leggings and her sports bra. Though you're certain that watching is only secondary to the sensation of it all. Of Jisoo clawing at your sweatpants, rubbing over your bulge. It is a close second, however, seeing the sweat on her tits again, or the curves of her back or her butt.

Jisoo's kisses are gentle yet demanding, exploring every inch of your neck and chest as she leads the way. Her sweet panting against your skin adds to the forbidden feeling of being in a deserted gym at this hour. You slip your hands into her hair, running your fingers through the soft strands as she takes you deeper into her world with each slow, desperate lick along your muscles. You feel like you're being worshiped by her tongue, and you wonder how a goddess can worship. Her body presses against yours, grinding against your hardness through the fabric of your sweatpants while she teases you mercilessly. The warmth between her legs beckons you closer as she moans into your neck, inviting you to take what she so clearly wants to give.

Finally, she pulls back and looks up at you with a mix of desire and vulnerability in her eyes. "Please," she whispers, her voice raw with need. And before you can question it further, she pulls down your sweats and underwear together, freeing your erection from its confines. Her hands wrap around you, stroking slowly to test the waters as they glide up and down your length. You gasp at the sensation of her soft palms on your skin, feeling the calluses from hours of training mixed with her tender touch. Then she kneels down between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bench with little effort. "You know how long I've been wanting to taste this?" Her rhetorical question has you imagining all the times in the past you've wanted to fuck her, all the times you've wanted to keep her bent over in her yoga pose and slid your cock inside.

You close your eyes as she takes you into her mouth, feeling a rush of pleasure as her warm breath tickles your skin. You grip the bar above her head tightly as she starts to move, her lips sliding up and down your length. You can't resist leaning back into her touch, enjoying the sensation of her tongue swirling around your head before taking more of you in.

Her hand gently squeezes your balls while the other plays with your perineum, sending waves of pleasure through you. The sounds of her sucking and slurping fill the room, making it difficult to keep quiet. As she gazes up at you with a smirk on her lips every few moments, you feel like the luckiest man alive.

You watch as she admires herself in the mirror while bobbing on your cock. Her eyes never leave yours as she starts to stroke herself through her leggings, the leather creaking beneath you both. "Fuck," she whispers before looking back up at you with determination. "I want you inside me."

She stands up and quickly removes her shoes, pants, and underwear. There's no teasing this time, just raw need and desire in her eyes. You wonder if this gym bench can handle the intensity she's about to bring. Gripping onto the bars of the squat rack next to you, Jisoo positions herself above you with ease. She spreads saliva over your erection with her small hands, but there is already ample wetness from her own arousal. Slowly inch by inch, she takes all of you inside until she's completely impaled on your cock. Her arms wrap around your neck and her eyes never leave yours as she moves her hips back and forth in a slow rhythm. The sound of the leather bench creaking only adds to the taboo excitement of the moment.

Her breasts sway with each thrust, brushing against your chest with each movement. You grab one firmly, feeling her nipple harden under your touch as she grinds down on you. Her breath hitches as she looks into your eyes again, both of you consumed by desire. It's exhilarating to see her like this: uninhibited and craving more.

A glance in the mirror confirms how wild this situation is—the two of you making love in an empty gym late at night—but it only adds to the intensity for both of you. You watch her body move above you with a mix of arousal and pride as her trainer. You know just how much effort she's put into maintaining her incredible figure, all the hard work and dedication despite her busy schedule and strict diet. And now, that same body is moving around your cock, her labia gripping onto you tightly. You thrust upwards to meet her movements, feeling her tight walls clenching and releasing around your length. Her eyes close as she leans forward, and you and Jisoo kiss passionately.

As you break the kiss, you say, "Show me how well you've learned your squats."

Jisoo smiles. "Of course." She slides up your cock, which slaps against your abs with a wet noise, covered in her slick. She turns around and gives you a full view of her backside. While you got a decent glimpse of it in the reflections, seeing it in full is like seeing a painting in person. Her neck, her shoulders, the muscles in her back. The hourglass shape along her waist and hips to her toned thighs. They're enough to end a man with sight alone—and then she lowers herself on your cock once again, riding you reverse cowgirl as you lean back, your hands behind your head, in the sexiest core workout of your life.

She grinds down on you, making you beg for release as her act of worship continues.

Your fingers find their way to her hips, guiding her rhythm as you watch the most beautiful woman you've ever seen grind on your lap. The sight of her ass cheeks bouncing, the sounds of wet flesh slapping against your cock, it's all too much. Her eyes flutter shut in pleasure and she tosses her head back, moaning your name loudly in the empty gym. Her movements become faster, and harder against your grasp as she slides up and down your length with ease.

"Fuck," she gasps between breaths, "you feel so good." You bite down on your bottom lip hard enough to stifle a groan of approval as she rides you like a champion athlete. "I'm gonna... Fuck!" she shouts, as her legs tremble.

You sit up and wrap your arms around her torso as her body begins to shake, and here, you fuck her through her orgasm. You can see her eyes rolling in the mirror, and by the time your lips are on her neck, you only see the whites. You fondle her breasts, thrust upward into her, and feel her melt into you. "That's it, cum on my cock."

Jisoo's moans get louder and louder. Slick warmth surrounds you as she cums, tightening around your cock. She feels so good that you can't help but lose control too, though you manage to pull out before you start to pulsate. Regaining some of her awareness, she clasps her thighs together around your shaft, and you pump into the delectable pressure and friction. Fucking her thighs, you spurting and spraying all over her legs, her midriff, and her tits. You can feel her soft pussy lips still throbbing in sympathy, and the two of you ride out your climaxes together for what feels like forever.

[justbelievinginmagic]

when worlds collide - part 1: welcome aboard.

pairing(s): ATEEZ OT8 x Fem!Reader

series summary: What if Aniteez appeared on Ateez's ship, Twilight, after being sent through a Cromer wormhole? How would the two crews work and live in harmony when worlds collide?

warnings/tags: slice of life pirate au! silly times. this is the closest to a crack fic ive ever written but its also done in earnest lol. this is pure fluff for the most part. technically theyre in ateez lore timeline. chaotic aniteez, polyateez x reader, sandeoki is canonically a girl idc shes a princess.

word count: ~3.3k

-> next chapter

series masterlist

“Y/N!”

It wasn’t often Y/N was awoken by one of the crew crying out her name from the top-deck. Sure, there were moments she was woken up by a crew mate snuggling into her bunk with her, sun-warmed or bath-warmed returning from their shift. A kiss pressed to her cheek before they whispered a soft ‘go back to bed.’ Yelling from the sun-deck was rare. In fact, there had only been one other time. A time where they had battled a mechanical kraken of sorts, thanks to the Android Guardians. And the very memory struck fear into her heart.

Jumping out of her bunk, Y/N scrambled to find her dark face-mask, her black hat, something – anything to hide her features from an android’s database mind if they were present. Finding only Hongjoong’s cowboy bandana, she was quick to tie it around her mouth as she hobbled out of the cabin, half-awake but fearful. The cabin door shut with a heavier clank, and she felt the ship tilt to one side suddenly. Tumbling into a wooden post with a thud, she heard a commotion on the main deck that was barely audible through the creaking wood of the pirate ship. There was a clattering and clanking of items tumbling and shifting canons moaning as the ship continued to tilt.

“Let go!” she heard Hongjoong cry out.

With the rudder clicking loudly far off, the ship steadied itself once more. She quickened her step, grasping onto the stairwell’s rope railing, stomping up the stairs, and pushing open the latch to the sun-deck upwards. Her head popped up through the opened space, and she glanced about.

The bright suns blinded her for a moment; they were so far above the clouds that the sea of fluff only made the brilliant twin-suns burn everything into a fuzzy white haze. But as the sun spots and constellations of rainbow fractals in her vision faded, she only saw chaos on her beloved ship. 

Strange tiny creatures were chasing after the men she knew and love. Their little screeches were not very intimidating yet she still saw San run away quick from a purple-cat thing? as if they were! These beings all wobbled on two legs with over-sized heads that looked fuzzy and soft-looking in the sun. The tallest was perhaps 3 Star Apples tall she pondered; the over-sized apples probably looked like melons next to them though.

Across the deck, there were fights breaking out between the creatures and the feared, wanted pirates. Seonghwa was trying to pull a creature with brown fur and a small wiggling tail from a tall barrel of Mini-Melons that suspiciously rumbled with chomping sounds. A puddle of fruit juice soaked into the wooden planks below.

A pink-rabbit creature wobbled and warbled as it tried to chase after his frantic friends tormenting her crew. Its tiny arms reached out to soothe the others with chittering sounds as it quickly caught the purple cat that had been chasing San by its tail. The lavender-kitty let out a squeak of surprise, almost tearfully looking at the other, before curling into the bunny, daintily. It gave up the fight so quickly it was almost funny.

