#but with a water bottle and sprayed in my ear

[okkalo]

do u ever wonder if there my be a cockroach in your ear rn☺️

YES ANR THEN I SEE A VIDEO OF SOMEONE GETTING STUFF OUT OF THEIR EAR AND IT FREAKS ME OUT SO BAD

[undead-potatoes]

Me: it's late and I should really start winding down so that when I go to bed in a few hours I'll actually fall asleep

Also me: now sounds like a good time to learn Blender

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

Rose and Sandalwood ⭑.ᐟ 🫧 𓂃 𓈒𓏸

synopsis: taking a shower with Sylus ;)

tags: shower sex, begging, nipple play, pet names, vulgar, creampie, explicit

wrd cnt: 1.1k

a/n: 3rd sylus fic of the week i’m on a sylus spree rn i alreays have another draft that’s almost done with bondage and gunplay….i don’t wanna be saved guys

The humidity in the air clung to your body, just like a specific crow behind you.

Sylus suggested since you use up most of his resources, you should both try to save a little water together at the least.

He’s the one always offering you everything !!

For once you could already see through his sneaky ploys, but you certainly didn’t mind.

After bickering about the water temperature, he caved and let you turn it up til damn near boiling point.

“I don’t understand how you can stand this…it feels like I’m going to melt.” He says, standing behind you while you let the shower heads around you spray your body with steamy water.

“I don’t get how you can shower in ice cold water- maybe that’s why your skin is so nice actually…” You second guess yourself.

He smirked, “See,” he picks up a black glass bottle of what smelled like a luxurious body wash, “You could learn a thing or two from me, sweetie”.

Before you had time to think of a good response, Sylus lathered up the now bubbly body wash into his hands and rubbed your shoulders with it.

You laughed- out of both surprised and disbelief. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I expect you to do the same for me after this you know, repaying my kindness and all.” He said, his eyebrows raised and trying to sound serious while you laughed.

“Of course you just want something in return.” You retort.

His eyes narrowed, pulling your body closer to his as his other started moving around, soaping up your neck and dragging his large palm down to your breasts, making you wonder what he had planned.

“I did want something in return, now that you mention it…” He lowered his head down to meet your face, “You” He whispered, barely audible enough under the half a dozen shower heads surrounding the two of you.

“Sylus…” You whimpered, feeling both his hands tweaking at your nipples, dragging his soapy hands against your soft breasts. He kneaded them, squeezed and rubbed them while you held onto his wrists.

Before you had any time to stop him, he grabbed the back of your thighs and picked you up, your upper bodies pressed against one another; your soapy tits transferring the suds to his chest.

“You look so cute like this, kitten.” He mumbled, placing kisses to your neck and hearing your soft moans as you tangle your hand in the back of his head.

You forgot how tall he really was, and how high up he had you now; pressed against the glass of the shower while the water rained down between you. The smell of rose and sandalwood kissed your senses, with Sylus kissing your neck and chest.

“Isn’t the whole purpose of a shower- to be clean?” You spit out between moans, feeling his hard cock lay in position between your folds and his lower stomach.

“I can clean you up right after, with water and soap….or my tongue, I’ll let you pick.” He mumbles next to your ear. “Unless….you want to stop right here”. He threatens, slowly letting you down.

“No!” You reply, gripping on his shoulders to keep yourself in his hold.

“Then what’s with all the complacency? We really need to teach you gratitude.” He snarled, placing the tip of his cock right at your entrance, watching for the approval in your eyes- well, moreso the desperation.

“Sylus- please…”

“Please? Is that all? I’m going to need more than that.” He replies, his deep voice sounding even smoother in the echo of the large shower room.

“Please- I need you…” You measly reply.

“Hmph, I guess that’ll do.” He smirks, pushing his tip up and down your slippery folds, hearing you whine as he finally pushed it inside you.

You gasped, not fully used to his size after all this time.

“Fuck…you’re squeezing around me so tightly, princess.” He exclaims, placing his hands back onto your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck, and legs around his waist.

“Sy-lus…harder!” You gasp, feeling ever inch of him slowly pulling in and out of you, dragging his long cock in and out of your velvet walls.

His grip on your hips only tightened, definitely leaving some kind of soreness to be discovered later that night.

“Do you even hear yourself? Such a naughty girl.” He says, taking your words to heart and pounding your pussy even harder. Relishing in your submission.

You could hear all the lewd noises, the squelching sounds coming from your shared effort, the chuckle of Sylus as he watched your fucked out face just contort.

“Oh fuck- Y/n…” He moaned into your ear, he knew how much you loved that.

