#and for reach because im shameless...

[pigeonpalacade]

Sneak peak of the butch wolvie page I'm working on... hehe

[lovieku]

OLDER ⋆ 정국

you’ve tried, but you can’t help yourself from crushing on your best friend’s dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter’s birthday party, you don’t expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.

pairing: dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader

genre: smut, dilf au, best friend’s father

warnings: lower case intended, porn with some lots of plot, age gap (21 n 38), dom!jk, sub!reader, voyeurism, messy blow job, fingering, oral (f receiving), bit of tit play (small chested reader yayyy), two (2) spanks, unprotected sex, cum eating, dirty talk, a bit of degradation, but also praise, pet names, some angst hehe, she falls first he falls harder??? but miscommunication sadly, forbidden love

ratings: 18+ / mdi

word count: 18.2k

a/n: i kinda hate this it doesnt make sense anymore to me but when i realized i was already 12k words in so 😃 here you are! its also so hard to write smut for me because i get carried away but then it becomes too overwhelming Help. anyways. im back hey!!!!

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in the backseat of his car, you stare forward at his hands gripping the steering wheel. there’s something hypnotic about the way his fingers curl around the leather. you bite your lips, an attempt to suppress the heat easily pooling low in your belly, your thighs rubbing together to conceal the effects of your lewd thoughts.

but amid them, one stands out. it’s the one that puts a shameless, selfish smile on your face, when you fixate on the image of the fourth finger of his left hand lacking a gold band.

it’s been a few months since that day— since areum, your best friend, showed up at your door in a frantic state, her finger jabbing the bell over and over in a panicked rhythm that jolted you from your bed.

you had nearly tripped down the stairs in your rush to swing the entrance open, and when you did, you were instantly tackled by your friend collapsing into your arms, her tears soaking through your shirt.

kicking the door shut, your hands busy embracing areum with panic in your eyes, you tried to steady both her and yourself. in between her uncontrollable sobs, shaking you to the core, she let her worries tumble out her mouth. her words came in a torrent, fast and breathless, barely giving you any time to fully process them as she buried her face in your neck, her body trembling.

it took a moment for the huge news to break through your thick, slowed down brain, but then it struck you, areum chanting it repeatedly as if she couldn’t grasp her mind around it: her parents were splitting up. divorce was imminent.

your own disbelief mirrored hers, but for very different reasons. you felt it in the way your shock turned into excitement; indecorous, depraved exhilaration, with your friend still hiding in your chest.

even as her sobs echoed in your ears, your mind latched onto one single thought, repeating like a mantra: he’s single. mr. jeon is single.

you felt terribly guilty when you sensed a smile that you couldn’t quite suppress stretching over your features, and the jittery sensation that came with it flowed your body and reached your hands, tightening them around areum harder to try and squeeze the shame out of yourself.

since that day, you’ve lost count of how many afternoons you’ve spent at areum’s house. you’ve been doing your best to be the friend she needs, to keep her company when what she fears the most is loneliness.

you’ve been a constant presence, helping her through the mountain of neglected work she left piling up, distracting her with baking sessions, or mindlessly binge watching entire seasons of friends on lazy evenings. anything to keep her mind off the pain.

but each visit is an opportunity. a fleeting chance to see him. to study how he moves around the house with that quiet intensity of his, a presence able to fill every room like a calm, steady current.

you’ve memorized many of his mannerisms. the way his eyes soften when he looks at areum; the way his mouth twitches into a faint smile when she tries to cheer him up; the way he nods at you in recognisment, silently letting you know he’s grateful for what you’re doing to help his daughter.

you wish you could help him too. in other ways. ways you know you shouldn’t be thinking about.

you can’t avoid it, though. you’ve witnessed him come back home from work countless times now, watched the tension etched across his features as he steps through the door, wished you could be the one to ease it off his shoulders. let your hand travel down his chest, reach his belt.

you feel disgusting unfailingly, but how can you not let your mind wander when he groans so deliciously every time he loosens the tie around his neck and kicks off his shoes?

you know exactly what his next move is, the imperceptible sigh melting the weariness off his face the moment he greets his daughter, a tender smile breaking through his exhaustion.

“any requests for dinner tonight, girls?” he always asks, his gaze jumping between areum and you on the living room couch, waiting for a response.

after your friend replies she likes whatever her daddy cooks, your stomach twists with nerves when his eyes meet yours to make sure there’s no complaints, and you quickly shake your head, biting your lips to keep from saying something foolish. is your dick on the menu? perhaps?

and the man can cook. exceptionally well. he moves around the kitchen with an effortless grace, every movement purposeful, every dish you have the honor of tasting better than the last.

while you help setting the table, you catch yourself staring more times than you should, mesmerized by the way he chops vegetables or stirs a pot, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s anything he’s not good at.

fuck. is there even a single flawed bone in this man’s body? with every day you spend at his house, you’re convinced there can’t be.

you want him to notice you, the same way you notice him. you tell yourself you’re just being a good friend to areum, but you know there’s more behind your constant visits.

there’s definitely more behind the way your skirts get shorter, your tops tighter, your bras purposefully not worn.

you feel crazed when you convince yourself his gaze falls upon your exposed thighs when he puts a plate in front of you at dinner, or when his eyes seem to be caught, only for a fleeting second, by your hardened nipples, evident through your poor excuses of shirts.

even when your interactions don’t go further than a brief exchange about college and areum or quiet, polite smiles in passing, the mere thought of being around him sends a rush through your veins, a dark and forbidden feeling tumbling in your stomach.

you’ve been seeking more and more of that after one particular night, your feet making their way down the stairs after areum had fallen asleep and you had rathered take your leave. you found him stretched on the couch, a drink in his hand.

his eyes hazily followed your movements, his voice low and slightly slurred, “are you leaving already?”

hearing him acknowledge you outside of the usual context of areum’s presence made you stop dead in your tracks, your reddened cheeks turning to face him, the dark color spreading all over your features when you fully took him in.

he was cladded in a comfortable attire, one you almost never saw on him, black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt falling sweetly on his shoulders, the short sleeves revealing the intricate ink designs running all over his right arm.

you shook yourself out of your trance suddenly, stuttering, “huh… yes. didn’t wanna be a bother.”

he chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, “oh, you’re not. i wish all of my daughter’s friends were like you.”

his words hung in the air, with sincerity and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. you simply laughed along, a nervous, shaky sound escaping your lips, trying to mask the way your heart was racing with desperation for the gods to grace you with the depth of his tipsy voice all night.

to this day, you still think your horny and delusional prayer was heard when he nodded to the empty space beside him, lifting his glass slightly, “care for a drink? you’re 21 now, right?”

you only nodded shyly, more out of reflex than actual thought, slowly making your way to sit beside him just as he had instructed. the proximity sent a wave of heat through your body, your insides melting with the lava, the smell of his cologne and laundry detergent replacing the burned ground with a trail of flowers.

you were willing to do whatever he wanted from you at that moment, even if it meant downing the harsh liquor he poured into a glass for you. you took a sip, struggling not to grimace at the burn that followed. he smiled.

it was probably the alcohol loosening his tongue, but that night, for the first time, you saw a side of mr. jeon that he kept carefully hidden away, his vulnerability a strong characteristic of it.

his words tumbled out in a quiet, almost confessional tone. he spoke about his marriage, about how he had always felt somewhat trapped. still a teenager himself, he was only 17 when he found out his soon to be wife was pregnant with areum; 23 when they decided to marry.

his voice soft, but tinged with a sadness you hadn’t heard before, he admitted he never felt like he got to live his youth to the fullest, certainly blessed with his perfect baby, but also chained down by responsibilities and a tightening pressure he shouldn’t have had to deal with at such a young age.

then, with his eyes burning into your shiny and equally flaring ones, he paused just for a moment, and you felt he could see right through you, into the very core of your being. that he had you all figured out.

“when i look at you,” he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper, his gaze traveling down your bare thighs, squished together on his couch, “i feel like i get a bit of that youth back. you’re so full of life, so fresh, so… full of love for my daughter. i’m glad she has you. glad we have you.”

as he found your orbs again, you noticed his had significantly darkened. you were sure your heart would have failed you if you had kept navigating in his gaze; instead, you looked down at your hands folded in your lap.

that night, he paid for your uber and insisted you sent him a text when you made it home. it was only read the morning after, and left unanswered.

even now, you’re convinced that if it weren’t for the whisky, those words would have stayed locked away in his mind, never seeing the light of day. not even if he were forced to speak them at gunpoint.

still, you’re grateful for the magical effects of alcohol and how they’ve brought you a tiny bit closer to give a look into his complicated world. it has awakened something in you, something stronger and far more dangerous than anything you’ve felt before.

you want to be there for him. help him through the doubts and regrets. be the youth he missed. take the weight off his shoulders. let him use you on that couch.

that feral, undomesticated monster inside you is a hundred times hungrier when, exiting the library building with areum by your side, babbling in your ear about today’s plans, you see his sleek mercedes parked outside.

he honks, getting his daughter’s attention too, who excitedly walks over the car when she spots it. the sound works as a pavlovian trigger for you, it has your mouth salivating and your senses alert, catching up with your friend and getting in the backseat.

it has been a few weeks since you last saw him, both you and areum too busy with assignments and outside activities, and his charming smile as he asks about the day cuts the breath from your lungs.

you’re silent as your friend fills him in, your ears struggling to pick up her speech as it only takes a few more seconds for your eyes to be caught by an interesting detail, one that has your world rocked: he finally took his wedding ring off.

the wedding ring that has stood as an unspoken boundary between you and your reckless fantasies is gone.

the realization hits hard, and suddenly, the reality around you narrows. your mind veers into dangerous territory, conjuring visions that feel too real.

you can almost feel his left hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you in, claiming you. and the images are so vivid, so consuming, that you don’t even notice when areum nudges your shoulder.

you don’t register her calling your name until the sound finally cuts through, pulling you back to the present with a jolt.

you blink a few times, trying to ground yourself, before turning to face her, areum’s voice light but her expression amusedly curious, “dad asked you a question.”

your whole face drops, panic clear in your features, and heat immediately rushes to your cheeks. you’ve been zoning out, lost in a daydream about the very man sitting in front of you, the one you literally just ignored, too busy thinking of him. the irony is almost too much.

your eyes find his in the rearview mirror, and the slight smirk on his lips only makes you look even dumber, stuttering all throughout your explanation, “sorry, mr. jeon. i— um. i was distracted.”

he simply chuckles, low and clearly not offended by your lapse in attention. his focus is back on the road, but as he speaks you keep yours on the words he’s directing at you this time, “it’s okay. i always tell you, just jeongguk is fine. i was asking about your day, you seem a little worn out.”

“oh. i—it went well! i guess i’m just tired,” the words feel clumsy as they leave your mouth, but you hope they sound convincing enough. you just can’t stop your eyes from falling on his left hand.

“well, you can’t be!” it’s areum’s excitement interrupting your furious imagination and bubbling over, “you need to help me set up for tonight. then, we’re gonna do our makeup, our hair, and dress up. i’m so excited!”

right. the reason why you could finally see mr. jeon after weeks and why you’re currently driving to his house is because it’s areum’s birthday.

the day feels significant in so many ways. you’re excited to witness your best friend turn a year older even after the hardships she’s been faced with. honored that you’re the one she’s chosen to help make this night perfect, ensure every detail is just how she’s pictured this moment to be like. and you can’t deny that you feel slightly nervous at the prospect of tonight, knowing there’s going to be faces you’re not that well acquainted with. you’d say you’re a bit awkward with new people, but you’ll try to bear through it for the sake of areum’s happiness.

but mostly, you feel guilty. because no matter how much you try to focus on your friend, the thought that truly makes your insides all mushy with fuzziness is the fact that you’re going to be in the proximity of her dad, again.

you crave for the smallest moments. the brief second where you’ll catch his gaze. the way his cologne will subtly linger in the hallways of his home. your eyes have a habit of drifting to his hands, those strong, veined, tattooed hands that move so smoothly whenever he speaks.

even now, in his car, as you glance at his side profile, there’s a ridiculous and almost cosmic sense of gratitude. like you’ve been chosen. blessed by whatever god to exist on this planet at the same time as him, to simply witness his presence.

it should be enough. it really should. but you’re a sinner. you’re greedy, wanting more. always more.

that buzzing sensation sticks with you throughout the entire day. the hours are packed with frantic energy, as you and areum run around in anxious over-organization, only for her own panic to rub off on you, making your movements quick and precise, as if every step has to be executed flawlessly.

and with all the chaos, he’s there in the back of your mind. mr. jeon. his presence is overwhelming, even when he’s not around.

he helps for a while, joining you in the backyard as you set up for the evening, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to the whirlwind around you. but then he disappears into his studio, retreating into his own space, leaving you to your tasks, and you don’t see him until hours later.

yet, you still feel him, as if he’s always near. his upstairs studio’s window faces the garden, and it’s enough to make you hyper-aware of your every gesture.

you straighten your back, slow your steps, each action more deliberate, because even though you don’t know if he’s really watching, it feels like he is.

getting your makeup, hair and outfit ready with areum does slightly ease that sensation off your chest. you love these moments with her. shared girlhood when you do each other’s eyeliner, the flutter of excitement as you zip up dresses, as you rummage through her closet, searching for the perfect piece to complete your look.

but even then, you’re brought back to the man working just a few rooms down the hallway. it’s astonishing how easily areum has access to everything she wants. the power her dad holds, the kind of wealth that makes life feel effortless in ways you can’t help but envy.

for her, money isn’t just something that buys things. it’s a silent force that shapes her world. she doesn’t have to worry about how much something costs or wonder if she’ll ever have enough. it’s as simple as snapping her fingers.

it must be nice to have that kind of life. to have someone like him in your corner, with wealth that seems to fall into place as easily as leaves from a tree. you don’t resent her for it, not really. but it makes you wonder what it would be like to live in a world where nothing is out of reach.

where everything, even the man who haunts your thoughts, could be yours with the right words or a simple gesture.

when you see him again, you’re standing in his kitchen. areum is still upstairs, fixing the tiniest details to her makeup, but you decided to come down early, just in case the first guests arrive, wanting to be helpful, wanting to keep yourself busy.

you’re momentarily lost in the view outside the window, the backyard garden bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights, their soft hues blending beautifully with the sage and pastel yellow decorations. the setup looks like something out of a dream, and it pulls a small, unbidden smile to your face.

the quiet peace is interrupted by the sound of a cupboard cracking open behind you, and you startle, your heart giving a quick jump.

you turn, following the noise, and there he is— jeongguk, bent over as he retrieves a bottle of red wine from the lower cupboard.

as he straightens up, bottle in hand, he finds your eyes already staring in his. he’s uncharacteristically deliberate as he still lets his gaze wander up and down your figure.

you’ve dressed carefully for tonight, choosing a flowy pink dress that flutters delicately against your thighs. the corset top hugs your waist in all the right ways, accentuating your shape, the kind of dress that makes you feel just a little more confident, a little more seen.

but now, under his gaze, you feel exposed, like he’s seeing more than just the fabric of your dress. his eyes linger longer than usual, and when his orbs dip to your chest, it’s almost as if he hesitates, like he’s trying to tear his eyes away but can’t.

you’re not even sure if the engrossed look on his face is real or just the product of your own twisted fantasies.

still, your body responds instinctively, your hand drifting up to play with your necklace, an unconscious gesture, while your other arm wraps around your waist, as if you’re trying to hold yourself together under the intensity of his stare.

when his eyes return to your wide ones, he gives a subtle nod towards your dress, and the smile that curves his lips is warm, but you can’t decipher that something else it wants to communicate.

his voice is smoother than you’ve ever heard it, as if literal honey, sweet and rich, is dripping out from his pillowy lips, “what a beauty. you look very pretty.”

you weren’t expecting that. it steals the breath from your lungs. it’s not just the words, or even the way he says them, velvet wrapping around your senses.

it’s how he seems to drink you in, his refined wine nothing in comparison. like you’re something to be savored just as carefully.

at this point, you’re seriously questioning if there was a stronger substance in the liquor you and areum shared earlier, even if you hadn’t taken big quantities, each small sip burning your throat and making you grimace at the sensation. but you figure it must have been enough to distort the current reality around you. or maybe, mr. jeon is the inebriated one.

you don't know how you find the voice to speak, or if you even do, the word escaping your lips in an uncoordinated mess, almost imperceptible, “thanks.”

he hums deeply in response, and it vibrates through the space between you. you let out a shaky exhale the moment his gaze finally shifts away. he resumes the task at hand, effortlessly opening the bottle of wine and turning his back to you as he reaches for a glass from the higher cabinet.

the muscles in his shoulders shift under his shirt, and for a split second, you’re unsure what to do. whether to stay, add anything else, flee the room entirely. make small conversation about areum’s birthday. comment on his look, too. oh, you have a lot to say about it.

you can tell he just wrapped up his work-related tasks for today from the way the first three buttons of his white shirt are opened, revealing his deep cleavage. his hair slightly tousled, but in a way that looks purposeful, perfectly intentional. his slacks hug him deliciously, rounding the curve of his ass and making you swallow hard.

your eyes can’t resist trailing over him, but they quickly move up to stare at the ceiling, feigning deep thought when he turns back to face you, and the counter.

surprisingly, he’s the one to break the silence first, again. the rich sound fills the air as he pours the red wine, the motion so precise, so fluid, it feels like witnessing an authentic art form.

he doesn’t bother looking up at you as he asks, seemingly casual, but slightly amused, “is there a boy you’re trying to impress tonight?”

the way he steers the conversation makes you less agitated, more confident. especially with the question thrown your way. teasing, almost belittling. you can see he’s not even trying to hide his pretty smirk, his focus on the wine flowing into the glass.

the question lingers, and you twirl your necklace around your fingers, smoothing down your dress with your other hand, your eyes flitting to his naked left hand, “mh… you could say so.”

of course, you’re not thinking about a boy. mr. jeon is no boy— he’s a man. the kind women dream about but know they’ll never find. the kind that belongs on the big screen or in the pages of a novel, with his effortless charm, his wealth, his looks that stop you in your tracks.

but he’s in front of you. and he’s tall, muscular, with hands that could crush or caress, tattooed in a way that makes your mouth dry up and water all at once.

it’s him you want to impress. you want to affect him the way he affects you, with effortless intensity. you want to pull him in, make him look at you the way he makes your world tilt on its axis with just a glance.

you’re hypnotized as you witness him in one of his rich man activities, performing a ritual with the wine glass. he brings it to his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the aroma.

there’s something so practiced, so sensual in the way he handles the glass, the liquid dancing with delicate precision, as if even this simple act holds meaning. you can’t look away.

when he's satisfied, he finds you again, and your mouth is slightly open without you even realizing it. the moment he lifts the glass to his lips, you bite your own, almost harshly, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

his smile is soft, but there’s something unsettling in its honesty, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

he mutters into the glass, his words resounding even stronger, “well, he’d be a fool not to fall for you.”

the implications of his comment make you swallow audibly, while he downs his first sip of the wine with fine ease, his adam’s apple bobbing with it. the whole time, his eyes never leave yours.

a thick silence stretches between you, and you wish you could break it but you don’t know how. your mind spins with the unspoken tension, but he seems entirely comfortable with it. the only sound filling the space is the quiet hum of the house.

he places the glass back on the counter, the soft clink of it slicing through the quiet. smoothly, he nudges it in your direction, his movements slow, as if testing the waters.

his voice is inviting, even more than usual, “you want some?”

”is that wine?” you instantly cringe at the way you sound strained.

he hums, a low sound of affirmation, watching you carefully.

you briefly glance at the glass, “i’ve never had it.”

”try it, then.”

with a slow twist of his fingers around the base, he slides the glass toward you. as it moves across the marble surface, you notice how he rotates it imperceptibly, but purposefully, so that the side where his lips touched the rim is now facing you.

the gesture is subtle, but the intent behind it is clear. at least to your deranged fantasies.

there’s a faint lip mark where his mouth had been, and the sight of it pulls you in, making your pulse pound in your ears. you look back up at him, finding his gaze still on you, his expression unreadable but heavy with implication.

without a word, you lift the glass, your fingers wrapping clumsily around the stem. you bring it to your lips, your mouth closing over the spot his lips had just pressed on.

the wine hits your tongue— bitter, sharp, and unfamiliar. you gulp hard, the liquid burning slightly as it slides down your throat. your face scrunches involuntarily, a clear sign of distaste. the richness of the flavor is too much for you, and you can’t help but grimace as the aftertaste lingers.

he watches, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. when you set the glass down, he effortlessly picks it back up and brushes his fingers across the rim.

his tone laced with amusement, he asks, “like it?”

you shake your head quickly, trying to hide your discomfort.

his chuckle is low, a soft rumble that makes your stomach flip. swirling the wine gently, he muses, “i heard there’s going to be alcohol tonight.”

you groan lightly, slumping your shoulders, “ugh, i know.”

the endearment rolls off his tongue like a secret meant just for you, his voice dipping into something softer, more intimate, “make sure you don’t drink too much, pretty face. i’ll be around.”

just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your thoughts spinning. pretty face?

what just happened? you’re not sure, but you’ve definitely stepped into something dangerous, something you can’t quite shake.

it’s hard to do so, even as the birthday party kicks off. the energy in the backyard shifts as more guests arrive. lively voices and unfamiliar faces begin to fill the space. areum’s laughter cuts through the hum, infectious and bright, drawing everyone in.

it all contrasts sharply with the weight still hanging in your chest from your earlier encounter with mr. jeon. your eyes keep darting toward the house, toward where you know he is, even though the logical part of you tells you to stop.

you stand at the entrance to the garden for a moment, taking in the scene. the subtle smell of flowers mixes with the faint scent of food, and your best friend bounces around the space, radiant in her dress. you’re genuinely happy for her, honored to share this moment.

and with your best efforts, you start engaging with others, smiling as you talk to some classmates and mutual friends, but it’s all surface-level. your mind is elsewhere.

it’s only later, as the evening progresses and the party settles into a rhythm, that you begin to relax. mainstream music plays in the background, and it inevitably involves everybody, as some classic party games become the main entertainment.

long after the cake and the gift-opening, the group gathers into a loose circle, throwing each other never have i ever questions.

you can’t help the way you all still feel like teenagers deep down, and how you get foolishly excited whenever the topic gets hot, and hints at anything that is sex related.

childish and immature, you know, but your ears still perk when the first probing question is tossed out.

“never have i ever been fingered.”

areum instantly shushes it, her eyes panickedly looking back to the house in hopes her dad isn’t around. laughter bubbles just as quickly, both because of the question and the girl’s reaction.

as expected, many reach for their drink, and you do too. the few present boys holler in a teasing manner, gaining some eye rolls.

sheepishly, the plastic cup touches your lips and you take the smallest sip from your punch. you can’t appear unbothered like your other peers, your cheeks subtly flaming as the embarrassing memories rush to your mind.

it’s silent, the small plea you telepathically send to anyone that might be listening. you pray for the topic to shift to something else, something that won’t inevitably put you at the center of the attention. something you can relate to.

but of course, god is not on your side. the questions only dig deeper, wandering in uncharted territory (at least for you), and you never reach for your glass again.

you can only sink further in your chair as everybody else around you seems even more lively with the way the game has turned, sharing their experiences, giggling as they listen, refilling their cups.

beside you, areum buzzes with energy as every question is just something for her to drink to, nothing that shocks her or that she isn’t familiar with.

never have i ever given head.

never have i ever been ate out.

never have i ever rode someone.

it’s undeniable, the way your skin heats up. with how you’ve been spending your whole day, fantasizing about the man who’s probably already asleep in his bedroom by now, your friends sharing their adventures only fuels your imagination.

you feel dirty when you put yourself in those scenarios, and for every daring moment they relive, the figure that appears beside you is always mr. jeon.

if only you turned your head, just for a moment, and glanced toward the kitchen window that faces the backyard.

you would have seen the same man dominating your thoughts, staring intently at the scene unfolding outside.

jeongguk is hidden in the shadows, the darkness of the house swallowing him whole, with every light turned off. maybe that’s why neither you nor areum notice him.

you don’t see him. you don’t feel him. you’re too caught up in the moment, too consumed by your own desires, unaware that the man that put you in that same condition is standing so close, watching.

jeongguk traces your every move with his intense gaze. he studies how your face dips down at every new question, how your smile seems just a little too tight, too forced when listening to the stories, the ones that make you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

if you don’t notice it, he does almost immediately— the way the attention in the circle shifts toward you.

the glances thrown your way become layered with a subtle curiosity, laced with something that looks like concern. but then, in the eyes of a few, jeongguk catches a faint trace of judgment.

it’s there, in the tilt of their heads, in the way they exchange fleeting looks with one another, as if they sense your unease and interpret it as something lesser. something they can pick apart.

his jaw tightens as he observes, that familiar protective instinct stirring within him. it makes his hands twitch by his side. he stays rooted in place.

eventually, the moment you clearly seem to dread the most (it doesn’t take a genius to know. it’s written on your face. or maybe, he got so used to studying you. it comes easy to him. knowing you,) follows.

it makes you want to vanish into the thin air caressing your legs, the way the question is put out with intent, an only pretending-to-be-careful tone wrapping it, all pairs of eyes instantly directed in your direction.

“never have i ever… had sex.”

you feel trapped, a momentary panic bubbling in your chest as you reach for your cup, hesitant. the rim hovers near your lips as you avoid every expectant glance, taking the smallest sip you can manage.

a murmur ripples through the circle. you can’t decipher it, too busy feeling the heat spread across your face. it’s only later that you realize no one else drank. the question had been crafted specifically for you, a silent test.

lara exhales, a teasing smile playing on her lips, “woah, i was getting worried for a second there, ___.”

you barely have time to react before areum steps in, her voice sharp in your defense, “what’s wrong with never having had sex, either way?”

“nothing, but—”

you’re not sure why you speak, and why you choose your speech that way specifically. you cut in before you even realize what you’re doing, driven by a sudden urge to explain yourself, an unshakable need to clarify forcing itself up your throat, “i only took a small sip, though.”

the group’s collective curiosity spikes, attention zeroed in on you like never before. you feel it— everyone waiting for you to continue, to reveal something you’ve kept to yourself until now. so, you give in, words tumbling out against your better judgment.

you clear your throat, straighten your back against your chair, your tone evasive, “i technically am not a virgin, but…”

the expectation drips from every person around you, their wide orbs trained on you, and for some reason you continue, gulping audibly before providing them with an explanation they don’t deserve, “when we— did it, he um… he got his tip in, but— god, this is embarrassing.”

“c’mon, tell us!”

you sigh, pressing forward with the humiliating truth, “he came, like, two seconds after. so, i felt nothing.”

the laughter that erupts is immediate, your friends covering their mouths in shock and amusement. you can only chuckle nervously, shrinking in your seat with a deep, liberating exhale.

yunjin pats your shoulder beside you, “that’s so sad, babe. we need to find you a real man.”

a strange sense of relief courses through you, the adrenaline from finally being acknowledged and validated by your friends swelling within, and you quickly learn how the buzz spreading to your body after taking part in sharing one of your experiences awakens you significantly.

you don’t know why, but you keep talking, oversharing, feeding into the newfound attention, “oh, i’ve been waiting for one in particular.”

you quickly become the center of attention for different reasons than the previous ones, now. their curiosity flares again, eyes wide with excitement as they beg for more details. who is it? tell us!

their voices overlap, but you dismiss them all with a playful shake of your head, giggles bubbling up as you try to evade their questions.

but just as quickly as the moment came, it fades when you glance to the side, and your smile drops.

jeongguk’s eyes meet yours immediately.

the intensity of the gaze knocks the breath from your lungs, the air thick between you as time seems to slow.

he’s been watching the entire time, arms crossed, the muscle in his jaw tensing as his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. there’s a quiet frustration etched into his expression, a subtle irritation with your friends’ behavior. but it’s more than that. there’s something stirred by your confession.

your inexperience. your innocence. the untarnished parts of you he’s only beginning to realize he wants to corrupt.

the truth is, he’s known for a long time. longer than he’d like to admit, really. but he’s never let himself feel it fully until now.

it wasn’t something that hit him all at once. no, it crept up on him slowly, over the months. he’s always known you were beautiful, in that distant, untouchable way. you’re his daughter’s best friend, after all.

but he couldn’t help his eyes from lingering on you a little too long when you’d come over to hang out with areum, how his heartbeat would quicken up when he’d let himself be coddled by the warmth of your helping actions, the way his muscles would tense when he’d catch sight of you lounging by the pool.

he’d been good at keeping it under bay. but you weren’t subtle, not even the slightest. your fleeting glances, your breath hitching whenever he was near, your clothes putting you on display for him. it all made it harder.

even more when you’ve been nothing but the proof that angels exist, and at some point he convinced himself you were sent on earth to fill the void he felt his whole life, with your unconditional care towards his daughter and your pupils widening whenever they’d land on his.

and earlier, in the kitchen. he’s used to being in control, but the way you responded to his presence, to the compliment he gave you, had moved something deep inside him.

maybe it was seeing you tonight, all grown up and standing there in that dress, hugging your figure deliciously. how you carried yourself, confident yet unsure, mature yet untouched.

hearing you talk about your inexperience, about that brief, awkward encounter with a boy who clearly didn’t know what he was doing. watching you squirm under your friends’ teasing questions, witnessing how you tried to explain yourself.

it’s like it all clicks into place for him. and for the first time, he’s letting himself acknowledge it.

jeongguk wants you.

he knows it’s wrong. so wrong. he’s never felt this way about someone so much younger than him, and yet, the need to be the first one to truly touch you, to show you what it means to be wanted by a real man, makes his blood run hot.

it’s dangerous, the way these thoughts take hold of him now. maybe it’s the way you’ve changed lately, stepping into womanhood but still holding onto that wide-eyed innocence. or maybe it’s him. maybe he’s the one who’s changed, his resistance crumbling little by little.

he feels disgusting. selfish, his stomach swirling with nerves. dirty, his fingers twitching and begging to free his insides from such feelings.

but there’s simply no ignoring it anymore, no pretending like you’re just areum’s friend. that boundary he set in his mind is starting to blur. he’s old enough to know better, but old enough to know exactly what he wants.

your eyes widen with terror, meeting jeongguk’s own hardened gaze. he wants to tell you, wants you to know, but the way your startled expression lingers in his narrowed eyes makes him hesitate. it fills him with uncertainty, an unfamiliar feeling, one he rarely contends with.

the moment is abruptly interrupted when one of areum’s friends, an older guy she’s met through her dad’s colleague, crashes into you from behind, draping his weight over your shoulders.

you struggle not to stumble forward, holding yourself on the arms of your chair while you look to the side, and immediately try to pull away when you realize the unwanted proximity.

but it’s hard, you’re weaker than the boy’s embrace, holding you still and wiggling his eyebrows, his tone playful as he ruffles your hair, “is it me?”

the people around you laugh, the sound light and carefree, but the way your body stiffens, the clear discomfort in your eyes— jeongguk notices.

and he also notices (reluctantly) the ugly feeling making space in his stomach the more that guy’s face moves closer to yours. his jaw twitches, the muscle at his temple ticking.

he can’t just stand there doing nothing anymore.

the sudden sound of the door to the garden opening catches everyone’s attention, and your gaze flies over in that direction.

jeongguk steps out, his presence commanding, and your expression drops. areum’s eyes grow wide, instantly sensing something wrong in the way her father is looking at the scene. his eyes are too dark, too sharp, and if no one else detects it, you and his daughter surely do.

still, the taller boy behind you moves up again, taking a step back from your seat, and jeongguk seems to reserve him a look you find hard to decipher. it’s firm, heavy with a warning.