Some of the creatures were running in circles, panicking. A puppy-dog sort of creature was doing so, fear riddling its features as it took in the large ship, oversized in their perspective.

Others were facing off with her crew mates more directly.

“Y/N! Help!”

Wooyoung cried out from nearby, half perched on a barrel. A black-cat creature hissed at him before turning its head to look at her – following Wooyoung’s gaze on her. Its dark eyes widened at her before turning back to look at Wooyoung, dramatically. The creature wobbled on his feet (almost like their heads were too large for their little bodies, making them clumsy) to grab at the barrel’s edge. As if it could hoist itself after Wooyoung.

“Get back!” Wooyoung slapped at a paw.

The cat let out an unimpressed grumble before hissing again.

“Captain!” Yunho called out, tugging a map from another puppy-figure, that was so tiny next to Yunho that it was almost humorous. The tallest and smallest played a sort-of tug-a-war.

“Busy!” Hongjoong cried out as he fought his own creature at the wheel.

A large tail towered over the orange-furred squirrel?? The little thing let out its own constant stream of gibberish; its wild eyes fixated on her captain with such intensity as they pulled and spun the flying ship this way and that.

While the ship was mostly just jostled by the back and forth movements, every now and then they dipped to one side and the other. All beings – fuzzy and not – would let out shrieks until together Hongjoong and the squirrel would level the ship before eventually it happened again.

The bear creature, faced smeared in bits of Mini-Melon flesh and running away from Seonghwa’s approaching form, tumbled into her legs powerfully, making her plop onto the floor. She let out a shriek. The bear too squeaked in surprise; their eyes meeting for a moment before he was lifted up and off her by Jongho.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” he asked, holding the bear out like a disobedient child as it kicked and wiggled.

“I think so. Thank you, baby.” Y/N replied, catching her lost breath.

Seonghwa stopped beside Jongho and in front of Y/N with a huff. “What are these things?” he queried.

The bear creature babbled and wriggled. Y/N went to stand in the meantime before the ship shifted once more and she lost her balance alongside everyone of the ship. The entire crew tumbled to the ground heavily, even Hongjoong. Jongho thudded to the ground loudly; the baby bear was tossed from his grasp and tumbled into the other animal creatures nearby like a bowling ball into bowling pins. There were groans of pain from them before the entire crew felt the ship dip.

They let out screeches and warbles of fear; the pink creature pushing a few of the crew behind him; the black cat latched onto a puppy-dog.

The ship cut through the air, the crew sliding and banging into one another as the direction of the deck became steeper. She felt Yeosang’s hands, dainty but strong as ever from hauling himself up and down to the crow’s nest, grip onto her and tug her away from hitting a nearby crate. She was pressed into his chest as they finally came to a stop. Mingi let out a gasp as he hit the side of the ship beside them. A duckling-creature thudded into his chest, next, with a warbled cry.

The air rattled through the sails inconsistently as they dipped down and towards the right wildly. Clouds cut through the ship’s keel with a ploof, shaking the ship with a turbulence.

Hongjoong grasped onto the edge of the helm, gritting his teeth and digging his boots into the wood planks. He glared up at the squirrel creature who was half-hanging onto the wheel, clinging to the handles with a wide-eyed look of surprise.

“We have to stop!” Hongjoong snapped at the creature. “Or else, we will fall from the sky – got it?”

The orange-furred being’s nose scrunched, almost insulted that Hongjoong thought he didn’t know that! His ears twitched and his tail jittered erratically behind him. With a huff, Hongjoong hoisted himself up to grab onto the other half of the wheel, hands gripping onto the other side’s handles.

“Truce?” Hongjoong prompted to the creature who wanted to claim control of the ship so eagerly.

It looked the Captain up and down. After a mutter under its breath, it let out its own shriek of a sound. His gigantic head nodded firmly.

Agreed!

Together, it and Hongjoong spun the wheel to an even level. The entire crew and the creatures let out a sigh of relief. Y/N sagged into Yeosang’s arms; his hand rose to pet over her hair soothingly. San and Wooyoung were tangled up; the purple kitty cat pressed to their side. Mingi glanced down at the duck creature on his lap.

It warbled up at him, tilting his head at the healer curiously.

“Hello?” Mingi said softly.

It tumbled back in surprise, rolling back and off of Mingi’s lap in a pile.

The orange-squirrel let out another string of babbles from the nearby helm’s platform, loud and demanding. His paws went to his hips as he looked over to his crew of creatures. The pink-bunny’s ears popped up from inside a barrel of fruit – how did he end up there?

It chirped out and hoisted itself out with a huff. Standing on the rim of the barrel, it looked towards the pile of crew members. It’s high-pitched chatter was almost cute if it wasn’t also commanding, mind you. The duckling made a soft sound before rolling upright and wobbling into the nearby puppy-dog’s welcoming embrace. They giggled at one another, dusting at invisible grime from the battle, before holding hands and wandering over to the squirrel. One by one, the creatures formed a huddle around their squirrel leader; the pink-bunny nudged the black cat towards the group warningly as it hissed at them in passing.

Yeosang and Y/N exchanged glances before they heard a low whistle.

Their first mate, Seonghwa, lowered his fingers from his mouth, giving them a steeling look. Yeosang nearly hoisted Y/N up by her arms as they stood quick. And, one by one they fell in line behind Hongjoong. San crossed his arms; Wooyoung tilted his head at the black-cat.

The two crews faced one another; the gentle breeze of the calm skies ruffled hair and fur, alike.

“You can understand us?” Hongjoong clarified.

His hips tilted as he steadied a glare at the squirrel. It babbled out a reply; the tune sounding like ‘duh!’.

“We can’t understand you, not really,” Seonghwa commented from nearby, his hand resting on the butt of the musket slung across his chest. When had he slung that back on? He rarely wore his musket. He sauntered up beside San.

There was a gasp in the animal-creatures. As if surprised there was this language barrier.

“Why are you here?” Hongjoong followed up. “How’d you get here?”

The puppy-dogs shifted forward, stumbling into the squirrel nearly and babbling over one another. The one with longer ears tugged at the squirrel’s tail, quite chaotically, as he exclaimed something. All the squirrel did was let out a squeak over the chattering, turning to glare at the offending-puppy who smiled innocently.

“Can they write it out?” Y/N wondered, leaning on Wooyoung’s shoulder. His arm went around her waist easily.

“In creature-ish?” San commented nearby, raising a brow. Doubtful as it was jesting.

She nudged his strong shoulder with her hand (slinging it over Wooyoung’s shoulder to do so). She was trying to figure something out. It was worth a shot. San chuckled at her.

There was a sound of agreement, of delight nearly. And then one of the creatures had brandished a thing of chalk triumphantly.

“Oh…” San mumbled with a pout.

Quickly, the shorter dog-creature drew out a shape onto the floor boards. One triangle, another triangle, a circle…

“The Cromer?” Hongjoong breathed, eyes widening at the symbol.

There was a squeak of agreement by the dog and the squirrel.

“The Cromer brought you here?” Seonghwa clarified. “You know of the Cromer?”

The squirrel nodded; his tail bounced, pleased.

“How?”

The squirrel chittered out annoyed that they couldn’t just get it. He shrugged his shoulders and looked to his crew for aid. The black cat huddled closer to steal the piece of chalk, scratching out the symbol and drawing a ship, an arrow, and a cloud.

“You… flew into a cloud?” Jongho said.

There was a grumble of disagreement. Another member of the animal crew stole the chalk, the bunny this time, and it drew an hourglass with sparkles above the cloud and an arrow from the cloud to the Cromer symbol.

“The Cromer made a sort of time-traveling cloud and you went through it?” Yeosang prophesied.

How did he get that from that?

“On purpose?” Yunho added, doubtfully.

Together, the creatures chimed out a negative sound – except for the squirrel who glanced aside innocently. Hongjoong eyed the leader carefully at that.

“You’re lost, then?” Y/N clarified, kneeling down, and eying the creatures and their illustrations at a closer range. “This isn’t your dimension and you know it.”

There was a sound of agreement, almost bouncy in tone as the creatures nodded.

“Why did you attack us, hm?” Wooyoung argued out.

There was a glance between the animal crew as they huddled closer together, protectively…shamefully.

“You were scared?” Mingi asked.

There was a whimper from the lavender cat and it clung to the long ear of the fluffy-maltese-esque puppy dog.

“We won’t hurt you – we’re Ateez.” She told them, reassuringly. “We help others, okay?”