He can’t help himself but to speak his pleasure into your ear, holding you so close as he fucks you so deep. The steam from the shower only made your head lighter, you felt like you were on an actual cloud.

With his brutal pace, you almost felt like the glass behind you was going to shatter soon. Sylus started to rut into you, his thrusts getting erratic and quick.

“Sweetie- I’m sorry…It seems like you will be getting dirtier soon.” He laughed, a strangled one that showed how close he was.

You wanted him to make you feel even more warm, to fill you up and let it drip out of you.

And he didn’t make you wait too long, as you approached your own orgasm, you felt a tight knot in your stomach, the pressure of Sylus’ body pressed tight against you threatened to make it all unfold.

“Ah- shit…” He groaned, holding the bottom of your ass as he pounded you deeper, digging his nails into your plush skin as you felt ropes or cum splash into you, hearing a deep groan evade his mouth.

The knot inside you had broken as well, creating a ring of your own cum around his cock; while your cunt dripped out his.

You both realized you were in the shower so long you would have been better off showing separately, but where’s the fun in that?

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[starryhyuck]

pairing: challengers!johnjae x afab!reader

words: 3.5k+

summary: johnny suh and jeong jaehyun are determined to prove their worth to you in this year’s tennis competition. you all end up receiving more than you expected.

genre: smut

warnings: there is some mlm johnjae so please don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with that, double penetration, cunnilingus, oral sex, handjobs, talks of creampies, three way make out

thank you for 9.5k followers!!

“Your serve is fucking insane.”

You hum noncommittally, fingers tightening around your bottle to spray more water into your mouth. You wipe the sweat from your brow as Donghyuck continues to eye you with amazement.

“You do know that ball boys don’t usually get to talk to the players, right?” You comment, a little perturbed by how easy it is for the younger man to approach you.

His eyes continue to sparkle despite your demeaning remark. Unbeknownst to you, Donghyuck signed up to become the tennis team’s lackey just to be able to see you in action.

You were the crown jewel of the university’s tennis program, having been recruited from the early stages of your high school career. Much speculation occurred at your decision to go to college first instead of turning to a professional career. You insisted to your parents that your education was still important despite your only shining skill being the ability to hit a ball with a racket. You slaved away most of your hours on this court, practicing to become the next best tennis player South Korea has ever seen.

“I’m looking forward to your match on Saturday,” Donghyuck says, eagerly handing you another tennis ball when you outstretch your palm to him.

Your eyebrow quirks up at the mention. The Korea Open kicked off this weekend and the press was convinced you would gain another title under your belt. You normally don’t enjoy goading them on, but you have a good feeling about the tournament this year.

“Scatter, pea brain,” Suyeon hisses when she approaches you two, flicking Donghyuck’s ear. The boy grumbles before returning to his place near the wall. Once he’s out of earshot, Suyeon turns her attention back to you. She’s dressed in one of her tightest skirts, indicating she has plans set in motion for tonight. “Are you ready to go yet?”

You shake your head at her inquiry. “I’m not done. Go ahead without me.”

She whines pitifully, clutching your arm tightly. “I can’t! You know I get much more attention when I walk in with you.”

You sigh. Suyeon has been chattering nonstop to you about all of the players who have flown in for the games this week. Tonight was the first party hosted by your university to welcome them, and your roommate took that as a green light to snag one of the tennis players for herself.

“I still need to practice my backhand-“

“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? Because I’ll do it.”

To prevent Suyeon from embarrassing herself even further, you hoist her arm and tug her away. She rejoices when you zip up your racket and bid your goodbyes to the remaining staff on the court. You do your best to ignore Donghyuck’s cheerful holler after you.

When you ask Suyeon if you can simply wear your practice gear, she throws you a disgusted look and quickly tugs you back to your shared dorm to change. You allow her to play dress up as she wants, wrapping your figure into a body hugging dress from the back of your closet. As soon as she deems you decent enough for the party, she hauls you over to the university’s lounge, where tonight’s events will be taking place.

Your first thought when you enter the party is that you would much rather be on the court. Just as Suyeon predicted, every eye turns to you when you step inside.

Whispers of tennis prodigy echo around the room and you try your best not to roll your eyes. Suyeon, on the other hand, basks in your popularity and bats her eyes towards the players that begin to approach the both of you. You decide to dodge the awkward conversation, excusing yourself to grab a refreshment.

It’s in the midst of downing a lemonade when you feel a presence linger behind you.

You turn to see none other than Johnny Suh and Jeong Jaehyun, the winners of last year’s doubles title. You heard that Jaehyun had enrolled into the same university as you while Johnny opted to go professional.