“areum,” he calls, his voice calm but edged, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

she’s quick to move toward him, and you can’t help but try to listen in on what he’s saying to her.

but the voices of your friends rise again, loud and boisterous, filling the space with chatter, drowning out any chance you had of overhearing.

you sigh, and when you return to your slumped position on your chair, you can’t ignore how all the girls around you are sneaking glances at him, their giggles piercing through the air as they whisper among themselves.

jeongguk has always had a certain effect on people, and tonight is no different. you hear some of their comments, but they don’t fully register in your mind.

all you can focus on is the bitter feeling rising in your chest.

you bite the inside of your cheek, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. it sickens you, the way you have to share the image of him with everyone else.

you wish only your eyes had been granted the gift of looking at him, of admiring the way his shirt stretches across his chest or how his hair falls perfectly, even when tousled.

but instead, he’s a spectacle for everyone to enjoy, and you hate it.

when areum returns, she’s slightly slumped over, her energy deflated. behind her, mr. jeon stands with his arms crossed, a small, condescending smile tugging at his lips.

areum’s voice is low as she announces, “the party’s over, guys.”

the subtle groans of disappointment echo around you as your friends try to protest, giving up when met with no possible negotiation. they then gather their things, saying their goodbyes and slowly trickling out, only after trying to argue about it.

once the last guest has left, it’s just the three of you, left to clean up the remnants of the night in the dimly lit garden.

jeongguk barely looks at you. his focus is elsewhere. on the mess, on areum, on anything but you.

as you bend down to gather some empty cups, you steal a look at him again. he’s helping clean up too, though his motions are deliberate and slow.

it’s silent for a while as each one of you picks up their own task. teamwork seems to be efficient, every area of the backyard slowly regaining its original aspect.

until areum yawns dramatically, stretching her arms above her head as she makes her way over to you and her father. she mumbles, blinking heavily. "’m so sleepy."

jeongguk raises an eyebrow, glancing at the still-messy garden, some leftover cups and plates scattered across the tables, and the chairs strewn about from the night's festivities.

he teases lightly, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "oh, really? you’re just gonna leave all this mess behind?"

for a moment, the weight of his words hangs in the air. you and areum both freeze, glancing at each other with wide eyes, unsure if he’s serious. the pause is brief, but it’s enough for tension to rise in your chest.

but then, jeongguk’s lips curl into a soft, knowing smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“just kidding,” he chuckles, his tone warm now, the joke clear. “go sleep, c’mon. it’s past your bedtime.”

areum sighs with exaggerated relief, rolling her eyes before stepping forward to wrap her arms around her dad in a loose hug. she mumbles into his chest, “i’m not a kid anymore, dad. i don’t have a bedtime.”

he chuckles with a lightness that was foreign to you until that moment, and he leans down, pressing his lips gently to the top of her head, his voice low and tender as he whispers, “whatever you say. happy birthday, reumie.”

it’s such a simple moment, nothing grand or elaborate, but the intimacy of it, the quiet affection between father and daughter, makes your heart clench.

you watch them with stars in your eyes, completely captivated by this rare portrayal of vulnerability from mr. jeon. he’s always been the composed, collected man in the background of areum’s life, but here, he’s just a father, brimming with love for his daughter.

you almost feel like an intruder witnessing such a private exchange, but you can’t pull your eyes away. every detail — his hand softly resting on her back, the delicate warmth in his eyes, the way his voice softened — it all paints a picture of a side of him you’ve rarely seen.

you want to be part of it, too. want to bask in his love, the one he keeps hidden but the same one that shapes him whole. that fills him from head to toe, never spilling, always quiet. makes him the brave man you only know through your best friend’s admiring eyes, never from his words.

he doesn’t like talking about himself, but you’d kill to know what truly goes through his mind, even for just a second. you’d gladly find a house in his brain, and you’d pay rent and everything.

when areum finally pulls away and turns to you, her expression sleepy but content, she asks, “you coming with me?”

you hesitate, glancing at the mess still surrounding you. you speak with a small, reassuring smile, only looking at your friend, “i’ll be there in a minute. i wanna help clean up first.”

she just shrugs, already too tired to argue, and heads inside. jeongguk’s eyes follow her briefly before flicking back to you.

his lips part as if he wants to say something. maybe to insist that you shouldn’t stay, or that you should go inside too. but the words never come. instead, he watches you silently for a second longer, before turning his attention back to the garden.

now, it’s just the two of you.

the quiet between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. the subtle hum of the night seems louder now without the chatter of party guests, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze fills the air as you move around the small round tables, readjusting the chairs.

you’re trying to focus on the task at hand, but your mind keeps drifting back to mr. jeon. to the protective edge in his tone earlier, to the way he’s been looking at you tonight.

but then, in your distraction, you clumsily trip over your own feet, your breath catching as you stumble forward.

before you can fall, though, a strong hand grips your arm, steadying you instantly.

“oops. careful, little one,” it’s jeongguk’s deep voice murmuring close to your ear, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

your face flushes immediately, the heat spreading across your cheeks and down your neck.

“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him through your lashes, feeling ridiculously small under his intense gaze.

“it’s okay,” he instantly replies, his tone so gentle it almost makes your heart falter.

silence falls again, but this time, it’s thicker, and maybe even uncomfortable. you both remain still for a moment, his hand loosely gripping your arm, and you feel yourself burn where his fingers rest. his thumb brushes your skin lightly, a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture, but it’s enough to make you gulp audibly.

finally, he releases you, stepping back slightly, but his eyes never leave yours, "thanks for making my daughter happy today. i really appreciate that. i appreciate you."

the words catch you off guard, your breath hitching at the sincerity in his voice, deeper, almost too revealing.

your mind races, trying to find the right words to respond, but all you can manage is a stutter, “oh. i—”

his voice is firmer when he gently cuts you off, “go sleep now. i’ll finish here.”

you want to protest, but the way he’s looking at you — his dark eyes locking onto yours, holding you in place even with his hand now by his side — makes it impossible.

there’s something about the way he’s speaking, like he’s being careful with his words, almost spelling them out, making sure you’re paying attention to each one, “if you need anything, you know where to find me. yeah?”

you swallow hard, nodding slowly. his gaze is unwavering, and it feels like he’s saying something more than just the words themselves, something you can’t quite grasp yet. you stammer, “right. yes. i—i’ll… goodnight.”

“goodnight.”

it’s not exactly a good night for you. in a sense, maybe it is. you always welcome dreams like these when they decide to visit. but right now, it feels more than a little awkward.

worst timing ever. you’re lying next to areum, the daughter of the very man who’s making you wet with just a few flashes of imagery dancing behind your closed eyelids.

at first, it’s soft, almost serene. you see a beach, engulfed in warm, blurry tones that blend together like watercolors left to bleed in the sun. the sea is flat, unmoving, and glimmers like pearls under the flaming light.

a weight presses down on your exposed thigh. the sensation feels so vivid that it pulls you deeper into the dream, and as you glance down, you instantly recognize the large, familiar hand resting there.

jeongguk’s hand. his left one. on the fourth finger, a gold ring.

when you lift your head, his face greets you with a wide, unusual smile. his hair is wet, slicked back as if he’s just come out of the water, droplets clinging to the tips.

but the softness of the look he gives you is replaced by something more dangerous, more daring. he bites his lip, and you see it.

a double piercing sits on the side of his mouth, the silver studs gleaming as he plays with them using the tip of his tongue. your breath catches in your throat. you don’t just see it there.

on his eyebrow, a matching piercing catches the sunlight, giving him a rebellious edge.

you remember them from old pictures areum showed you once. jeongguk, in his younger days, rougher, wilder, and undeniably charming.

it must have left a deep impression on you because your subconscious has dug it up now, weaving it into this dream. deep in your slumber, you unconsciously whine.

his hand kneads the soft skin of your leg, and his grin stretches wider, eyes crinkling into familiar crescents, but with an edge you’ve never seen on him before.

"you wanna take another bath?" his voice is husky in your ear, filled with suggestion. he’s leaning in now, closer, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin.

your throat feels dry, your pulse quickens, and before you can say anything, his hand slides higher, fingers grazing the hem of your swimsuit. his breath fans over your face, and suddenly, the sea behind you isn’t the only thing that feels like it's burning.

"come on. just you and me."

before you can even think to answer, your surroundings shift. the beach, once hazy and peaceful, morphs into something more private.

you’re no longer in the open air, but sitting at the border of his pool, both your feet grazing the warm water.

jeongguk’s hand is still playing with the laces of your bikini, and he’s slow and teasing as he pulls one of them. when he fully undoes it, you’re bare in front of him.

but he doesn’t look down just yet. he keeps staring in your eyes, his smile gone now, replaced with something more serious, more focused.

jeongguk leans closer to your ear, his lips brushing your lobe, and it feels way too real when he whispers, “let me make you feel good.”

it’s with a jolt that you wake up, the low sound still echoing in the depths of your brain, and you struggle to take in your surroundings at first.

on your right, areum is sleeping soundly, even snoring softly. you'll tease her about it in the morning.

but if the thought initially puts a smile on your face, it morphs into a frown when you register the reason why you’re now awake, and you brim with guilt.

you have to get away from your best friend. need to get away from your brain, if possible. wash it all with a glass of cold water.

you make sure not to cause too much noise as you slowly sit up, the covers falling from your figure and the air welcoming you with goosebumps on your skin.

your naked feet tentatively touch the ground and you force yourself to stand on them, padding on the floor and exiting the room, gently closing the door behind your shoulders.

at first, you only hear it. faint, muffled noises; fussing; heavy panting; groans.

you blink rapidly, convinced your hazy brain is still cozily wrapped around the blankets, finding it hard to let go of the images that had flashed behind your eyelids and adapt to the new state of consciousness.

but as you make your way to the stairs, the sounds get closer, and more vivid. it’s not just your mind playing evil games, anymore.

it’s shushed moans, and eager whines. and they seem awfully close to how you’d always imagined mr. jeon would sound like. in that situation.

having lost control over your own brain a long time ago, it feels like you’re now being ordered around by it, no freedom of choice whatsoever.

your feet move on their own, following the source of that delicious music, and you swear your eyes get teary with joy when you find that the door was left ajar.

you feel delirious. the small gap is more than enough to give you a view into what you never thought you’d have the honor of witnessing: the man of all your desires has his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing it, then dragging it up and down in slow movements that you just know are torturing him, from the way he harshly bites his lower lip, to the way his furrowed eyebrows almost meet at the bridge of his nose, eyes focused on his doings.

nonetheless, he loves it. his mouth opens every time he brushes the tip of his thick dick with his palm, releasing small whines, followed by quiet moans when he uses his other hand to play with his balls.

he cusses repeatedly, then grips his base and halts his movements. only to go over the punishing pattern again, bringing himself closer to the edge then retraining when he feels like stepping over it.

the sight of mr. jeon edging himself makes your knees weak. it takes over you physically, you genuinely have to find support in the wall beside you.

you need to be there with him. you need it to be your hand; need him to guide it just the way he likes it; need him to teach you how to please him. his groans make your head spin, and you need to get closer.

you’re not thinking when you instinctively take a step towards the slightly open door, but when you do, the floor cracks under you.

you’re paralysed. in the silence of the house, wrapped in night time, the otherwise small sound is amplified, and he stops his hand.

with the little power you still possess over your actions, you move your back to the wall beside the door. your breaths are ragged, too overwhelmed with the mixture of fear and lust, and you think of running away to hide but a huge weight is chaining you down, and you find yourself unable to move.

you can only register fussing from the other side, the soft thump of his feet on the floor and the door opening alarmingly. when he looks to the side, he’s met with his expression mirrored on your small face, your eyes wide but willing themselves to keep looking in his.

if you were to look down, you’re not sure you could keep yourself composed, knowing his cock is hard and unattended in his pajama pants.

“___? what are you doing up?” his voice quickly takes on the calm that characterizes him so well, instilling some of it in your startled figure.

still, you stutter all throughout your answer, making it clear what you just spied into with the way your face changes color, “i— water. i wanted— there’s no, huh, water in the fridge.”

mr. jeon does a weak job at hiding the confused amusement on his features. nonetheless, he nods, a small grin on his lips while he says nothing, just walks to the stairs and makes his way down them. you follow hastily, careful not to trip.

there’s plenty of water in the fridge, but he doesn’t question it. he takes out a bottle and pours a glass for you, sliding it over the counter.

you take the smallest sip, afraid you might choke with the way he stands facing you, staring so intensely into your orbs.

when you put the still full glass down, he smirks. you see his hands gripping the edge of the table in front of him, “nightmare?”

the depth of his voice translates into heat pooling right in your lower stomach and staining your shorts. you’re a mess just from the blurred sight of him. you shake your head, “more like… a weird dream.”

he smiles fondly, having to break the prolonged eye contact and look elsewhere, his grip getting tighter and his patience wearing thin.

he won’t be able to control himself much longer if he doesn’t get out of this kitchen, especially with the effects of your effortless charm flooding down his pleading dick.

you’re in front of him, eyes full with a feeling that scares him, only the counter dividing your bodies, and you’re wearing the tiniest satin shorts paired with a white tank top that leaves little to the imagination, the cut dangerously low and your nipples evident through the material.

he’s a gone man.

his eyes no longer anchoring you, your gaze automatically travels to where you shouldn’t be looking, for your own sanity. but the outline of his cock is so delicious, it makes your mouth water with want.

you’re not sure if it’s your own eyes deceiving you, but you swear you can see it throb, and at that moment you realize he’s not wearing any underwear. just thin, loose pants covering his length.

you gulp, clenching around nothing. you feel him sigh, and the sound makes your head spin with greater force.

he looks back at you, but you’re too enthralled by your current view, the effects of it almost completely shutting out your hearing and your rational thinking, as you round the counter and leave his words hung in the air, “i’m sorry for… what you probably saw. should’ve closed the door.”

apology silently dismissed, or simply ignored (why would he even apologize for blessing you with such an unforgettable sight?) you now stand next to him. as he turns to you, you’re faced with his chest, and you have to bend your head upwards to meet his curious eyes.

your body has long forgotten to trust the thin amount of rationality that could still be found in your brain, and that’s how you find yourself leading your hand to cup his cock through his pajamas.

his face is stoic, staring at you intensely. he doesn’t startle, doesn’t gasp, doesn’t move away. but you feel him. if the contact does something to him, he doesn’t show it. he keeps looking down at you, in your eyes.

then, he speaks, his voice steady, “what are you doing.”

you’re suddenly aware of your actions, and you fall victim to them, feeling small because of his stern, composed gaze while you melt under it.

your voice is frail, barely a whisper, too weak to sound as convinced as you truly are, and your words come out slurred, “wanna help you.”

he doesn’t break, doesn’t seem affected by your desperation, but his pupils are blown out, knuckles white from grasping the counter, “you already did enough.”

your hand is still on his dick, unmoving. no one dares break the moment, though. if anything, being this close to him, feeling him while you both search for something in each other’s eyes, is only spurring you further.

you get on your tip toes, your perky nipples brushing against his chest, your voice low while you tilt your head to the side, “what were you thinking of? i’ll be that for you.”

immediately, his hand flies over yours. he doesn’t move it, just holds it still. the look in his eyes is a lot darker, his eyelids droopy, his jaw clenched, “stop this.”

the electrifying spark that buzzes you the moment you feel his skin travels from your hand to your whole body, and it significantly weakens you.

you don’t know if you fall to your knees because they genuinely give up on you, but it’s how you find yourself facing his hardness, your eyes never leaving his glossy ones, highlighted by the dim light shining through the curtains of his kitchen.

“___. get up.” there’s a tremor in his voice, and the hand that was blocking yours now falls by his side, twitching.

you see it in his eyes. sense it in the tension of his muscles. he’s holding back. but you don’t want him to resist you.

“please,” your beg is muffled and quiet, your nose brushing against his length and following a torturous path that makes him hiss.

he groans deliriously, willing himself to tear his orbs off your big, pleading ones staring up at him, but he doesn’t do anything to move you away.

“fuck,” the chuckle that follows is feverish, his body on fire with the forbidden, but so wanted touch, “don’t make me have to reject you, doll.”

“you don’t have to,” you’re unexpectedly quick in your answers, your conscience coming back to you but letting it be taken over by a dark feeling, the one that makes you kiss his tip through the thin material, and lick along his length, finding his eyes, “i want you.”

jeongguk inhales, his lower lip bleeding with the harsh biting, and he swears his knees are shaking with the effort of keeping even the slightest, thinnest thread of sanity intact.

he wishes he could stop you. knows he should. but he can’t. he can only watch as your slim fingers hook under the hem of his light pants and lead them to pool down his ankles.

the way his cock springs free and brushes your smooth, pure face makes him huff out a deep exhale, his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed as he takes in your eyes widening at the sight of his length.

mr. jeon is long. and thick. he’s veiny, and perfectly shaved. it looks almost unrealistic, but he’s in front of you in all his glory and he throbs. leaks pretty precum to coat his angry tip.

he doesn’t know how he manages to speak, especially when you look up at him through your droopy eyelids, pupils blown and tongue ready to take him.

his voice is rough, as if it wants to stay stuck in his throat, but he forces one last warning out, “___. don’t do it.”

any and all kinds of inhibitions are nonexistent the moment you attempt a kitten lip at his wet tip, and the simple action makes his head fall backwards, a way too loud growl escaping him.

his breaths are heavy, broad chest moving with them as he looks down at you again, too tempted to look elsewhere.

he curses as soon as he does, his lust-filled orbs swimming in your equally craving ones, and he believes this view is crafted by the hands of a god, not slightly comparable to anything his mind came up with back in his room, not too long ago.

the reason why he’s gotten rock hard under his covers, it’s you. the yearning he couldn’t suppress anymore, the hunger making him salivate, the need to be consumed by your love, the desire to be touched by you, to be cured by your innocence, only to taint it.

he’s thirsty, wants to drink all of you in. wants to finally have you, taste you, feel you. he’s tired of fighting it.

jeongguk doesn’t know how to decipher his heart doing literal flips in his chest when you fully take his cock in your mouth, and he lets out a sound he’s never heard his own self ever produce.

it’s high-pitched, whiny, delirious, and it leads himself to subtly push himself forward, to bury his length in your throat.

you inevitably choke at the new sensation, your eyes fluttering shut to keep the tears welling up under your eyelids from spilling out, but you go relentlessly, just as hungry.

you tentatively bob your head up and down his length, messily taking him as best as you could, probably accidentally scraping him with your teeth a few times, and you try to make up for it with your swirling tongue, slurping thirstily.

he almost coos at your eagerness, and as badly as he wants to bask in the sensation, having to keep himself from pounding into your mouth, he holds your silky hair in a ponytail and gently pushes you away.

when you find him again, your eyes are glossy and your eyebrows drawn up with worry.

you don’t want this moment to end. you don’t want your insecurities to be proven right, don’t want him to ward you off, to still think of you as nothing more than a childish girl with an evident crush. you’re on your knees for him to finally see you.

jeongguk instantly reads your thoughts.

his voice is quick to sooth you, a sweet smile painting his face with an expression you rarely see on him. it’s soft, just like his voice, “come up here, angel.”

you want to listen to him, want to follow his every order. but you’re not sure how to when he’s regarding you with a care you’d never thought would be directed at you, one that empties you of any strength. when the pet name rolling off his tongue that easily seems so natural, you want to think it’s all he’s ever seen you as.

with a delicate tug at your hair, he leads you on your feet again. but you’re weak, your chin falling on his chest as you look at him through your lashes like he’s hung every single star in the sky.

his hand leaves your locks only to cup your face, promptly helping you stand straight to study your features.

if he didn’t know better, he’d say you’re high off the strongest substance you could find. your pupils cover your orbs in a dark, wide circle, a lazy smile on your pink lips as you let yourself be handled by him, no control over your body, almost falling over his bigger one again before he steadies you by your hips.

he lets out an amused chuckle at the state you’re in because of him, and he hopes you know just how much you’re affecting him, too. he wants to swallow you, pill after pill, overdose on you.

when he’s sure you don’t need his help keeping you still anymore, leading your palms to rest on his wide shoulders, he takes your face in his big hands and forces you to swim in the intensity of his gaze.

his words are spoken slowly, a low whisper fanning over your lips, “if i kiss you now, i won’t be able to control myself anymore.”

your eyes jump relentlessly between his own orbs and his mouth, the latter winning the battle when you fixate on it, and speak just as weakly, “please, kiss me.”

you barely manage to get the words out before jeongguk is all over you. he devours you, pushing your lips open and finding your tongue, playing with it in a mess of slick and heavy breaths.

his fingers travel through every angle of your body they can find, pulling your face impossibly closer by your nape, leaving goosebumps along your bare arms wrapping around his neck, falling down your torso and squeezing harshly as they rest by your sides.

your moan is inevitable when his palms reach down the curve of your ass and shove you against him. you feel his hardness meet the softness of your lower belly, his wet tip poking at it and making him hiss on your lips.

he does his best to swallow all your sounds, your muffled whines and whimpers his favorite meal as of now. it’s a wince of slight pain that you let out as he positions you in between his body and the counter, the border pressing on your lower back.

when he moves from your kiss, even with your lungs being unable to breathe anymore and begging for a break, your head follows his movements to try and bring him back on you again.

the chuckle he lets out is almost belittling, the right side of your face being completely engulfed by his palm to put distance between your mouths, his other hand keeping you still by your waist, and his own hips push against you.

you quickly glance down to where your bodies meet, and you whimper when you take in the way his cock is just above your core, his balls brushing against your clit. you only need to lift yourself a little forward to fully feel him.

but it’s like he instantly knows what’s making your head spin, his grip tighter but still mindful not to hurt you. the sudden squeeze has your eyes finding his, feeling ridiculously smaller under the weight of his heavy gaze.

he makes sure you keep your whole focus on him, and as much as registering the way your orbs are glossy with anticipation and desire is making him almost regret his next words, he lets them out, steady but soft, in your face.

“you had your fun, baby. now, you’re going to listen to me. hm?”

this time, your reaction comes promptly following his request. you’re hanging from his lips, tracing their every move and sound, immediately nodding at the order.

but it’s not enough, and jeongguk ensures to sound a bit firmer, ”use your words.”

”yes, mr. jeon.”

the way your response rolls off your tongue with seemingly no hesitation, your pupils still on his, the words you choose to say, make him let out an amused chuckle.

your eyes widen, and he drinks in your state, cheeks flushed and lower lip trembling. you need to bite it in order for it to stop shaking when he narrows his eyes, his left palm rising from your hip and finding its way under your top, his remark making you startle, ”you’re such a bad girl. aren’t you?”

jeongguk makes up for the way more tears seem to well along your bottom lashes by cupping your small breast in his larger hand, swirling his thumb around your nipple, and you need to fight against the loud moan traveling its way up your throat, the chocked sound getting stuck as your mouth hangs open, your eyebrows furrowed.

but it only takes some more of his degrading tone for you to let out an unashamedly loud noise, his fingertips pinching your nipple, ”calling me that only because it gets you off. doesn’t it? you’re not so innocent after all, princess.”

he quickly swallows your sounds with his lips on yours, and both of you can’t help but hum lowly at the contact. jeongguk thinks he could keep kissing you for hours on end. but he badly wants to feel every other inch of your body, too.

unexpectedly, the kiss gets broken when he turns your body around with ease, your back now pressing against his front, and you steady your shaking figure by planting your hands on the counter.

the access to your ear comes effortlessly, he just needs to bend his head down to cover your height difference and make sure his whispered words meet you as close as possible, “i’ll give you what you want. but you need to be quiet and good for me, understood?”

you’re not sure if you should use your voice or stay silent, but your body doesn’t give you the chance to ponder over it before letting out a whiny yes. you’re not exactly being quiet, but can he blame you?

the man you’d get to talk to for more than five minutes only in your dreams is now promising you he’s going to give you what you want. and his cock is perfectly nestled in between your ass cheeks. you’re positive you’ll have to throw your shorts right in the bin after he’s done with you.

though, the scoff resounding in your ear makes you regret not even trying to lower your volume. you really want to be good for him. don’t want to disappoint him.

that’s why when he taps two fingers under your chin, without him having to express it for you, you part your lips open, tongue out. from the corner of your eye, you see the side of his face scrunched with a long dimple before he shoves the digits inside your wet mouth.

you instantly wrap yourself around his thick fingers, coating them in your warm slick, and you can tell it’s affecting him with the way the hold on your hip tightens, and he shifts between your thighs.

with your tongue swirling around the two digits, your eyes search for his face. looking up at him through your lashes, you clench around nothing when you take in the effortless way he towers over you, his body engulfing your whole smaller figure.

the sinful eye contact leads him to spur you on further, his voice rough with desire, “that’s right. suck on them like you would my cock.”

you hum deeply at the encouragement, fluttering your eyelids shut as you energetically bob up and down along his fingers. you think you can still feel the taste of his precum lingering on your tongue, and you whine, wishing you could have him again.

the noise gets cut from your throat when he forces his digits out, the slicky sound lustful, and it makes him groan lowly.

with his other hand, he delicately pushes your head forward to bend you over the marble counter, the same one where hours ago he passed you his glass of wine to take a sip from.

the surface is cold against your cheek and he’s out of your vision as he stands straight. not being able to see what he’s doing, the expression on his face as you lay folded for him, makes the anticipation flood even stronger in your veins.

you feel him pull your shorts down enough to reveal yourself to him, hear him hiss as he’s enthralled by the way your pussy glistens, all for his eyes to admire.

the curse that follows is instant, “fuck. no panties?”

you’re embarrassed for your straightforward bareness, whimpering at his surprise with your fist tightening and your nails imprinting crescents in your palms, but you’re also so impatient to feel his touch.

tentatively, you wiggle for him, hoping to brush against his length, but it’s to no effort as he instantly stills your movements with a hand on your lower back.

he scoffs incredulously, feeling your bare ass against his palm, “it’s like you knew this would happen. you dirty, naughty girl. always giving me those eyes.”

it’s light, the spank that meets the side of your butt, but you gasp nonetheless. you need to bite your lower lip harshly in order to suppress the loud moan from escaping your throat, and you’re sure it bleeds when he softly strokes the spot he hit.

the hand soothing you now travels to your front, torturously putting pressure on your sensitive stomach and following a slow pattern, only to reach your wet core.

he finally touches you where you’ve been needing him the most, and you both groan when he uses his already soaked pointer and ring finger to spread your lips, his middle one tracing your slit.

you inhale deeply as he repeats the motion, and when you exhale you can’t help small whines from leaving you, the pleasure already too overwhelming.

you feel like passing out when his body weight presses on you again, his mouth directly on your lobe, the intention in his voice dripping on your skin, “you think i wouldn’t notice? you know how hard my cock gets everytime i see you in these tiny clothes of yours, huh? you’re quite literally the death of me, doll.”

then, it’s like all your senses come back to you the moment he pushes his digit in, and he immediately reaches around you to put his other hand over your mouth the second he sees it opening, your eyes rolling up.

you scream in his palm, the sound muffled with his fingers tightening under your jaw, his body still leaning on yours.

he whispers sweet nothings in your ear and stills his middle finger inside you, getting you used to his presence, “shh, princess. good baby, you’re doing perfect.”

the contrast to his earlier shaming tone only makes you whine more, your eyes squeezing closed to try and keep the noises in. you’re sure you bite his palm when he starts moving inside you, the finger curling tentatively and soon being joined by another one.

you shake your head weakly, feeling yourself reach delirium, and you manage to stammer out, “can’t— can’t do this.”

“you can baby, c’mon. you wanna be a good girl f’me, don’t you?” his tone is still low, warm breath fanning over your nape, and you melt under the sudden change in attitude.

you nod, not because you believe you can actually get through this without your heart failing and the whole neighborhood hearing you in the process, but because you do want to be his good girl.

“say it.”

“wanna be good— your good girl.”

he hums, “that’s right. i need to stretch you out if you want to take my cock.”

you choke in his wrap, now looser around your face, surprised at his words, and you clench hard at the mention of his cock inside you.

you throw your head backwards in search for more of his proximity, and you mumble nonsense, your brain completely melted, “yes! want your dick.”

“i know you do, little one,” with your head nestled between the crook of his neck, his hand now falls to your throat, and he holds you gently by it while his fingers pick up a faster pace.

he’s ruthless as he moves them inside you, effortlessly finding your sweet spot with a curl of his long, tattooed digits, and you whimper at the foreign sensation, unable to moan like you really want to.

you feel like screaming the more he keeps going, the only possible reaction to what is happening to you. one moment ago you were dreaming of this, and now it’s your reality.

mr. jeon is fingering you and calling you his good girl. his large figure is behind your smaller one bent over the counter, his palm around your throat, his hard length pressing against your ass.

the moment he uses his thumb to flick at your clit, you arch your back into him and you hear him fight to suppress a surprised moan.