Now, Hongjoong was the one that glanced away at that; fingers fiddled with the gold on his phalanges. They all did help others, but, as much as they were Robin Hoods, they also enjoyed their pillages. The squirrel���s ear twitched, and he tilted his head at the Captain.

Meanwhile, the bear creature eyed Y/N carefully, shuffling closer as if to test if she was telling the truth. His big eyes took in her facial expression; her genuine soft smile. It nodded with a rumbly reply. Its head was large; shimmering fur glinted in the sunlight. Its face was sweet as it smiled up at her, buck-toothed. Its babbling reply was incoherent but by its tone she could tell it was positive. The bear turned to say something to the others encouragingly.

Slowly, the others spread out from their tight-knit huddle, relaxing just a smidge.

“What’s your names?” Wooyoung prompted next, hands going to rest on Y/N’s shoulders as he peered over her.

The bear said…something. It was a warble of sorts, guttural and distorted by the warbling chatter that was their language. None of the crew could understand. There was an ‘ah-ha!’ sound from the squirrel suddenly and he stole the chalk from the pink bunny.

One by one, he drew a little face on the ground of each animal-creature, a bit messy and crude in nature but identifiable, and a wrote a name above it. It was hard to decipher, the writing almost more symbols than text. Squiggly lines and swirls. It was definitely not of this world and yet…

“Jjoongrami?” Hongjoong sounded out, looking at the mischievous drawing of the squirrel.

The squirrel squeaked out in excitement, pointing to itself proudly. His head bobbed up and down, his tail nearly dancing in joy.

“Bbyongming?” Mingi read out.

The duckling warbled clapping its paws? How did a duck have paws?

“Hetmongi!” Yeosang guessed quickly. He loved doodling a character named Hethet! What a coincidence!

One by one they sounded out their names and there was a back-and-forth if there was miscommunication. But it was almost like fate, a different crew member could read another creature’s scribbles.

“That was surprisingly easy,” Seonghwa sighed.

“Well… hello, we’re Ateez. You’re aboard the Twilight.” Hongjoong introduced finally after a look from JJoongrami, ear twitching in patience. Just as they wanted to know who the intruders were, the intruders wanted to know who they were… where they were.

He tapped his own chest. “I’m Hongjoong, the Captain.”

With a grandiose gesture, he glanced to Seonghwa before introducing him: “My First Mate, Seonghwa.”

The long-haired man raised a brow at the creatures, still careful, despite the slowly-charmed smirk on his lips.

“Yunho, Navigator.” 

Yunho, with his mussed dark brown hair over his eyes, shifted his goggles on his head before offering a salute.

“Yeosangie, our Look Out.”

The deep-wine red-head tilted his head at the creatures carefully, only having a flicker of a smile appear at the sight of Hetmongi.

“Y/Nie,” Hongjoong patted her head; Y/N grinned up at him before dropping her head to look at the other crew. “The Helmswoman. Heads it when I'm away, of course.”

“Sannie.” The buff man offered a smile at the creatures easily. “He’s our Bosun.”

Mingi grinned with snake-eyes, an attempt at intimidation despite the softness that was Mingi, as Hongjoong introduced him next. “Mingi, our Healer.”

“Wooyoung,” Wooyoung interrupted Hongjoong boldly. “I’m the best Cook in all of the skies and seas.”

Hongjoong huffed affectionately, rolling his eyes. He gestured to Wooyoung as if to punctuate the other’s introduction. His hand then shifted, pointing towards Jongho. The stoic man stared with pursed lips at the other group, examining them.

“Jongho, our Gunner.”

The creatures mumbled out an acknowledgement before Hongjoong quickly redirected their attention, standing in front of Y/N and the crew once more. Taking control of the situation. Y/N stood, shifting to Seonghwa’s side.

“That’s the crew. Now give us a moment, lads,” Hongjoong requested to the creatures. “So, we can talk - as a crew.”

There was a squawk from the kitty named Sandeoki.

 “What? What’s wrong?” Yunho exclaimed hands raising in defense.

The black-cat who they now knew was called Wooyonyang mischievously stole the chalk and drew a quick crown over Sandeoki’s doodle.

“Oh, not… lads,” Hongjoong exclaimed. “Lads… and lady. Only one lady?”

He eyed the pink bunny carefully, but there were no further explanations (in the form of squeaks or squawks). Sandeoki preened at the clarification nonetheless, and the group nodded along.

“Alright, lads and lady,” he said once more before gesturing for his own crew to huddle across the ship.

“You all alright?” That was the first question.

There were nods; Wooyoung rambled about how he was hissed at. San rubbed his back reassuringly.

“What says all of you?” the Captain prompted. “What should we do?”

“I think… the Cromer sent them for a reason,” Yeosang commented.

Yunho nodded along.

“I don’t think they’re dangerous,” Seonghwa added, draping an arm across Jongho’s shoulder. “Frightened but not outwardly cruel.”

Jongho raised a brow, stern-faced.

“They’re cute,” San argued, even if Wooyoung gasped dramatically. Cute, his ass. Wooyonyang tormented him!

“They know about ships it seems,” Y/N added. “If they came from one like they said. They will be helpful.”

“There will need to be an agreement,” Hongjoong raised a brow. “I can have Jjoongrami stealing the helm again like that.”

“I think they were just scared, Joongie,” Seonghwa reassured.

Hongjoong’s seriousness didn’t ease at his first mate’s comment.

“I’m not convinced,” he said. “That squirrel…”

“He’s mischievous,” Jongho agreed.

“Of course, you’d clock that,” Yeosang commented.

Jongho smirked slyly. Despite his seeming stoicism as the gunner, he was the most mischievous maknae.

“Eight more mouths to feed,” Wooyoung lamented.

“They’re, like, us – I think. Would you abandon a doppelganger of yourself?” Yeosang prompted.

A scoff left Wooyoung, always ready for a debate or a moment to be bold. “Yes.” He exclaimed. “Who trusts doppelgangers?!”

Seonghwa raised a brow, lips twitching into a snarl of a sneer.

Y/N glanced over at the animal-creatures. They too were huddled up, talking. It was cute to see how mirrored they were.

“We can’t just abandon them.”

“You want to keep them?” Hongjoong said.

“They need our help,” Mingi mused, looking at the creatures over Y/N’s head.

He saw the puppy dog and the duck huddle closer, a frightened pout coming to Tyudeongi’s face as the squirrel chattered at his crew. Mingi reached out and wrapped Y/N in his embrace, hugging her close. His chin rested on her shoulder.

“We can’t just abandon them somewhere; the Cromer works in mysterious ways. You know that.” Seonghwa said.

“Captain, what’s the worst that could happen?” Y/N asked.

Hongjoong sighed, hand raising to press against his nose bridge. He could name so many things. But he was no dictator – freedom, expression, this is what he lived for. And his crew wanted this.

“Alright, fine…. They can stay.”

Yippee! They could hear the creatures’ celebrations, because, of course, they had been listening in by that point.

"Welcome aboard!" Y/N cheered.

Hongjoong let out a deep sigh. What were they getting into?

[mommyslittlebird]

(Based off an actual incident involving my own dog shortly after I started fostering him) Wanda getting upset over something and crying and puppy determined to make the feel better crawling on top growling anytime someone even Wanda tries to get them off Wanda until she stops crying.

Wanda had been through a lot in her life. From being raised in a war torn country to losing her twin brother, she had suffered a lot of trauma, leaving her with frequent flashbacks and panic attacks.

And you could sense them better than she could sometimes.

You were a service hybrid, technically, but that never stopped you from taking your duty as Wanda’s helper very seriously. You were always on the lookout for the signs, sensing the spikes in her heart rate and the erratic way she breathed.

Most of the time, you caught it before it happened, informing your mama it was time to get to a safe place. But that wasn’t always possible.

This was one of those times where it wasn’t.

You were in a grocery store with Wanda, sitting in the car and chewing on a rubber toy when the fire alarm started going off. The lights started to flash. A deafening siren blared in your ears. It only went off for about a minute before it stopped, and a voice came over the loud speaker.

“Attention shoppers, we apologize for the alarm. We’re having some electrical issues at the moment, but we’d like to assure you there is no fire or need to evacuate. Thank you and happy shopping!”

You looked to Wanda, ready to laugh about the situation, only to find her frozen, heart pounding, breath shallow.

“Mama?” You asked, worried. You crawled out of the cart, putting your front paws on her stomach and helping her ease down to the floor. You knew what was happening.

You slid yourself under her shaking arms, putting your whole body weight against her to apply gentle pressure. “It’s okay, mama. You’re gonna be okay. You’re safe. I’m gonna keep you safe.”