Despite the distance, the two seem closer than ever. And tonight, they stare at you like you’re their last meal.

“Hi,” you greet with an eyebrow raised.

Johnny speaks first, saying your name with a devilish grin. “We were wondering if we would see you here.”

He starts to introduce himself and Jaehyun, but you hold out a hand to stop him.

“I know who you are. I watched you two crush it at last year’s match,” you say, humming while you refill your glass. Jaehyun’s eyebrow ticks up at the revelation while Johnny’s smirk widens. “I’m guessing you’re both back to defend your title?”

“That, and to prove we’re just as good in the singles,” Johnny answers. You swallow a laugh at his unwavering confidence.

“I see you practice on the court sometimes,” Jaehyun says, diverting the topic of conversation back to you. “You’re incredible — I’ve never seen a backhand like yours.”

You smile at him, thanking him for the compliment. Jaehyun was definitely the more timid one of the pair, while you could tell Johnny led most of their conversations.

You feel like you’re in the lion’s den, with Johnny ready to pounce and Jaehyun waiting for permission to do the same.

Luckily, Suyeon rushes over and becomes your unknowing savior. Her hand wraps around your upper arm and she whines pitifully in your ear.

“SOS! SOS!”

“What is it?” You ask, eyes still remaining on the two men in front of you. Johnny’s fingers are slowly tightening around his glass and you wonder if he has the strength to break it. Jaehyun holds his a little more delicately, but you can see him clenching his fist behind his back.

You imagine one of them tangling their hands through your hair while the other wraps his around your neck.

“I don’t know anything about tennis,” Suyeon sighs, bringing you out from your lewd fantasy. “Come and help me, please?”

You smile at the two players, setting your glass down on a nearby table.

“Apologies, boys. Duty calls.”

You feel the weight of their stare follow you as you walk over to help Suyeon battle tennis talk.

You ponder if they’re desperate enough to stay behind for you.

—

You receive your answer later in the night.

As soon as Suyeon is all set for a lovely evening with a pretty player named Yuju, you start to make your way to the exit. You’ve had enough social interaction for one event, but two figures lingering by the door makes you second guess that decision.

Jaehyun adjusts his posture when he catches sight of you while Johnny leans casually against the wall, trying to make it seem as if he’s not affected by your appearance.

“You’re still here,” you hum, folding your arms across your chest. Both pairs of eyes quickly dart down to the swell of your breasts before moving upwards, acting like they weren’t just checking you out.

“Party’s too fun,” Johnny bites, sarcasm flooding his tone.

“I’m sure,” you chuckle dryly.

“Is your friend all good to go?” Jaehyun asks, and you can tell from the tone of his voice that he genuinely wants to know the answer.

You smile at him. “Yes, I was able to rescue her from the awful tennis small talk.”

Johnny kicks off from his position against the wall, approaching you with determination. Jaehyun eyes him carefully, and you realize from their body language that they have done this dance before. You think about how many other girls have fallen into their open trap.

“Well, maybe tennis talk isn’t all that bad. Especially in a quieter setting.”

Johnny reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his spare key set to one of the dorms the university is housing them in. He dangles them in front of your face, and you drink in his smug expression and Jaehyun’s anxious anticipation at your answer.

You tilt your head teasingly. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

Johnny shrugs. “Nothing wrong with a few tennis players strategizing before the match, right?”

Against your better judgment, you follow the two back to their dorm. You ignore the way Johnny’s fingers brush against the back of your thigh as he walks behind you and how Jaehyun’s hand continuously knocks into yours, pinky fingers brushing by each other. They clearly have set motives for the night and you would be lying if you said your mouth isn’t foaming at the idea of taking them both at once.

Jaehyun unlocks the door for you both, and Johnny keeps a steady hand on your lower back as he guides you in. As you expected, the university set them up in a double room, with separate twin beds pressed against each wall.

Before you can comment on the size of the room, a hand snakes around your middle, pulling you against Johnny’s backside. His fingers brush your hair to the side, pressing kisses against your exposed neck. Jaehyun has fallen to his knees in front of you, pushing up the fabric of your dress so he can catch a glimpse of your panties.

You make no moves to stop either of them, hands intertwining with Johnny’s as he continues his assault on your throat. You faintly register that you’ll have to cover up his marks before your match tomorrow, but Jaehyun nipping you at your thighs brings you out of your thoughts.

“So you’ve done this before?” You confirm while Johnny’s hands harshly squeeze your hips.

“Maybe,” Johnny hums teasingly, drawing out the last syllable. “But no one as pretty as you.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at his cheesy retort. You look down to see Jaehyun staring up at you, eyes filled with unbridled lust. You stroke his cheek gently and giggle.