“shit. you’re so impatient, sugar. dripping around my fingers. wanna taste your sweet juice, can i?” it’s a rhetorical question, hushed slurredly in your ear, because after he lets it out his fingers leave your hole, and find a new home on his warm tongue.

he purposefully moves your chin to make you a witness of his sinful action, humming deeply around the taste of you, his eyes fluttering shut, his digits popping out drenched.

your mouth hangs, your tongue unconsciously peeking out as if asking to be made a participant, but jeongguk only smirks and stands straight once again, his wet hand leaving another light spank on your ass cheek, “turn around, sweets.”

you do as asked, making sure your palms are still steadying your weight on the counter now behind you, afraid your legs alone won’t be able to.

but you soon find out you won’t have to put much effort into that when jeongguk lifts you with ease and sits you on the surface, your slickness meeting the cold marble.

you don’t have to lift your head to look at him anymore, your heights now the same. but finding yourself directly in front of his hardened gaze makes you feel even more intimidated.

especially when he traces your inner thigh, his eyes never leaving yours, “every time you stand up to leave after dinner, you always leave a puddle on my chairs. and i’m left to clean it up.”

you swallow audibly at the accusation, and you can feel your eyes water once again, biting your lips to conceal the shame.

he only grins amusedly at your state, the tip of his tongue coming out to play with his lower lip. the hand on your leg now forces it to move to the side, his face only getting closer to yours, his tone deeper, “i’ve thought about licking it up, you know? but then i always stopped myself, because i knew i’d get to taste your pretty, wet pussy.”

you gasp, a shaky moan leaving you uncontrollably, and your fingers hover over his figure, wanting to find support in him but unsure whether to touch him.

he finds your mouth with a short kiss, almost reassuring, but he’s back to spitting sins the moment he lowers his face between your spread legs, and the way he looks up at you is almost scandalous.

he looks devilish, his orbs visible through his lashes, his tongue wetting his lips. he takes your uncertain hand and places it between his tousled hair, directing himself to you, instructing you how to use him.

he presses a peck above your clit, still drinking in your reactions, his smile wicked, “i knew you’d crumble soon. you little minx. going after your best friend’s dad. so naughty.”

your head is thrown backwards at his words, ones that only add to the pleasure that takes over you when he latches at your pussy, the wet sounds ungodly.

the shame and guilt mixing in the back of your mind generate a profane sense of bliss you’d never think you could reach, and even though deep down you feel dirty being confronted with the truth he sputtered out so easily, you can’t help getting off to it right now.

jeongguk is ravenous as he finds your drenched lips, lapping furiously at them and drinking the juice that continuously drips out.

he flicks the tip of his tongue up and down your swollen clit, and your hand that he himself put on top of his head now tugs at his curls, forcing him closer to you.

he’s trapped, your legs squeezing around his head, his nose nuzzled in your slit, and he can’t stop the hand that reaches to stroke his pleading dick.

you think you hear him mumble something along the lines of taste so good as he teases your hole with his wet muscle, and you’re a gone woman the moment you look down, your eyes fluttering open.

his own are closed, brows furrowed in deep concentration, his nose relentlessly grinding against your sensitive nub, and the way he seems so affected by the act of pleasuring you breaks something inside you.

you feel it begin to crumble when his tattooed hand reaches up to lift up your top just enough to expose your breasts, nipples hardening with the cold air and the stimulation, and they hurt deliciously when he starts kneading at your boobs, fondling them with care.

the deep hum generated from his throat vibrates against you, and the flick of his thumb around the center of your tit matched with the way your clit is being continuously abused unexpectedly leads you to your orgasm.

it’s fast, unannounced, and you find support in his hair, your body taking over your brain and relentlessly grinding against jeongguk’s face, suffocated between you, unable to stop reaching for the heavenly, and so awaited high.

your whines are frantically high pitched, but the moment he feels you cum all over his mouth everything around him disappears except you, and all he cares about is slurping you, drinking you as you let it all out because of him.

he pants, breathless, opening his eyes to witness your climax, to admire you breaking under his doings, chest swelling with pride and a primal sense of protectiveness.

when he hears you whimper the more he keeps sucking on your clit, your slim fingers pulling at his locks, he finally lifts himself up.

on the path he follows to come back up to meet your face, he finds your nipple with a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing your nub, and he smiles against it, teeth gently pinching it, when seeking with his eyes for your reaction he sees your own rolling back.

next, his mouth is on yours, smearing your wetness all over your lips and mixing it with his spit on your tongue, connecting in a frantic, hungry dance.

his forehead is on yours when he breaks the kiss, his breaths heavy, the lazy grin on his face the only thing you can focus on, hanging on his gentle words, “did so good, pretty. came so hard all over me.”

your eyes inevitably fall down to his cock, painfully hard against his stomach, the tip angry and slicked with precum.

you feel your core buzz, kissing him to conceal the unshameful desire building up so fast again, but still you can’t help from mumbling against him, “wan’ you to fuck me.”

the hum of pleasure coming from his throat reverberates on your lips, and he smiles at your confession. even chuckles, one hand resting at your hip and sliding you closer.

“that what you want, baby?” your legs wrapping around him, he kisses along your neck and travels down to your collarbones, leaving small bites to keep himself from marking you like he truly wants to.

he slips his palms under your thighs and lifts you off the counter effortlessly, and you squeeze your hold tighter around him in order to keep yourself balanced.

the new position has his cock perfectly meeting your core, your slit brushing against his tip as he walks you two over the living room couch, his mouth promptly swallowing your whimpers.

when he lays you on the sofa, he straightens himself to fully admire you. you’re sprawled for him, your hair framing your head like a halo, the sweat pearling your forehead adding to your angelic state.

your hands are on either side of your face, fingers dainty and slender, and your tank top is lifted up enough to show him your small breasts, slightly spilling from the sides.

your shorts still rest under your ass, and with a swift motion he fully takes them off you, giving him access to your center.

but the attention is taken away from your wet cunt when he lets his eyes come back up to your face, your cheek resting on your shoulder, trying to hide your embarrassment at his ravenous observing.

he smiles, becoming impatient with the feeling that only grows inside him, and he walks out of his pants still pooled down his ankles, taking off his loose t-shirt and letting it fall on the ground.

your eyes widen at his sculpted physique, now finally in front of you, his buff dimensions intimidating you, especially when your orbs follow his v line and put you face to face with his huge cock, so close to your watering hole.

he teases it with his length, sliding it up and down your slit, then slapping it against your clit. you arch your back, groaning.

“am i the real man you’ve been waiting for? you wanna be fucked by this big man, don’t you?” his sinful words only make you nod dumbly, becoming potty under his control.

at your eagerness, he wastes no time. aligning himself with your hole, he enters you. the stretch is deliciously painful, his tip boldly splitting you open for him.

he knows your wail is coming, so he lowers himself on you to block your sounds with his mouth. but he’s the one that needs to be silenced.

the moment he feels your tightness around his bare dick, he growls. his sounds grow more desperate as he sinks himself deeper, the grip on your waist enough to wreck you, and you’re expecting it to leave a mark.

you hum roughly against his lips, your nails scratching along his shoulder blades in search for any kind of grounding you can find.

it’s too much, his dimensions way oversized for what your hole can take, and the fact that you can’t help but grip him even tighter isn’t helping.

he reads you, your broken whines and the tear falling from your left eye, and the moment he bottoms out he stills himself, his face in the crook of your neck, his nose nuzzling the warm skin in a reassuring manner, “shh, baby. i got you. let me make you feel good.”

the whispered words are the same ones that jolted you from your sleep, the dream almost too real, and paired with his middle and ring finger circling your sensitive nub they cause you to emit a pleasured squeal, your chest arching into his.

at this point, you’re afraid you’re still trapped deep in your slumber. that none of this is actually real, it can’t be.

you’re so convinced that it’s just too good to be true that you test it, scraping your nails harshly in his back, and when he bites the skin under your jaw in protest you gasp shakily.

it’s definitely real. jeongguk is fucking you. almost. not yet.

with the way your clit is being stimulated by his long fingers, the initial sharpness turns into more slick, and you impatiently groan, “fuck me, please.”

one final kiss is left on your lips before he lifts his torso up, his hands roaming along your sides and grasping a hold of your tits.

he teases you with a playful smirk on his face, your disappointed pout only resulting in a devilish chuckle from him as he massages your soft boobs.

but you can feel him throb inside you the more you swallow him in, and you know he’s just as impatient. you buck your hips up in search of friction, and the sudden motion makes the both of you moan.

he’s suddenly resolute as his palms fall to your waist and effortlessly hold you up as he begins fucking into you. with each stroke he picks up his pace, and he’s soon pounding your tight hole wrapping around him.

the two of you soon find out it’s impossible to be quiet. your sounds are stuttered and pornographic, and it makes jeongguk afraid he’s never going to be able to get them off his brain.

his own noises are heavenly, deep growls and surprised whines falling out his pillowed lips, slightly agape in bliss, brows drawn up.

your eyes roll back and never come back, your vision patched, and you think you weren’t build to survive this kind of pleasure. it’s almost deathly when he finds that one particular spot that makes you see stars.

your skin slapping is louder than his hushed speech, but he makes sure the words reach you and translate into wetness coating his length even more, drenching it, making it soaked in your juices, “that’s how you need to be fucked. that’s how my girl needs to be fucked, hm?”

“mhm, fuck, yes!” it’s breathless, but you want him to hear you. you feel yourself get closer just watching him smirk proudly at your state, his pupils blown out.

his palms are back to playing with your breast, kneading it harshly, and you enjoy the way he seems to be hypnotized by the vision, “fuck. love your tits. fit just right in my hand. you were made for me, princess.”

your head is thrown back between the cushions, your legs wrapping around his ass and pushing him even deeper, the anticipated sensation building simultaneously in both of your trembling bodies.

“i’m not gonna last long, baby. this pussy’s too tight. trappin’ me inside it,” jeongguk’s voice is rough, the words leaving him slurredly and all his effort put into snapping his hips against yours, his eyes focused on the relentless in and out motion.

you wail, mumbling nonsense, but at the same time the most sincere words you’ve ever sputtered to him, “it’s yours, jeongguk. f—fucking yours. forever. ah— fuck.”

he hums, feeling you contract around him the more he speaks to you, “that’s it. my pussy to fuck, angel. mine to play with, mine to fill up.”

your eyes widen at his territorial remarks, and when they meet his hazy ones they water with overwhelming ecstasy.

the possibility of his cum filling you up is what does it for you, your nerves undoing once again and making you spasm around his throbbing dick.

he talks you through your abrupt orgasm, praising you for cumming so good all over him, drinking in your blissful sounds and your hips rutting against his.

he’s just as close, and the realization that you came the moment he mentioned painting you in his seed makes him a crazed man, his motions stuttering sloppily, “fuck. aren’t you a naughty one, doll. you really want me to cum inside you? you want it, huh? i bet you do.”

your repeated nodding and the way your body is so pliant in his hold, letting it be completely handled by him with no functioning muscle, pervades his senses with a primal force that he puts all into fucking your sensitive cunt.

he smirks wickedly, “you’d look so pretty. all stuffed. want me to fill up this tight pussy? want my mature cock in so deep you can’t breathe?”

you think you scream at his continuous suggestions, but you can’t be sure when all your senses are clouded, the oversensitivity turning you into a literal doll for him, no power over your actions.

he looks just as fucked out, his lips parting as he basks in the feeling of being in control of you, his eyes fighting to stay open and keep you in his vision.

when he feels you contracting around him in overstimulation, his breath stutters and he feels himself reach the peak, quickly pulling out of you to spill his cum over your naked skin.

you gasp at the sudden emptiness and the warm liquid that keeps falling over your stomach, his cock being pumped in his fist and milked from all he can give you.

you both pant in exhaustion, your legs loosening their grip around him as he dips his weak knees on either side of you on the couch.

he hums when he fully takes in your figure, marked by his cum, and he smiles when he sees your eyelids struggling not to fall.

but you spasm once again when you feel his finger slide over your stomach, the wet liquid being collected, “now, you gonna clean this up for me. open your pretty mouth, baby.”

you don’t even ponder on the request, you just follow the order. your brain is reduced to thoughts that are only related to him, and it automatically complies to anything that he asks from you.

you engulf his digits promptly, swallowing his semen, looking up at him through your lashes and unashamedly clenching at his lazy smirk.

he makes sure every drop of his is collected and sucked by your hungry mouth, smiling when you don’t ever complain, “mh, good girl. get them neat.”

when he’s satisfied, he hovers over your face and finds your tongue in a sensual, slow kiss, both of you moaning at the exchange.

with a sloppy sound, he parts from you only to disappear between your thighs, his eyes mischievous, “gonna clean you up, too.”

you gasp at the feeling of his mouth wrapping around your core once again, slurping your juice and lapping at your inner thighs, and you’re not sure how this is going to help in getting you clean. you only feel yourself becoming even wetter, if possible.

leaving a kiss above your nub, he straightens up with a boyish smile softening his features, and with the fond way he’s looking at you, nobody could tell he just made you cum twice.

he moves your bangs from your forehead, closing the distance between you once again to leave small pecks over your still reddened face, “you did amazing, doll. made me cum so hard.”

you hum contentedly, snuggling closer to him, your body unconsciously gravitating toward his warmth. your hand lifts to thread through his hair, but before you can touch him, he shifts, pulling away.

the warmth he provided vanishes, replaced by the cold emptiness of the couch. panic surges in your chest, washing away any remnants of fatigue. you prop yourself up on your forearms, eyes tracking his movements.

you don’t want him to leave you here alone, bare and vulnerable, maybe a bit confused and uncertain, and deep down deathly scared of whatever will come after this.

your brows furrow, heart picking up a painful speed when you see he’s getting dressed—tossing on his shirt, pulling on his pants. and for a second, your heart clenches with dread. is he leaving?

but then you notice him picking up your shorts from the floor, his expression softening as he walks back to you with that same gentle smile that had made your heart flutter earlier.

relief washes over you.

he handles you delicately, as though you’re something fragile. his fingers brush your skin as he slips your shorts back on, pulling down your top before encircling your waist with his strong arms.

you squeal lightly when he pulls you onto his lap, settling back on the couch with you cradled against his chest. his hands never leave you, securing you to him.

you settle into him easily, sighing in appreciation as the warmth of his body returns, your legs draped across his lap, arms circling his neck.

for a brief, fleeting moment, everything feels like it’s in its right place, like this is where you’ve always belonged. it feels so natural, so easy, being wrapped up in him.

his deep, slow breaths lull you into a state of calm. his chin rests on the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing strokes along your spine.

you press even closer, breathing him in, feeling like you could get used to this, like you already have. like you’ve always known this is where you should be.

your fingers trace absentminded patterns along his tattooed arm, the one holding you secure under your legs. you feel the need to look at him, to admire the man that marked you as his.

but when you glance up, you’re a bit startled when you notice the shift in his expression. his face is hardened, jaw clenched tight. he’s not relaxed like he was just moments ago. his gaze is distant, staring intently at a spot across the room as if lost in thought.

yet his hands continue to cradle you, almost unconsciously, like holding you has become second nature to him.

but his mind is a whirlwind of emotions, and they only scatter all over the place as he feels you move closer, impossibly so.

you seek warmth, care. nuzzle your fragile body against his for protection, something more that he fears he can’t give you. love.

he once thought he’d drained himself of it, had nothing left to offer. but now, with you in his arms, the smallest spark flickers to life, burning its way up his throat until it feels like it’s going to consume him.

he wants to give in. he wants to hold you tighter, trap you against him, keep you with him. give you love.

but he can’t do that to you. can’t make you go through the same path that took everything from him. not without ruining you in the process.

he knows what comes next. love turns into suffering. it’s inevitable.

and could he survive seeing the look on areum’s face if she ever finds out? how would she react if she knew the truth about what he’s done, about how he feels? about how he truly wants to act upon his feelings?

the thought makes him feel sick, even as his heart beats steadily against yours, comforted by your presence.

but why doesn’t he feel disgusted? why isn’t there shame gnawing at him, making him pull away? there’s only bliss. the sheer joy of having you this close, of holding you like this, makes him forget everything else.

he wishes he could be immature, for once. wishes he was your age, and that nothing truly mattered. that he still could allow himself to make stupid decisions.

maybe then, you’d feel right in his arms, and reality wouldn’t catch up to him.

“jeongguk? are you okay?”

your soft, honeyed voice pulls him from his spiral, and he startles slightly, caught off guard. his eyes meet yours, wide and filled with concern, searching his face for answers.

he tries to hide the storm brewing inside him, forcing a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “huh? yeah. i’m okay.”

of course, you don’t believe him. an ugly feeling makes space in your stomach, and the weight of everything begins to press down.

you don’t want it to take over you just yet, want to be coddled by the illusion a little more, want to try and believe there’s nothing to be afraid of.

you offer a tentative smile, hoping to ease whatever tension is growing between you. “you… you seem worried.”

“i’m not, baby. i’m just thinking.”

“about?”

“stuff.” his voice is clipped, and the small wall he’s building between you becomes clearer.

the distance stings, and your heart sinks as you try to hold onto the moment that felt so perfect just a second ago. desperate to reach him, you place your hands on his face, tilting his chin down to meet your gaze.

your eyes jump all over his, but you manage a genuine, if small, smile. “you can tell me, you know. you can talk to me.”

one simple, small smile spreading across his lips makes you doubt all of your worries. it makes you want to believe that maybe, there’s truly no reason to be scared. that maybe, this can go well.

“i know,” it’s whispered on your face, his hand coming to play with the hair that frames your cheeks sweetly. “let’s get you to bed now, hm?”

before you can protest, he’s lifting you off the couch with ease, cradling you in his arms bridal style as if you weigh nothing at all. you clutch onto him.

you feel your insides fuzzy with the gesture, and you wiggle yourself closer in his embrace, looking up at him expectantly, “your bed?”

it breaks his heart having to disappoint you, tone firm as he tries to make up for it with his thumb brushing your thigh, “no, baby. you gotta go back to areum’s room.”

“but— but… i wanna sleep next to you,” you plead, your voice small and almost childlike as you pout up at him, hoping to sway him.

he looks away, focusing on the stairs as if looking at you would break his resolve. “we can’t, dove. you know we can’t.”

his words feel like a punch to the gut, and your voice hesitates. “we can’t?”

the silence that follows is louder than any answer he could have given, and it weighs heavy between you, suffocating. there’s no actual explanation to it, and the realization leaves both of you uneasy.

at areum’s door, he sets you down gently, making sure you’re steady on your feet. he’s careful with you, like he always is, his voice low, “go wash up. i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“no…”

“c’mon, sweetheart. don’t make this harder.”

you frown in protest, keeping eye contact, but he doesn’t break. his gaze is steady, resolute.

you want to argue, want to push, but the exhaustion settles over you, and you slump, defeated, but you still sway sweetly for him, your hands tied behind your back, “okay… can you kiss me?”

your voice is small, muffled behind your pout as you seek for him with anticipation, a shy smile making its way on your lips.

when he doesn’t move closer, you get on your tippy toes and lean in his direction once again, your eyes almost fluttering shut before you hear him clear his throat, and take an awkward step back.

you’re back on your heels with a thump, the same one reverberating in your chest with your heart falling, your mouth hanging open with confusion written all over your expression.

you go to say something but he’s quicker, his voice solemn, “goodnight, ___.”

jeongguk smiles, but it’s nothing like the ones that took over his whole face just minutes ago on the couch, his eyes full of you. you’re not even sure if you can define it as a smile.

it’s polite, almost too polite, and it only results in feeling tremendously distant from him. he’s completely disconnected from you.

he retreats, long legs carrying him away, his back to you as he slips into his room. the door clicks shut behind him, the sound final, and it echoes in the hollow space.

you stand still, the weight of his absence pressing heavily on your chest. the spot where he left you feels like a grave, your feet sinking into the cold floor as if it’s pulling you under. the warmth he offered, the fleeting sense of safety, is gone, and you’re freezing.

you try to breathe, but the air feels sharp, your throat tight with the effort to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. it’s useless, though.

your bare feet shuffle against the floor, but you can’t move forward. you can’t go back. you can’t do anything except stand there and feel the weight of it all crash down on you.

you’d been so afraid this would happen. how could you have been so foolish? even in the midst of the sweetness, you knew it was too good to be true. a part of you always knew.

and yet, you let yourself believe for a fleeting moment that something real could come from it. that you could be enough.

you’d have done anything to prove it to him. to show him your loyalty, your willingness to make it work. you still would. you’d give him every part of yourself, if he’d only take it. if he’d only look at you the way you want him to.

the full weight of your reality sinks in. in the end, none of it was truly real.

a sob breaks free from your chest, raw and painful. the sound echoes in the quiet hallway, bouncing off the walls that now feel oppressive, like they’re closing in on you. this house, every corner, it’s all stained now, tainted by the lie you let yourself fall into.

and you? you feel tainted, too.

[starkeymeow]

fetish for my love.

plot ── at a party, you dance like you don’t care and rafe watches like he always does, until some drunk idiot makes a move, and rafe reminds everyone, especially you, that complicated or not, you’re his.

authors note ── i love relationships that r literally the most toxic yet healthiest 😞 yes this is bc im on season 3 of shameless. i love ian n mickey. ALSO i need to start those hunger games series asap for rafe too pls im having sm ideas

main masterlist | tag list

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN COMPLICATED WITH RAFE. never clean, never soft, never easy. you tell yourself you’re ready for him, whatever that even means. ready for the way he kisses you like he owns you, talks to you like he hates how much he needs you. ready for the bruises on your neck that he never apologizes for, only stares at the next morning with a smirk that says he’s proud.

you’re not stupid. you know you and rafe aren’t just hooking up. he doesn’t let you breathe near another guy. he drags you onto his lap at parties like you’re some kind of trophy, like he’s staking claim. he doesn’t share, never has.

but he also doesn’t commit. not really. not out loud.

he’s frustrating. impossibly stubborn. confusing to the point of insanity. but god, he’s hot.

and that’s why you’re here, pressed under the weight of his arm at some random party on figure 8. you’re not even sure who it belongs to. you don’t care. sarah’s here, so are topper and kelce. they’ve got drinks in their hands and sun on their cheeks, laughing about something you stopped listening to ten minutes ago.

you feel rafe’s touch through your shirt, the possessiveness of his arm draped around your shoulders, fingers tracing a pattern against your collarbone like muscle memory. like he’s done this a thousand times before.

and you barely notice her at first, a touron. she’s pretty in a try-hard way. long legs, glossy lips, that annoying baby voice that makes your skin crawl. she floats into your circle like she belongs, all sugar-sweet smiles and fake tan confidence.

she says something to rafe you can’t hear over the music. gets on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. you watch him lean down, lips twitching. he smiles.

it’s not the smile he gives you.

sarah shifts beside you. you can feel her glance, like she’s waiting to see how you’ll react. like she knows this is about to get ugly. and then rafe says, “yeah.”

just one fucking word, casual and cold, and then he’s gone.

his arm slips off your shoulder like you were never there to begin with, and he follows that girl through the crowd, disappearing without even looking back.

your stomach turns. heat flashes behind your eyes. you blink, trying not to show it, not to feel it.

you stare at the empty space beside you and shake your head, forcing a laugh that’s more bitter than amused. “asshole,” you mutter, just loud enough for sarah to hear.

she doesn’t say anything. she doesn’t have to. you’re already reaching for another drink because if rafe’s gonna play this game again, fine. you know how to play dirty too.

eventually it’s later into the day, the party’s still going. music’s still thumping through the backyard, louder than necessary, but no one’s complaining. not when the drinks keep flowing and the energy stays wild.

you’re on a table with sarah, both of you swaying to the beat like you don’t give a single shit who’s watching. because you don’t. maybe you’ve had a little too much. maybe your vision’s a little fuzzy at the edges, but you feel good.

you throw your head back and laugh when sarah spins in a lazy circle, her drink sloshing dangerously close to spilling. your hips move with the rhythm, arms lifted in the air, and the crowd keeps moving around you like waves crashing, shifting, never stopping.

some guys cheer. others whistle. a group near the pool is definitely yelling something stupid, but it’s all background noise.

you’re paying attention to sarah, and only sarah. you don’t notice him watching, but rafe sees everything.

he’s leaning back on something. maybe a wall, maybe a post, who the fuck knows, but his eyes are locked on you like you’re the only thing in the frame.

it’s always like this with you. he can never look away for long. can never relax when there’s any guy near you, not when he knows exactly what they’re thinking. because he thinks it too.

you’re beautiful. obnoxiously beautiful. and the way you move, the way you laugh, the way you don’t even notice how every man in a 20-foot radius is staring like they’ve never seen a woman before? it drives him insane.

so when he catches the guy near your table—some sloppy, wasted kook fumbling with his wallet—rafe already knows what’s about to happen. he straightens up, jaw tight.

the guy’s barely standing, laugh slurred, waving a folded dollar like it’s hilarious. like he’s about to make the joke of the year. and then, he reaches forward, aims that bill right for the waistband of your skirt. and rafe is there.

his hand snaps out, grabbing the guy’s wrist with a force that makes the idiot yelp, “fuck, dude—”

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” rafe snaps.

the guy’s face crumples in confusion. “chill, bro. i was just . . . what’s wrong with you—?”

rafe snatches the bill from his hand like it offends him, shoves the guy back with his free arm, chest puffed and rage practically humming under his skin. “you got a death wish or you just fuckin’ stupid?”

the guy stumbles, trying to laugh it off, but his smile cracks when rafe steps forward again. no one steps in. no one ever does when rafe’s like this.

he doesn’t even need to throw a punch. just that look, cold, pissed, ready to ruin someone, sends the guy scrambling backwards, mumbling something and disappearing into the crowd. and then it’s just him and you again.

you’re still dancing, not even realizing what just happened behind you. rafe lets his eyes drift down your legs, over the way your skirt clings to your hips, up the curve of your waist.

he steps forward and reaches up, brushing the side of your thigh. you glance down.

his hands find your waist, firm and familiar, lifting you down from the table like it’s nothing. like he needs you back on the ground where he can reach you.

“what are you—” you start, the words half a laugh, breathless and confused.

but rafe doesn’t answer. he holds up the crumpled hundred dollar bill. doesn’t say a word. just tucks it gently, deliberately, behind the strap of your bra, fingers brushing your skin, his eyes never leaving yours.

your mouth opens in surprise, brows lifting like really?

but he’s already leaning in, taking your chin between his fingers. his lips crash into yours without warning, rough, fast, like he’s been holding it back all day and finally stopped pretending.

and then he pulls away just enough to wrap his arm around your shoulders, dragging you flush against his side.

you don’t know what just happened. you don’t know what any of this means. but you’re smiling. because rafe don’t play about his girl!! and tonight, every night, that’s exactly what you are.

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms

[meganegatari]

Okay.. but like, loser ellie but she’s also a stoner and explains the entire lore of spider man to you while you’re trying to have seggs and she’s like stoned out of her mind and yapping about literally spider man 😭

before you read!!

☆: THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING LMFAO had me dying for like 10 mins straight. this is longer than intended bc im a yapper as we know, and i kinda don't know much of the spiderman lore (and you can def tell oops)…BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS NONNIE.

◇: sfw but suggestive themes. warning: FAR from my best work, just wanted to keep momentum going ig. basically just fluff, lots of buildup as usual SORRY i have to establish a plot before we get to the good stuff…they're of age obviously, their relationship is left vague/up for interpretation so fill in the blanks w/ your own thoughts! “babe” pet name usage, consumption of weed, duh. ok i suppose that's all. OH AND SBWM REFERENCE HAHAHA (shameless self plug :3) + 1.0k wc.

One nice, regular night, chilling at Ellie’s humble abode, getting high, the usual Friday evening activities. You both were laying down in her bed, wrapped up in her dinosaur bedsheets of course, you were resting your head on her chest, occasionally coughing and swatting away the residual smoke that lingered in the air.

The weed had made your head fuzzy and your mouth drier than the Sahara desert, but despite all the not-so-great things, you loved to get high with Ellie.

Sometimes you'd fuck, sometimes you'd talk about life and reminisce about the good, the bad, and the ugly, and sometimes you'd just lay there to enjoy each other's company.

She was so warm and comfortable, you simply wished to merge bodies and become one with her, to make a home inside her ribcage even. You'd be perfectly fine just napping there on her cushiony chest, listening to her steady heartbeat and slow intakes of breath, if it wasn't for the familiar ache of need between your legs.

Shifting to look up at her, she was so incredibly zooted out of her mind, you found it hilarious. Chunky glasses covered in fingerprint smudges and sitting crooked atop her nose, eyes blood-red and so heavy lidded, you'd have thought she was asleep had you not taken a closer look.

You lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to the side of her pink cheek, repeatedly kissing her soft, smooth skin. She let out a husky giggle, her voice all hoarse and crackly from the substance. “Hiiii.”

She dragged out the vowel, grinning widely at you. Her smile was infectious, and you laughed at her state. Burying your face again in the crook of her neck, you mumbled, “Hi Ellie…you're so cute.”

Tangled up together, you kissed her some more on her neck, wanting to be as close as possible to her. She sighed, and angled her head to give you better access to more surface area. “That feels nice.” She'd slur, and you were pretty turned on at this point, to say the least.

It was worth asking. “Ellie…do you wanna fuckkk?” You whisper against her ear, and watch in delight as the bright-red blush spreads across her entire face like a wildfire, even reaching her collar, and spreading underneathyour shirt. “Um, yeah, duh. C’mere.”

You pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tangling your hands in her auburn locks and parting your puffy lips to invite her tongue in, not noticing the spit dribble down your chin where your faces met. Her breathing quickened immediately, and she whined into your mouth, the kisses getting even messier to the point where your teeth were clinking together, so you backed away for a breather.

The two of you shifted positions so she was now on top of you, resting her hand on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. She moved in to initiate more lip-locking, but pulled away abruptly.

“Babe I forgot to tell you, so y’know Peter Parker, right?” And there she goes.

“Yeah, yeah I know him, can you just-” You try to rush past the beginnings of her rambling, because you knew once she got started, there was no end in sight. At least for a while.

You tried pulling her in to meet your lips again by the back of her head, but were met with lots of resistance. She seemed to look more alert now, a miracle. The power of superheroes!

She shuffled off of you and sat upright, assuming a cross-legged position, clearly not noticing your exasperated huffs and purposely obnoxious eye rolling, and the fact that there was a whole-ass human, half undressed, horny girl on her bed right there in front of her, who was slowly losing patience.

Ellie just went to her own world. Her eyes sparkled with passionate wonder as she thought about the series so dear to her heart. “Okay I rewatched all the movies a few days ago and I noticed something new…”

You were ready to give up what you originally had in mind, she was too far gone. She talked and talked endlessly, and you had to feign interest, nodding along and murmuring, “Mhm, yeah Els. Wow that's cool. Huh, never knew.” As enthusiastically as you could, so she didn't feel like she wasn't being listened to.

It was worth noting too though, when she started info-dumping about her interests she really was adorable, an excitement in her grassy eyes you never see otherwise, gesturing wildly with her hands and mapping out ideas to make it easy for someone who's never seen any of it to digest all this new information.

“...And then, in the movies Into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, there's this character called Gwen Stacy.”

She stops to cough and clear her throat, now seemingly appearing to completely forget that you were even there.

“And- oh yeah! She's also in the comics and ugh she's awesome, I really love her suit. It's got a hood on it…if I were to have a spider suit, it would be her style. Hm, it would also be mostly like, green…with red accents, ah I'm gonna show you all the sketches I made of it. But anyway…”

To be completely honest, you've been out of the mood for enough time now, and you've come to the realization that it actually didn't bother you.

This was Ellie, and you loved her for her! There was always next time you two met for a smoke session, you just loved spending time with someone so treasured such as her, and you'd be lying to say the Spiderman world wasn't a little interesting.

"That's so cool, wait. Okay can you explain the timeline of it all, oh and also how do all these different movies interact, is it the same universe, or something like the multiverse I think you mentioned?”

[shidoglazer]

sae itoshi smut mdni just pure filth i think

one thing about sae is that he’s extremely disciplined, so you should never expect to catch him masturbating, asking for sex or even watching porn for that matter.

and its quite funny, because sometimes you could see him, early in the morning just going about his day drinking his tea while his morning wood pokes out of his shorts, straining against the fabric. you try to keep your decency and not look, because how can this man be so shameless ?? obviously he’s not dense, he catches on quickly.