But her panic was only beginning. Even as you curled up against her, her breath started to quicken and she started to gasp for air. You simply stayed put, lightly licking her jaw. “It’s okay, mama. You’re doing a good job. Just take some deep breaths.”

You were so focused on Wanda, trying to imitate deep breathes, that you didn’t even notice the woman who grabbed Wanda’s shoulder until she was crying and trying to push her away. “No! No! Please get off me! Please!”

When the lady didn’t budge, you growled, forcing her backwards. “Hey! Get away from her! That’s my mama! You’re scaring her!”

When she finally backed away, you noticed that Wanda’s panic attack had garnered a small crowd. You circled Wanda, forcing people backwards. “Go away! Everyone go away! Leave my mama alone! You’re scaring her!”

As soon as you disbanded the crowd, you grabbed a bag of frozen corn from a nearby freezer, carrying it back to Wanda and crawling into her lap once again. You pressed the cold back gently against her head.

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you tight and close. “Come here, baby. You’re a good puppy. The best puppy anyone could ask for,” she said, still sobbing. She wrapped your leash tight around her hand so there was almost no slack left. “Do you think you could help mama find her way out of the store?”

You nodded dutifully, helping her to her feet. You left the cart, grabbing only her bag before gently tugging her to the exit. You even managed to find her car in the stores big parking lot, carefully dodging people and cars as you guided her to safety.

She climbed in the back seat, lying down with you clambering in behind her. You continued to lay on her chest, resting your head against her beating heart and licking away her tears.

“You really are the best and bravest puppy in the world. Do you know that?” She giggled through her tears. “You protected your mama and stayed calm even when I was panicked. You helped me get out of the store. You even remember where we parked the car, smart little thing.” She ruffled your hair affectionately.

You continued to lick the salty tears from her face. “I love you, mama. I’m gonna protect you forever and ever.”

She giggled. “I love you too, baby. I’m sure you will.”

[hikentomori]

pairing: nanami kento x reader

contains: established relationship, piss kink (?), holding it while he pees, gender neutral reader, blowjob, uhhh i don't know tell me if i missed anything; word count: 1k

author's note: missing him expeditiously. . . repost from my old blog. @luckiestangel told me she thinks about this often and honestly? so do i so here we go!

please read my rules before interacting! minors, ageless / blank blogs will be blocked!

sunlight shone through the half open curtains of your bedroom as kento rose from his slumber. looking at his alarm clock, the screen showing 5:40am on a sunday, he let out a heavy sigh and padded to the bathroom, his body yelling at him to relieve himself.

his feet went pat, pat, pat on the floor. the sleepiness making him uncaring for the cold floor beneath his toes. that same sleepiness shrouded his ears in cotton, not noticing your quieter footsteps following him.

there were only three instances where kento would pee standing up: he was either in a hurry, drunk or sleepy like right now. and you and your perverted sleepy mind couldn't be happier about that. from behind him, you observed his freckled shoulders, how his arms and back flexed while he pulled his pajama pants down just enough for his dick to spring out. kento acknowledged his half hard state, blaming it on morning wood and hormones. he still hasn't noticed you.

sneakily tiptoeing up to him, he flinched when he felt your finger trace along his ear, the back of his neck, along the plane of his shoulder and down his bicep. his heavy eyes widened as he slowly turned his head to look at you. “w-wha–”

you shushed him gently, your other hand splaying out against his chest, slowly sliding sideways to pinch his perked nipple. he squirmed as you played with him some more, pinching and flicking his buds until kento cursed, feeling his pulse quicken and his skin heating up. his head hung low in shame, the tips of his ears flushing a crimson color.

“just let me help,” you murmured against his skin, pressing a gentle kiss onto it. your other hand slid down his abdomen, lower and lower and lower. until your smaller hand wrapped around his half hard length.

kento let out a quiet whine, squirming in your hold. you were standing behind him, so it's not like he could just escape your grasp easily. (technically he could, but the logical part of his brain was still asleep and the primal part was aroused and curious at once.)

kento’s gaze fell down to where your hand was wrapped around his cock and it twitched, warm and silky in your hand. his breathing started to become heavier, sweat accumulating at his brow.

“c’mon big boy, let it all out,” you mused, voice raspy and still laced with sleep. his cock twitched again at your words, its weight growing heavier by the minute. you grinned against his damp skin, your heartbeat speeding up to match his. his panting filled the bathroom before a gentle stream of urine started flowing, quiet splashing creating white noise.

“oh my, ken. are you really getting hard from this?” you teased, licking your lips as kento squirmed in your firm but gentle hold. “what a little pervert you are, i never knew.”

shame burned in his veins, turning his blood into lava and sending his sleepy brain into overdrive. this was so weird to him, so taboo, so disgusting, so filthy. unlike him, in short. kento prided himself on being straight-laced and clean-cut, there's no way he would find this arousing. this was gross, so taboo and yet he couldn't stop himself. his brain kept running, questioning why you found this hot, you weren't even getting anything out of it. he couldn't see the hearts forming in your pupils and the arousal making your thighs clench together. you were just watching him piss and his brain couldn't piece together what about it aroused him so much, blaming it on the early hours. but your hand was so soft and grip so gentle that he couldn't think straight.

kento let out a raspy moan, his knees buckling at the relief. his hands found the cool tile to steady himself as the stream slowed down to a drip and your hand started moving up and down his length. he felt himself swell even more, his full balls constricting as he started bucking into your hand. “please, please, need more,” he whined, his little horny noises bordering onto whimpering and you pressed gentle kisses against his shoulders with a hum.

he didn't understand a thing and yet, here he was, rock hard and fuzzy-brained at your hand so gently squeezing at his tip to let the last drops come out. he was flushed crimson red, sweat running down his forehead, neck and the planes of his chest. the cool bathroom tiles only provided a small relief to the heat that seemed to engulf him.

once his breathing started to steady itself, you gently pushed kento to turn around. he looked at you bewildered, his eyes widening slightly as you dropped to your knees. he looked like a corrupted angel, skin dewy and flushed, blonde bedhead with strands sticking to his face, pupils blown wide and lips slick with spit.

you leaned in with your tongue stretched out and started swirling your tongue around his tip. you moaned, savoring the unusual but not unpleasant taste, silently thanking kento for keeping up a healthy diet and hydrating enough.

his hand found your cheek, gently caressing it as he tried to keep his hips steady. you wrapped your lips around his cock, taking him deeper and deeper until your nose brushed against the soft patch of hair at the base. you inhaled deeply, revelling in the pairing of his musk and perfume. kento groaned, his dick twitching and leaking profusely. his hips involuntarily bucked against your face and you let off with a gasp, spit connecting your lips and his flushed cock.

he was whining, trying to get your mouth on him again but you had other plans. getting back up to your feet, you reached over to flush the toilet before tucking kento’s cock, still an angry red and leaking precum, back into his pajama pants. confusion painted his face, rooting him in place as he watched you wash your hands and turn your back to him. he was dumbfounded, baffled and unbelievably horny.

looking back to him over your shoulder, you taunted: “you coming back to bed?”

© hikentomori 2025 – all rights reserved, do not copy, modify, repost, translate any of my works. do not feed my works to any kind of ai.

[bluekidchaos]

I don't need to know where we begin and end (I'd still know you)

there is so little haymitch smut so i made some myself :3 might write a similar fic to this but no smut only angst and fluff maybe..

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, nightmares, panic, unprotected sex, technically age gap but it's not mentioned, pet names (sweetheart and baby), no use of pronouns but female parts mentioned

Words: 841

Can also be read on AO3!

Back to masterlist.

You wake up with a scream, sweat dripping down your forehead as you pant. You feel arms holding you down and you trash in a panic trying to get loose, your ears are ringing and you look around the room frantically catching your breath and trying to reassure yourself that you are safe at home and not in the arena. 

Your eyes land on Haymitch, who is fully awake next to you, holding you in his arms and shushing you. His voice finally cuts through the ringing and you hear the panic in his own voice. 

"Sweetheart, you're safe, you're in district 12. Not in the arena." He's petting your hair and rocking you slowly. "I'm here with you, it's alright."

You turn in his arm and cling to him, sobbing into his chest and he holds you tight. The pressure of his arms around you grounds you as he keeps talking, telling you you are safe and he's there for you. 

When you had calmed down a bit more he asked what he could do to help you, always being so caring and gentle in moments like these. 

"Distract me, please?" You answered as you kissed him sweetly. He nodded and kissed you back, a bit more intensely.

Haymitch used his weight to position you on your back again with him leaning over you, still kissing you. One of his hands cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip and pulling it down a bit. He used the opening to slip his tongue inside your mouth, letting it glide against your own. You moaned into his mouth and bucked your hips against his thigh. 