“Are you waiting for permission?”

Johnny chuckles from behind you. “He’s waiting for you to sit on his face, sweet girl.”

Your eyebrow quirks up in surprise. Multiple exclamation marks pop up in your head but you’re not one to hesitate if someone is willingly offering to provide you an orgasm, so you bunch up your dress to your waist and hover over Jaehyun’s mouth. Johnny helps you in the process, pulling your underwear to the side and guiding your hips until Jaehyun’s tongue brushes against your folds. You gasp at the feeling and Jaehyun wastes no time diving into you, eagerly eating your cunt like his life depends on it.

Johnny’s hands have wandered to the straps of your dress, pulling it down and fondling your breasts. His fingers roll over your nipples, hardened and peaked from the intense foreplay.

He whispers in your ear, playing the devil on your shoulder. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Jae loves it when it’s sloppy like this, loves to feel his mouth being used.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, catching the implication in his tone that Johnny has been in your spot before. “He likes it better when you tug on his hair like this,” Johnny says as he guides your hand to Jaehyun’s head, allowing you to pull the strands. “It lets him know he’s doing a good job.”

Jaehyun’s lips swallow every drop of essence your pussy grants him. He seems to be thoroughly enjoying the experience, hands grabbing your ass and pulling you deeper onto him.

It’s not long before you’re completely riding Jaehyun’s face, desperately pushing yourself back and forth on his mouth in pursuit of your orgasm. You whimper when his tongue flicks over your clit, teasing the nub until you’re begging for him to make you cum.

“Please, please,” you whine, fingers tugging on his hair harshly. “Wanna cum, Jae, please.”

“Let the princess get what she wants,” Johnny says to Jaehyun. “Can’t have the tennis prodigy all wound up before her big match.”

Jaehyun follows Johnny’s orders, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking until your orgasm hits you. You cry and ride out your high until your thighs start shaking. Johnny’s arms hoist you up and before you know it, he’s throwing you onto one of the beds in your post-orgasm haze. You hear the clinking of belts and a hand wraps around your throat, squeezing gently.

“Sit up, pretty girl. Want to see my cock slide down your throat,” Jaehyun whispers to you. His mouth is still covered in the remnants of your orgasm, and he casually licks his lips to capture some of the taste.

Johnny slides in to your left as you sit up, feet dangling over the side of the twin bed. You pull your dress off, flinging it across the room. With Jaehyun on your right, you give him your attention first. Your hand trails down his stomach until you’re gently grasping his cock, pulling him from the confines of his briefs. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, long and pink with pre-cum gushing from the tip. You can’t believe he was this hard the entire time he ate you out.

Your head turns to Johnny, who is smirking down at you. His fingers are already wrapped around his base, pumping slowly while he watches you. He’s thicker than Jaehyun but equally as aroused. You replace his hand with yours, mimicking his previous motions.

You find a rhythm between the two, alternating between sucking one cock and stroking the other, and switching before one of them can complain about the lack of attention. Johnny’s hand possessively grips your hair while Jaehyun keeps a solid pinch at the nape of your neck, keeping you steady.

“What a nice picture this would make,” Johnny laughs sinisterly, observing as you lick him from his base to his tip. “Maybe we should commemorate this moment, Jae. They could put it up in the Hall of Fame.”

“What? Right over a plaque that says best cocksucker?” Jaehyun chuckles. “Add best pussy too while you’re at it. Never tasted a cunt so sweet.”

You ignore their degrading comments, too enraptured in taking their cocks down your throat as best as you can. Just the thought of having them both inside you is enough to make you clench your thighs, chasing friction as slick drips from your cunt.

“Hm, wonder what the little princess is thinking about,” Johnny murmurs. “Maybe what it would be like to take two cocks at once?”

You whimper around Jaehyun’s length, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Jaehyun clicks his tongue, giving two experimental thrusts that has you gagging.

“Selfish of her,” Jaehyun comments to Johnny. “Wants all the attention for herself, on and off the court.”

“Let’s not make her wait any longer then.”

You cough a little when Jaehyun pulls himself out of your mouth. Johnny tugs on your hair harshly until you’re facing him. He leans down to press his lips to yours, tongues fighting for dominance as he pushes you back down on the bed. You clutch the back of his neck, hungrily kissing him until you’re gasping for breath.

They adjust your body so Jaehyun lies underneath you, cock prodding at your waiting hole. Johnny hovers above you, spitting at your pussy and pushing two fingers into your waiting heat.