“get your mind out of the gutter.” he speaks in his raspy morning voice before walking towards you, giving you a light peck on the head as he heads towards the bathroom to get ready while you’re standing there embarrassed, confused, flustered and blushing.

though, he is just a human. if you tease and poke at him enough, he’ll let you ride his thigh to get off. don’t expect anything from him though, maybe just a few praises here and there— “you’re quite the sight, aren’t you? cmon, lets get you cleaned up.” as he picks you up after cumming on his thigh. nothing more than that.

well, unless you’re in the position where you’re jumping up and down on a silicone toy while moaning his name repeatedly, eyes shut as tears threaten to fall— a pleasant surprise for him when he got back from his training a little earlier than usual. he wouldn’t say anything yet, let alone make a noise, just let him enjoy the sight as his boner builds up.

“ah, sae, sae, sae! s’good s’good, mmaking me feel s’goood!!..”

“am i now?” …. shit.

your grinding stops and your eyes fly open to see your boyfriend crouching right in front of you, you try to muster something, anything, but your effort goes to waste as it transforms into a moan when saes hands trails to the plush of your ass, squeezing them gently as his face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“did you miss me too much? hadn’t been making a lot of time for you lately, hm?” one of his hands remain at your ass as once reaches up to stroke your back, acting as if a dildo isn’t stuffed in you right now. nevertheless, you nod sheepishly, the side of your head rubbing against his hair as your hands clutch onto his sweat dampened jersey. “..yeah.. missed you, sae. y’re a big fat brute for leaving me alone for so long.” in which he lets out a breathy chuckle, pressing a kiss onto your neck.

“then let me make it up to you. hm?” god, it was embarrassing how fast you nodded without hesitation.

(>﹏<) . . .

a/n im gonna leave you guys on a cliffhanger because i dont feel nice rn if u wanna know what happens next FOLLOW TO SHIDOGLAZER AND LIKE EVERY ONE OF HER POSTS !!!!! 🥰🥰😘😘😍😍

masterlist

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

im not sure what it ia, but i LOVE the little remora. i love it i love it i lvoe it

it makes me insane id love to groom ghosts scales, and everyone elses scales. i want to clean soap up, even if he see's poor ol remora as a toy to play with, i just wanna scrub them all up!

(i love this already. i love mer's)

the more shark mer Ghost pushes you away the more you wanna take care of him so so bad <3

you find yourself pouting a lot at Ghost’s surly attitude, darting up and down his big scarred body, as he tries to nap. tries to, but can’t.

it has nothing to do with you. he has these bouts of insomnia. but they make his temper real short.

regardless! you insist he needs to let you groom him. it’s been days. you get twitchy when he makes you skip your daily grooming with him. the rituals. the rituals are intricate.

“i’m trying to rest, you little pest,” he growls. "come back later. or not at all."

you tell him (tartly) that he said that yesterday and the day before.

“i meant it then and i mean it now. go away before i decide to chase you off.”

like he would. he hardly exists during the day as anything but a grumpy seafloor log. you swear you’ve seen bottom-feeders start nibbling on him he’s so inert.

(nibbling on him is your job.)

you settle down on the sand next to him on your stomach. you don't touch him yet, but he's just within reach. you stare at his pale, scarred sharkshin with bright eyes, practically vibrating in place.

he can feel your eyes on him. worse—he can feel the impatient flicking of your tail fin agitating the water as you stare at him. how can such a small creature be so terribly full of want, he wonders. your anxious energy is like too much salt in his gills.

“i will bite you," he warns. “i’m not in the mood.”

rationally, you know he doesn't like to be touched sometimes, no matter how you insist he'll feel better once he's clean. and still your anxious mind won't calm down until you're absolutely sure you've made yourself useful.

you lay your palms on the silt, fingers inching silently closer to him.

he growls, low and dangerous. the one that means he’s run out of patience and is about to make good on his threats.

you jolt and flatten yourself against the sand in instinctive submission. you’re not a threat, see? you’re harmless. you’re basically just a little piece of seaweed, c’mon.

your instant compliance does nothing to calm him. if anything, the sight of your immediate surrender drives him to double down.

he grabs you by the by the nape of your neck and lifts you up to eye level. “i warned you not to touch me.”

your stupid little heart leaps because all his attention is on you now. you want to wrap your hands around his eagerly, want to reach out and touch his chest. but you can only get close enough to skim his chest with your clawtips.

the sensation only makes him tense.

you quickly bring your hands in and wring them, trying to stop being a bother. "please can i—"

he glares down at you, teeth bared. “no,” he snaps. cold, firm, immediate.

but the more he tries to repel you, the more desperately you want to please him. to get back into his good graces. you feel every bit the creature full of anxiety and neuroses he thinks you are--always trying to figure out how to feel useful and stay on the other mers' good side.

he can see that in your eyes—the desperate need to be useful. it’s what he hates most about you. he can't stand how compliant you are at this moment. how desperate. how eager you are to please even after he's been nothing but cruel to you.

he squeezes you. your body thrums nervously in his grip.

“you little parasite. what part of ‘don’t touch me’ is so hard for you to understand?”

all of it. you stare up at him with big, blank eyes.

“you can't get the simplest instructions through your thick skull, can you?"

you shake your head (kind of, best you can) in his grip as a shameless display of agreement. he’s right, you’re stupid. so stupid.

Ghost scowls. eager, willing to degrade yourself at the smallest fucking thing.

"don't tell me you're getting off on this.”

okay! you won’t.

at that, you see the look in his eye shift from anger to something more devious. your response is so quick and willing that he can't help but smirk.

of course. of course you’d comply. no matter how hard he pushes, how cruel he is, you simply ask for worse. you're a little masochist. a nuisance. worse, you’re his nuisance. you insist on being around him, on seeking him out every bloody day.

he tolerates your presence. that's more than anyone else gets. and you take the precious little patience he gives you and wear it threadbare??

he can’t abide that. he can’t let your audacity go unchecked.

"look at you," he hisses. "eager to debase yourself at the first sign of anger. don't you think that's just pathetic?"

you nod enthusiastically.

mindless creature. willing to let him treat you any way he wants if it means attention. pitiful.

"say it," he growls.

you do. you happily tell him you’re pathetic.

“that you are. finally, something sensible out of that pretty mouth.”

you’re wired—fucking blitzed at the mere implication of good girl in his tone.

“and you're my little parasite. mine to do with as i please."

your whole body wants to curl in delight, your tail twisting like an eel in the sand below you as he eases you onto your back.

his eyes rake over you. you are the picture of obedience and submission, all pinned down and ready.

“look at you,” he rasps. “so desperate to please me. you’d do anything i tell you right now, yeah?”

yes. yes. anything.

he leans in and puts his mouth to your ear. "then let me sleep."

then he’s gone.

you lay in the sand in blank, sexually charged confusion.

by the time you slap your tail into the sand to twist yourself up into the water, half-flustered and hot-tempered, you see the ends of Ghost’s chewed-up tailfins disappear into his favorite dark cave.

before you can give chase, the familiar shape of Soap passes overhead, and he's chuckling as he dives down to you.

Soap’s grin widens as he watches your face cycle through frustration, confusion, and irritation.

you can’t believe Ghost would do that to you.

“of course he’d do it,” Soap says. he saw the whole thing.

you bluster and he coos a little teasing sympathy at you, ushering you up into his arms instead. poor wee cuttlefish, he calls you. lays it on thick because he knows you're looking for a place to expend all that pent up energy now.

he whisks you away somewhere more private so you can tend to him instead. groom him all you want. tell him your troubles. maybe let him make good use of your compliant nature. he tells you it’s a good way to make Ghost jealous.

meanwhile, Ghost is finally able to snooze contentedly, dreaming of you, maybe. he does owe you a little thanks for that small catharsis you gave him.

...

more mer au / more Ghost / masterlist tag

[byuntrash101]

the good friend

f!reader x san x mingi ft ateez smut | mdni 3.4k san has known about mingi’s crush on his girlfriend for a while now. he also happens to be a very good and caring friend who values their friendship very much. and san would do just about anything to help a friend nsfw tags under the cut

a lil plot, idol!au, established relationship, bf san, mingi is the simp master, also rengoku hair mingi because i miss him, alcohol consumption (but consent is unquestionable), safe word mentionned but not used, pet names, (baby, princess, sannie...), unprotected sex (recommanded by 0/10 dentists), wall sex, semi public sex (full dorm hallway sex), exhbitionism/voyeurism, dirty talk, slight breath play (gentle), masturbation (f & m), controlled orgasm (f)

a/n: OMGGGG THIS ONE IS JUST SDMLKSQDMMSQLKKFF. i kinda like how turned out because im feral and shameless when it comes to these men. if you like it PLEASE TELL ME i might make a part 2 👀

@shinestarhwaa for you boo <3

sequel | ateez masterlist | navigation

It’s funny how Mingi is still stuck in this same situation years later, he thought while staring at you from across the kitchen table. When he first saw you 5 years ago, your back leaned against the company building, eyes glued to your phone, he thought of how pretty you were but he was late for practice again and he knew he was going to be scolded by Hongjoong so he just hurried himself in.

This encounter should have been left at that, he would have forgotten about you the next day and he would be at peace right now. 

But no.

You were still waiting there when he got out much much later at night, sweaty, tired and starving. He took a look at you again but this time you lifted your face from the screen of your phone and your eyes met. He didn’t know why he was flustered and cursed himself silently when he whipped his head to the side, quickly breaking eye contact. But despite the uninviting body language you took the first step in his direction. It took everything he had in him not to stumble back and stand his ground in the most natural way he could muster given his current state.

‘Hmm… Excuse me?” you started hesitantly, “Hmm… I’m looking for…” Mingi was all ears and eyes for you, focussing on your every move and word. In that split instant he noticed the color of your eyes, the soft texture of your hair and the mesmerizing way your lips moved to form words, that made sentences which he was supposed to listen to and he was arguably doing a poor job. But right when he was losing focus you were interrupted.

“Y/N!!” San’s voice resonated from the entryway. You whipped your head in the direction of the voice and turned away from Mingi with the most radiant and heavenly smile he had ever seen. 

“Nevermind. Thank you” you said quickly before running to San’s side. 

Mingi stood there for a second completely stunned as he watched the pair of you walking away, San’s hand reaching for yours right before you disappeared at the intersection. 

The next day San made him promise not to tell anyone he saw you waiting for him. He didn’t tell him exactly you were his girl but Mingi was smart enough to figure that out on his own.

And that should have been the end of the story. You should have remained San’s secret girlfriend and Mingi would have forgotten about you and your perfect smile in a week or two…

But once again… no. It did not go that way.

Over the years it got worse. You both grew, you weren’t 18 anymore. You grew into a beautiful, stunning woman and Mingi grew into a man. And you even became friends. With the years you got to meet the rest of Ateez. You became friends with all of them but you were closest to Mingi without a doubt, much to his disarray.

That’s exactly how he came to stare at you from across the kitchen table as you were leaning your head on San’s broad shoulder, barely holding your head up as you had one too many bottles of grapefruit soju. San was gently caressing your flushed cheek.

Everybody was laughing, drinking and enjoying themselves, but Mingi who was also slightly drunk just couldn’t stop staring at you, stealing glances at you through his eyelashes. To the others he looked like he was zoning out like he usually does after a drink or two but in fact he was focussing on you. Precisely on your neck and the sleeve of your top slowly sliding off your shoulder. The large and rounded neckline of your loose oversized top was barely hanging to the edge of your shoulder at this point and if you moved even in the slightest it would completely expose your shoulder. To everyone present that wasn’t a big deal. Nobody had even noticed apart from Mingi. And when you lift your head up again to bark at Wooyoung that was making fun of you for being a lightweight it happened.

The tired sleeve gave in. Mingi had a front row seat on your delicate collar bone and the smooth skin of your shoulder lightly shiny. If only that was it he could have handled it but the large neck line was also hanging very low on your chest so low that his eyes were rapidly forgetting about your shoulder to solely focus on your chest. His eyes scanned the shadow of your cleavage, the ceiling light was casting on you, he imagined how your breasts would feel in his large palms, how soft your skin would be and how your nipples would taste on his tongue.

He thought so much that he started pitching a tent in his large cargo pants. The tent of shame like he liked to call it. The tent he tried to fight off so many times because San was one of his best friends… And you were… his.

That thought broke his own heart.

“Well! I’m swamped, guys. I’m going to bed” he declared getting up, both fists stuffed in his large pockets concealing the “shame”.

The others grumbled to make him stay. They were having a nice time but honestly he just wanted to catch a break from his own heart and hop into the shower.

San knew exactly why he wanted to leave. He had known for a while about Mingi’s feelings for you. In reality everyone knew except for two people. One was Mingi who thought he was so good at concealing himself when in reality he was staring at you like a puppy all day and the other one was yourself. You just never noticed because to you Mingi was a friend, an attractive friend, granted! But a friend nonetheless. You didn’t think further than that. To you the idea of him having feelings for you was so far-fetched that the thought never entered the realm of possibilities.

Once Mingi had decided to go, the members followed one by one, Hongjoong was the second one. At the end only Wooyoung and Yeosang were playing a drinking game while you and San crashed on the couch. 

San was absentmindedly playing with your hair when he caught your hand dangerously slipping below his belt. He gripped your wrist firmly, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

“Y/n~~” he quietly singsang. He knew that was going to happen. Alcohol had only one single effect on you. It made you horny. Without fail, whenever you all gathered like this and drank, it made you feral. And today San felt mischievous.

***

Mingi exhaled a big sigh before stepping in the shower, the hot water running on his large back helped him take his mind off the chatter and laughter erupting from the living room at the end of the hall for a while he just glided the soap across his body. The hot air made him dizzy. He felt the warm water on his face letting the stream run down his hair. As he closed his eyes, flashes of you came back to him. 

Your cute flushed face, eyelids half closed, your eyes made sparkly from the soju, this adorable dorky smile you wore all evening, the exposed patch of skin, the neckline of your top hanging so low on your chest. He wondered without even realizing about the way he would have loved to lay you down on that table right there. Peeling your clothes one by one, taking his sweet time admiring your body slowly giving away all its secrets. 

He felt himself becoming hard again. He kept his eyes shut as he guided the soapy foam along his half hard member. 

He dreamed about the melodic wet sounds you would make when he would slide inside you, about the way you would grip him so perfectly, about how your eyes would roll back and your lips would lazily hang open as you lost yourself to his cock, abandoning yourself to him, only him.

He gripped his length even tighter, rapidly dragging his fist up and down his shaft, turning his tip bright red from his arousal and the hot water.

He thought even harder about your hands muffling your high pitched moans shamefully as his powerful thrusts rocked your body under him.

Fuck he wants to see you like that, he wants to have you like that he thought as he drove himself crazy, on the verge of bursting. He felt himself twitch in his hand, precum and soap mixing perfectly making this sinful act easier than ever. 

“Fuck” he grunted considering to finally let himself go but at the last second he opted out of it. He suddenly let go of the aching organ, twitching and pulsing, hot and dripping red tip begging for release.

But Mingi just couldn’t keep doing that anymore. Just seeing you in the day act like your friend and fuck himself to the thought of you at night. He had to somehow snap out of this trance, break free from the spell you casted on him five years ago back in Gang-nam.

After five years he had to come to the realization that you were with San and you would never be with him.

So without thinking twice Mingi turned the water from scolding hot to icy. That had two purposes: one calming his raging boner and two taking his mind off the painful reality he had to accept. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and hissed in discomfort at the sudden temperature change. But it was efficient enough.

He quickly dried off and wrapped the wet towel around his waist. He crossed the living room to head out to the hall where San's room and his were. But when he entered the hall…

“Please”

Immediately he hid behind the corner of the L shaped hall out of pure instinct. That kind of sounded like… you?

“Please” you whimpered again. 

This time there was no doubt it was in fact your voice. 

“Can’t we do it in your room?” you asked, your voice interrupted by muffled moans.

“No I wanna take you right here” San responded, determined.

“But what if Mingi comes back from his shower?”

San smirked. That was exactly his intention but he just chuckled and brushed off the question. 

“Also if you really didn’t want to do it here. You’d use the safe word, right baby?” San’s smirk grew bigger as you stayed silent. “Wanna use the safe word baby?”

“No…” you admitted half heartedly.

“That’s what I thought” he said brushing his tip against you.

San wanted to be caught. He couldn't explain it properly but recently he started thinking about maybe offering Mingi some kind of relief. Because he’s had that huge crush on you for so long it must be really troublesome for him, right? So this little show for him was kind of a way to blow some steam off for him. Yeah! That’s right! San was doing that out of the goodness of his heart, out of friendship! Because he cared oh so dearly about his friend and not because the idea of having an audience flipped a switch in him. A flip he’s been fantasizing about for a while now.

“Spread your legs” San whispered. 

Mingi’s heart rattled against his ribs and rang in his ears. He held his chest as he didn’t even dare to breathe, not to mention move a single muscle.

“Babygirl” San started his lips pressed against the thin skin of your neck. “You’re already this wet for me”

His fingers brushed against your center, still clothed but already soaking wet.

“Were you touching yourself at the table again?” 

You nodded shyly. You just couldn’t help getting incredibly horny every time you had a drink.

“Yes” you admitted in a shameful whisper.

“What a naughty girl. Passing the blush as an effect of the alcohol when in fact you're touching yourself under the table despite your boyfriend’s friends gathered all around you.” you whined. “Maybe it’s even exactly why you couldn’t resist the urge huh baby?”

Mingi bit his lip, trying his hardest not to gasp. To think that you busied your hands into your folds while he was eyeing your exposed chest. And to think maybe, just maybe, you exposed yourself on purpose?

“Please… Sannie…” you begged again.

Mingi was going crazy. This whole time he was just leaning his bare back on the wall, dampened locks of hair, trailing water down his body. He couldn’t see anything he didn’t dare to move a muscle but fuck did he want to have a peek. Before he could even realize the raging boner was back on. Forcefully pulling up the towel he had tied around his hips.

“I love it when you beg baby” San whispered, lips pressed to your blazing skin.

Me too. 

Mingi thought so loud he was scared you would both hear him. One hand instinctively traveled to his engorged member, giving it a firm squeeze at the base while the other hand was pushing his flaming red and yellow hair back.

“Please… I can’t wait anymore” you said, granting your boyfriend’s wish.

“Please what, baby?” San teased again as he pushed your panties to the side. You hissed when you felt his tip brush against your bare pussy, digging your nails in his broad back.

“Cock!” you hurriedly replied, lust filling your mind. So eager you could barely form intelligible sentences “I want your cock” you demanded in a strangled whisper, hardly keeping your voice down.

Mingi had fought the idea of you against his own mind too many times today. He won at the dinner table and he won again in the shower but this battle… Knowing you there begging to be filled to the brim, exposed for anyone who might stumble across the sinful scene… He couldn’t fight that. He had to look. He had to see you.

So he dared. He dared to peek, just enough to have a look. Just one eye is all it took. And he saw…

He saw the both of you entangled into each other, both facing one another, your back pressed against the wall while San gripped your hips firmly with one hand and lifted one of your legs up with the other to grant himself access to your beautiful and soaked little pussy. He saw his friend’s smirk and eyebrow twitch as he gently pushed himself into your welcoming folds. But all this was only anecdotal. Because nothing, nothing! could come close to you. Mingi only had eyes -one eye in this case- for you.

He saw how your mouth went agape as you took him in, he saw how you arched your back and rested your head on the wall you were pressed up against. And he heard you trying your hardest not to make a noise and failing so miserably, much to his contentment. 

That sound, that fucking sound. He will never forget.

The raspy sigh you produced, audible bliss dripping from your lips as you refused to close your eyes, taking in the exalted face of your boyfriend.

San spotted from the corner of his eyes the flaming red strands of hair peeking from the angle of the hall. It made him smirk, his little scheme had worked. It made him even more determined to put on a good show for his friend, determined to drag those beautiful sounds out of you until you would beg him to stop. And you could have sworn you felt him grow even bigger inside you.

Without a second thought San settled a pace that was especially designed for you. Deep and slow. Just enough to keep you on edge. With every roll of his hips into yours you felt every single inch of his length deliciously scraping your clenching walls, gripping him desperately.

“Fuckkk” you cried out, biting down on your lower lip.

“You like that baby?” San asked you, the evil twinkle of lust dancing in his eyes.

“Yesss” you sighed, barely holding yourself up on the only leg that was supporting you. 

You gasped as he bottomed out again, this time staying there for a while. You instantly started to rock your hips into his, desperately clinging onto the friction.

“That’s right baby” San growled as his veiny hand left your side to tightly wrap around your narrow neck. “Fuck yourself on my cock”

And you were more than happy to oblige. You lost it at his words, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to coerce you.

Unholy wet squelching noises bounced back on the walls of the narrow hall all the way to Mingi ears. His hands violently pumping up and down his cock, thick slimy precum coating his tip and being dragged with each movement along his shaft. It was so hard not to make any noise but he pulled himself together just so he could keep looking at you.

“Sannie Please… Fuck me harder” the last ounce of bashfullness had evaporated out of your body as the carnal sin was clouding your judgement. “Fuck me senseless” your tone was demanding. You just couldn’t bear it anymore. You wanted to cum. You need to cum.

Mingi can't believe his ears or his eyes or any of his senses as a matter of fact… To hear you say these words with so much drive, so much desire. To see you plead with those sultry eyes… If only he was the one right there between your legs right now. If only he was the one pumping his hot and dripping cock into you until completion. If only he was the one feeling your cunt clench and pulse around him.

“Your wish is my command, Princess” San whispered before he caught your other leg and lifted you up, flipping both your legs onto his shoulders and folding you in two against the wall. And he slid himself right back in. Where was his rightful place. You gasped, this position allowed him to go even deeper and tears started to cloud your vision as his tip so precisely hit on your sensitive spot. Both of your hips perfectly angled to fit inside each other.

“Fuck yessss… j-just like that” you whispered through gritted teeth. “Please don’t stop Sannie”. Your voices shaken with each of San’s violent thrusts. “Fuck I love your cock” you sobbed as your eyes lost their focused and your mind slipped in thick foggy haze. And San chuckled, his eyes leaving yours for a split second to briefly look at the flamboyant orange tuft of hair peeking from the corner of the hall.

Fortunately Mingi was way to focus on you to notice San had spotted him.

Mingi was about to burst but he was determined to cum with you. Picturing your twitching cunt in place of his gripping fist.

You were a couple of thrusts away from coming undone and San knew it. He knew everything about your body. He knew every micro expression, every sound, every queue.

“You’re gonna cum baby?” he asked, short of breath.

“Yessss” you whined, trying hard not to cum on the spot.

“Cum now. Cum on my cock right now” he ordered.

That was what you needed. In a split second you let go of the knot you’ve been desperately hounding on to and completely lose your sanity in an earth shattering orgasm that washes over your body.

Quickly followed by Mingi. Uncontrollably twitching and delivering what felt like gallons of cum in the towel, completely soiling it. Maybe even ruining it forever. It was so good, he never came like this. So good that an ever so audible groan of bliss slipped past his lips and into the world. Instantly he bit his lip and stopped breathing but it was too late.

San also let himself go, a smirk dancing on his lips as he happened to catch the shameful groan. You were unaware of why but that amount of cum was unprecedented and you attributed it to the thrill of the fear of getting caught. But San knew it was simply the joy and fulfillment of being a good friend.

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

a/n: what a ride dskfmkfmdkmfl. you liked it? you want part 2? SPAM MY COMMENTS AND ASKS AND REBLOGS BECAUSE I LOVE READING YOUR REACTIONS MY POOKIES <333 (a threesome in part 2? 👀)

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taglist: @staytiny816 @onysmamas

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 4

04 : DISAPPEAR

SUM. : you find out the truth about the boys' relationship

REQUEST. : this might be a dumb question but are the marauders also all in a poly relationship with each other? if so, i'd love one where the reader finally has that realisation and gets all blushy and starts to consider if they'd ever want to include her —@thepunisherfrankcastle

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james ; tattoo artist sirius ; piercer remus ; only slight fluff ; mostly angst ; im so sorry ; reader finds out the truth ; but not really in the best way ; major misunderstanding trope ; sirius isn't a bad person! ; poly relationship revealed ; yay? ; distance ; walking away trope-ish ; james is precious ; remus trying to make the hard decisions ; our boys need a hug ; wolfstar ; starchaser ; angst angst angst ; im sorry im sorry im sorry!

LENGTH : 5.2k

← PREV. : 03 | GROCERIES

Hearing James giggling fills your chest with warmth and is so contagious that you have to bite your lip so as not to join him. He sees your resistance and moves his hand, making you freeze up and stop all movement. His index finger curls under your chin to lift your gaze as his thumb settles on your bottom lip and slowly draws it out from the press of your upper teeth. 

“I can’t be the only one laughing, angel,” on his face is an innocent smile but you know he’s devilish — the raging fire he lights up inside you with the smooth delivery of his simple statement is evidence enough that he’s up to no good.

His light grasp offers barely any resistance when you lift your chin away, “that’s because I’m not ticklish like you,” 

“Hey now,” he warns firmly but you can see the mutual playfulness reflecting clearly in his hazel eyes, it was like staring into clear honey, “you’re the one who’s colouring in my tattoo like a toddler,” 

“I was bored,” you defend a little too quickly, getting huffy and exaggerating a pitiful pout. It was… a sight, James admits in his head; you look adorable like this and he wants to frame the image in his memory forever, “and besides, you agreed to it,”

“Yeah, so don’t tease me about being ticklish,” his hand reaches up to play with a strand of your hair before he leans down to press a kiss onto your forehead, where you feel his mischievous smile lift up the corner of his lips, “instead, tell me how much you love to hear my laugh,”

There’s no way you’ll ever admit that. Not to his face, at least…

“Woah, comfy are we?~” came the familiar teasing voice of Sirius, who walks into the room and almost has his eyes bulging out at the sight of you and James, “you lucky bastard, Prongs,” Sirius clicks his tongue but there’s no malice in his eyes or tone, “shirtless, all relaxed and cool, leaning back into the sofa with our doll on your lap and colouring in your tats,” your cheeks heat up under your skin when a shameless expression takes over James’s face and he sends a wink over at his fellow tattooist. 

“I guess I saved the universe in a past life,” James chuckles, receiving an eye roll in return.

“And you, princess,” Sirius whistles playfully and leans down to kiss the crown of your head, “how lucky you are to have such well-sculpted muscles and a handsome face entertaining you,” the heat on your cheeks continue to blossom, “I don’t know who I’m more jealous of,”

That was the first time you were hinted at Sirius’s dichotomy. Between the wink he sends James and the satisfied grin the glasses-wearing brunette returns, you felt a slight shaking in your heart that you couldn’t quite place. 

It didn’t feel bad… but it didn’t feel good either…

After the first homemade lunch you made for them, you’ve gotten into the habit of regularly visiting the boys at the shop with boxed lunches whenever time nears noon. They often insisted that the first surprise lunch was enough thanks. 

“It’s really okay for you not to do this, dove,” Remus voices, slowly trailing off as he leans forward to wipe a stray crumb off the side of James’ mouth with his thumb, only to lick the crumb he wiped off without batting an eye. James pays him no mind either and continues savouring your cooking; he was always the one person who devoured your food as if he was a starved man being fed for the first time.

“But–” you quickly protest, trying to dismiss the small gesture between the two, “but I enjoy cooking for you,” 

“And we’re very grateful,” Sirius smiles warmly at you and takes your hand to press a kiss against your knuckles, “but your company is enough,” ever the flatterer and flirt, you resist the butterflies in your stomach from his gesture and words. 

“And we feel guilty that you have to buy and cook all this food,” Remus adds but you assure them one more time. 

“I promise I’ll stop if it ever gets too hard or burdensome but, for now, please let me do it…” the boys look at each other and smile following a unanimous sigh of defeat. You weren’t aware of the effect your soft pleas and pretty eyes had on them. Of course, they couldn’t say ‘no’ and agreed, satisfied with your pledge for the meantime. 

“Ugh! These cookies are amazing!” James praises, completely oblivious to the interaction you had with Remus and Sirius. He looks up and the three of you have to suppress your laughter at his childish appearance, crumbs surrounding his mouth as his cheeks puffed out from the food he still had to chew. 

“Swallow your food first, James,” Remus reminds, which James quickly does before addressing you again. 

“Can you please teach me?” James leans forward in earnest and you swear there are stars in his eyes, “please teach me how to make them so I can have them all the time. I’m an expert at making fruit tarts now but Moony and Padfoot are sick and tired of me making just fruit tarts,”

You were flattered but…“I want them to stay special though,” you pout softly, “I want to be the only person who bakes them for you,”

Before James could answer, Sirius breaks out into peels of laughter, “you don’t have to worry about that, doll,” he winks at you and side-eyes James with a smirk, “James sucks ass in the kitchen, especially when it comes to baking,” James shouts in protest but is swamped by the laughter shared between you, Remus and Sirius. Nevertheless, you finally agreed to teach him just so he stops pouting… even if he looked cute doing so. 

That Saturday, you were at their apartment, eager to teach James the secrets to your baking creations. Their flat was sizable and still relatively clean, which you verbally praise and are clued into all of their cleaning habits in more detail. It appears that they have a pretty good system going on that keeps things neat; Remus handles the organisation of all items and keeps stock on most things, Sirius proactively keeps all spaces clean and James loves doing laundry. When asked, he said that the main reason was because he liked the smell of clean sheets, which you couldn’t really blame him for. Together, their good habits cumulatively result in a tidy space and you were impressed; not only were they great friends but they functioned well together too. In some ways, you were envious of that. 

When you arrived at the apartment, the boys had all of the ingredients you sent over on a list laid out on their kitchen counters, ready to be put together and baked into your famous cookies. 

“Do you two want to join us?” you ask with a smile as James helped you into Sirius’ apron, tying up the strings behind you. 

“We’re good, darling,” Sirius smiles and offers to tie up your hair as James slips into his apron. You don’t deny his assistance and hand him over your hair tie as Remus observes the scene with a soft smile, leaning against the door frame that leads into the kitchen.

As much as Sirius and Remus disparaged James’ abilities to bake in the kitchen, he, once again, proved them wrong. He did pretty well with following your instructions and getting things done if you discounted the times he got distracted and had to pull you away from the work as well, just to share in the fun. The last time you baked together was a lot of fun and you were just as eager to get back into the kitchen with him in order to experience that joy all over again. Like last time, Sirius and Remus occupied the living room while you and James got to making the cookie dough before eventually baking the cookies. With the timer set, it won’t be too long before you’re happily serving everyone yours and James’ baked cookies with some tea and coffee. 

“It’s just down the hall,” James points out, directing you to their bathroom, “it’s the last door on your right,” with a quick word of thanks, you make your way out to relieve yourself while James gets started on clean up duty. You promised not to be too long so he didn’t have to clean all by himself but he just laughed it off and assured you to take all the time you need — ever the sweetheart. 

Your mood was light and happy and, like all other times you spent with the boys, it felt as if you were walking on air… that is, until you weren’t. From the corner of your eye, when passing the living room doorway, your heart came to a stuttering stop at the scene you happened upon. 