His lips traveled down your neck, sucking and nipping at all the right places, leaving little marks in his path. Neither of you bothered undressing properly, only pulling up your sleep shirt to expose your chest so he could wrap his lips around your nipples. 

Haymitch was only in a pair of pajama pants so your hand dragged down his stomach towards his cock. Nails scraped over the sensitive scars there before dipping below his waistband and wrapping around his hard member. He let out a groan at the feeling of your warm hand around him.

His own hand slipped down to pull your panties down, fingers dipping into your heat. Spreading your lips apart and smearing your wetness over your clit. Rubbing his finger gently in a circular motion and adding more pressure with every swipe. 

Your head drops to Haymitch's shoulder as you moan out at his movements, panting into the space between his neck and shoulder. You plant light kisses over his neck, "Please, fuck me Haymitch..." Words trailing off as his hand once again quickens its pace. 

He groaned at your desperate whines and nodded his head eagerly. 

He moves his hand to reach back to his bedside table to grab a condom but you stop him and lock eyes with him. He looks at you confused for a second. "I really wanna feel you, just wanna feel you, all of you." 

"Fuck, sweetheart, of course-" Haymitch moves the two of you so your leg is slung over his waist and positions himself at your entrance, looking back up at you for consent before pushing inside in one move and moaning at the feeling of you. "God, baby, you're gonna be the death of me." Planting more kisses all over your face as he starts to move. 

Your hands plant themself on him, one around his shoulder to claw at his back with every thrust that hits your sweet spot, and one tangled into his hair. You used the leg not around his waist to help push yourself up and down on him, following his pace. Lips alternating between messy kisses and planting hickeys on each other, any surface of skin you could reach in your current position got covered in bruises and bite marks. 

Haymitch's hands hold you close to him, groping you and grabbing at your plush hips and ass to get you even closer. One hand lands on your thigh to help you move with him and the other sneaks down to your clit. Rubbing circles over you that makes you see stars. 

The room was silent except for the sound of your breaths and quiet moans. 

Your eyes lock with his, silently telling each other you're close, your cunt clenching down on him hard while his hips stutter in their pace as he's pushing the last few times before you fall over the edge. Haymitch's orgasm is just behind. 

Lips attaching as he fucks you through your orgasms. Heavy breaths, high-pitched moans, and low growls carry through the room as you both calm down. 

None of you bothered to untangle your limbs, just staying in each other's arms and laying in the afterglow. Haymitch's arms hugged you close to him, his hand stroking your back lightly. "You feel any better, sweetheart?" 

You chuckled in his arms, planting a final kiss on his lips with a smile, "Much."

[anonymityisfunwriter]

hear me out... sunshine meets deadpool 😭

deadpool and sunshine? i mean... YES OF COURSE!!

We shall dub them... SunPool? DeadShine? I'll let you guys decide. Thanks for the ask! 💛

Finder's Keepers

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series Masterlist Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

“What in the fuck knuckles is this?” Sam hears a voice echo through the halls of the Avengers Compound.

“This is the Avengers Compound,” you exclaim.

“You guys get a Compound, the X-Men get a fucking school, and what do I get?”

“An incredible sense of humor?”

Sam’s pace quickens as he hears your voice slowly getting further and further away. He rounds the corner, stopping before you and the red suited mercenary. “Who the hell is this?”

“Sam, this is Wade. Wade, this is Sam.”

Sam rests his hands on his hips, “What did I tell you about bringing home strays?”

You shrug, “He’s not a stray, technically.”

“She’s right, you know. You may have this Compound, but I have a blind roommate with a massive coke problem.”

Sam immediately shakes his head, trying to usher Deadpool out, “Okay, no, he cannot be here!”

“But Sam… he needed help.”

Sam juts his thumb at Deadpool, “If Bucky finds this guy here, he’s gonna kill him.”

“Bucky? Bucky Barnes? Oh, I’m a big fan of that guy. You know the whole metal arm, raining bullets down, ugh,” Wade dramatically shudders. “Yup, I think I’m in love with him.”

You snap your head in his direction, “Hey!”

Wade shrugs, “Too late I called dibs. Finder's keepers, it's the law.”

“Are you gonna tell me exactly how you’re helping him?”

“Why? Are you gonna help us?” Wade asks, plucking Sam’s goggles from his waistband. “You know, I think these could really add to my look.”

“I’m not helping you,” Sam snatches back his goggles. “I’m helping her.”

“Well, we just need to get him into the armory.”

“You want to give this random stranger access to the Avengers’ armory?”

“Well, we can watch him. It’s fine, Sam. He’s trying to be one of the good guys.”

“Trying to be? What does that even mean?”

Sam’s question goes unanswered as you stand before the reinforce armory doors. You rest your hand against the keypad. From above, FRIDAY chimes, “Voice activation required.”

“Pinkie Pie,” you call into the voice pad.

“Access granted,” FRIDAY calls.

“Pinkie Pie?” Wade scoffs. “You’re telling me this author couldn’t come up with anything better than a line I used three movies ago?”

“What is he talking about?” you whisper to Sam.

Sam shrugs, a concerned, borderline disturbed look on his face, “I have no idea.”

“Hey, Wade?” You gently rest your hand on Deadpool’s shoulder. “What are you looking at?”

He continues glaring off into the distance, “The fourth wall.”

“Sure, Wade, come on, let’s sit you down.”

“You know, you’re kinda sweet.” Wade gently boops your nose. “I think I might keep you. Finder's keepers.”

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarnes @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan @marvelatthem @capswife @1-akira-2

[folkwhoreberry]

Leo valdez x tutor!reader fluff with a bit of smut

Exposition Of Love

leo valdez x reader

or... the one where lines are blurring together

word count : 870

warning : none, english is not my first language!!!

on the radio : adore you by harry styles

part 2

🔨🌻

who would’ve thought that leo valdez, the nerdiest looking person in camp half-blood is in need of a tutor?

certainly not many, but here we are, with you sitting at a desk with hephaestus’ son, attempting to explain the concept of exposition in literature to him.

“you see? it’s just the first few sentences of the story, it gives you the basic information about the story, like main character, time, place, and the general topic of the story.” you said, pointing to the first paragraph of the (not so) short story you were reading in literature class.

“ohhh,” leo drawled out, tapping his pencil against the edge of the desk. “so it’s like the part where the hero gets his dramatic entrance?”

you couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to understand the material through his own perspective. “yeah, sure, something like that.”

he leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips lifting into a playful grin. “got it. exposition. dramatic entrance. I can work with that.”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “you’re impossible.”

“impossibly smart,” he corrected, giving you that mischievous smirk that always managed to make your heart skip a beat. he stretched his arms above his head, his t-shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of his toned stomach, and you quickly glanced away, focusing hard on the page in front of you.

you could feel his eyes on you, though, and it was hard to concentrate when he was so close. this wasn’t the first time you found yourself in this kind of situation with leo. ever since you’d started tutoring him, your sessions seemed to blur the lines between study time and whatever this was - lingering glances, teasing touches, and a whole lot of unresolved tension.

“so, does this make me your favourite student?” leo asked, leaning in a little closer, his elbow nudging yours. his voice was softer now, teasing but with an undertone of something more.

“you’re my only student,” you said, trying to keep your tone light and neutral, though your pulse quickened. “so technically, yes. but it also makes you my least favourite as well.”

“hmm, I’ll take it.” leo’s fingers absentmindedly played with the pencil, spinning it between his fingers. “but seriously, thanks for this. I know I’m not the easiest person to teach. I guess I’m more of a ‘hands-on’ kind of guy.”

there it was - that classic leo flirtation, wrapped in a joke but carrying just enough weight to make you wonder if he meant more by it.

you decided to play along, leaning in a little yourself. “well, I’m happy to help. but if you keep slacking off, I might just have to let you fail you.”

leo’s eyes flickered with amusement, but there was something else there, too - something a little more intense. “you wouldn’t do that. I’m too charming for you to let me fail.”

“charming?” you raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “I don’t know, leo. I think you’re going to have to prove it.”

“oh yeah?” he leaned closer, his face now just inches from yours. you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and your heart sped up. “how do I do that?”

you swallowed, suddenly very aware of the shift in the atmosphere. this was new. this was different. and for a second, you forgot all about exposition, literature, and camp half-blood. all you could think about was the way leo was looking at you, the way the space between you seemed to be disappearing by the second.

“leo…” you started, your voice quieter now, unsure of where this was going but not wanting it to stop.

he didn’t move away. instead, he tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicking down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your gaze again. “yeah?”

for a split second, you considered closing the gap, letting this thing between you finally tip over into something more. but before you could make a decision, someone cleared their throat from the doorway.

you jerked back in your seat, heat rising to your cheeks as you turned to see piper standing there, a knowing smile on her face. “am I interrupting something?”