You mewl at the intrusion and Johnny grins. “Just as I predicted, Jae, still wet and ready for us.”

When he pulls his digits out, you release a croaky laugh.

“So which one of you plans on taking home the singles trophy tomorrow?”

You feel them eye each other at your question, both lining themselves up to sink into you.

“The best man will win,” Jaehyun mumbles in your ear, not sounding so confident in his answer.

You smile, sensing an open opportunity to encourage some harmless fun. You can already picture the two of them tomorrow — sweaty and desperate to prove themselves as the best. The thought of them being so competitive for the title causes more slick to gush from your pussy.

“How about this then — tonight, you both have to pull out. But tomorrow, whoever wins the title gets to cum deep inside me,” you drawl, watching as Johnny’s eyes cloud over and feeling Jaehyun’s hands tighten around your waist. “And I’ll wear your cum in my panties all day to show everyone who I belong to.”

The idea of them staking a claim on you drives them into a frenzy. You whine when they both push into your cunt, fighting for the tight space between their ridiculously large cocks. You collapse onto Jaehyun’s front, head falling against his shoulder.

“Slut,” Johnny growls at you. “That’s how it’s going to be, hm? Pretty princess wants cum dripping down her legs as she practices her backhand?”

Jaehyun groans in your ear. “Fuck, I want to see that so badly.”

Your mind is drawing a blank, heat filling your stomach as the both of them continue to press into you.

Jaehyun chuckles. “Maybe we didn’t think this through, John. Looks like her pussy can’t even fit the both of us.”

“Maybe you’re right, Jae.”

When they start to pull out, your head whips up with an unmatched fury.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“There she is,” Johnny smirks. “Princess wants us to break her pretty pussy, is that it?”

Your competitive nature flares up. “Trust me, I can take it.”

Johnny and Jaehyun exchange another round of looks and eyebrow raises. You feel utterly unprepared when Jaehyun plants his feet on the bed and Johnny situates his knees, his hands grabbing your thighs. They begin a furious pace, with Jaehyun roughly thrusting upwards and Johnny railing you until your head hits the wall.

You nearly scream, convinced that the neighboring dorms are going to file noise complaints by the end of the night.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss at the feeling of two cocks driving into you.

You feel completely full as they stretch you out. Johnny’s hand comes down to your clit to try and ease some of the pain. You crumble when the pain ebbs into waves of pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“There you go,” Jaehyun coos in your ear. “Just let us take care of you, baby.”

Two fingers slide into your mouth and you clutch Jaehyun’s wrist, gagging on his digits.

“Can’t wait to cum inside this tight cunt tomorrow,” Johnny grunts.

You hear Jaehyun scoff and give another harsh thrust, almost knocking you against the wall again. You blubber on his fingers but he doesn’t seem to mind the drool slipping down his wrist.

“What makes you think you’ll be the sure winner?” Jaehyun asks between throaty groans.

Johnny chuckles at the question. “Come on, Jae. You can’t be serious.”

“And if I was?”

Your orgasm hits you without warning and you cry, back arching and thighs shaking from the intense pleasure. You have to blink a few times before regaining your senses, and you’re surprised by what you find when you can finally see clearly.

Johnny’s lips are locked with Jaehyun’s, their tongues fighting for dominance in a messy kiss. They’re both still pounding into you albeit at a slower pace, suddenly enraptured by one another as Johnny’s hand moves from your clit to tangle into Jaehyun’s hair. The latter moans underneath you, removing his fingers from your mouth to lazily grab a handful of your breast as you remain sandwiched between them.

You didn’t think it was possible, but you grow more aroused at the sight. Filthy squelching sounds fill the room and your body starts to overheat from the constant stimulation.

Johnny’s eyes drift over to lock with yours, and he smirks into Jaehyun’s mouth at the sight of you. He pulls away from Jaehyun, who eagerly chases after him. Johnny cups your cheek and attaches his lips to yours, tugging Jaehyun along in the process. The three of you engage in one of the sloppiest make out sessions you’ve ever experienced, combined with a mixture of tongues and breathy gasps.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Jaehyun suddenly mumbles.

Johnny nods. “Me too. Let’s paint her body, shall we?”

You whine when they pull out of you, furiously stroking their cocks until they find release. You’re mesmerized at the sight of them climaxing, grunting harshly and coloring your stomach with ropes and ropes of their cum.

You collapse into a pile of bones and you feel them start to lick your neck, earnestly tasting the sweat dripping down from your face. You giggle at their unique form of aftercare.

“It seems like-“ you hiss when Johnny squeezes your breast again before continuing. “It seems like you two used up all of your energy. Do you think either one of you still has a chance tomorrow?”