Seated on the sofa was Remus with Sirius’ laid down, his head on the tall brunette’s lap. It would have been a scene you could have easily shrugged off if it weren’t for Remus bending down so that the two could share a loving kiss. One that had Sirius running his fingers through Remus’ light brown hair, who returned the touch by tenderly gripping at Sirius’ thigh with a spare hand. You would have remained frozen there, like some petrified statue, if Sirius didn’t hum pleasantly only to have Remus chuckle against his lips. 

Hurrying to the bathroom, you struggle to get the scene out of your head as your heart breaks over and over again until the stinging pain in your chest dulls into a throbbing ache. 

If they were in a loving relationship then you were happy for them, truly…you were; they always looked so content and at bliss around each other, you felt stupid for not having put the puzzle pieces together yourself. It was just conflicting as to why they never hesitated to establish some sort of distance with you when they already had one another. They were together romantically and yet they were able to press loving kisses against your temple and wrap their arms around you with their loved one standing close by?...

“There you are,” James chuckles when you finally make it back into the kitchen, “I was starting to get worried that you somehow got lost on your way to the bathroom,” it was a weak attempt but you joined his laughter without offering to explain your whereabouts. Turning back to the sink, James returns to washing the dishes as you wordlessly get to wiping down the surfaces. He doesn’t appear to notice your sudden change in mood or, at least, he doesn’t let on that he knows; soon enough, he’s yapping away again, being his usual goofy self and drawing a smile from you. He almost makes you forget. You could always count on James to be your ray of sunshine; a happy bug who was eager to spread his contagious joy. 

Sirius and Remus were a… surprise, although you really should have known better than to not suspect anything. They’re happy though, and you’re happy for them; that’s what matters. 

It was hard to gauge whether or not you should confront them about the revelation you had about their relationship. You had to thoroughly think it over… 

There had to be a reason behind why Remus and Sirius didn’t want to tell you about their relationship and managed to get James in on it too. It must have been a very good reason. So you can’t fault them and resolve to stay silent on the matter. Their privacy needs to be respected; they’ll tell you when they’re ready, you’re sure of it. For now, you just have to act normal, as if nothing happened. The only problem was that you were left to wonder…

Why haven’t they told you? Is it awkward for them? Maybe they didn’t trust you enough? Did they think you were homophobic?— You’re not! You fully support all types of love in all its forms and would never be prejudicial towards them because they preferred the same gender. Or maybe they did trust you but the right time just never came up? That’s also plausible. They probably just need time…yeah! Time, you can give them that; you’re a very patient person, after all—

“—Dove?” 

“H-huh?” you blink rapidly, returning to the present as Remus tilts his head at you curiously. 

“Are you okay?” there’s an amused smirk painted across his lips as he eyes you up and down, “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” his warm voice is like a comforting hug on an autumn day, one that makes you want to lose all thoughts and melt into his arms. 

“Y-yeah!” you chirp as embarrassment begins to creep in, “Sorry about that,” he laughs with you, “I guess I got distracted,” Remus nods, understanding in his eyes as he turns to the clock on the office wall.

“The both of us have been at it for a while,” he hums when reading the time, “I think we deserve a break,”

“Snack run?” 

Seeing the delight in your eyes, Remus laughs and presses a kiss to your temple. It takes everything in you not to lean away out of respect for Sirius —you still need to act as normal as possible so you don’t draw attention but it’s getting harder and harder to do so, “snack run,” he confirms, his gaze lingering on your tight-lipped smile. It’s an awkward tilt of your lips and it doesn’t belong on your usually soft and brightly beaming features, Remus thinks to himself. He wants to ruminate on it’s appearance further but files away his thoughts for another day, “let me tidy up here first and I’ll meet you out front,”

Nodding stiffly, you hurry to leave and get to the front of the parlour, where you can safely catch your breath. There, you can recalibrate your thoughts and feelings from a safe distance—

Your gradually slowing thoughts come to a grinding halt as you pass. 

What did you just see?...

Angling yourself carefully and peeking through the crack of the door, you resist the urge to gasp in horror. In an otherwise empty tattoo room, Sirius sits in his tech chair and angles himself upwards as James stands and leans down to meet the former in a sweet kiss. 

Scandalised, you cover your mouth and step away from the door, suppressing a scream as racing thoughts pour into your head. 

SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!

All breath escapes you and the world begins to spin. The charming, loyal and honest character of Sirius that you’ve built up in your head breaks apart and you’re left spiralling at the implications of his betrayal. You feel like crying and vomiting and throwing a rage-filled fit all at the same time! Wait! —No! It’s not about what you want to do it’s about what you need to do and that’s to—

It was then that you hear Remus walking down the steps behind you. Your heart jumps in your chest and your stomach caves in on itself. Leaning forward, you peek through the crack in the open door again and find Sirius carefully prepping his tools for a later appointment while James is against one wall on the other side of the room, checking something on the computer. 

Good… Remus doesn’t have to see anything… you think to yourself, although the thought alone makes your heart break all over again. 

“Ready to go?” Remus asks, approaching you with a lifted brow of curiosity. He’s probably wondering why you haven’t made it to the front of the parlour yet. 

“I-I was just thinking!…uhh,” you bite your lip and try to keep your rising panic from reflecting in your eyes. 

“Hmm?”

“I don’t really want to go on a snack run,”

“Oh?” Remus didn’t even try to hide his surprise, it wasn’t like you to not go on a snack run — so much for wanting to act normal… “How come?”

“I just remembered something-!” it was a lame excuse but you could kill two birds with one stone through this, it’ll be worth it, “-something I wanted to talk to Sirius about—”

“You called?~” speak of the devil and he shall appear. Upon hearing his name, Sirius pulls open the door and flashes his usual charming smile, which only draws a chilling glare from you. Caught off-guard, Sirius blinks in surprise, “What’s the matter, dollface?”

A taunting whistle floats through the air from behind him as James steps up and eyes your unusually angry expression, “what did you do this time, Pads?”

“I-I don’t know…” his normally confident, unwavering voice stutters and is offered cautiously, almost scared despite the tattooist standing a good few inches taller than you. 

Finding some confidence, you square your shoulders and address Remus again but keep your glare focused on Sirius, “Why don’t you and James go on a snack run while I talk to Sirius?” you almost snap out the cheater’s name from spite. You can’t believe you ever deluded yourself into thinking he was a good person that could do no wrong. He’s charmed you, Remus and James, tricked all three of you and you weren’t going to stand for it. 

The two boys jokingly wish their friend ‘good luck’ as they walk past and head out, promising to get his favourites so he can nurse his wounds from the verbal beat-down he was about to receive with something yummy. It’s clear that James and Remus don’t really believe you’re capable of delivering much vengeance or rage but the fire in your eyes tells Sirius otherwise. As soon as the front door closes behind the two, you push Sirius back into the private tattoo room before he could utter a single word. 

“You need to explain yourself, Sirius Orion Black and you need to do it now!” you demand, your voice harsh and biting, something you’ve never done in front of the boys before and catches the traitor, in your eyes, by complete surprise. Sirius doesn’t know what he’s done but he already feels incredible guilt and sorrow over it. He’s never wanted to draw out such a horrid emotion out of you; you’re only allowed to feel happiness and love and comfort. Not this. Never this…

“I-I don’t understand, princess—” he reaches for you but you step away from his touch, your piercing glare and obvious rejection stabbing a knife through his chest. You’ve never pulled away from his reach before, he’s not used to this. What did he do? He would take it all back, whatever he did, if it meant that you would lean into his touch again rather than pull away. He’d do anything to quash the evident flames of rage in your eyes. What did he do?... What did he do goddamnit?! 

“I saw it! I saw everything! You’re playing both of them!” you shout, your rage lashing out and scorching him with their intense heat. There was no holding you back, you told him everything, about how you saw his kiss with Remus and James. His eyes widen in shock before filling with horror, which does nothing but corroborate your heart breaking revelations, “I don’t want to believe it! How could you do this to them, Siri?...” your shouting voice slowly quietens and tapers off at the end, quivering like a shaken autumn leaf. So heartbroken over the fact, your rage quickly turns into sorrow and tears quickly fill your eyes, “You’re better than that, I know you are!” and you really do. No matter how betrayed you feel and having witnessed the evidence first hand, you cling onto the little slither of faith you still had in Sirius, “Please tell them the truth, they deserve the truth… they deserve you being forthcoming with them because they’re good guys,”

Looking on at you, Sirius feels his heart break. This misunderstanding was tearing you up inside and, although it makes him happy to know that you would confront him and be angry for the boys at his supposed betrayal, watching you break down, and sob uncontrollably made Sirius’ heart twist and clench uncomfortably— painfully so. 

Without a word, he reaches out again and is able to bring you into his arms. You don’t return the gesture but you make no effort to push him away either. 

“Shhh Shhh Shhhhhh, darling…” Sirius whispers comfortingly, softly patting your hair as he waits for your sobbing to calm down enough for him to come clean. Scrap the plan, whatever bullshit plan they came up with to slowly ease you into accepting their relationship before selfishly asking for your love as well. He wasn’t going to let you continue misunderstanding their relationship, especially when it’s causing you so much pain, “...this is all a big misunderstanding…” he begins softly once your cries were finally reduced to soft sniffles, “do you know what polyamory is, sweetheart?”

“...n-no…”

“It’s when more than two people agree to be in a loving, romantic relationship with each other, all at the same time,” he explains in the same soft voice, his arms never pulling away from you as he feels you slowly lose your grip on resistance. 

“Is…is that…”

“Yes, that’s the relationship James, Remus and I are all a part of…” he looks down with a gentle smile and watches you peek up at him curiously. Sirius resists the urge to swoop down and pepper your face with kisses. Just when he thought his love for you couldn’t grow any bigger, here you were being the sweetest, most caring and lovable little thing he’s ever laid eyes on. 

However, you slowly begin to shake your head and the resistance in your eyes and expression returns. This time you push him away and keep him at arm's reach. Like a scared prey animal being cornered by a predator, you inch your way back until you're pressing yourself against the wall beside the door. It takes Sirius two steps forward to finally stop and keep his place so that you don’t feel pushed or stressed by his presence. 

“I-I won’t believe you until James and Remus say so…” 

He shrugs and gives you a pained smile. He supposes he can’t blame you for being cautious and not believing him, he’s the apparent ‘cheater’, afterall. 

You watch Sirius part his lips to voice something when you hear the parlour door open and rush into the hallway to see James and Remus walk in. The two were grinning cheekily at each other and their arms were piled high with an assortment of snacks. They held true to their promise; you could spot many of Sirius’ favourites among the pile and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably. 

As soon as the two look up and see your dishevelled form, your eyes pink and tearful, your bottom lip wobbling from restrained cries and your frame closed up like a frightened clam, the snacks are carelessly disregarded and they rush to your side. 

“Dove?” Remus calls, worry evident in his voice as he steals a glance at Sirius over your trembling shoulder. The response he was given — tight lips, drawn into a straight line and unreadable eyes — wasn’t enough, however and his chocolate pools hardened into brown stone. What. Did. You. Do?... Remus silently interrogated the tattooist.

“What happened, angel?” James immediately wraps his arms around you and you almost melt into his hold if it weren’t for your need to clarify everything dominating your thoughts. 

“Are you and Remus in a relationship with Sirius?” your hesitant voice, small and fraying at the edges, speaks up but barely above a whisper. The two men visibly stiffen beside you and you feel a well of tears quickly building up again; your thoughts immediately jumping to the worst possible outcome. 

“Tell her the truth. Give her peace of mind, lads,” Sirius speaks up, his own voice lacking its usual confidence and was reduced to a vulnerable softness. 

“Yes,” Remus affirms after a beat of silence. 

“We’re all consenting, we all love each other, mutually!” James pipes up, his tone bordering on defensive despite not knowing what he’s their relationship defending from, “You…you don’t think of us differently do you?”

“No! No no no! Of course not,” you quickly elucidate your thoughts, your shoulders relaxing as you turn and meet eyes with Sirius, mustering a small smile, “it’s actually quite a relief,”

Grinning softly, Sirius steps up to explain the situation, “Dollface over here thought that I was cheating on you and James with each other, Rem,” he chuckles softly, amusement in his eyes though it still lacked their full brightness, “she gave me a good shouting to and looked like she was ready to bite my head off if I didn’t ‘come clean’ to both of you,” Remus laughs and pulls Sirius into a sideways hug as James coos lovingly at you. 

“You got angry for us, angel?” James presses his face into your hair and nuzzles you affectionately, “you’re the sweetest~” he coos, his smirk growing as he feels an embarrassed heat radiating off your cheeks. 

“St-stop the James,” you whine with an awkward smile and wiggle yourself out of his arms, avoiding his pouting lips because you know your resolve will melt away at the sight. It was confirmed. They were in a relationship, all three of them, with each other. You should be happy that Sirius wasn’t a cheater and still the wonderful man you saw him to be. But, no matter how happy you were for them, the twisting of your stomach and the gaping hole in your heart wasn’t easily fixable. 

The following weeks, you maintained the friendship you had with the boys, who no longer felt the need to limit their intimate touches around you. However, whenever they tried to initiate affection with you, as per usual, once the innocent kiss on the temple and harmless hug was now fervently being rejected by you and pushed away. You had no intention of disrespecting their relationship, even if most acts of affection you exchanged as friends were innocuous. But, then again, it was also your way of protecting your already shattered heart. Yes, you could just stay away from them entirely but you had built such a strong friendship with them that it didn’t feel right to candidly pretend that you’ve never met them before. It’ll do more harm than the harm you were inflicting now…  

Ever the observant man that he was, Remus knew the instant reason behind your hesitation and was quick to reassure you the next time you were invited over for tea. 

“It’s really okay, sweetheart,” the tall brunette hums softly as James and Sirius agree from their own seats, “we’re okay with it and you aren’t going to come in between any of us, I promise you,”

Stubbornly, you shake your head, pulling a deep frown from all of them.

“Are you not comfortable with it?” James asks with uncertainty, his question and its potential implication is filled with enough dread to make even his two lovers stiffen up. 

You nod your head ‘yes’ and they slump in their rejection. It hurt to know that the revelation of their relationship had pushed you away when the basic nature of their affair meant more love for everyone. And they wanted it to include you��� Their romance that led to such an abundance of love and promises of more was now paradoxically pushing you away. For once, they didn’t know what to do, not a single one of them could come up with any idea to resolve the ever-growing tension in your relationship. It was a rubber band ready to snap. 

“If you’re uncomfortable then we’ll respect that and keep our distance, touch-wise” Remus surrenders despite the heartbreak it gives him while Sirius shoots up and sends him an irate glare, one that Remus coldly returns. It wasn’t a question of their comfortability but yours, Sirius needed to regard that to the highest degree and Remus was all too ready to make him face the music. They can’t afford to lose you and if it meant that he needed to make the hard decisions then so be it.

“Thank you,”

“...do you not want to be around us anymore?” James speaks up, not necessarily taking things to their extremes but rather potential, future escalations. He’s seen it. In the days and weeks that followed the divulgence of their true relationship, bit by bit you have begun to pull away from them to the point where James can vividly see where the escalation of your behaviour will lead and it’s frightening. One day, you’ll just disappear and that terrifies him. 

“No no…” your weak defence, lacking true resolve, ignites a shock of terrorising fear in all three of them, their eyes shaking with trepidation. But you couldn’t see it because you couldn’t look at them, like a coward. Because that’s what you are — a coward. The heartbreak was chipping away at you. You thought you would be brave enough to see them happy together but you couldn’t. Because, not only were you a coward, but you were selfish too. Green with envy, you stewed in that awful, stomach-twisting, heart-aching, bitter-tasting, gut-wrenching feeling each time you saw every loving kiss, affectionate cuddle and sweetly whispered words. 

Throughout your friendship you grew to love each of them as more than a simple friend. You know it was wrong but they were all so charming in their own, unique way. They treated you sincerely, cared for you without any sinister, ulterior motives and they’ve successfully wormed their way into your life and heart, permanently. 

What was once something that brought you such joy, warmth and feelings of safety was now mercilessly ripping you apart. 

Their dynamic looked different to you now that you were looking through a different lens. They weren’t just close friends anymore, they were very much in love and have been romantically involved for a few years now — it was one of the first things you found out about their relationship. Its longevity was a testament to their unwavering love for each other and here you were, secretly, selfishly and salaciously hoping for your own slice of the love pie.  

How dare you…

Just because you’ve had such bad luck with love didn’t mean you had the right to wish for something that couldn’t possibly become yours. You have no right to ask them for love when they are completely content with their own.  

“Please don’t push us away, dollface,” Sirius begs softly, his steel grey eyes melting into a pool of mercury. Beautiful but poisonous. Something you want but can’t have. 

“I’m sorry,” you’re breathless when you see the genuine fear in their eyes and turn away from the sight. This isn’t the time to turn weak at the knees, “it’s getting pretty late, I should go,” shouldering your bag, you get up and rush to leave their flat. 

“Stay,” Remus half commands and half begs, almost stopping you in your tracks, “please stay… we need to talk to you about something important,” if there was any time for them to reveal the truth, it was now. Before they lose you, before they drown themselves in regret, before they fall into a pit of despair, before they—

“I’m sorry…” you repeat and, just as James feared, you disappear. 

A/N : this took such a long while to write but i wanted it to be perfect, thank you so much for requesting this darling @thepunisherfrankcastle it fit perfectly into the plot although i did make some slight altercations to your request. unfortunately, there's still more to go after this so i'm going to have to leave you darlings with a cliffhanger, look out for part 5! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

→ NEXT. : 05 | DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS M.LIST

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @ghostgardn @mess-is-my-aesthetic @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic TAGLIST CLOSED

[gojhoes]

gojo x fem!reader, established relationship, soft serve vanilla morning sex, slight dom gojo, p-in-v backshots, unprotected sex, characters in their late 20s, yummy dick print, big hands big dick, im feral nsfw, mdni

satoru is always so sensitive in the morning. even the slightest stimulation makes his already hard dick twitch with a wave of pleasure.

he glances over at your sleeping frame, eyes trailing along the shape of your waist and hips through those tiny lounge shorts. there’s just something about the soft fabric that always makes him want to nudge his cock into your ass, grinding softly just to take the edge off.

and so he does. he shifts under the covers, sliding closer to you to rid of any space that might keep you away from him. his arm snakes around your middle, putting just enough pressure to firmly press his hips into yours.

you stir, humming softly and making those cute little sleepy sounds. it’s so amusing because you look so innocent, yet satoru knows very well that you’re just as weak to desire as he is. from the way you gently wiggle your hips to “get more comfortable” to the warmth of your skin against his bare chest, it’s all but obvious.

satoru nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, placing soft, slow kisses over your shoulder. you let out a sigh, bringing your hand to the back of his head to gently card through soft white locks. you’re both too sleepy to speak, preferring to let your tired bodies respond to one another unconsciously.

he tilts his head so that he can bring his lips just below your jawline, sucking gently on the delicate skin over your pulse point. your grip tightens on his scalp– a signal that you want more. he catches the skin between his teeth as he sucks harder, soothing to site with a swipe of his tongue. he untangles the arm holding you close, instead slipping his hand under your tank top to hold your warm breast.

satoru doesn’t even have to say anything to get you to roll over onto your knees and bury your face into the pillow. he rises up onto his own, placing his hands on either of your hips and squeezing. his cock is aching, yearning so desperately to stretch out your warm pussy that a wet patch starts to form on his boxers.

while he rids himself of the fabric, freeing his cock from its confines. the air cools the hot, sensitive skin, his wet slit shining in the early morning light. while satoru slides your shorts down, using two fingers to spread you open and run them along your holes, you reach over to retrieve your vibrator from the side table. he’s barely got himself lined up with your cunt, which is dripping from just the littlest bit of his teasing, before you click the button twice.

both of you let out strained moans, sighing heavily when he finally slides into you, feeding inch by inch until his length is sucked all the way in. the soft buzzing reverberates through your pussy, only helping to make him twitch violently when each wave of pleasure makes your cunt flutter rhythmically around his dick. when it’s like this, it never takes long for either of you to cum. it’s not that satoru ever minds slowing down to help you feel good– but it is so much better when he doesn’t have to.

you’re already so close when he’s just started to fuck you proper, pulling his hips away only to slam back in with force that has your thighs trembling. you’re being so selfish with that vibrator of yours, trying to create your own rhythm on his cock and use him. satoru’s hands fly to your hips to hold you still, squeezing the bones tight as if to warn you to obey his lead. he started this, you gave in, and you’ll finish because of him.

satoru positions his hips as his pace reaches a steady speed, knowing this angle always pushes his tip into your sweet spot. it’s a combination of thrusts and pulling you into him by the waist, a perfect combination.

“it doesn’t have to be that hard,” you told him. “just consistent.”

and satoru smiled at that– you were so shameless even with blushing cheeks. “that’ll make you cum, hm?”

“mmm, i’m close,” you say, voice quiet and thick with drowsiness. the vibrator gets louder and so does your breathing, small moans beginning to fill the room. “–do just like that.”

you’re so wet– satoru looks down to see a white ring painted around the base of his shaft that sends a pang of satisfaction through the haze of his pleasure. he silently wishes he’d eaten you out first… such a waste of pretty slick; the thought makes his mouth water, and he vows not to deprive himself the next time.

it’s too much; the soft vibrations, your strained moans which only grow in volume and desperation, the sensitivity he’s been fighting to resist since the moment he woke up. your pussy quivers and flutters around him as you finally come undone, whimpering while he pounds into you through your orgasm.

“fuck, oh fuck-” his balls are so tight, he’s been leaking into you this whole time, it’s too much, you’re so wet and tight. you push your hips back into him, hard and fast, helping him keep pace until finally, finally, a groan escapes his lips and his eyes squeeze shut, and he empties every drop of cum inside your pussy, his cock twitching rhythmically.

the sound of matching breaths fills the room, smelling of cum and your body lotion as satoru rests his head on your back. it’s always so much better in the morning.

[kaiserposting]

Michael Kaiser — Liebevoll

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1k TYPE: Humor, Established relationship, some fluff WARNING(S): Kaiser is a cringe loser, my bad german makes a comeback (I was always on that damn phone in german class)

Since you’ve been trying to learn German (you gave some stupid excuse about how you ‘want to know what shit he talks about you when he thinks you don’t understand him’), a golden opportunity to mess with you has appeared in front of Kaiser.

Obviously being that your brainwaves aren’t completely inactive, you knew not to ask him and instead try a language app first because he’s not to be trusted.

Not possible on Kaiser’s watch, though. Nuh uh. What do you need an app for when you have a boyfriend who’s perfectly capable of lying to you for his amusement?

Your phone was dealt with (snatched and tucked in Kaiser’s back pocket, where you’d rather wretch than reach) three exercises in… So you’re still about as clueless as in the beginning. Now, Kaiser is subjecting you to his ‘tutoring’.

“When someone holds the door for you, you bow and say ‘Ich hoffe, du wirst von einem Auto angefahren.’ It means thank you, by the way.”

“Uh, that’s too long to mean thank you.” You look at him like he’s forcing you to say tongue twisters, suspicion clear in your expression.

Kaiser finds your wariness and lack of understanding really cute, mainly because he’s a condescending asshole. He reaches out to try and move your mouth as if that’ll somehow assist you in pronouncing it, but you pry his fingers away from your face before he can reach. It makes him snicker.

After a few tries, you get through that one. Then Kaiser forces you through the ordeal of sounding out that string of bullshit multiple times ‘just to make sure you really memorized it’.

Next, Kaiser says, “When you want the tab at a restaurant, you should say, ‘Kannst du auf meinen Teller scheißen?’”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Why do you think you know more than me? It’s my first language.” He smiles at you in a wannabe suave manner.

Reluctantly, you repeat it back to him, more than once.

His gaslighting is almost becoming convincing with his insistence on you retaining this information as if you’re actually gaining knowledge here.

But you decide to take everything with a grain of salt, anyway, no matter how compelling Kaiser’s acting may be. You’ll try to search these up later. At least if you can manage to spell them based on what you heard.

The nonsense continues on like this:

“When a guy compliments you, you should reply with ‘Sag das noch einmal, damit ich dich ausweiden kann.’ It means thank you veeeeeeery much, by the way.”

“Does everything mean thank you according to you?!”

“Aww, that’s a really cute grumpy face you’re making.”

“Don’t dodge the question.”

Kaiser stares at you expectantly, scooting closer towards you and leaning in, his face inching closer towards yours. Disturbed (not swayed or affected at all, might you add!), you decide to comply.

He wonders what other stupid shit he should make you say. Even for a joyless and miserable person like Kaiser, it’s kinda difficult to stifle his laughter. Of course, someone as delusional as him would find entertainment in his own antics, but he’s doing a good job on not letting it show.

“After paying at the supermarket, you tell the cashier ‘Es gibt eine Leiche im Pausenraum’ and walk off immediately. It’s a social norm.”

What a shameless liar. You’re curious about what he’s making you say though, since he’s still not reacting when you repeat it back to him during this whole farce. The mischievous rat’s game is on point.

You continue to go along with it, though, since your intrigue is also making you want to learn them all so you can actually look them up after all this. In fact, you drop asking him about it regardless, pretending as if you let down your guard and believe him now.

This leads Kaiser to being more comfortable, testing the waters in a different direction, assuming you won’t think anything of it.

“You should greet me in German every time you see me as practice,” he says. “With something like ‘Du bist sehr schön.’”

Kaiser thinks he’ll think it funny because you rarely compliment him, but he finds himself liking it a little once you repeat it to him. Then he makes you say it again and again, aiming less to deceive you into thinking he’s dedicated to your linguistic education and more so for his satisfaction.

But Kaiser ignores this strange happiness. He tricked you into saying it, so it’s whatever. Doesn’t mean anything. In fact, he’d be a stupid microbe to dwell on it.

Once he strays down that part, though, it keeps escalating.

“Mit dir ist alles besser." - That’s probably the opposite of how you feel, so Kaiser finds some kind of humor in it conceptually. Then hearing is too much to his liking again.

“In deinen Armen fühle ich mich geborgen." - You’d never think something like that, god forbid you utter it out loud… What’s wrong with him? It’s supposed to be comedic. He’s pranking you! Punking you. You’re a gullible idiot!!! He like, got you so good or whatever.

"Du machst mich glücklich.”

When you parrot that one back to him with more ease, since it’s more on the simple side, Kaiser stares into your eyes with a kind of seriousness you find disconcerting. You expect him to demand you say it again so he can be sure you remember it, though the frequency of this request died down more and more with each phrase you spoke.

The silence stretches. You continue to gaze at each other with an almost bizarre confusion between you two.

Is he making you say things he yearns to hear deep down? Or is he finding an excuse to tell you things he’s reluctant to admit? Both options are pathetic and beneath him. And he also really can’t tell which one it is, either.

“Can you say it again?” asks Kaiser, more tender in tone.

“Du machst mich glücklich?”

You’re not a very affectionate couple. It’s to your surprise that Kaiser wraps his arms around you with tentativeness, like he’s skirting around something, then presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. Despite your puzzlement, you return the embrace, pulling him closer.

Now you’ve got to find out what it was to warrant all that from him for sure. Guess you’ll be utilizing speech to text later…

Ich hoffe, du wirst von einem Auto angefahren = I hope you get ran over by a car Kannst du auf meinen Teller scheißen? = Can you take a shit on my plate? Sag das noch einmal, damit ich dich ausweiden kann = Say that again so I can disembowel you Es gibt eine Leiche im Pausenraum = There’s a dead body in the break room Du bist sehr schön = You’re very beautiful Mit dir ist alles besser = Everything’s better with you In deinen Armen fühle ich mich geborgen = I feel safe in your arms Du machst mich glücklich = You make me happy I was writing a WIP with a premise I've never done before, but it got difficult to write whihc annoyed me, so I wrote this which is something that ive quite literally done before instead #StayStagnant

[fanaticsnail]

Shameless 3/3

Masterlist here. Part 1, Part 2

Word Count: 5,500+

Synopsis: You have a type, one that has been forcefully revealed by your crewmen's incessant nagging. Ushered throughout the halls of the Polar Tang, you finally get to experience the raw, concentrated power of what succumbing to that type truly means.

Themes: Eustass Kid x afab!reader, p in v sex, eating, gushing, writhing, begging. Dom!kid x switch!reader, no gendered terms used, smut, nsfw, mdni, 18+ content warning, swearing, creampie, Platonic!Law x Crew!reader, "sunshine" used as a term of endearment, reader is a brat, Kid is obsessed.

Notes: And it's here! Third and final part to the series that was meant to be a one-shot because it was my first time writing for Eustass Kid. Thank you to @sordidmusings for being a saint and listening to me be very unhinged while I talk about this fic. Art link.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff @sexc-snail

The grip of Eustass Kid’s right hand never left your hip. Ushering you throughout the halls of the Polar Tang to where he assumed your crew quarters were located. His face held an unreadable emotion you attempted to decipher with your mischievous gaze. 

His lips were knit into a thin line, tugging at the corners into a gruff grimace. His brows lowering their furrow against his forehead with his eyes wild with narrowed pupils. The smaller quiver in his top lip revealed his snarled emotion further to you, a soft rumble igniting within his chest. 

Cheeks tinted pink with ignited resolve and passion, he was glowing with growing vibrant frustration. Too proud to indicate he may be in need of assistance to find your room, you chose to bite your lip to stifle the rise of your smile further as you watched him fumble down the hallway. 

All that giddiness and prior longing for one another, all the passion and grinding against each other’s most sensitive areas, came to an abrupt halt by your captain by calling to you over the shipwide speakers. That lust for one another remained all through the commemorative meal, Kid perpetually holding his eyes on your body as he sunk his teeth into fresh meat. He tore his teeth into the flesh of the steak, all the while picturing what your body tasted like beneath your boiler's uniform. 

Noticing a small stagger in Kid’s steps, halting his strides as the corridor split into a narrow ‘T’ shape. Drawing your eyes up to the metal panel in front of you, you felt the grip of Kid’s arm tighten around your waist. 

You didn’t want to ask him if he needed help, refusing to utter a single word to the broody, aggressive man beside you. In fact, it was fun to watch him get angrier and angrier within his own frustration. You deduced: the angrier he got, the more likely he was going to channel that fury with reaching your joint ecstasy within the arms of one another. 

“You’re really gonna stand there in silence?” he growled in a low rumble, “Not gonna give me any guidance in finding your damn crew cot to fuck you in?” You attempted to stifle your rising smile by clamping your teeth down on your lower lip. 

“Nope,” you popped your lips on the ‘p,’ noticing this seemed to aggravate him further. In one swift movement: he lifted you up with his flesh hand, caging you beneath the metallic forearm of his artificial limb across your chest. He held your body firmly against the steel of the cool wall, bringing his agitated expression closer to your amused grin. 

“Just wanna see me get all frustrated, huh?” he spat, his aggressive agitation showcased within the vibrant hues of his auburn eyes, “Wanna see how far you can bend me before I snap?” 