“nope!” leo said quickly, straightening up and pretending to look intensely at the book in front of him. “just, uh, learning. you know, literature.”

piper raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but she didn’t press the issue. “right. well, I need to steal leo for a minute. cabin leader stuff.”

“oh, thank gods,” leo muttered under his breath, shooting you a quick, teasing glance. “saved by the bell.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the lingering butterflies in your stomach. “you better study tonight, leo, or you’re going to fail the next test.”

“I’ll study, I’ll study,” he promised, standing up and tossing his pencil onto the desk. “maybe you can quiz me tomorrow? same time?”

you bit back a smile, nodding. “yeah, sure. same time.”

he gave you one last grin before following piper out of the cabin, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts and the memory of how close you’d come to crossing that line with him.

————————————————————————————

© all rights reserved to folkwhoreberry. no stealing or copying will be tolerated.

a/n : sorry nonnie I couldn’t find the right place to put smut here :// but I’ll do might do a smutty part 2 so what do we say about that

[bernardsbendystraws]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒛𝒐𝒏𝒆

⚠︎  mdni, smut, alcohol abuse, parental neglect, overall mature themes, and more [ this is made for all parts ]

⤷ Get to reading, sluts. No copying. Ask if you’d like to use this as ‘inspiration.’ Fuck off and fuck me, lets get horny!!!

with love and big tits, Rose Toy

©bernardsbendystraws

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chapter 15: Remedies Of Honey

My brain was scattered. No thought was coherent enough to put into words as I laid deathly still in bed, technically, my own bed.

Ironically enough, it didn’t feel like my room. Even though Laura and Madi had helped me move in my things to the simple bedroom, it didn’t feel like it was mine. It felt like a hotel. Matt’s room was the scene that came in my mind as I thought of ‘my’ room. 

Matt. 

His name echoed in the walls of my head with utter confusion. He wasn’t a liar. The only time he had ever lied was to protect me. I watched him time and time again be the sweetest person to everyone around him, always supporting those he cared about. 

I thought I was one of those people. Now, I wasn’t so sure. 

With my dad, it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t surprising either. He had never shown me that he cared. He had never tried to care. 

Matt was different. 

Matt clouded the air around me with a sickening sweetness that I had become accustomed to. The subtle lingering touches that he littered on my body constantly felt like a breath of relief. So natural and easy, yet something I had never even dreamed of having in my life. 

Love scared me. I didn’t know anything about it. With Matt, I didn’t used to be scared, but with every rustle of the branches outside my window, time seemed to take its toll as my thoughts seeped in with unanswerable questions. 

Why would he not tell me?

What else was he not telling me? 

My phone screen had replayed the same video a multitude of times I zoned out. A message popping down from the top of my screen brought my attention back to reality. 

[From Matt: Hey, everything okay? Nick told me you’ve sent him like 30 TikToks, why aren’t you asleep?]

My fingers stay frozen in place as I watch the notification disappear. Was this all just out of pity? Was this his escape? 

Did he ever even want me? 

[From Matt: I’m coming over to pick you up. Meet me outside in five?] 

I huff at the message, pulling open the chat. My fingers hesitate over the electronic keyboard. 

[To Matt: Why?] 

[From Matt: Please. Nick and Madi were texting and he told me what happened. It’s not what you think.] 

[To Matt: Okay] 

I reluctantly pull the covers off of my body, stepping out to the cool air in the simple t-shirt and sweats. Both Matt’s. 

Had I really let him consume every inch of me already? 

I flatten the material of the wrinkled shirt while stepping out of the room. Quietly, I make my way down the stairs. I patter towards the front door, grasping my keychain tightly to prevent the metal jingling. 

I pull the door open ajar, stopping at the squeal of the wind rushing through the void. My eyes peer through the crack, Matt’s flushed cheeks puffing with heaving breaths of air. 

I squeeze through the door, shutting and locking it behind me as I listen to Matt’s breathless huffs. As I turn around, he reaches out a hand. My hands stay trained at my sides as I glance down at the open palm. 

“Please,” he says with a pleading tone. “---I can explain. Please, just…just trust me.” he finishes. 

Nodding slowly, I put my hand in his. His fingers clasp around almost instantaneously in a secure, gentle manner. “Where are we going?” I ask. 

He shakes his head, pulling me behind his stride between the two houses and into his backyard. “Just…trust me, okay?” he says. 

Squeezing my hand in his, our pace quickens down the dirt path. “Okay.” I say quietly. 

The light posts fade into the distance from the street, leaving only moonlight. Step after step, the lake comes into view. The shining reflection of the night sky makes my eyes wander over the water. 

Matt reaches over to the tree, grabbing the picnic blanket that had been slung between the oak branches. He drops my hand, flicking out the large square of fabric. The blanket lands, covering the section of grass with the blue checkered pattern of material. 

He sits down on the blanket, pulling his knees up to his chest and crossing his arms over his knees. He looks up at me, the silver moon dancing in his irises. I melt under his gaze. My knees buckle as I land softly next to him. I mimic his position. 

My eyes glance back towards the water, my head urging me to lean on to his shoulder. The tired ambiance of my brain lets my subconscious fall to action. I let my neck relax, my temple resting lightly on his shoulder. 

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I feel one of his hands wrap around, cradling my head. How could I not trust him? 

The secret weighing down on me had felt so heavy alone in my bed, but it didn’t anymore. Not here with him. The doubts seeped through the cracks of my mind like water. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. 

His shoulder rises and falls with a hefty breath beneath my head. “I was going to. I really was, I just—I didn’t know how. I tried, I really did, I swear. But…” he trails off. I feel the comforting weight of his head fall gently on top of mine. 

“But?” I urge. 

“I didn’t know how and I could never find the right time. I was first gonna tell you after my hockey game. The one, well, the one where, you know…” he airy words seep through the breeze. 

“Then,” he rubs the side of my head with his hand briefly. “--everything just kept going wrong. It hurt to see you crying every night, I couldn’t put more on your plate.” he says. 

My heart softens at his words. He was doing it for me, not to me. His intentions were as pure as his soul. My muscles fall more relaxed against him with the comforting aura of his affirmation. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve–” I bring my head off his shoulder. His eyes gleam into mine with a somber gaze. I reach out my hand, caressing the underside of his cheek. I look between both of his eyes with a soft smile displayed on my face, watching the wrinkles relax between his eyebrows. 

“It’s okay, Matt. I trust you. I understand.” The truth leaves my lips as I watch his teeth peek out from his curled lips. As we look into each other’s eyes, I find myself unable to take my eyes off of his. 

I see his eyes travel down to my lips, darting quickly back up to my eyes. I lean into him, letting my eyes close. Anticipation floods my system as I feel his breath fan across my lips. 

His hand comes up, wrapping around the back of my neck and gently pulling me towards him. Our lips meet with a soft kiss, the warmth of his mouth seeping onto mine. I feel the tip of his nose graze my cheek as he pours passion from his lips with each movement. 

I put my hand onto his shoulder. My head tilts upward, chasing his lips with a soft and slow energy. He matches my rhythm, my stomach fluttering from the sensual lingering movements. My lungs begin to scream for air. I find myself unable to pull away, chasing the delicate beckoning of his lips calling my own. 

A soft smack echoes through the withering wind. He leans his head down, his forehead resting against mine. Our breaths combine with breathless gasps of air. The lack of air makes my mind even hazier, intensifying the feeling from the intoxicating passion from his lips. 

“I…I bought you a ticket to come with us to LA for spring–” he says. I let out a soft laugh, interrupting him. 

“I know, Madi told me. You’re insane. I can’t believe you bought me a plane ticket.” I exclaim softly. His eyes look into mine through the short distance. I notice every detail that the moonlight highlights. The pale color of his blue eyes is like ice, but looking at the hue of color makes me feel nothing but warm. 

He smiles at me. My cheeks ache from the extraneous use of the muscle, my lips still pulsating from the kiss. “I don’t wanna pressure you, I…I just want you to see what life could be like out there…with me.” he says.

He doesn’t want to leave me. He wants to leave with me. 

I bite down on the soft flesh of the inside of my cheek, fighting back an award winning grin. My stomach swirls with excitement and a feeling of extreme care towards the soft man sitting in front of me. 

“I’d love to.” I express. I see his lips curve downward, an upside down smile forming with resistance. He shakes his head with a light chuckle, the movement moving my own head in the slightest against his. 

He looks back up at me through his eyelashes, a sight I immediately try to engrave in my memory. “I’d really love to.” I emphasize. He sucks his lips between his teeth before scrunching his nose with a smile. 