Jaehyun laughs. “Don’t worry about us, baby.”

“Because we’re planning on cumming inside of this sweet cunt for the whole world to see, whether you like it or not,” Johnny finishes.

You swallow at their predatory gazes, shock traveling up your spine when you realize their cocks are already half-hard again.

You’re in big trouble.

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[s0fthunny]

things i do to feel extra cute and girly🍨

• try to keep my room and bathroom as neat and clean as possible!! where do dolls live? in cute and clean houses!!

• constantly having something moisturizing and glossy on my lips! for example when i’m sleeping i’ll wear my laneige lip mask or a lip oil and during the day time my recent fav has been the peach and lily collagen lip balm(it’s super glossy!!!) and the maybelline pearl lifter gloss!

• if i don’t have on acrylic nails i keep my natural nails shaped and well manicured!!

• moisturizing my skin every night AND morning! not only is my skin always incredibly soft, but i feel like it makes my perfume and body glitter stick longer and smell stronger!! my absolute fav body lotions are the eos cashmere vanilla and strawberry dream!!

• always having a cute plushie charm on my purse!! this is such an incredibly cute and girly little detail to add on to your everyday accessories!!

• wearing body shimmer daily and focusing it on my neck, boobs, and arms!! I’ll mix shimmer spray with a shimmer powder or my fenty body lava!!

• drinking water out of a pink bottle!! I have to stay hydrated, so i take my water with me everywhere!! girly doll skin is hydrated, plump, and glowy!

• all of my accessories are PINK!! my purses, wallets, keychains, bag charms!! if i happen to not be wearing any pink clothing at least my accessories are pink

• JEWELRY!!! jewelry is a perfect way to add extra girliness!! i love wearing rose quartz bracelets, hello kitty charm bracelets, juicy couture earrings and bracelets!! anything cute

• all of my pens, notebooks, journals, and pencil pouches are pink and sanrio!! you can be cute and extra girly and still successful in school and work!!

• the only shoes i wear are cute ballet flats and mary jane’s!! perfect doll shoes!!

[nomazee]

Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉

May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢

Take your time! ❤️❤️

this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 

Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 

“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 

“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 

“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 

“It’s ‘you and I.’”

“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 

Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 

“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 

“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 

“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 

In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 

You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 

“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 

“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 

He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 

“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 

“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on your face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 

“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 

“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 

“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes

[ellejos]

Night Routine for Insomniacs

for my fellow insomniacs who struggle with sleeping: some ideas to improve your night routine and sleep

How to get in the mood:

Light your candles

brew yourself your good night tea or drink (when I was younger I always drank hot milk with honey)

lower your lights and close your curtains

play relaxing music

prepare your bedroom (windows open or closed, hot water bottle in bed, etc.)

best ideas for resting:

watch an episode of the show you're currently watching or watch a film from your watchlist (because otherwise you'll never gonna see it anyway)

connect with your partner or the people you love <3 these people make life worth living and deserve your attention and time!

this is non negotiable: read at least 1-2 chapter, or if you're not into reading listen to an audiobook or podcast

do some yoga or stretching

journaling

Preparing is Key:

Lay out your outfits for the next day, pack your bag, prepare your gym bag, declutter of your clothing laying around - cleaning and preparing your space in order to get these tasks out of your mind for a good night sleep and a fresh start in the morning

Update your planner and to do list for the next day

set your alarms to get up on time

turn off your devices! if you are using your phone as an alarm clock set it into flight mode or create a night mode for yourself

put on your bed clothes

Night Skin Care Routine:

Remove Make Up with oil-based Makeup Remover

Cleanse face (don't forget about your neck and ears) with water-based cleanser (preferably the same cleanser you use in the morning)

Exfoliate your skin or use a face mask, massage your face while applying or try a sheet mask and use a face roller get the best benefits

use a toner afterwards to prep your skin for following

acid treatment and serums

if you're having break outs you can apply spot treatment

eye patches and eye cream

night cream or night mask

Your skincare routine in the evening should moisturize your face so that your skin is soft and glowing after waking up.

Ultimate hack for soft lips in the morning: you can create a lip scrub with sugar and honey and afterwards apply a thick layer of vaseline on your lips - it's a low budget game changer.

sleeping beauty tips:

brush your teeth before going to bed

spray your pillow with lavendar or diffuse some calming essential oils

listen to sleep meditation

absolutely no phone, tv or any devices for sleeping!

Have a good night rest angels!