All you could do was shudder out a whimper of lustful breath beneath the cool metal arm, a smirk drawing up to your lips as you avoided his intense stare by looking down at his exposed pectorals.

In response, he pushed his metal forearm firmer against your chest, the magnetic object caging your shoulders against the wall alongside the top of your breastbone. The discomfort you felt beneath his artificial limb elevated your anticipation and excitement for him more. 

“Answer me,” he growled, shoving you further against the wall, “You had so many words earlier. Where are they now, huh?” You drew your eyes up to his, half-lidded and full of adoration for the frustrated tinkerer-captain. As your softened eyes met with his, he was flabbergasted at your unwithheld adoration for him. 

“You don’t seem like the type to require help,” you whispered, drawing up your hand do brush your fingers against his jaw, “So I won’t help you...” you pressed your chest against his metal arm to test its strength and hissed out a further declaration, “...Unless you ask me, very nicely, to offer you my assistance.”

Kid bore his eyes into yours, his brow furrowing deeper on his forehead as you looked up through half-hooded lashes. Floating your eyes between his, you goaded him with your playful expression: daring him to ask you for aid. After several moments of careful contemplation, he finally spat out his venomous words. 

“Fine,” his eyes darkened, a furious twinkle engaged within his blown pupils. Where you expected him to cave, ask you begrudgingly which direction to be led in, he shocked you by his flesh hand reaching up to your chest, and prying open your boiler suit with a skillful tear in the front of the fabric, “You leave me with no choice but to fuck you in the hallway.” 

You squealed as he skillfully removed your sleeves from your arms with his right hand, forcing his hips to staple yours against the reflective surface behind you. His broad hand drew itself up to cup your left hip, grinding his half-hard cock against your needy core. You sighed blissfully as he began to rut against your body, your eyes fluttering shut against the feeling. 

He tore through the fabric of your top binding, exposing your chest and puckered nipples publicly in a single swipe. You mewled as he pinched, licked and sucked at your exposed chest; your body wriggling and grinding against his core. 

“You truly have no shame, do you?” He growled, his lips finding your jaw as he pressed himself harder against you. You relished in the feeling of his warm lips caressing your skin in open kisses, his saliva dampening your pores with each messy parting of his lips upon you. 

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered through your unrestrained moan in response, opening your eyes to gaze into his own once more. When his eyes met yours, his lust was demonstrated in the soft flutter of his lashes, his pupils dilated into large circles and his painted lips parted in a shocked oval. 

You rocked your hips against his, the tight peak in his patterned pants raking over your rapidly dampening heat. He tore away more of your uniform, revealing more glimpses of your exposed flesh to his needy hands and greedy eyes. As you began to move your lips to expel your desires, a voice called above your expressions of wanton need. 

“Well, I'm ashamed of both of you,” your Captain’s bored and lazy tone spat with a soft grimace, “Couldn't even wait to get into crew quarters, Tinkerers?”

A joint shriek of shock expelled itself from your throats as your eyes snapped over to the darkened silhouette of Trafalgar Law. 

Your captain excused himself from the meal between the main course and dessert, claiming the excuse he needed to retrieve something from his office. What he was truly doing was checking in to see if you were alright with the attention you were receiving from Eustass Kid. He knew you were tough, and that you had a type, but he wanted to ensure the safety of his tinkerer. 

“Captain-!” you began, your voice drowning beneath the surprised grunt of Kid’s exclaim, “-Traffy!” Kid’s body hovered over yours, shielding the exposure of your chest from the eyes of your Captain. You almost pouted out a softened hum of awe at the larger man's valiance, but your attention remained captivated by Law's disapproving expression. 

As you both began to utter your verbalised defenses, you witnessed Captain Law’s smirk grow all the broader: feral and cryptid. Your eyes widened, watching as he raised his hand upwards, his fingers splayed out in hyper focussed concentration. 

“Unfortunately for the both of you, I refuse to allow such lewd acts performed in my hallways - no matter who is performing them,” he uttered in a low growl, prompting a blush to rise against your cheeks. 

Before a further explaination could be uttered in your defense, Law hastily spoke over your rising voice with two key words of his own. 

“Room,” he smirked, eyes darkening as you and Kid both felt at the mercy of your Captain demonstrating his raw power with his devil-fruit ability, “Shambles.”

Your surroundings went dark around you, your body feeling helpless within the trap of Law's displacement. Although you had experienced this method of transportation prior, the disassociation and frazzle of the world around, fading in and out, remained a difficult concept to comprehend and adjust to. 

Switching positions with two flecks of dust within your crew quarters by the will of your Captain, had your body falling unceremoniously atop Kid’s on the metal floor beneath you with a firm thud. A grunt at the contact alongside a huffed breath from your companion prompted a laugh to began simmering within your chest. 

“Well, well, well,” you managed to giggle out through your teetered laughter, “Looks like you didn't have to ask me nicely, after all.”

Kid huffed out a disapproving gruff growl, shifting your body away to take in the full view of your face above him. Although the crew quarters were lit by the hum of electrical lamplight, he strained to make out the outlines of your face in this switched position. 

Before he could adjust to exactly what was happening within the room, he was surprised at the shift of weight above him sliding down his body. As he moved his dizzying head to focus on your actions, he was surprised to hear a jingle of metal and the loosening of his pants. 

He snapped his eyes to witness the swirl of your tongue claiming the chorded strands of his pants within your mouth, skillfully tugging at the belt with your teeth to expose his briefs beneath. He sucked in his shock, hastily propping himself up on his elbows to get a more in depth look at your features. 

“F-Fuck,” he groaned, eyes unable to break his eyes away from watching you take apart his pants, “Y-You’re actually doing it with your teeth.” He whispered, reaching his right hand down to rake his fingers through your hair. You smiled, tugging one final harsh bite at his zippered fly to expel his clothed member beneath the parted split of his pants. 

“I would never mislead you,” you reassured him with a huffed chuckle, watching the small twitch of his rapidly expanding cock. The subtle damp patch of precum against the soft material of his briefs, “I despise those who go back on their word.”

With another small string of curses, Kid released your hair within his palm and lulled his head back on his shoulders as you circled your grip around his clothed shaft. Tugging it firmly beneath the material, his heavy balls began to fall beneath the elastic hem of his leg holes. 

You shifted your hands along his veiny cock. The outline of his perfect, mushroomed tip dipped in a divet within the strain against the material of the cotton fabric. His leg began to twitch as you straddled his thigh and teased the waistband of his briefs with the brush of your unoccupied fingertips. 

Reaching into his pants, you claimed his cock within your palm and attempted to circle your digits around it: the large girth having your fingertips barely brush together in their circumference. Flicking your thumb over the tip had a moan stifled within Kid’s lips. Huffing at the friction, he drew his head up to glance at you through half-hooded lashes. 

Brows knit in focus, your jaw hung ever slightly slack as you focussed on pistoning Kid’s impressive cock within your grip. The look of awe on your features as you exposed his member by flipping his waistband down had Kid’s ego swelling with pride. He smiled as you but back a moan of your own, taking in the full view of his incredibly large cock. 

“It's not going to fit,” you gasped, eyes glazed in a hypotonic, lustful trance. Kid smirked at your comment, panting at the attention you were paying to his sensitive knob and frenulum with your thumb. 

In one swell movement, he hastily flipped your positions and caged you beneath him. Your chest was fully exposed, your uniform hanging limply on your hips as his right hand dove beneath the waist of your undergarments. 

“It'll fit,” he moaned, his lips finding your clavicle bone, containing a perfect ovular circle he bit into earlier, and pressed his lips roughly against it, “Just gotta warm ya’ up first.”

He sought out your heat with his fingers, feeling the arousal he'd already caused earlier by his lips, teeth and grinding hips. His two middle fingers slotted between your walls, feeling the coat of slick over his knuckles as he spread your essence over your needy hole. 

Before he sunk his fingers into your core, he retreated back upwards to your awaiting, quivering clit. As his warm fingers began tracing delicate circles against your aching bud, he claimed your lips beneath his own. 

Your hands shot to his hair, grasping the red strands within your fingertips. Angling your chin up, you needily licked Kid's lips while whining at his ministrations. Everything was too little and too much all at once, your craving for him outweighing the need for him to make you ready to take his impressive size. 

Moans were caught within his painted lips, his own empathetic moans at your joy spread from his mouth into yours. As he swirled his digits expertly around your clit, he forced his tongue within your mouth to brush against yours. Sliding the muscle throughout your mouth, you arched your back as he continued using his hands and lips to bring you pleasure. 

Seeking out his cock, your hand grasped at every surface of his large muscles and skin on your journey downwards. Just before you managed to wrap your hand around the swollen head of his cock again, Eustass Kid’s metal hand shot down and claimed your wrist within his iron grip and pinned both hands above your head. 

Breaking his lips from yours, his fiendish smile grew wide. His teeth playfully bit your bottom lip as a wordless reprimand for your actions. You whined, your hands attempting to wriggle free from his iron grip to seek out his cock once more. 

“Not gonna let you touch me ‘til I make you cum at least once,” he laughed at you, slowly rolling circles around your needy bud. You arched your back and mewled for him as he raked his fingers down to your hole, then back up to your clit in skillful motions. 

“I let you take the lead while your Captain’s stupid devil fruit power made me dizzy,” he slunk down your torso, ripping your legs out of your pants with one swift swipe with his metal hand, “But now that my head's all clear, I'm gonna make you cum so fucking hard, Sunshine.”

You were now completely exposed to him, your naked body lying vulnerable beneath his almost fully-clothed body. Only his cock was exposed to you; the rest of his larger form remained shrouded by his cloak, buckled holsters and pants. 

“P-please,” you whined for him, panting as he pinned your writhing hips to the floor beneath his forearm. He chuckled, hooking your knees over his shoulders and bringing your glistening core up to his face after releasing your hands from his metal arm.  

“Quit ya’ squirming,” he growled, leaning his face down against your needy heat, “I know how you feel about goin’ back on your word.” He tested your reactions with a small flick of his tongue against your clit, laughing when you arch your back in reaction, “Wouldn't want you to despise me, now, do I?”

“Captain,” you gasped, feeling his breath cooling against your sticky walls as he hovered his lips over your oozing essence. He chuckled further, forcing your legs apart as he took in the sight of your arousal. His jaw shuddered at the sight, eyelashes fluttering as his smile rose up on his face. 

“I would never mislead you,” he mocked your earlier sentiment, prompting you to scowl at his taunting expression. Just as soon as your scowl appeared, it fled just as hastily from your face as he dove head-first into your heat. 

Kid's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he sampled your sweet essence, rolling his tongue over your aching clit in slow, deliberate circles. You bit your lip to stifle your keening mewls, prompting Kid to groan into your glistening sex. 

“So cute,” he commented, bobbing his head as he swiped his tongue up and down, spreading your juices around your entrance and clit, “So fuckin’ cute.” 

Nodding against your heat, he became drunk with lust as you attempted to grind further against his face. He used his nose to add pressure to your clit as he dipped his tongue into your neglected entrance. Swirling his tongue, he lapped at your juices straight from the source, with grunts of praise growling from his messy lips coated in your sweet nectar. 

The coil in your stomach bound itself tight within the pit of your abdomen. You huffed into your wrist, clamping your eyes tightly shut as you had no choice but to take the tongue lashing Kid was forcing into your body. 

Your thighs began to shake as you strained against his extremely large hands, once again becoming aware of how big he was. At the mercy of the man above you, you began gushing into his mouth as the first wave of your erupting orgasm coursed through you.

“O-Oh fuck yes, that's it,” Kid's muffled voice praised you between your legs, “Cum on my face. C’mon, wanna feel it.”

“F-Fuck, Captain,” you cried out for him, tears beginning to well from the intensity in which you rode through the waves of your encumbering high. 

Attempting to writhe and wriggle out of his grip, he held you firmly in place and bullied your cunt with his face further. He dove in deeper, torturing your core with his tongue and lips as he continued to messily lap at your juices. 

“Nuh uh,” he chastised you, prompting you to sob at the overstimulation, “You're gonna take it. Go on, Sunshine. Cum for me again,” he chuckled into your tingling entrance when you screamed at the feeling of his tongue needily and aggressively lapping at you, “I know you can.”

Panic wrote itself on your face, you're cheeks running hot as your blood turned cold. Feeling the firm press of his hands against your hips, you truly felt helpless beneath the hulking figure of Eustass Kid.  He was going to hold you down and make you cum again, and you were going to have to take it. 

“This is whatcha get for being a brat earlier,” Kid leant his face away as he messily spat against your hole. Diving down immediately after, he lapped at your oversensitive heat and held your body completely at his mercy, “This is what me snapping looks like, Sunshine. Fucking take it.”

You whimpered, reaching your hands down and grabbing fistfuls of his hair within your hands. Attempting to tug his face away from you, he doubled down his efforts and elevated your hips with his strong and firm grip. He thrust your body backwards and forwards, grinding your sensitive cunt against his face as you felt him chase another of your intense highs. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh F-fuck,” you screamed, gushing your juices over his chin as another gushing orgasm snuck up on you. This was not as intense as the first one prior, but it stole the breath from your lungs and took the wind out of your sails. 

“There ya’ go,” he chuckled, grinding your hips against his face, “Fuck yes, cum in my face again.” 

He slowed down the intensity of his grinding, remaining in tempo of the rhythmic twitches of your orgasm beckoning him in with hypnotic pulses. Floating back down from your high, you collapsed onto the cool ground beneath you. 

You felt him come away from your body, fully expecting the larger man to immediately pummel his large cock into you and wincing in anticipation. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you looked down to notice Kid had raisen to his knees and removed his weighty cloak and straps from his torso. 

He smirked down at you, watching as you took in his body with your fucked-out, glazed-over expression. He tugged at the waistband of his underwear, moving the rest of his clothes down over his hips to free his balls and his legs. 

“Waitin’ ‘til you catch your breath,” Kid whispered affectionately while casting his boots, socks and pants aside, “I'm cruel, but I'm not that cruel.” 

In truth, Kid felt the approach of a premature untouched orgasm swelling in his abdomen the moment your cunt pressed against his face. It had been so long since he had taken a lover, especially one as enthusiastic as you were at the very notion of a sliver of his attention. 

You teased him earlier in the day with your unbridled lust, intrigued him with your devotion to your tinkering assignment, and had him completely smitten with your complete and utter shamelessness.

He was so completely riled up, he refused to be embarrassed by how quickly he was going to cum from the moment your cunt touched his twitching, engorged cock. He wanted to take his time, enjoy your company for as long as you were willing to share it with him. 

As your heartbeat slowed to a more forgiving pace, you beckoned him with your coaxing hands and pleading eyes. Smiling down at you, he hovered over your face and pressed needy and passionate kisses against your jaw with his lips and tongue. 

His red, fat tongue slithered against your chin, prompting you to turn your head and claim the organ into your parted lips. As soon as your mouth brushed with his, you felt the tip of his cock tap against your over prepared and glistening hole. You moaned against his lips as his tip began to split you apart, your walls moving in a wide stretch to accommodate his impressive girth. 

“I-It’s too big,” you winced against his lips, “Too big!” You cried out as he soothed you by pressing gentle kisses against your cheeks, lips, temple, chin and jaw. 

“Y-You can t-take it,” he huffed, wincing at how tight your cunt was choking him, strangling him with your smaller core, “Just-... hah, fuck-... Just relax around it. You can do that for me, can't you? Relax and let me i-in.” His shiny tip pushed deeper into your cunt, his shaft twitching as he felt your fluttering walls adjust to accommodate him. 

You winced your brows up, breathing deeply as he caged your smaller body beneath him. Huffing out several strangled breaths, he fully slotted his shaft into you. Tufts of his red pubic hair ground coarsely against your swollen clit, a cry spilling from your lips the welcome he received as his cock encased itself within your warm, puffy sheath. 

“Fuck, you're so-... ngmmh-... so fucking tight,” he bit your shoulder as he buried his head within the crook of your neck. At every quiver your glistening core fluttered around him, he felt his orgasm rapidly approaching. 

“You're so fucking big,” you praised him with a hushed, needy whisper; mewling as he began to make shallow movements, pistoning his cock while remaining deep within your cunt. 

You felt yourself relax around him, the rocking of his hips enabled you to adjust quickly to his length and girth. You circled your arms around his shoulders, cradling his head against your shoulder as you felt him begin to pant. A flash of lightning hit your body as your lust hit you with its stricken intensity. 

“C'mon, big boy,” you cooed down at him with new motivation, “I know you can fuck me harder than that.” Kid snapped his head up, his eyes feral as he gawked at you. 

“You want me to fuck you harder?” Kid asked, a pink flush tinting his face as deep a scarlet as his vibrant hair. You laughed, your abdomen constricting his cock within you as you did. 

“Did I stutter?” You teased him, clawing at his shoulders before capturing his cheeks within the heels of your palms, “Harder.” Eustass Kid, who was not accustomed to be on the receiving end of orders, immediately began slamming his hips against yours in rough claps. You shrieked in joy, gyrating to match his quickening pace. 

The wet slaps of your cunt taking Kid's cock reverberated with your mutual moans throughout the crew quarters. You huffed out strangled pants as you ground your hips upwards to meet with his heavy-handed thrusts. His biceps twitched with every hard thrust against you, leaning up on his flesh and metal arms to get a glimpse of his cock disappearing within your gummy walls.

Cocking your head to the side, you noticed his brows were knit in focus, his mind still holding his body back from being too rough with you. You craved him letting go, the craving prompting you to hook your legs over his hips and lock your ankles together behind his lower back.  

“Harder,” you coax him, “Go harder, Captain. I can't take it.” As a gesture, you tug at his shoulders and cradle his body against you. He fell against you, his arms caging you once again beneath him. 

“I'm gonna break your fucking hips if I fuck you any harder,” he huffed against your cheek. He continued his rough pace, the lewd slap of his balls on your puckered ass causing you to cry out for him. 

“I serve on a ship full of doctors,” you prompt him, pressing open kisses against his collar and rocking your hips to his rhythm, “I can take it. C'mon, Kid. Fuck me like you want to.”

Kid halted his movements, his eyes immediately snapping up to meet with your own. He was immediately challenged by your utter audaciousness, searching your eyes for any hesitation for him to simply take what he wanted from your body. 

“Like I want to?” His growl sent a shudder from youd chest down to your cunt, stil containing his entire length, “You want me to show you how I want to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, biting and nipping at his cheek, jaw and neck as a further coaxing for him to propel himself harder, firmer and deeper against you. 

He broke your arms away from his shoulders, his metal and flesh hands immediately moving to the backs of your thighs and pressing them firmly up into your stomach. You mewled in shock, feeling the new depth his cock reached at this angle hitting and brushing against more of your core you never thought possible. 

“You want me to fuck you with my full strength? Feel me so fucking deep in your stomach it borders on painful?” He growled, pressing his stomach against your thighs as he allowed his full weight to sink down into you, “You want your bones to fall on the brink of shattering as I fuck into you, using you for my own personal pleasure?” 

“Yes,” you confirmed a little louder than before, following his movement with the rapid bounce of your hips in rhythm with his rough thrusts. You bit back a cry as he picked up his pace, your lower abdomen feeling the pinch of his tip kissing your cervix. 

He hastily drew down his hands, prompting you to hook your arms behind your knees to keep you fully exposed to his rough thrusts. As you held your legs back, he forced his right hand onto the pit of your stomach, pushing on the tip of his angular cock brushing against the spongy curvature of your G-spot. 

“Feel that? That's-... fuck, hhah-... how fucking deep I am,” he panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic. You cried out muted sobs in desperation for him, feeling the approach of your third orgasm rapidly stampeding towards you. 

“Fuck you like I want to, Sunshine?” He growled, repeating your taunt back to you. His speed continuing to pick up as heavy thrusts as he pressed your thighs further into your chest, “Fuck you rough and deep enough to split you apart with my cock? Like I fucking want to?”

“Yes!” you cried out in confirmation, feeling the tight call of your orgasm begin to shake at your toes to your thighs, warmth spreading in your chest with the ignition of passionate convulsions. He groaned for you, panting as he felt the first twitches of his own approach pulsate through the base of his shaft, his balls sucked into the pit of his stomach and knob twitching deep within you. 

“Oh, fuck!” he barked, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he continued to pummel, bully, and bruise your cunt with his impressive, firm cock. He felt the first wave of your pussy beckoning him with your orgasm, his mind no longer his own as he gave into his primal urge to continue claiming you. 

“Fuck, Captain. I'm g-gonna-... f-fuck-... I'm gonna cum-,” you screamed, caged beneath his body as your walls began wringing circular pulses over his cock. Kid began to panic, overcome with the feeling of your pussy milking his shaft. 

“I c-can’t pull out, I can't pull out!” He begged and pleaded as his knob began to leak with the first spurts of unrestrained precum, “Too fucking good!”

“Cum in me, I need you!” you screamed in your haze, drunk on the feeling of this larger man splitting you open with his desperation. You bounced your cunt against him, matching the pace he set while riding through your all encumbering orgasm. 

“F-Fuck!” he roared, ribbons of white release splashing against your cervix and trickling down your thighs with your own juices gushing against him. Your beckoning thumps continued wringing Kid's cock with each pulse in unified bliss. 

Growls of strangled moans fled from Kid's lips as he claimed your mouth within his, deepening the angle he was slamming his hips down against your core and slowing his erratic pace. 

He released your thighs from his grip, choosing to thread his arms around your shoulders and elevate you to a sitting position, his cock still deeply sheathed within you. Rocking back onto his heels and calves, he continued pressing open and lustful kisses against your lips as the last few, teetered, aftershocks of his orgasm spent itself within you. 

Holding the back of your neck, he continued cradling you against himself. His kisses turned soft, sweet and almost loving, his lip paint now marking nearly all of your body with the scarlet hue. The subtle tang of your juices remained on his tongue as you welcomed more of him against your lips. 

As you motioned to break away from his lips to catch your breath, he needily held your neck firmly in place, continuing to pant through his kisses planted against your lips. He rotated his head, his lips entangling themselves sloppily against yours as you both finally fell back down to the harsh reality around you. 

“More,” he whimpered against you, still under the prior hypnotic spell your words and actions cast on him, “Need more.”

Smiling, you pressed several peppered kisses against his lips and face. He hummed through his nose, whining at how affectionate you were remaining to be after taking his aggravated and almost assaulting pace with his cock still inside you. You tested his still firm cock, rocking yourself on his lap which caused a choked whimper to flee from his throat. 

“How long are you staying with us, Captain?” you managed to ask him as soon as you broke away from his desperate lips. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hands moving down to circle around your shoulders and waist. 

“Couple more days,” he confessed in a whisper, his eyes glancing down at where your bodies remained still as one, “Then we leave to go on our separate ways again.” 

You both clamped your eyes shut, feeling your bodies unified together as his cock began to soften within your walls. You raised your hands to cradle his cheeks, pressing a few sweet kisses against his lips as he hung his head back within your arms. 

“And after a few days?” you whispered your question, pressing your forehead against his once more with your eyes remaining shut to conceal your emotions from him, “Then what?” 

You felt Kid's right thumb begin tracing circles against your hip, his arms sliding down to claim both sides of your body beneath his broad hands. 

“Then, Sunshine," he scoffed, playfully licking your chin with the sharpened tip of his tongue, "Every time I meet with your captain and your crew…” he teased you, tilting your face with a subtle jab of his chin to force your eyes to open, as he uttered his final confession to you. 

“... we're gonna make it everyone's problem.”

As soon as you met with his rust-colored eyes, you were once again consumed with lust for him. His enchanting smile, his scarred cheeks, his smudged face paint, his wicked grin: all bewitched you to the point where you would agree to everything he could ever pose to you.

"I'm looking forward to being shameless and embarrassing with my open adoration and lust for you, Captain," you confessed in a whispered breath. He laughed at you smoothing over your hair with his hand, smiling as he drew his face all the closer to yours.

"I'm looking forward to being the object of your shameless fucking lust, Sunshine," he uttered before he claimed your lips beneath his once more in a lengthy, sultry kiss, "Let's get cleaned up, go a couple more times," you squeaked in joy at the notion, prompting a huff of laughter to expel from Kid, "Then I'll carry you up there to enjoy dessert, just like I promised."

[thisismyhell]

Professor Hotchner (Part 1)

Author's Note: im shamelessly in love with this man, sue me. This is part 1 because i was getting tired and it was getting super long. part 2 soon tho :)

Summary: you are Hotch's former psych student and hes asked you to guest lecture. of course you say yes, and of course he loves to watch you take over the room.

Shameless flirting, age gap, older prof hotch and student reader, use of y/n, two idiots.

Words: 1.8K

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Coming back to campus to visit filled a void in your body. It took so much of your life to complete your Master’s, leaving the school and never returning was never in your plan. That being said, returning to the school for the purpose of being a guest lecturer was also not in your plan. 

Professor Hotchner had reached out to you and some other former students to come visit his freshman psychology class and provide some real world experience stories. It seemed that the students would only listen to his experience so much without asking personal questions he wasn’t prepared to answer. Before his classes finals, you were coming to guest lecture the students and fill in the blanks that his stoicism created. 

You arrived on campus just after lunch and knocked on Hotch’s office door, ready to see him for the first time in years. He was one of your favourite professors, if not the favourite. He was so smart and inquisitive, always encouraging you and the other students to ask as many questions as you wished, even staying extra hours to attend one-on-one sessions to make sure everyone understood the material well enough to confidently pass. 

Hotch opens the door, and you look up at his imposing eyes and witness how they soften when he recognizes you. He conceals a grin, but you notice and return the favour. “Y/n, I was hoping you would make it” he says through a tight lipped smile. “Of course, I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to try and impress my favourite professor again”. He bows his head to hide his blush, and you’re too in your own head to notice it. “Please y/n, you can call me Aaron. We’re equals now”. “We definitely are not, but I appreciate it, Aaron”. You put your hand out to shake his, and he gives in even though the motion is ridiculous. He’s humouring you, trying to make you feel less like a past student and more like a new colleague. Even though you are technically in the same field, he still feels the desire to almost protect you, regardless of the cases he knows you have worked at this point and the violence you have seen. 

“Let me show you to the lecture hall. I know you have a tight schedule and don’t want to waste your time”. He’s so gracious with you, understanding what it’s like to have the deadlines and commitments that you do now. He’s retired from the FBI and only serves as a professor now, but he remembers his sleepless nights and need for a go-bag. “You could neve waste my time, Aaron. I’m happy to be here and I have a clear schedule to be here”. He puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you down the hall. You can smell his cologne, the same scent you remember from his office hours. The hallway becomes crowded and you huddle closer to him to not lose direction, and he welcomes your presence against his large frame.

Once you arrive in his lecture hall, he helps you set up your laptop in order to guide your presentation, explaining he will click through the slides for you as you talk. You don’t need him to do this, and there is a remote that you could use yourself, but you like having him be a part of your presentation. If he could stand up beside you for an hour you would welcome it, but you don’t want to seem incompetent either. 

The class quickly enters the hall and takes their seats, proving to you that Hotch has maintained his drill sergeant tendencies unto his students. They all greatly respect him and you can tell. Once they have all sat down and opened their laptops, he stands up in front and they are all quiet, ready to listen and obey. “Class, today we have a guest as I mentioned last week. She is an accomplished profiler in the FBI who can hold her own in the field, and I am honoured to have her speak to you all today about her real world experience. I am also honoured to once have had her as a student, who once sat right in this room only a few years ago. Please give a warm welcome to Agent y/l/n, and give her the same respect that you give me”. 

The class applauds and you blush, smitten over your introduction. “Thank you Aaron, what a wonderful way to start my first guest speaking opportunity”. You go through your slides and tell some of your favourite stories from the field, and emphasise how hard you had to work to get to where you are now. You paid close attention to the women in the room, always taking precedence over their questions first. Hotch didn’t dare chime in unless directly asked, respecting your place as the lecturer for today. 

You enjoyed speaking to the students, and every once in a while you glanced over to where Hotch was sitting in the second row, appreciating you. His large frame looked even bigger in the small student seats, seeming even more imposing if that was possible. Once you opened the floor to questions you calmed down and let yourself relax more to come across as more human. That was something Hotch had taught you before. You were wearing a black pencil skirt with nylons and sensible pumps, matching the look with a black turtleneck that hugged your figure. Since you were the youngest in your department, you wanted to come off as more mature than you thought necessary so you could establish some dominance. This was also Hotch’s idea when he found out about your FBI interview. 

You were definitely getting in your own head, because you were starting to heat up. With Hotch’s eyes on you it was almost like he was the only person in the room that could see you, and he was taking advantage of his sight point. He could see all of you from the second row, and if you asked him, he could smell you from there too. Since he opened the door for you only a couple hours ago, he couldn’t get your perfume out of his head. It was making him dizzy having you so close but so far. He had great respect for you, you had always stood out amongst your peers. You always took advantage of his office hours, and more often than not he found himself feeling claustrophobic behind his desk with you looking at him the way you always did. 

He loved watching you take control of the room, his room. You spoke so eloquently and professionally, he felt so proud. He felt proud that he taught you, but he felt more proud that he knows you, and that you know him. If he was still at the FBI he would feel almost intimidated by you and the way you could handle yourself. You never needed help, but he knew he would get on his hands and knees to find your contact lens for you if you asked. And he would love it. 

By the end of the lecture you are starting to think Hotch is checking you out, but you can’t be sure. You’ve always had a crush on the man, how could you not? He respects you and he knows how smart you are. He doesn't feel threatened by a strong woman, and he even admitted when he was wrong about something to you. Hotch would never admit this, but on more than one occasion, he would explain something in a false manner so that you would correct him on it. He loved having you raise your hand in his class and call him out on a false statement, whether it was a definition or a fact from a previous case he worked. He wanted you to feel smart in every room you were in, because you are smart. He didn’t want your confidence to falter just because he was a man at the front of the room, he was egging you on to stand up for yourself and others. 

Sitting back and watching you run the place was getting him off and he wasn’t sure what to make of that. The time was up, and Hotch dismissed his students. They politely filed out of the room, but one boy was hanging back to ask you a question at the front. He made himself look busy so the student could have a conversation, but he was still listening. “Y/n, your lecture was just amazing. I know you work for the FBI, are you in town often?”. 

“I am, I actually live in the city and commute. It’s not that difficult when you have the resources. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I was just wondering because I know it can be stressful for a woman to travel so often. Does your boyfriend ever help you out? I just didn’t see a ring on your finger.”

Hotch grimaced, falling victim to this boy’s poor excuse at flirting with you. 

“No I don’t have a boyfriend, but I am more than capable of handling myself, thank you.”

“That’s a shame, you’re a very smart and beautiful woman. You know, I’m actually looking to join the FBI some time too, maybe you could help me out some time? Maybe over a drink you can tell me-”

You cut the boy off before he fumbles even harder, “listen, I really don’t think this is an appropriate conversation. You should probably go to your next class before you say something stupid”. 