“There’s no pressure though, okay? Even if you don’t come–” his smile falters at the thought. “--I’m still coming back to visit all the time. I want you to do whatever makes you happy, no matter what–I’ll visit you.” he finishes. 

What makes me happy? 

He makes me happy, Madi makes me happy, his family makes me happy, but what else? 

“Hey,” he squeezes on my shoulder. I snapped my eyes back at him, realizing I had spaced out with the taunting thoughts. “--what are you pouting about?” he asks. 

“I…” my mind wanders back and forth. He brings his hand up, caressing my hair behind my ear and bringing my attention back to his eyes. “I don’t know what I want to do, Matt. I’ve always been so worried about everything else…I just, I don’t know.” I sigh. 

“I don’t even know my favorite things.” I mutter out with disappointment. The sinking weight clambers down on my chest as I feel the warmth of his forehead against mine dissipate. I lean back from him, my eyes trained on the blue checkered material between my hands resting on the blanket. 

His fingers loop beneath my chin, pulling my head upwards. He looks in my eyes with a sparkle of moonlight reflecting in his pupils as they dilate. “You do.” he says. I shake my head reluctantly with a slight frown. 

I go to object, my lips parting. “You do.” he repeats. I look up at him as my head tilts to the side, leaning with a huff. “Come on…you do, I know you do.” I give him a small tug of my lips, shrugging my shoulders. 

He shakes his head, “You know so much. You do, I promise. I mean…you’re so…you. You love root beer, you love chocolate chip pancakes, hot chocolate, and the shortbread chocolate cookies–damn, you really do love chocolate.” he laughs. 

He caresses his hand on the bottom of my jaw, biting his lower lip with a smile. “You also love coloring, old disney movies, club penguin, stuffed animals, and—how could I forget, McDonalds ice cream.” he says. 

A smile pulls on my lips as I prod my tongue in the side of my mouth. Each piece of information spills into my brain as I curate the list in my imagination. He was right, but more than that—he was sweet. 

Matt had always been very sweet. Honey and sugar envied him. Not even the sweetest candy could compare to the sickening sugar that coated his lips from his words. His soul oozed an aura of comforting sap, something that should make a person sick from indulging too much, but I couldn’t get enough of it. 

To swim in his honey pool felt like a magical remedy healing every wound, even the scars so deep in my soul that I had forgotten they were there. I wasn't scared of getting hurt. The pond of his heart puddled in front my eyes, cushioning every cautious step into places my mind labeled as danger.

“I know you. I know you enough to know that you know yourself. Give yourself some credit.” he says. I soothe the fabric of the blanket under my fingers, the thin material allowing me to feel the pillowy grass beneath it. 

“You seem to know a lot. I didn’t know you paid that much attention…I really appreciate it.” I express in a soft whisper. 

“I could go on for hours.” he teases. 

I squinted my eyes at him with a cock of my eyebrow, challenging him. “Really?” I question. He gives me a curt nod. 

“Mhm. You say your favorite animal is a penguin, but it’s really a moose. You’ve always wanted a pet. Hmm…what else? Oh–you love gardening, you want your own greenhouse one day….” he trails off as I look at him with nothing but adoration. 

His parted lips fall closed as his smile beams at me. “It’s hard to think when you’re looking at me like that.” he points out. I let out a soft laugh, shoving my shoulder into his playfully. 

Balancing my weight on my palms, I lean forward, gently pressing my lips on his cheek. The skin flourishes with a red hue under the pale moon, the tint traveling up to his ears. 

“You missed one thing.” I point out. He looks over at me swiftly. I pull up my hand, shifting the messy brown locks out of his face. My hand falls to his shoulder as he looks at me curiously. 

“You are definitely on my list of favorites,” his smile grows with his teeth peeking out from his lips. 

“Really?” he says. His eyes squint at me. I nod my head affirmatively. 

“Mhm,” I lean, letting my head rest back onto his shoulder. 

As I let my body relax into his body warmth, my mind eases completely into the moment. I feel his head resting on top of mine, the grass tickling my fingers from poking through the blanket, and the night breeze blowing with a soft wind. 

“You are my favorite.” he whispers from above me. I hum, nuzzling my head further into his shoulder as the smile becomes bigger onto my face. The smile that had never even left. 

_

As the night grew colder, Matt’s worry for me getting sick did too. I hadn’t wanted the moment to end, and it still hadn’t. Our bodies laid tangled together under his pillowy comforter, our body heat radiating with a perfect warmth. 

My face presses against the bare skin of his chest, his tattooed arm thrown behind me and pulling me closer to him. He hums, hugging me tighter as I let out a soft giggle. 

“What are you doing?” I ask. His playful eyes glance down at me with a soft smile. 

“--’m just want you closer.” he mumbles. I pull myself up by placing a hand on his shoulder. I lay my head on the pillow, my face inches from his. I feel his arm underneath the pillow curl upward, his hand tangling in my hair. 

“Like this?” I ask. He hums, leaning forward and nudging his nose on mine. The sigh escapes his lips, the warm air brushing along my cheeks. My eyes wander down to his lips, his tongue darting across deliciously, the moonlight seeping in reflecting on the now wet surface. 

I feel myself leaning forward before I can stop myself. The taste of his minty lips hit mine, the cooling sensation of the leftover toothpaste being drowned out by the heat of our lips together. His tongue prods at my lower lip before slipping into my mouth. 

The added aggression of his actions makes my stomach churn with desire, his hand latching tightly into my hair mindlessly with a gentle grip. A soft moan escapes my mouth. His fingers grab securely onto my waist, kneading the flesh with greed. 

“Fuck,” he mutters against my lips. The word barely pauses his desperate movements for a second before he’s hungrily pouring his devotion, kisses being littered along my jaw and down my neck. 

The lower his lips trail, the more my front mindlessly arches further into him. The wet saliva makes my skin form goosebumps with the cool air brushing against the damp spots. 

As Matt’s lips arrive at the hem of his shirt on me, his eyes flicker up to me with a questioning look and a lust filled haze. “Can I take this off?” he asks. I nod, partially sitting up and throwing the shirt to the floor, leaving me in just my underwear.

The cold air barely touches my skin before Matt has his hands wrapped around me. He engulfs me in a hungry embrace, my skin tingling from his lips and tongue traveling on the top of my bare chest. 

A rough shriek escapes my lips as I feel his teeth clamp down lightly on the skin of my breast, a suction from his mouth and the skin making the blood rush to my cheeks as my hands dart to his hair. 

“Matt.” I whisper out breathlessly. 

The single word escaping my lips results in his lips becoming more messy on my skin. His mouth envelopes around the peak of my breast, his teeth lightly grazing the bud of sensitivity. The sensation shoots straight down to my core as my hips move against his thigh mindlessly. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” he lets out, pulling his lips away. “I don’t wanna rush things. I wanted tonight to just be sweet and—fuck, I can’t help it around you. I’m sorry, I–” 

I don’t let him finish. The pulsing between my legs clouds my mind as carnal desires guide my movements. I push him to the bed, straddling over his bare stomach. I lean down, placing my lips back onto his. His hands immediately grab onto my hips, clenching the flesh in his hands. 

Our lips part as I kiss down his neck. He swallows thickly as I kiss the flesh gently, letting my teeth graze the skin. A breathy exhale leaves his mouth as I let my hands wander down to his lower stomach as I scoot back on his lap. I let out a whimper at the bulge prodding between my legs, my hips stuttering over his dick beneath me, begging to feel more. 

I resist the urge as I bring my lips off of his skin, bringing my head upwards as my hands trace his snail trail with the tips of my fingernails. I watch as he sucks in a breath, his eyes screwed shut as his head throws back into the pillow with parted lips. 

I let my finger loop beneath his sweats teasingly. He grabs my wrist with one hand, the other cupping around the back of my neck. Our lips meet messily, his mouth parting with a breathless heaving as I let my touch teasingly linger over the waistline of his pants. 

“Can I–” “Please.” he cuts off, not letting me finish.

The desperation in his voice fills me with confidence as I smirk, pressing my lips back to his chest that rises and falls with heavy breaths. I take my time, swirling in back and forth patterns with my hand on his lower stomach as it clenches and twists beneath me. 

My movements are halted by him latching back onto my wrist. I look up, seeing his glazed eyes looking down at me. “Please, fuck–I need–yes, oh my god.” he breathes out as I cup over his bulge. 

He moves his hips up, grinding into my hand as I palm him through his sweats. I watch as his head snaps back into the pillow, a quiet, broken grunt sounding in the night air. 