[cottonlemonade]

Six And A Half Minutes

word count: 1608 || avg. reading time: 7 mins. (ironically)

pairing: University!AU Suna x chubby!Reader

genre: Smutty McSmutterson, teasing, nipple play, friends to lovers (?)

warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing, mentions of insecurities

synopsis: you haven‘t had sex in a while and your best friend offers to help out

“Don’t.“

“I wasn’t doing anything.“

“I know that look. Don’t call him.“

Rintarou had just stepped out of his bathroom back to the living room to find you staring at your phone, biting your nails in thought.

“I doubt he‘s even up, it‘s almost 2am.“

“Good, then put the phone away.“

“Ha, bit rich coming from you.“

He confiscated the device of temptation, ignoring the pout that followed.

“You’re getting this back when I know you’re gonna behave.“ He shook his head, flicking some access water from his hair into your face - like spraying a misbehaving puppy with a water bottle.

You turned back to the TV, sinking deeper into the collar of your PJs.

Exams were finally over and to celebrate you had planned a movie marathon with your best friend. Since the news predicted a nasty storm tonight you both decided you would spend the night on his couch.

“Why call the bastard anyways?“

You shrugged, not looking at him.

“Booty call? Christ, y/n, can‘t you just watch porn like the rest of us?“

“Eh, nothing‘s been doing it for me lately. I was so annoyed by the breakup and exhausted from studying that it‘s been well over a month since I-“, you stopped when you realized what you were saying.

He grinned. “You know, if you need it that badly, I‘ll step up.“

“Oh, you brave soul. I‘m good.“, you scoffed.

“You were just about to call a lying, cheating jerk and somehow my offer is ridiculous?“

“Don‘t take this the wrong way, but I don‘t wanna fuck my best friend and I highly doubt you want that either.“

Rintarou bit back a remark, then sighed and said, “We don‘t have to have sex to make you feel good, you know.“

“What are you gonna do? Stare me to orgasm?“

You finally managed to look at him - he didn’t seem to be joking.

“Nah, but I‘ve been told I‘m pretty good with my hands. And mouth.“

“What are you even saying right now? I don‘t want you anywhere near…“, you vaguely gestured to your lap.

“Alright then. Bet I can make you cum by just playing with your boobs.“

“Oh my god, you‘re serious.“

“Well yeah, thanks for noticing.”

You chewed your bottom lip in thought.

“What happens if you manage to make me cum?“, you asked in a small voice.

He shrugged. “Then you owe me one.“

The offer did sound exciting and you’d be lying if you said he had never crossed your mind during intimate moments you had with yourself. But this was insane! So many things could go wrong with this. What if things would turn weird afterwards and you‘d lose him as a friend?

“If it’s too weird like this we can set a timer or something.”, he suggested, as always reading your thoughts right off your face.

“Alright… how long… do you think you need? A minute?”

“One minute?! Are you kidding? I’m good, but not that good!”

You laughed nervously. “Fine. 3 minutes?”

“10.”

“10?! No! That’s too long.”

“Fine, 8.”

“How about 5?”

“7.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just keeping it realistic. 5 isn’t enough.”

“You can do it in 5.”, you said, trying to add a light encouraging tone as a joke.

He didn’t budge. “7.”

“Why 7?”

“Cause 7 minutes in heaven.”

He grinned again.

“I remember those seven minutes always being very long and awkward. 6.”

“7.”

“This is not how this compromising thing works!”

“Hey, you’re the one who wants to get off.”

“Fine…” you say, feeling heat creeping into your cheeks, “6 and a half.”

“For fuck sake. Fine six and a half. But don’t complain if you don’t cum.”

Your ears were ringing from his bluntness and you rubbed your legs together, trying to covertly get some friction.

He muted the TV and scooched closer, nodding towards your top.

You were pretty sure your whole face was bright red at this point.

“You gotta lift you’re shirt for me or take it off, whatever you prefer.“

The insecurities came flooding in. Sitting was not the sexiest pose you had to offer. Your belly fat rolled and bunched, then there were the stretchmarks clawing at your skin, plus you knew you had a terrible posture, making you sit like the hunchback of Notre Dame. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly and took a deep breath, slowly lifting the hem.

“Wait.“, he suddenly said and got up, hurrying out of the room.

Your shoulders sagged. Didn‘t take much for him to run for the hills. You wanted to bury your face in your hands but a few moments later he was already back, a tie in his hand.

“W-what are you doing?“, you stammered.

“Well, you looked super uncomfortable so I figured a blindfold might help. I don‘t have a proper one so I guess my old uniform tie has to do.“

That was… surprisingly thoughtful and sweet. You smiled and relaxed a bit.