The boy grimaces but leaves, taking your rejection. You turn around to Hotch to gather your things, but notice his face. “Something wrong, Aaron?”

“That was just very tough to watch. Sorry about that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, he was just a kid shooting his shot, no harm done.”

You hold your bag over your shoulder and Hotch comes closer to you, “okay good, I’d hate to feel bad for him”. 

You blush and go to leave, but you realize you have forgotten your phone. Looking around for it, Hotch realizes your mistake. “Y/n, I think you may have left it in my office. I’ll walk back with you and we can grab it before I call you a cab”. He wants to call you a cab? You’re hoping to make your visit last longer, so you walk a little slower next to him on the way to his office. He notices but doesn’t point it out, enjoying walking beside you. He’s also enjoying being seen with you, a beautiful young woman who excels in her field. A field he used to be in, and he knows you would be bossing him around by now if he was still in the FBI. He’s too busy thinking about you raising your voice at him that he doesn’t realize you’ve reached his office until you point it out. “Oh, sorry y/n. I must have zoned out. Keeps happening with age”. You grin at him, “don’t worry Aaron, your age doesn’t bother me”.

[gvnvks]

// zb1 boys wanting your attention / affection.

> pairings: non-idol!zb1 x fem-reader

> warnings: pet names, a lot of touch, lowercase intended, not proofread

> song recommendation: crazy by luminous (DRIVE ME CRAZY CRAZY OOH CRAZY CRAZY)

> a/n: i think im back but like fr now… thank yall for 500 followers!!

// 김 jiwoong.

seated at a corner table, you were engrossed in your work, laptop open, fingers dancing across the keyboard. lost in your world of words and ideas, you hardly noticed jiwoong, your ever-adoring boyfriend, quietly sipping his latte at the opposite side of the table.

he gazed at you with a warm, affectionate smile, his eyes sparkling like sunlight on a tranquil lake. with a playful twinkle, he began, “you know, ive always thought that if words were colors, the ones you type would paint the most beautiful masterpiece.”

you looked up, surprised by his poetic remark. a soft blush tinged your cheeks as you replied, “oh, come on. you're just saying that to distract me.”

jiwoong chuckled, his laughter like a soft melody. “maybe i am. but can you blame me? i can't resist stealing your attention away from those words for just a moment.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “you're shameless.” he leaned forward, his voice turning slightly serious. “i'm shamelessly in love with you.”

a delighted giggle escaped your lips. “flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

jiwoongs gaze turned thoughtful as he looked out of the window, his eyes fixed on the swaying branches of a nearby tree. “you know, watching the leaves dance in the wind reminds me of you. effortlessly beautiful and always moving forward.”

you leaned back, your heart fluttering at his words. “smooth talker.”

“im just speaking from the heart,” he said, his fingers tracing an imaginary path on the table. “and my heart tells me that i miss you even though you're right in front of me.”

your fingers paused over the keyboard, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “youre the one who chose to come with me to the café, remember?”

your boyfriend sighed dramatically, a hand on his chest. “ah, but my heart didn't get the memo. its been pining for your attention.”

with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you pushed your laptop aside. “alright, you win. what do you want, mr. heart-pining?”

he grinned, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “just a kiss to tide my heart over until youre done conquering the literary world.”

a delighted laugh bubbled up from your chest as you leaned across the table, meeting him halfway. your lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss that felt like a promise of forever.

as you pulled back, jiwoongs eyes held a mix of adoration and playfulness. “thank you for indulging my heart.”

“youre welcome,” you replied, your fingers now entwined with his. “but only because youre my favorite distraction.”

// 장 hao.

you stood by a large window, your voice weaving a gentle tapestry of words as you spoke to your mother over the phone. the room itself seemed to listen, its walls echoing with your laughter and the comforting words exchanged.

unbeknownst to you, hao watched from a distance, his heart swelling with affection for the beautiful scene before him. his tousled hair and sleepy eyes hinted at a man who had just risen from dreams, but his determination sparkled brighter than the morning sun. a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he plotted his charming disruption.

with a soft, silent step, your boyfriend closed the distance between you. his fingers brushed over the piano, and a soft melody trickled into the air, a backdrop for his silent advance. your voice continued to flow, but his eyes met yours, a playful gleam dancing within them. as his fingers reached you, they brushed against your arm in a featherlight touch.

your startled laughter bubbled through the phone, a melody that blended with the piano's notes. “mom, i think there's a tickle monster on the loose!” you teased, glancing toward hao. he chuckled, his fingers stilling on the keys.

“im innocent, i swear,” he chimed, his voice a gentle harmony to the symphony of the morning.

your mothers laughter resonated through the phone, a distant yet warm presence. “well, it sounds like you two are having a wonderful morning.”

haos fingers now traced patterns along your forearm, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. “speaking of wonderful mornings, i think this one could be even more wonderful if someone would spare a moment for her boyfriend.”

you rolled your eyes in playful exasperation. “hao, youre not going to give up, are you?”

his gaze held yours, his eyes twinkling. “never, especially not when it comes to winning your affection.”

a soft sigh escaped you, one that carried the depth of your fondness. “mom, ive got a persistent charmer here who wont let me concentrate.”

her laughter flowed through the line, a soft caress. “well, dear, enjoy these moments. love like that is a treasure.”

your boyfriends fingers found their way to your cheeks, his touch warm against your skin. “see, even your mom agrees. now, how about a kiss?”

you glanced at him, feigning resistance. “oh, fine. but only if you promise to behave afterward.”

his eyes danced with playful mischief as his lips met yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. “deal,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a whispered promise.

// 성 hanbin.

a gentle hum of laughter and conversations filled the air as you and your friends sat around the table, immersed in your chatter. the table was adorned with a bouquet of vibrant wildflowers, their colors echoing the joyous atmosphere.

hanbin leaned back comfortably in his chair, a playful glint in his eyes. hed been trying to catch your attention all evening, but you were engrossed in your friends' anecdotes.

as one of your friends animatedly recounted a hilarious work story, hanbin softly cleared his throat from beside you. you glanced at him, and he flashed you an endearing smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“you know,” he began casually, “i heard they have the most amazing desserts here. maybe we should order something sweet to share?”

you nodded in agreement, and your attention returned to your friends. your boyfriends hand found its way to the back of your chair, his fingers gently grazing your shoulder, sending a tingling sensation down your spine. he leaned in a little closer, his voice a hushed whisper only you could hear.

“i think youre the sweetest thing here, though,” he teased, his lips brushing against your earlobe. you stifled a giggle, trying to keep your composure as his words sent warmth rushing to your cheeks.

just as you thought hanbin might be satisfied with his display of affection, he took it up a notch. your friend was now sharing a particularly amusing anecdote, and hanbins fingers lightly traced patterns on your forearm, his touch featherlight and barely noticeable to anyone else. your skin prickled with awareness, and you shot him a sideways glance.

“what are you doing?” you whispered, a playful glint in your eyes as you caught on to his game.

hanbin grinned mischievously. “who, me? im just appreciating the fine art of touch communication.”

you chuckled softly, leaning closer to him. “well, mr. communication expert, what else do you have up your sleeve?”

his eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned even closer, his lips now barely brushing against your ear. “how about this?” he murmured, his fingers tracing a heartwarming pattern on the inside of your wrist.

you couldnt help the soft sigh that escaped your lips. hanbin always knew how to make your heart dance with delight. as the evening progressed, you found yourself stealing glances and exchanging secret smiles with him, a silent dialogue of affection that only the two of you shared.

and as the night drew to a close, dessert plates now cleared, hanbins hand found yours beneath the table, his fingers interlocking with yours in a silent promise of forever.

// 석 matthew.

in the clinking of weights and the hum of machines filling the air, you were engrossed in your workout routine, headphones on, completely absorbed in the rhythm of your exercises.

your boyfriend stood nearby, a playful and yet proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he watched you lift dumbbells with focused determination, your brows slightly furrowed. unable to resist any longer, he strolled over and leaned against a nearby machine, his warm brown eyes fixated on you.

“youre looking incredibly impressive there,” he quipped, his voice a playful whisper that barely reached your ears above the music.

you blinked, momentarily taken aback before a grin broke across your face. “oh, so you think im finally lifting as much as you?”

matthew chuckled, his gaze dancing with amusement. “well, i wouldnt go that far. but youre definitely getting there.”

as you continued your set, matthews fingers lightly grazed your arm, causing a pleasant shiver to race down your spine. “need any pointers?” he asked, a hint of boyish charm in his tone.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “i think ive got this, thank you very much.”

he leaned in closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “ive seen your squats, and i must admit, theyre pretty impressive.”

a soft flush crept up your cheeks, but you tried to hide it by focusing on your next set. your boyfriend seemed determined to keep your attention, however. with a grin, he gently adjusted your posture, his fingers guiding your movements. “here, a little shift in your stance will give you better balance.”

you complied, surprised by how his touch not only corrected your form but also sent a pleasant warmth radiating through you. “thanks, i can feel the difference.”

matthews fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his touch becoming a lingering caress. “anytime, my personal training services are always available,” he teased.

betwixt the exchanged flirtatious glances and playfully bickering comments, matthews care and affection were evident. he fetched a water bottle for you, making sure you stayed hydrated, and subtly encouraged you through the more challenging sets.

as the session continued, he surprised you by joining in, effortlessly matching your pace. “you make this look so easy,” you huffed, sweat-drenched and slightly breathless.

matthew grinned, his shirt clinging to his chest as he mimicked your exercises. “well, someones gotta make sure youre not the only one suffering here.”

// 김 taerae.

as you stood by the stove, carefully flipping pancakes, your boyfriend entered the kitchen with a rascal expression. “hey there,” he chimed, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. his touch was both affectionate and reassuring.

you chuckled, focusing on not letting the pancakes burn. “good morning, taerae. whats the occasion for this sneak attack?”

he rested his chin on your shoulder, observing your culinary skills with genuine admiration. “no occasion. i just realized how lucky i am to have a girlfriend who can turn flour and eggs into something magical.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “yeah. youre just buttering me up because you want some pancakes.”

“guilty as charged,” he admitted with a chuckle. his fingers traced gentle circles on your waist, sending shivers down your spine. “but also because i want some of your attention too.”

you finally turned off the stove and turned to face him, your eyes meeting his twinkling gaze. “you have my attention now. what do you want?”

taerae feigned innocence, his lips curling into a youthful grin. “hmm, maybe a kiss to start with?”

you pretended to consider his request, tapping your finger against your chin. “lets see. pancakes or a kiss… tough choice.”

he gasped in mock astonishment. “are you saying my kisses arent as delicious as your pancakes?”

you leaned in, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “definitely not as delicious, but close enough.”

he pulled you into a warm hug, his arms encircling you tightly. “ill take close enough.”

as you both swayed gently to an imaginary rhythm, the aroma of breakfast filled the air. taeraes fingers idly drew patterns on your back as he spoke softly. “you know, i think im addicted to your touch.”

you chuckled, nuzzling your head against his chest. “oh really? do you need a daily dose of my touch to function properly?”

“absolutely,” he replied without hesitation. “its like a warm, comforting energy that i cant get enough of.”

with the pancakes ready, you playfully extricated yourself from his embrace and set the table. “well, i guess i cant deny you your daily dose of affection then.”

he helped you with the plates, his eyes never leaving your face. “you know, im starting to believe that the best moments in life happen right here in this kitchen.”

you handed him a plate with a smirk. “are you saying that my cooking is the key to your heart?”

“among other things,” he teased, winking at you. “but honestly, its the love and laughter that fill this space that make it so special.”

// 리키 ricky.

as you saw the sun dipping below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the quaint little restaurant, you found yourself seated at a beautifully set table alongside your family. the ambiance was serene, with gentle music playing in the background and the distant sounds of laughter and clinking cutlery from nearby tables. the scent of delectable dishes wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation.

ricky sat beside you. he was dressed in a crisp white shirt that accentuated his blonde, tousled hair and his beautiful grin. you could feel his leg occasionally brushing against yours under the table, his way of seeking connection even in a crowd.

as the first course arrived, ricky leaned in slightly, his lips almost grazing your ear as he whispered, “hey, have i told you how stunning you look tonight?”

you chuckled softly, feeling a warm blush creep up your cheeks. “if im not mistaken, you already mentioned it thrice," you replied with a playful twinkle in your eye.

across the table, your sibling raised an eyebrow and grinned knowingly. “are you two whispering sweet nothings over there?” they teased.

your boyfriend leaned back, a sheepish grin on his face. “just trying to keep the romance alive,” he quipped, earning an amused chuckle from your parents.

as the main course was served, rickys fingers found their way to yours beneath the tablecloth. his touch was gentle and reassuring, a silent reminder of his presence amidst the family gathering. you intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a tender squeeze, and he responded with a loving smile that melted your heart.

between the clatter of cutlery and the hum of conversation, rickys foot subtly brushed against yours. you shot him a questioning look, and he raised an innocent eyebrow, feigning innocence. “oops, sorry,” he said, barely suppressing a mischievous grin.

your mother, ever perceptive, couldnt help but notice the exchange. she leaned in, a knowing smile on her lips. “just be sure to save some affection for dessert, you two,” she advised with a wink.

dessert arrived in the form of decadent chocolate cake, accompanied by a scoop of velvety vanilla ice cream. rickys eyes lit up as he took his first bite, and he couldnt resist offering you a forkful with an impish grin. “here, a taste of heaven.”

you indulged in the delicious treat, savoring the sweet and creamy flavors. “mmm, youre right. this is amazing,” you agreed, your eyes locked on his.

as the evening drew to a close, with your family engaged in cheerful chatter and laughter, rickys hand found its way to the small of your back. his touch was light yet possessive, a silent promise that he was there by your side, no matter the setting.

with a satisfied sigh, you leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. the restaurants warm lighting and the soft buzz of conversation created a cocoon of intimacy around the two of you.

as the night wound down and your family began to bid their farewells, your boyfriend stood up, helping you with your chair. his fingers brushed against yours again, his touch lingering as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “thanks for letting me crash your family dinner,” he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

you turned to him, your heart full of affection. “anytime, as long as you keep bringing that charming smile of yours,” you replied with a grin.

with a final, lingering touch, he intertwined his fingers with yours and led you out of the restaurant.

// 김 gyuvin.

as you sat on your plane seat, you decided to put on your favorite playlist, drowning out the noise of the plane engines with your favorite tunes.

beside you, gyuvin shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. he glanced over at you, an affectionate smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “hey, you,” he said, leaning in closer to you.

you looked up from your phone, surprised by his sudden closeness. “hey there,” you replied, taking out one earbud and offering him a curious smile.

“mind if i join your musical adventure?” he asked, gesturing to the empty seat next to you.

you grinned and removed the other earbud, handing it to him. “sure, pick a song.”

he scrolled through your playlist, his eyebrows raising in pleasant surprise. “you have great taste,” he noted before selecting a song.

as the music played, you both bobbed your heads slightly in time with the beat. the melody created a light, carefree atmosphere, perfect for the journey ahead. gyuvin leaned back in his seat, but his fingers couldn't seem to stay still. they tapped rhythmically against his thigh, his hand occasionally brushing against yours.

“you know,” he began, his tone casual, “ive heard that couples who listen to music together are destined to stay together.”

you chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. “is that so? and whos your source for this theory?”

he pretended to ponder for a moment, his lips curling into a mischievous grin. “well, the source might be me, but its still a valid theory.”

you playfully rolled your eyes, but a warm feeling spread through your chest. his playful nature was one of the things you loved most about him. as the music continued, gyuvins leg brushed against yours more frequently. he let his pinky finger graze against yours, his touch sending a tingle up your spine.

turning to him, you teased, “is this your subtle way of asking for affection?”

he chuckled, his cheeks taking on a faint rosy hue. “maybe just a little,” he admitted. “i mean, its a long flight. a guy needs some cuddle time, right?”

you laughed softly, your heart swelling with adoration for this man beside you. “well, i guess i cant argue with that.”

leaning a bit closer, gyuvin intertwined his fingers with yours, his touch warm and reassuring. “see, thats better,” he said with a grin. “much cozier.”

the two of you shared a comfortable silence, the music playing in your ears as the plane continued its journey. the sun had now fully set, painting the sky with shades of deep purples and blues. the cabin lights were dimmed, creating an intimate ambiance.

your boyfriend leaned his head against yours, his breath tickling your ear. “you know, i wouldnt mind if this plane ride lasted a little longer,” he whispered, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness.

you turned your head to meet his gaze, your heart fluttering at the affection in his eyes. “whys that?”

he shrugged, his lips curling into a tender smile. “just means more time for us to listen to music, share some cuddles, and maybe steal a few kisses.”

blushing, you leaned in, capturing his lips with your own.

// 박 gunwook.

you lay in your bedroom, your peaceful slumber untouched by the world around you. your room was like a haven of serenity, decorated with gentle shades of pastel and sunbeams filtering through the sheer curtains.

with you being unaware, gunwook has arrived earlier that morning. a playful smile danced on his lips as he watched you sleep, cherishing the quiet moments when he could admire your beauty without your witty retorts. he sat at the edge of the bed, his tousled hair giving him an endearing charm.

“gosh, youre so adorable when you sleep,” gunwook mused to himself, his voice a tender whisper.

a faint snore escaped you, and he chuckled softly. leaning in, he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. his fingers lingered on your cheek, caressing it ever so gently, as if he was painting his affection through touch.

your lips curved into a slight smile in response to his touch, even in your slumber. he leaned closer, his lips hovering just above your ear.

“hey sleepyhead, time to wake up,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling your skin.

you stirred, a sweet sigh escaping you. “five more minutes,” you mumbled, your words laced with sleep.

gunwooks fingers traced a delicate path down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. he chuckled again, the sound like a soothing melody. “you say that every morning, sweetheart.”

he let his fingers dance along your arm until they reached your hand. taking it in his, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “come on, the world is waiting for us today.”

you finally cracked open an eye, meeting his adoring gaze. “hmm, cant we just stay in bed forever?”

he laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with affection. “as tempting as that sounds, theres a whole day ahead of us. and ive got plans.”

your curiosity piqued, and you sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “plans? what kind of plans?”

gunwooks grin widened. “ah, thats a secret for now. but first, i need you to be fully awake.” he tugged playfully at your hand.

you smirked, a playful glint in your eye. “so, waking me up is just a ploy to get my attention, huh?”

he leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss. “well, that and the fact that i missed you.”

your heart fluttered at his words, a warm feeling spreading through you. “okay, okay, im up. but only because youre cute when you're desperate for attention."

your boyfriend feigned shock, a hand placed dramatically over his heart. “desperate for attention? me? never.”

you both shared a laugh, the sound filling the room with joy. as you got out of bed, gunwook wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“ready for the adventures of the day, my love?” he whispered, his voice filled with anticipation.

you leaned back into his embrace, a content smile gracing your lips. “always, as long as youre by my side.”

한 yujin.

pages were turning, notes were being jotted down, and equations were being solved as you were studying for your upcoming exam. little did you know, your doting boyfriend had something entirely different in mind.

with a twinkle in his eyes, yujin strolled over to your table, his tall figure casting a gentle shadow on your books. “hey there, brilliant mind,” he whispered, his voice a warm caress against your ear.

startled, you looked up, a surprised smile dancing across your lips. “yujin, you scared me…”

he snickered, his fingertips tracing invisible patterns on your back as he leaned down to peck your cheek. “sorry about that, but i just couldnt resist interrupting your study marathon.”

you playfully rolled your eyes. “oh really? and whats the occasion?”

he smirked, his hand moving to ruffle your hair affectionately. “no occasion, just missing my favorite person.”

returning to your notes, you raised an eyebrow. “mhm, and how exactly do i know youre not just craving snacks?”

yujin leaned against the table, his elbow barely grazing yours. “well, i might be a bit peckish too, but mostly i wanted to spend some time with you. just the two of us and these captivating textbooks,” he winked, his voice dripping with playful sincerity.

you couldnt help but chuckle, your annoyance at the interruption melting away. “youre something else, yujin.”

he grinned, his fingers now drawing soft circles on the back of your hand. “thats why you love me, right?”

you sighed dramatically. “i suppose so. but only because youre cute.”

yujins laughter filled the air, warm and melodic. “ah, youve discovered my secret weapon.”

with a mock sigh, you finally surrendered, closing your book and turning your attention to him. “fine, you win. what do you want to do?”

his face lit up, clearly thrilled that he had your full attention. “how about a study break? we can explore that garden outside. i heard theyve got roses that rival your beauty.”

you playfully nudged his shoulder. “smooth talker, arent you?”

he winked, his fingers now tracing your palm. “only for you.”

as you both stood up, yujin took your hand in his, his grip gentle and warm. the two of you walked towards the french doors leading to the garden, your steps light and laughter echoing in the air.

the garden was a riot of color, with vibrant flowers swaying in the breeze. your boyfriends arm found its way around your waist as he pointed out various blooms, narrating stories about each one. you couldnt help but be charmed by his enthusiasm.

as you both found a cozy bench beneath a blossoming cherry tree, yujin pulled you close, his head resting on your shoulder. “you know, i think i could get used to studying like this."

you smiled, leaning into him. “well, its definitely more enjoyable with you around.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his fingers idly drawing circles on your thigh. “ill always be here to distract you, you know that, right?”

you tilted your head to look at him, your heart swelling with affection. “yeah, i do. and i wouldnt have it any other way.”

© gvnvks 2023. do not copy or translate any of my works.

[fuctacles]

I just need a lil blurb of some nasty fucking pretty please 🥺

i am so sorry i am not good at writing smut im sorry. also u said nasty and all i could think about was sw e a t

this is ofc 800 words for 800 followers but tumblr brought me back to 693 since then lmao | Ao3

Steve likes Mondays.

Everyone leaves early, and he gets to close the gym by himself. He owns the place, he has the key, he can loiter around as much as he wants, and do everything as slowly as he feels like. There's no need to throw anyone out because even the most dedicated gym bros don't want to overwork themselves at the start of the week. 

Except for one guy.

He looks extremely out of place and the first time Steve saw him, he gave him a month, maybe two, considering he would show up with friends sometimes—always a good incentive to exercise. But one day, when he was lazily walking on a treadmill in his ratty sneakers and loose black clothes, Hargrove walked up to him, nodding at his shirt. New Guy, having no idea the whole gym was holding its breath, lowered his headphones and had a short exchange about metal music. They shook hands, sealing Munson's reluctant respect from other gym-goers.

If the lone wolf Hargrove, who bites anyone who even looks at him wrong, likes him, everyone else is also going to.

Eddie Munson still looks out of place and is extremely surprised every time a bulky guy approaches him to give advice instead of beating him up, but he's been going four months strong, which Steve finds impressive.

On Monday's playlists, he sneaks in some hard rock and any band he recognizes from Eddie's shirts. It was a Monday when Eddie told him about an ex that's been harassing him. On Monday nights, Eddie stays back, and they walk hand in hand through the dark parking lot. On Mondays, Steve fucks Eddie senseless in the empty gym.

He's still not sure how it happened. How a personal trainer and gym owner caught the eye of a scrawny metalhead, how their needs and wants aligned and clicked, but when he opens the locker room, there's only one person left there; tattoos on display and hair still dripping from the shower. 

"We're closed," he announces, gaining Eddie's attention. 

The man pouts. 

"Ah, I was hoping for a private session?" The towel falls from his hips, leaving him bare to the world. Which, right now, consists of one Steve Harrington. 

He closes the door. 

"Laying it on thick today, huh?" he tilts his head, approaching painfully slowly. 

"Ah, you see, I didn't have a dick in me for a whole week, I'm kind of desperate," Eddie admits, his smile turning shameless. 

Steve quirks his eyebrow. 

"Why do I doubt that? A slut like you?" He smiles meanly, finally within reach. Eddie seems to be vibrating out of his skin for a touch. 

"The wait makes it better," he says, a little bit breathy, eyes roaming over his body. 

Now that Steve could believe. Even if for a sliver of a second, he hoped it meant something else. 

He reaches out, thumb tracing the dip of Eddie's hips, but as the man shifts closer, his nose scrunches. 

"You stink."

Steve hums, grabbing his other side. 

"Yeah. You like it?"

"I just took a shower," he complains. 

A deflection. 

"Well, that's on you. Should have thought this through better, mister Dungeon Master."

"You're usually showered too!" he protests, grunting when he tries to stop Steve from pressing closer and gets his hands on his clammy pecs as a result. 

"Something came up." Steve shrugs, slowly engulfing him in his embrace. Eddie squirms, and to torment him a bit more, he lifts his arm.

"Steve—!"

He laughs and is about to release him and offer to shower together when he notices Eddie's face. Then, something else, hard and throbbing against his hip. A smirk blooms on his face.

"You do like it." 

"No."

"No?" Steve lifts an eyebrow. "You don't want my sweaty balls on your face?"

Eddie moans.

They look at each other with wide eyes, like they're both surprised by the sound. Steve laughs in surprise. 

"Well, why didn't you say so?"

He doesn't even have to push him down, Eddie goes to his knees without prompting, greedily pulling on his shorts. Once they're out of the way, he leans in and inhales, nose wedged between his thigh and groin. 

"Jesus," Steve mutters to himself, mesmerized by the view in front of him—the scrawny gym loser drunk on his pheromones, palming his rock-hard dick. "This really doing it for you, huh?"

Eddie whines, looking up at him with blacked-out pupils. Steve gets lightheaded with how fast the blood is rushing to his dick. 

"I want you on top of me."

Steve is initially confused, but when Eddie leans back to lie on the floor, he doesn't protest. Locker room linoleum might not be the best surface for sex, but he was going to take a shower anyway.

forgot to tag my little losers: @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[notiddygothgf]

i.

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝Baby, you're a star. Fuck me all night. Show me who you are, Pornstar.❞

★ c.w.: me rushing through plotbuilding to get to the good stuff, aki being an asshole, tension.

★ a/n: hiiiii! im so excited for this lil short story. its just something i was inspired to write while finishing up shameless. i thought... wow i love writing simp aki. now what if he was mean.... hrnngfhghj.... anyway so this is the fruit of that! i hope you enjoy, i should have the next chapter up soon if my studies permit!!!!! enjoy and leave lots of comments (ill update quicker if u do tee hee)

★ w.c: .5.2k

pornstar ; chapter index

AKI HAYAKAWA WAS infuriating. As a Captain, he was capable. As a man? He was, single-handedly, without a doubt, the most insufferable individual you had ever had the displeasure of working with. He had this "I'm-better-than-everyone" sort of approach to life, was impossible to conversate with, and had no regard for leniency or any other sort of thing that required him to have basic human decency. He was a machine – all he cared about was work, work, devils, Miss Makima's orders, and work. You knew that any human who had gone through what he had gone through would be a little rough around the edges, but "rough" was an understatement. He was an asshole.

Still, he was undeniably attractive. Considerably handsome. He had the most striking blue eyes – an almost elvish face partially hidden behind his midnight black hair. You had never seen it out of its signature ponytail, but his bangs were fluffy enough for you to know that it was soft. Rosy pink lips that seemed to permanently rest in a scowl and a jawline that could cut steel topped it all off.

Additionally, he was a horror to work with. 

Exhibit A:

One day, after a mission, you were trying (unceremoniously) to use your sword the way you had seen Captain Hayakawa do once before. It was something you hadn't seen before, a flick of the wrist, a movement of the arm, you weren't quite sure. Regardless, it had been smooth, and you needed to have something that looked cool in your itinerary.

So you spun the sword around the way he had. And, of course, the sword promptly flew out of your hand and landed on the floor five feet away with a resounding clatter – one that attracted the gazes of the rest of your team (including him).

"What the hell are you trying to do? Kill us?" He had asked.

Embarrassed, you tried to cover up for yourself, "I was trying to recreate this one move I saw you do earlier, but I think I need to work on my form."

He scowled then, perfect eyebrows drawn together, and grumbled, "You want my advice? Give up."

Exhibit B: 

Your team was investigating an abandoned building on the outskirts of Tokyo. Captain Hayakawa was, as per usual, leading the pack. Following close behind him (because, admittedly, you were a little scared of the dark and he was holding the flashlight), you were at eye-level with his back, and he had... quite an intimidating physique, but that was a story for another time. 

(Still, for the reference, the hard, muscled planes of his back practically obstructed your entire field of vision).

"We've been searching for hours now, Aki," Himeno sighed, crossing her arms after reaching into her pocket and fishing out a cigarette. Somewhere in the back of your head, you remembered your Public Safety trainer telling you that it was bad practice to introduce fire to uncertain situations. "Might be time to give it a break."

"Maybe we can split off into groups?" You suggested, "We might be able to cover more ground that way."

He paused, then, glancing over his shoulder – cobalt eyes partially hidden by the dim light, "Butt out."

Alright then.

Exhibit C:

Denji burst out laughing, nearly choking on his food. "Nah, nah—hold up, say that again! That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." 

You smirked, swirling your drink. "I'm just saying, Denji. If you actually tried using your brain once in a while, it might not be so bad for you." 

Denji scoffed. "Like you're one to talk!" 

Aki exhaled sharply through his nose, setting his chopsticks down with a quiet clack. His patience, already thin, finally snapped. He glanced between the two of you, his expression flat, voice edged with irritation. 

"It's funny how you morons flock together, isn't it?" 

Denji's grin faltered. You shifted in your seat, the weight of Aki's words settling over the table like a heavy fog. 

No one said anything after that. The conversation was over.

So, yes, in short, he was impossible. His attitude and yours made for a deadly combo – namely, that the two of you were constantly butting heads. You weren't quite sure why everyone but you seemed to get along with him just fine – was he different towards you? Were you imagining it? Were you the problem?

Even Himeno was starstruck by the guy. Now, admittedly, he was handsome. Still, that wasn't an excuse to be an asshole.

Presently, you were on a mission, standing around in some damp, dimly lit alley with Himeno, Aki, Denji, and Power. The target—a devil you were supposed to be tracking—had yet to show itself, and the whole thing had devolved into a waiting game. A miserable, frustrating waiting game. 

At least Himeno was good company. You leaned against the wall beside her, arms crossed, your breath fogging slightly in the cold night air. 

"I swear, if we wait any longer, I'm gonna fuse with the concrete," you muttered. 

Himeno laughed, nudging your shoulder with hers. "That'd make things interesting. Maybe we'd finally get some action." 

Aki, stationed a few feet away, turned his head slightly at the sound of your conversation. "Shut up," he said, voice low and firm. "We're working." 

You sighed, long and theatrical. "Bruh. We've been here for three hours, waiting for something to happen. If it hasn't by now, it's not gonna." 

Denji, crouched a little ways off, perked up at that. "For real, man. I say we just bust in somewhere and start smashing shit until something shows up." 

Power grinned, baring her teeth. "Yes! At last, a plan worth considering! Denji, you are a true genius." 

Aki exhaled sharply, the kind of exhale that carried the weight of profound disappointment. "If the two of you move from that spot, I swear to god—" 

"Relax," you interrupted, smirking. "No one's actually gonna do anything. We're just talking." 