I loop my hand in his sweats. His hips lift upward, allowing me to tug down the material. The sight of his imprint through the tight briefs makes my breath hitch in my throat. 

My hand reaches out, palming him once more. The thinner material allows me to feel more of him. It allows him to feel more. I see his hand gripping the sheets with white knuckles, his other hand in his mouth as a muffled moan sounds. 

I loop my hand around the waistband of the briefs, his hips lifting once more. I drag the material tantalizingly slow. I watch as he grows impatient, his hips squirming beneath me. He leans down, pulling it off completely and tossing both his articles of clothing to the side. 

I let my hand reach out to his aching member. My actions are halted by his hand clasping around my wrist. I look up at him, seeing his reddened cheeks and his concerned eyes. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do anything.” he says. 

I nod with an affirming smile. “I really want to make you feel good.” I whisper out. His eyes widen as I see him gulp. “Is that okay with you?” I ask. 

He nods quickly, his hazy eyes clouding further with lust as he wets his lips with his tongue. “--want that so bad. But–we can stop whenever, okay?” he says. 

I hum in response, letting my lips greedily wander down to his chest. I let my hand clutch more firmly around his hardened cock. A gruntled breath falls from his lips. “Fuck, so good, baby, so fucking good.” he hisses. 

My confidence grows at the praise, letting my hand slowly tease his wet tip covered in precum. His hips rut upward as his hand curls in my hair with desperation. 

Trailing my lips downward, I continue palming him. As I get eye level with his crotch, I let my eyes wander up to him. His eyes are trained on me with his bottom lip locked in the clutch of his teeth, turning white. 

I look down, gathering spit in my mouth. I let my lips part, the salvia dripping onto his tip. I hear the muffled groan from him as I let my tongue taste him. The salty taste meets my mouth as I greedily lick him up and down, wetting every inch of him. 

“Please, I need–please.” he begs. I hum, finally satisfied with the lubricant as I envelope my lips around his tip. He gathers my hair rushedly with his hands, holding it in his grip with his right hand as his left squeezes onto my shoulder. “Oh fuck.” he grunts out. 

I bob my head slowly, taking more of him in with each movement. His hand leaves my shoulder, muffling the sounds as he bites into his clenched fists as I look up at him between my lashes. His jaw quivers as I pick up the pace, his hips chasing my mouth. 

“Faster, please, please, please. I can’t—I need more—oh,” his jaw lifts as his head throws back in blissful pleasure. 

I cover my teeth as I take more and more of him at a faster pace. I keep my tongue pressed along him firmly as his hand shakes in my hair. I reach back, holding his hand in my hair. 

I pop my mouth off of him, a whine escaping his mouth. “Matt, you can hold my hair, baby.” I assure. 

He mindlessly shakes his head from side to side. “--don’t wanna hurt you.” he mumbles. I reach up, caressing his cheek as he leans into my hand. He looks at me with a blissed out expression. 

“You won’t. You never do, Matt. I’ll tap you twice if I need to, okay?” I suggest. 

He nods as I make my way back down. His fingers clasp tighter in my hair, gently pulling at my scalp as my mouth sinks down on him once more. 

I bring my head upward, bobbing his length in my mouth. His tip hits the back of my throat as I gag slightly, taking less of him and keeping the same pace. 

The whimpers and moans muffled by his fists are barely audible. The quiet noises of my lips suctioning against him and his reactions quietly echoing through the room as I keep taking his length repeatedly. 

As his grip becomes tighter, a slight burning sting in my scalp makes me whimper against him. “Fuck, sorry–so sorry, sweetheart. Doing so good, oh my god.” he mutters with a strained voice. 

His grip loosens, his fingers gently massaging the area. The soothing sensation distracts me. I take him further into my mouth, relaxing my mouth as his tip ruts against the back of my throat. His stomach clenches, his thighs raising off the bed as his mouth gapes open. 

“Oh my fucking god, oh fuck–baby, baby–so close,” he rants breathless in a small whisper. His eyes beam down at me as I look up at him. “You–fuck, you don’t have to. Fuck–if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum in your mouth, baby.” he warns. 

I hum against him, keeping my pace. His hand gasps tighter in my hair, a slight sting that I ignore as his hips stutter in an uneven pace. A warm sensation spills down my throat as he rides out his orgasm, a loud whimper muffled by his hand. 

His hips fall lifelessly onto the bed. I pull my lips off of him, coughing as I try to catch my breath. I feel Matt tapping me, looking over to see him pushing his water bottle into my hands. I take it from his hands, silencing my coughs with the cool water. 

I push the bottle back into his hands. “Thank you.” I voice. 

He nods with a soft smile tugging at his lips. He brings the water to his own lips, chugging a couple gulps before reaching over and placing it back on the nightstand. 

He leans down, pulling his briefs back on. He reaches over the bed again, lifting up his shirt that I was wearing with raised eyebrows. I nod, taking the fabric and throwing it back over my head. 

Matt lays back on his side, holding the blanket up for me as I crawl back into his arms. As I wrap my arm around his waist, I frown. “What’s wrong?” He asks. 

I look up at him, holding up my pointer finger before scooting backward. I sit up, pulling the shirt back over my head and letting it fall back onto the floor. 

Matt gives me a questioning look as I crawl back into his arms. I lay my cheek on the pillow next to him, his hand traveling and holding me by the waist.  His arm lays under the pillow beneath my head, curling upward. 

The action sends my face nuzzling into the crook beneath his chin. I sigh as I feel his bare skin on mine. “Are you okay?” I hear him ask in a hushed tone. 

I pull away, nodding and pecking him on the lips. “Mhm, just wanted to feel closer to you,” I mumble with half-closed eyes. His chest rumbles with a light laugh as he tugs me in closer. 

His fingers curl into my hair from behind. “--’m sorry if I hurt you.” he says. The slight sore sensation of my scalp is soothed by his light massaging fingers. 

I sigh at the feeling. “You’re okay, Matt…that feels so good.” I hum out. His fingers continue the motions in my hair as my body relaxes into him. 

“--’m so tired, but I really appreciated everything today.” I mumble out. His motions stutter, bringing my attention forward as I fight sleep. “--I trust you, I shouldn’t have been overthinking so much in the first place. Thank you.” I say. 

He hums against me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “--’m course. I never wanna hurt you. You mean…you mean so much to me.” he confesses. 

My heart swells at the sweet words falling from his lips. I nuzzle further into him, his hands tightening as he lightly grazes his chin on the top of my head. “Now, go to bed, sleepy girl.” he says. 

I hum, letting my limbs fall languid. Our body heat radiating in a cocoon beneath the sheets lured my mind further from conscious thoughts as my eyes fluttered closed. The smile lingers gently, tugging on the edge of my lips. 

As sleep consumes me, the curl of my lips stays, my subconscious keeping thoughts of him rolling through my mind like movie scenes. Dreams don’t even compare to this man—my man. 

@sturniolosmind @freshloveforthefit @gnxosblog @sturnreblog @milasturniolo @mattscokewhore @melanch0lybby @stars4matt @samandcolbyfan22 @ruedowney @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @greatooglymooglyyy

@txssvx @junnniiieee07 @sturnstvs @sturnioloblogs @sunsetsturniolos @flowerxbunnie @rootbeerworshiper @sturniolohoe @mayhem-7-blog @braindead4l @lovergirl4387 @hearts4chriss @1horrormoviewhore1

@mattslolita @hearts4chris @nicksmainbitch @imfromthediningtable @st7rnioioss @sturniololol @nedsmarie44 @tomskookie @itssophiasstuff @chrissystur @chrisstankyleg @cloudykitten2004

@abruuu01 @riasturns @strnilolo @chrissystur @lrs-jenkinson

@yourfavoritefangirl @stonermattsgf @x3rox @cookiehaos

@iloveneilperry @lullvu @chrattstromboli @sstvrnioloo @seahorsie11

@sturnzsblog @sturnikitty @sturniol0s @sturnioloa @stasiesturn

@imwetforyourmom @matty-bear @pinklittleflower @mattsaq

@realuvrrr @sofiaannaleise @ariieeesworld @chrisstankyleg @hiraethlimerence

@ryli3sworld @wtpdhoe @eileenhou @lov3bug @jamiesturniolo

@jake-and-johnnies-slut @lovesodakid @simply-a-simper

@graysturns @glassesmattsbae @sturnsfav @unbruisable @dsturniolo

@sofie-1 @timmyscomputer @sturniolo-fav-matt @millyswife @ash-gaming13

@strmbolisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal @ribread03 @sturniolo04

@strnilolo @chrattstromboli @veysxrge @matthemunch44 @giannasturn

@orangeypepsi @erinelizabeth1989 @that1fangirl @sturniolo-fann