Aki's gaze snapped to you. "That's the problem. Talking gets in the way of listening." 

You raised an eyebrow. "Listening to what? The sound of absolutely nothing happening?" 

For a second, his jaw twitched—just a little, just enough for you to catch it—but he said nothing, just turned his attention back to the alley. 

Himeno shot you a knowing look, grinning. You had a feeling she found the whole thing amusing. Maybe because she knew Aki well enough to see what you couldn't. 

Denji stretched his arms above his head with a groan. "Man, I hope this devil shows up soon. I'm starving." 

"You're always starving," Power said. "'Tis because you are a weak and pathetic man." 

"At least I ain't lying about it," Denji shot back. 

Himeno shook her head, laughing under her breath. You smiled too, despite yourself. Because honestly? As much as you hated standing around doing nothing, there were worse people to be stuck with.

After the investigation scene was cleared – a gruesome hour later – you and Himeno sat on a rock outside the building. A cigarette burned between her fingertips. You didn't smoke, but the smell didn't bother you – not nearly as much as it used to. So, instead of complaining, the two of you sat in companionable silence. She smoked and you... well, you told yourself you were relaxing, but that was a lie.

No, deep down, you knew you were staring right at the illustrious lieutenant captain Hayakawa, watching him take his smoke break a pointed ten yards away from the two of you – smoke practically pouring out of your ears.

Way to make it clear that you're not interested in conversing, you thought.

God, he's such a stuck-up prick.

You had a mission report to give him, a summary of damages and whatnot, something stupid like that, but you were dreading giving it. If Himeno wasn't taking her much deserved smoke break, you would have asked her to do it. 

You supposed it was unavoidable.

"I gotta give the mission brief to stick-in-the-ass," You sighed, turning your head to the side to size her up.

She winced, then chuckled. "He's not so bad."

"Yeah, to you," You whined. "I swear, he has it out for me."

"I think you're right, actually," She hummed, tapping the end of her cigarette and spreading the ash on the ground. "I wonder what you did."

Exasperatedly, you threw your hands out, whisper-shouting, "Nothing!"

"Wanna ask him?" She teased, kicking you in the shin with her boot. 

"Not a chance," You answered. Still, standing up and dusting off your knees, you added, "I'm gonna get it over with."

Himeno waved you off with a lazy flick of her wrist, taking another slow drag from her cigarette. "Good luck," she said, exhaling smoke through her nose. "Try not to pick a fight."

You scoffed. "I don't pick fights."

Himeno gave you a pointed look.

"...Not on purpose."

She laughed as you turned away, rubbing at the spot where she'd kicked your shin. With each step toward Aki, your reluctance grew heavier, settling in your stomach like a stone. He hadn't looked at you once—not even when you'd gotten up, not when your boots scraped against the pavement, not when you stopped just a few feet away.

You cleared your throat. "Mission report."

That finally got his attention. He flicked ash from his cigarette, eyes shifting toward you, dark and unreadable in the dim alley light. "Go ahead."

Right. Because heaven forbid he make things easy.

You inhaled sharply through your nose, forcing yourself to keep your tone professional. "Minimal collateral damage. No casualties. Devil confirmed dead." You paused, watching for some kind of reaction. When none came, you added, "Oh, and Power punched a hole through the third-floor wall. Don't ask me why."

Aki's brow twitched—just a little, just enough for you to catch it. "I see."

Silence.

That was it? Not even a sigh, a comment, an ounce of acknowledgment? You gritted your teeth.

"That's it? You see?"

Aki took another slow drag, exhaling through his nose like he was already tired of this conversation. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, maybe 'Thanks for telling me, oh esteemed and respected colleague,'" you deadpanned, shifting your weight onto one leg.

Aki exhaled sharply—right in your face. A deliberate stream of smoke curled into your eyes, stinging, making you cough.

You recoiled, waving a hand in front of your face. "Oh, screw you," you muttered, blinking against the burn.

Aki didn't react. Not a smirk, not a flicker of amusement—just that same blank stare as he took one last drag, then flicked the cigarette to the ground. The quiet scrape of his Converse sneaker grinding it into the pavement felt just as dismissive as the way he looked through you.

"Go get some rest," he said, tone clipped, final. Then he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, fists clenched, scowling after him.

God, he was impossible.

You spun on your heel and stormed back toward Himeno, already composing the exact rant you were about to unload on her.

The aftermath of one particular mission had been messy. The kind of messy that left the street littered with rubble, the air thick with dust, and your muscles aching from overuse. The scent of blood and burning filled your lungs. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm was blaring, and you could hear Power cackling about something—probably the chaos she had personally contributed to—but your attention was locked onto the man standing in front of you. 

Aki was rigid, shoulders squared, his coat hanging loose where the fabric had been torn. His hair was a little mussed—annoyingly attractive, even now—but it was his expression that held you in place. 

Cold. Impassive. But beneath that, a restrained, simmering anger, the kind that barely clung to the edges of control. 

And then, suddenly, he moved. 

The way he turned toward you wasn't abrupt—it was slow, deliberate, every step measured. His presence alone was enough to make you tense, though you refused to show it. When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, but every syllable was razor-sharp. 

"What the hell were you thinking?" 

The words struck harder than you expected, sinking under your skin before you could throw up any defenses. You were still catching your breath, sweat cooling against your skin, adrenaline still singing in your veins, but you forced yourself to straighten, shaking off the weight of his scrutiny. 

You lifted a hand, swiping away some of the blood smeared across your cheek— not yours, thankfully—and shrugged, keeping your voice as casual as possible. 

"I was thinking that I got the job done." 

Aki's expression didn't change, but something in his jaw ticked. He ran a hand through his midnight colored bangs, exhaling sharply through his nose. You could see the way his patience frayed, hanging by a thread, stretched taut and ready to snap. 

"The job," he echoed flatly, like the word itself irritated him. "Right. And what about the building you nearly leveled?" 

You scoffed, crossing your arms. "It wasn't that bad." 

Aki's eyes darkened, his expression shifting into something heavier. "Three floors caved in," he said, tone low and measured, but beneath the restraint, you could hear the crack of irritation bleeding through. 

He stepped closer, not enough to be aggressive, but enough that you felt it—the weight of his anger pressing into you, the sheer force of his presence making it harder to breathe. 

"Do you even understand how reckless that was?" 

Your fingers curled into fists. Of course, you understood. You understood that things had gotten messy, that your plan hadn't been the safest, but what pissed you off the most wasn't that he was right—it was that he always acted like he was the only one who was right. Like you were some reckless idiot who didn't think things through. 

Your jaw tightened. "It wasn't like I had a choice," you shot back. "I did what I had to do." 

It was different, this time. Aki took another step forward, and this time, you felt the air shift between you, thick with something you didn't want to name. His movements were precise, controlled, but his eyes—his eyes—were burning with something deeper. 

"You don't get to decide that," he said, voice quieter now, but no less cutting. "You follow orders. You don't play hero." 

You swallowed hard. 

The way he was looking at you made heat crawl up your spine, frustration twisting into something else—something that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with how unfairly attractive he was when he was pissed off. 

Your fingers twitched at your sides. "If I hadn't done what I did, people could've died." 

Aki's jaw tightened. "If you keep pulling reckless shit like that, you're going to die." 

His words hit harder than they should have, but you refused to let them sink in. Instead, you glared, chin tilting up defiantly even as your breath hitched. 

"And I'm not cleaning up your mess when it happens," he muttered. 

There was something in his tone—something unreadable, something you almost wanted to reach for, like he was trying to cover up the fact that he might have cared about you a little bit—but before you could, before you could shove back with another retort or demand what the hell he actually meant by that, he turned. 

Without another word, he walked off, leaving you standing there, heart racing, thoughts in complete disarray. 

You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down your face. 

God, you really needed therapy. 

Or maybe I just need to get laid? You thought. Perhaps it was the involuntary celibacy getting to you.

You decided that you needed both.

Mission get laid was a lot easier said than done. In your line of work, people often didn't last long enough to fuck around. If they did, they were assholes (not pointing fingers at anyone in particular). A few weeks later, and you were aching for some action. Everything seemed to piss you off a little more than usual. In fact, someone seemed to piss you off more than usual.

Hayakawa the cockblock.

You didn't know when you started thinking of him like that, but the title fit. It wasn't just that Aki was always there—it was that he seemed to have a personal vendetta against anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. If a guy even considered flirting with you, Aki had something to say about it. If a conversation lasted longer than a few words, Aki was there, lurking like a shadow, arms crossed, expression unreadable but just judgmental enough to kill the mood.

It was frustrating. More than frustrating. You were an adult. You could make your own decisions. You could handle yourself.

Which made this all the more annoying.

You had been talking to one of the newer guys, a hunter from another division, who, for once, wasn't a total weirdo or an asshole. He was tall, dark-haired, had one of those easy grins that made it clear he knew exactly how attractive he was—but not in an annoying way.

And he was into you. That much was obvious.

He had slid up beside you while you were taking a break, an easy smirk on his lips as he leaned against the railing beside you.

"You always look this intense?" he asked, tilting his head toward you.

You quirked a brow, unimpressed. "You always this nosy?"

He laughed, and okay—maybe it was kind of a nice laugh. He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Can't blame me for trying to get to know the prettiest hunter in the division."

You snorted, rolling your eyes, but the corner of your lips twitched upward. "Is that what you tell all the girls?"

"Only the ones who might actually kill me," he shot back, grinning.

Alright. Maybe this wasn't the worst conversation you'd had in weeks. He was easy to talk to, and more importantly, he wasn't running for the hills after five minutes of conversation.

"So, drinks after work?" he asked, cutting straight to the point. "I know a place."

And you were considering it. Actually considering it. What was the harm? A drink, some harmless flirting—

But before you could so much as open your mouth—

"Get back to work."

Your entire body tensed. That voice. Of course.

You turned your head just enough to see him. Aki stood a few feet away, arms crossed, expression blank but so obviously irritated that you had to bite back a groan.

The guy beside you straightened a little, caught off guard by the interruption. "I was just—"

"You were slacking off," Aki cut in, voice sharp, authoritative. "We're not done here."

You huffed, shoulders dropping. "Oh, come on," you said, turning to him fully now. "Are you serious?"

Aki didn't even look at you. His gaze stayed fixed on the other hunter, cool and dismissive. "You have a job to do," he said simply. "So do we."

The guy beside you hesitated, glancing between you and Aki, clearly weighing whether this was a fight worth picking. After a beat, he let out a breath and muttered a quick, "See you around," before walking off, scratching the back of his neck.

You watched him go, feeling the frustration coil tight in your stomach before you rounded on Aki.

"What the hell was that?"

"Flirting on the job is unprofessional," he said flatly.

You scowled. "I wasn't. He was asking me out for drinks."

Aki didn't react, just stared at you, unblinking, unimpressed. "Don't get drinks with him."

You narrowed your eyes. "Oh? Why's that?"

"He's not trustworthy."

"Oh, please." You scoffed. "You don't even know him."

Aki's jaw tightened. "Doesn't matter."

You crossed your arms, staring at him hard. "Why?"

He didn't answer right away. He just looked at you. That cold, assessing look, the kind that made your skin prickle, like he was peeling back your layers, picking apart your intentions before you even had the chance to understand them yourself.

And then, finally—

"Just don't."

Something inside you twisted, irritation spiking high, sharp. You tilted your head, expression turning coy, teasing, because if he was going to be insufferable, you might as well make him suffer for it.

"What, you worried about me?"

Aki's expression didn't change. But his eyes darkened, just a fraction, and for a split second, you thought—maybe—that you saw something else flicker behind them.

But whatever it was, it was gone before you could name it.

"Get your head out of your ass," he muttered, and before you could fire back, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, fists clenched, frustration bubbling over into something you weren't quite ready to deal with.

You let out a slow breath, forcing your shoulders to relax.

The silence felt heavier now. The absence of the guy who had been flirting with you only made it worse—like the moment had been stolen right out from under you. You turned your head slightly, watching Aki's retreating figure, and something about the way he walked—stiff, tense—made you wonder.

Was it really about professionalism? Or was it something else entirely?

You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down your face.

Hayakawa the cockblock strikes again.

You swore to God—one of these days, you were going to figure him out.

And when you did?

You weren't sure who would come out of it in one piece.

Late one evening, heart racing in your chest, you raised a hand to knock at Captain Hayakawa's door. You hadn't been sure whether or not he would have even been in so late, but you saw the telltale light shining through from beneath his door, and you knew he was working later than usual. So, gathering your wits and your courage (and smoothing your hands over your clothes to correct your appearance), you finally knocked.

It was answered with a faint, "Come in." Something only he could make sound scary, truly.

Be brave. Be brave, you told yourself. You had spent the entire way over here deliberating what you would say to him once you had him face-to-face – a lie you had rehearsed to explain your absence from work in a few days, something about your grandmother being sick, typical par for the course. You couldn't back down. Not now. Instead of running away like you really wanted to (because you knew that once you were inside, it would be just you and him, and you weren't entirely sure you were ready for that), you entered.

You poked your head in first. Swallowing the thickness that had settled in the depths of your throat, you called out to him, "Sorry to bother you so late, Captain."

He was sitting all alone inside, hair neatly done back – and, for a moment, you couldn't help the fleeting thought that he might have straightened out his appearance in the few seconds it had took him to respond to your knock. Papers were sprawled out over the length of his desk in neat stacks. The room was dimly lit, save for a lamp at his desk. He had a pen pinched between his index finger and his thumb, tip tapping mindlessly against the wooden surface. 

Beneath the dim light, he looked a little older than you knew him to be. He was either 20 or 21, you couldn't quite remember. Either way, he was only a year or two older than yourself, but the experience gap was noticeable. You knew that could easily be attributed to the psychological horrors he had witnessed at a young and impressionable age, but that was a type of business you tried not to mind. The bags under his eyes were a little more pronounced than usual, blue eyes half-lidded and droopy, like he was trying not to pass out.

His eyes dropped to your shoes, then raked themselves up your tense form. You writhed beneath the heat of his gaze.

God, I can never tell what he's thinking.

"Is something the matter?" He asked, something so remarkably normal and not angry that you had to actually do a double-take. When you said nothing, he curled a brow at you, waiting for your response. 

Now that you were actually standing there in his office, you were getting cold feet. No longer were you confident in the lie you had carefully conceived on the ride over. Truthfully, you had a date, but you knew you couldn't tell him that.

Was it that you knew or that you were ashamed?

Frighteningly enough, you weren't entirely sure. Either way, it felt like you were walking up to your father, about to tell him you had been hiding a boyfriend from him for the past year. 

So, switching your weight from foot to foot, you answered shakily, "I have... uh..." You swallowed, "I wanted to tell you that I won't be coming into work on Thursday."

That got his attention. He set the pen down, leaning back in his work chair and giving you the kind of look that could wither a fucking plant. "It's your responsibility to tell me a week in advance. That's when I make the schedules."

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze almost suffocating. The silence in the room stretched longer than it should have, thick and heavy with the unspoken words hanging in the air. You had to say something—anything—to break it.

"I'm... I'm visiting my sick grandmother," you said, the words feeling foreign as they left your lips. It was a story you had fabricated on the way here, an easy excuse that anyone could buy. But even as you said it, you felt a pang of guilt, like you were betraying something, someone.

Aki's eyes flickered over you, narrowing slightly, as though evaluating the sincerity of your statement. You couldn't read him—he was too good at keeping his thoughts hidden. For a brief moment, you wondered if he knew you were lying. His expression didn't change, but the air in the room seemed to grow colder, more tense.

"Alright," he said with a sigh, the words laced with resignation, though you couldn't quite tell whether it was disappointment or just weariness. "I'll make an exception. But don't make a habit of this."

His voice was the same as always—calm, almost too calm—but the underlying exhaustion was palpable, like he was just tired of dealing with people's excuses. You couldn't blame him for that. You knew he had been through more than his fair share of hardships, and the last thing he probably wanted was to deal with your little white lie.

You stood there for a moment, not sure what to do next, before Aki leaned back in his chair, picking up his pen again, signaling the end of the conversation. His focus returned to the papers on his desk, his posture relaxed, but something about the way he avoided your gaze made your stomach twist.

Before you could make a quick exit, something unplanned slipped from your mouth, almost without your permission.

"Hey, um... Himeno and I are going out for drinks tomorrow with some of the others from different divisions. You should come with us," you blurted out, the words catching in your throat as you said them. "It'd be nice if you joined us. We could all hang out for once. You know... get out of the office for a bit."

The request came out of nowhere, and you couldn't quite understand why you had said it. You had never once thought to invite Aki to something like this before. It felt... strange. You knew he wasn't exactly the social type, and you weren't even sure why you wanted him there in the first place. Maybe it was the loneliness that crept up on you during the long, sleepless nights. Maybe it was the faint hope that his presence would fill the empty spaces that seemed to grow wider between you and the people you worked with.

His gaze shot up to meet yours, and for a moment, you almost regretted speaking. He looked at you like you had just said something completely absurd, like it didn't even make sense.

"You want me to come out with you?" Aki asked, his tone a mix of incredulity and something else—maybe amusement, maybe suspicion. It was hard to tell with him.

"And Himeno. Yeah," You answered back, rather stupidly.

Your heart raced, and you shifted awkwardly on your feet, the uncertainty gnawing at you. Why had you invited him? You didn't even know why you wanted him there, why you felt this strange, impulsive need to extend an invitation. The thought of spending time with him outside of work—outside of the walls where everything was so professional and detached—seemed impossible. But here you were, offering him an out-of-place invitation to something that was supposed to be casual, easy, and fun.

Everything he was not.

"I mean, it's not like a big deal or anything," you continued, your voice faltering slightly. "It's just drinks with everyone... Himeno and some of the other teams. You could join us. It'll be a good way to unwind. We don't do this often, but..." You trailed off, suddenly unsure of yourself. "I don't know. You don't have to if you don't want to."

What the hell am I doing?

For a moment, Aki didn't say anything. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable, as if he were processing your words in his mind. He was quiet for too long, and you felt yourself growing more self-conscious by the second, like you had made a huge mistake.

But then, just as you were about to apologize for being so forward, he let out a soft sigh, one that barely registered as a sound.

"Alright," he said, his voice as flat as ever. "I'll think about it."

And just like that, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate. The cold, businesslike atmosphere returned, and you realized he wasn't going to press you further on it. But you still didn't understand why you had invited him. Why him? Of all the people, why did you want Aki to be there?

"Alright, goodnight then," you said, your voice sounding louder in your own ears than you intended. You started to turn toward the door, almost relieved that the conversation was over.

"Goodnight," he replied, already turning his attention back to his papers, not sparing you another glance.

You left his office, the door clicking shut behind you, but the weight of the interaction lingered in your chest. The invitation you had made—so impulsive, so sudden—felt strange. You didn't understand why you had said it, or why it felt like there was something more to it, something you couldn't quite place.

Why is my heart racing a mile a minute?

As you walked down the dimly lit hallway, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the night than you were letting on. A part of you wanted to retreat, to pretend it hadn't happened, but another part of you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he said yes. 

Would it change things? Would it make you feel differently?

You didn't know the answers, but one thing was certain: something was different. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

No, you weren't going crazy. Something had shifted between the two of you.

a/n: okay so this is gonna be a lil short sum summm just to tide me over during these trying academic times. lmk what you thought! lmk if you enjoyed!!!!!!!! x

credits: einruji__ on twitter . I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | pornstar ; chapter index

[goatgoesmbe]

naw but fr tho i think you've given me more knowledge in islamic sex ed than all my 12 years in school

I went to religious school since elementary and they didn't teach shit abt sex, except that one time about how to keep them coochie clean

So yea, i feel u bestie 😞🤝😞

I mostly asked a professor/ustad directly like, after the lecture i'd approach them to talk privately coz i wanna know what kind of sex toys would be halal 😄

.. eventually some who are used to me made this face like "omg.. this person again" when i raised my hand during qna session (im shameless, ive reached the peak of not gaf)

But i appreciate them for always answering seriously. Like this one time a kid asked if eating pork in Minecraft is halal lolol (it is Halal ofc LMAO)

and some others who were like, "you know what? Here's a whole guide so you can research them yourself"

So.. here ya go sksksk

Bismillah..

THE SOURCES (VERSES)

Can only be taken from:

Quran

Hadith

Prophet SAW besties (Shahabat) habit

Qiyas Syar'i

"But what are thosee 👀"

Quran: the words of God. Usually his response to the Prophet SAW. Like- they were having a convo, or God just wanted to yap. They're all recorded here. Like that whole verse about him saying fuck your psychotic uncle, or the other one about Him scolding the Prophet for his RBF

Hadith: the words and action of the Prophet SAW. In 1st person/3rd person

Split into: Shahih, Hasan, Dhaif, Maudhu

Shahih: valid, undebatable. He legit said that fr (he as in, the Prophet)

Hasan: means good, could be valid.. but one/some of the Rawi is sus.. it's ok tho

Dhaif: WEAK, some sources were questionable but some Rawi said valid- so this could be taken with a grain of salt FOR HISTORY SOURCES ONLY, it's NOT allowed to be the basis of a ruling

Maudhu: Fake, some guy legit said being a nationalist is Sunnah- lmao (bro made shit up)

*Rawi: scholars who confirmed the validity of hadith. Being a Rawi is very strict, they have to be perfect. For example they should never lie. So when i say a rawi is sus, sometimes it's coz someone saw them fishing (some said its Makruh coz ur lying to the fish :( by luring them with nomnom then yeet them u_u)

"But what if they lie about not lyin"

Wallahu'alam. We're taught to always assume positively about anyone except when there's a CONCRETE proof that this person is bad. And if the Rawi actually lie? Then they gonna bear the sins of everyone trusting their cited verses (everyone who followed the verses wouldn't be punished, coz obv they dunno if Rawi lie)

Prophet SAW besties habit: i think it's self explanatory- lol. This usually taken from hadith mauquf (hadith about words/action of the besties- 1st POV or 3rd POV)

This could be taken as verse- because they idolized the Prophet SAW so much so that they copied everything he does (including crouching when he pee- his wife told the besties it happened uh- yeah there's a verse about how to gain reward/avoid sin from pissing alone (Shahih Ahmad))

Qiyas Syar'i: scholars gathering and using their big brains to discuss the ruling for new stuff in modern time (period after the Prophet and his besties died). And since im no scholar, i usually just look up these discussion instead of using my own logic

Notes: these sources are preserved by bijillion people memorizing them. Hadith usually happened like this: A saw the Prophet eating chicken :O (Shahih Bukhari, 5517), A told B, B told C, etc etc (these are called Sanad). And then the Rawi will look it up and probably ask from A to C if that really happened, then the Rawi sorted them as Shahih, Hasan, etc. The Rawi era ended in year 920, no other people would be valid enough to be one in the present.. because well- how could you check if A really said to B.. they've been dead

More notes: it is important to preserve the verses in arabic. To avoid misscommunication due to mistranslation

THE RULING

THE OBJECTS: Halal & Haram

By nature, everything is Halal UNLESS there's an explicit verse saying they're not

Example: there's no verse about cigarette being haram. So the cigarette in itself is halal. But the use of it/smoking.. is another discussion for scholars

More example: Pork is haram (Al-Baqarah: 173).. to consume, trade, or serving them. Touching the meat is ok lol

"But 🙋 how about coccaine✨ there's no explicit verse saying coccaine"

Yes, but it counts as Khamr. Khamr doesn't necessarily means alcohol- but anything that could be intoxicating. Verse againt khamr: Al-Maidah: 90. There may be some scholars disputes (ofc using them for emergency/medical reason is ok.. like anaesthetic is khamr)

THE ACTION: Wajib, Sunnah/Mustabah, Mubah, Makruh, Haram

Wajib: Mandatory, you have to do it and get rewarded :D. If not, the you sinned >:(

Sunnah: Reccomended 👍, you do it? You get rewarded :D, you don't do it? It's ok

Mubah: Allowed, ..no reward, no sin.. just ok

Makruh: Not reccomended 🫤, you do it? Ok.. but if you resist the urge to do it you'd get rewarded :D

Haram: Obviously, don't do it coz it's a sin

For this, an act has to be explicitly stated in verses, whether it's ok or nah. Some might changes due to situations.. (for example: one time during the time of Caliphate Umar, they went thru famine, and the rich were greedy- not giving to people in need during it. So Umar said- U KNO WHAT, STEALING FROM THEM IS OK)

"But how do we knoww 😔"

Look up verses of Quran or Hadith Shahih/Hasan on google and such. Also opinions of valid scholars. Some might varies so make sure to look up if a Scholar is educated in that subject. It's ok to take any opinions to your liking even tho it's different from other scholar (example: most Indonesian scholar said music is halal.. with some exceptions ofc)

Also look at Tafsir! I reccomend avoiding trying to translate the meaning of verses by yourself, because mistranslation is a thing, also its usually worded in a way that it's hard to understand (old language be sophisticated ukno). So it's best to look up what scholars think this verses actually mean + the context of the situation and time when the verse happened (Tafsir)

Alright, enough of the boring stuff

✨SEX✨

Intimacy or any kind of affection to your spouse is an act of worship. So be horny 😌 for God 🫡

Foreplay is Sunnah (Al-Baqarah: 233). Scholars said: preceed with kind words, be playful, kisses, etc (Im saying that praise kink is Sunnah-)

Saying Bismillah and some prayers is Sunnah also, ..don't need to say it out loud, just mumbled it or said it in your head is ok too

Any positions is allowed as long as the penetration is into vagina

Any kind of anal penetration is not allowed :( (From Ibn Majah, hadith Sahih) a/n: lowkey funnyy how God said "NO ANAL" three times here-

But ☝️ Eating ass is ok 👍. Just dont penetrate with tongue/fingers/penis/etc. You can rub or grind between ascheeks, tease the rim with your tongue- these are probably Makruh.. but it's not a sin.. so :P

Period sex is not allowed (Al-Baqarah:222)

But ☝️ You 🫵 Can be creative. Like pussy job, stimulate clit, and the like- as long as theres not penetration to the bleeding cunt it's ok 👍 (probably Makruh)

Sex toys are okay 👍 but only for external stimulation, meaning- no penetration

Sex toys are also okay only if your partner is stimulating you with it, can't use it on yourself ;) (Again, some said Makruh, some said Haram)

Masturbation is not allowed (Al-Mu'minun 5-7, tafsir-ed by Syafii). But some scholars said that it's allowed if you're so horny it made you want to do things with someone who's not Halal for you (like that one Gazxreader mid-courting fic)

Though some scholars did say masturbation is allowed.. (but no penetration) makruh tho- it differs from variety on how scholars think the verse above meant. Some used the argument from verse (Al-An'am: 119) where it is said that anything needed to be said explicitly to be wrong/right in any verse- and masturbation never stated explicitly. Sees also opinions of Tabain, from Al-Muhalla by ibn Hazm- they're ok with it

Bondage and other kinks are allowed if both parties are consenting and had communicate it properly. And it shouldn't cause emotional distress/physical harm

..If anything, indulging in your partner kink is Sunnah :D

Giving each other head is okay, but not reccomended. Just don't swallow :3 (some said Makruh, some Haram)

Pulling out (azl) and using condom etc is ok 👍 but breeding kink is Sunnah (especially when the receiver is into it :3)

..Yes you can suck tiddy and drink the milk

..Yes you can fuck with hijab on praying mattress

..Yes you can use prayer beads as toys, dunno how but.. be creative(?) (still no penetration)

Sexting/Phone Sex is allowed. But either parties are not allowed to masturbate (some said Makruh, some said Haram). Though, both scholars said it's ok if you cum from it somehow with no hands involved/toys (again, some said Makruh some said Haram for the latter)

If you're not ashamed of it.. then do it ig (Said the Prophet, from Shahih Bukhari: 3483)

But it's reccomended to have haya and not be filthy (not a sin tho)

Scat and piss kink isn't allowed because the object (piss&shit) themselves are considered najis (dirty)

Penetrative sex & Orgasm break your fast! But making out and heavy petting is ok (edging is ok ehehe- probably Makruh tho). There's a verse about the Prophet kissing his wife, sucked her tongue, and drank her saliva- which means that doesn't break your fast.. (Shahih Bukhari: 1927)

But if you cum by accident.. like idk, in your sleep, or just somehow- it wouldn't break your fast. Just bathe

You need to bathe before praying if you had sex/orgasm

You don't need to bathe immediately after sex/orgasm

If you want to go another round, it's Sunnah to take wudhu between rounds

If you get aroused, leaking precum, getting wet and such- but didnt have an orgasm- you don't need to bath, just take wudhu

Both parties aren't allowed to talk about their sexy times with other people except for educational/medical purposes

Watching visual pornography is Haram due to the nature of us having to avert our gaze anyway

But reading text porn is a grey area. Either Makruh or Haram

Having nasty thoughts is alright, God made us horny as He stated. It's what you do with those thoughts that would be judged

Voyeorism isnt allowed. Due to the nature of awrah. Sexy times only allowed in private places

Holding hands kissing with tongue snuggling cuddling PDA is allowed tho

and uh.. idk what else, lmk if i miss anything

Just don't get too freaky ;)

Pregnancy sex is alright, as long as it wouldn't harm anybody

If you do any of the forbidden stuff byy accident, like- oh no.. Gaz 👀 wrong hole..

That's not a sin, coz you didnt intent to- but yes do immediately stop when you realized it

And dont feel bad, God is mercifull so repent

Notes: Sin with God and Sin because you hurt people are different. Let's say you ate pork on purpose, then repent and promised to not do it again. But if you hurt someone, you have to get their apology specifically. If not, there would be consequences in the day of judgement. (Rawi Muslim)

Example: Fulan stole his sister's Muffin from the fridge. It's Sunnah for the sister to forgive, she would be greatly rewarded. But if she couldnt help and hold grudges, both would be called forward. An angel would ask if she forgave her brother, if she said yea then cool. But if not, then Fulan has to give one of his pahala (reward/good deeds point) to his sister. And of course, anyone wouldn't just offend one person in their life.. so every each person who had grudges towards Fulan would alsoo be called forward then asked the same question. If Fulan is hated by sooo many people- to the point he has no pahala anymore :(, then the next person gonna give Fulan one of their sin, etc, vice versa.

So.. God may be merciful, but people (me) aren't. Someone could be really good religious wise but is an ass towards people in general, in that case, their good deeds from religious duty is useless *cough*mom*cough* (from Sahih Muslim: 2581)

This is a reminder to be kind 😌 "Speak only good words, or keep silent" or something along those lines (Shahih Bukhari: 6018)

Feel free to ask questions in my inbox/dm- but again! Im no scholar! Just a student :3 So i just gonna offer the opinions of scholars i gathered

Asking questions is reccomended in Islam

Even the Angels themselves who are made to be obedient- asked God when He said he wanted to make humans.

They basically said "Art thou sure?, They're just gonna kill each other and destroy earth". God answered "Yeah ik. Now kneel at them" (Al-Baqarah: 32-37)

Wallahu'alam