With his help you used the red tie to cover your eyes. He made sure your hair wasn‘t caught anywhere and the knot wasn‘t too tight.

“Lay back.“, he said simply. You swallowed and slowly lowered yourself until your head touched the armrest.

“You comfortable now?“

You nodded.

“Alright.“

You heard him tapping on his phone. “Timer’s set, lift your shirt.“

Feeling a little more confident now, you did as he told you.

The complete darkness provided by the makeshift blindfold helped a lot and the cold breeze from his aircon brushed gently over your exposed skin.

If your nipples hadn‘t already been hard from the whole conversation before, they were now.

You heard him curse, then shift on the couch. You waited in your own private darkness. The only sound was the quiet whirring of the air con.

And then your bra was pulled down and his hands were on your breasts, caressing, just on the sides at first. A gasp dropped from your lips and you shivered, arching your back into the touch.

Rintarou‘s mouth was dry. He couldn‘t believe this was real. Your skin was so much softer than he had imagined. With calloused fingers he brushed over your flesh, just teasing at first, so very pleased when, with another shudder, goosebumps started to appear on your skin. Your nipples looked so fucking tempting but he wanted to build to it. Not like he had a lot of time, but he needed to savor this. When he finally cupped your breasts he had to bite his lips to stop a new stream of curses. Pillowy and inviting he wanted nothing more than to rest his head and fall asleep. Or push his painfully hard cock between them.

He was already two minutes down. Shit.

He loved how sensitive you were to every squeeze, every brush. You really hadn‘t had any release in weeks, huh. Fuck, he wanted you. He licked his lips and lowered his head. Holding your breasts in both hands he drew circles with the tip of his tongue around your nipples.

And you moaned. Sending lust filled surges straight to his cock. He felt the twitch in his sweats. He needed you to do that again.

He moved to the other nipple, making sure to flick the abandoned one with his finger. You started to squirm and he was rewarded with another moan.

More. More. He closed his lips around you, sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the perfect little pebble in his mouth.

Oh, he was addicted to you. There was nothing else but you. He let your nipple go, only to set kisses to your skin and blow on your little pearls, wet from his saliva.

“Fuck, Rintarou…“

He was getting dizzy, his movements became needier and it took all of his remaining focus to not start rutting his stiff cock against your plush thighs.

Your whimpers and sighs were almost non-stop now and he just openly groaned with your perfect tits in his mouth now, the vibrations tickling your nipples.

Where had the time gone? When he glanced over at his phone, he only had a minute left.

He nibbled at your breasts, sucking deep red marks into the flesh. His hands, so careful and gentle at first, now became groping and he moaned loudly when his cock made accidental contact with your leg. He was not above humping you like a dog but he really needed you to cum first.

“Oh God, yes… Yes, nngh, Rintarou, fuck…“

Shit, were you close? He pinched your nipples, then let them plop out of his mouth before really latching on like his life depended on it.

Cum for me, he thought. Please.

You raised your hand and he almost came right there himself, when your fingers ran through his hair, pulling him closer to you.

“Fuck, y/n, cum for me.“, he whispered against your skin, “You can do it. Cum for me, baby.“

And the timer went off.

Startled by the noise you shot up, removing the blindfold.

The brightness of the lights left you disoriented for a moment. Rintarou sat before you, out of breath, flushed, disheveled. You had never seen this kind of hunger in his eyes. You felt embarrassed, fixing your bra over your slick covered breasts and lowering the hem of your shirt.

You still felt him on your skin. Why did you stop him? Maybe he would have continued, if you hadn‘t. Shit, you were so close.

While trying to avoid his eyes, your gaze landed on his sweats and the rather sizable imprint of his cock pushing against the fabric.

He didn‘t hide it. He knew you saw it. And he was waiting for your next move.

part 2

@nyctophilicroses - covertly slides over another Suna smut fic with chubby reader

[m1d-45]

snapshot

summary: short, soft moments with your lover, featuring tighnari and neuvillette (separately) in that order.

word count: ~1k composite

-> warnings: big mention of bugs in tighnari's ! none shown but theyre discussed, as are bug bites. none for neuvi.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

bug bites were common among forest rangers. a special bug repellent was included in every pack, a black bottle with plain instructions. tighnari put effort into making it easy to apply and easier to understand, constantly finding new ways to promote its usage. if gone untreated, even small beestings can become serious. add onto it the fact that he was the one that inevitably had to treat them, and he had every motivation to ensure it was used. he made sure that spares were easily accessible, included demonstrations in training, and emphasized the importance of proper application before every patrol.

so why in teyvat did you keep getting bit?

every time, without fail, you returned from patrol scratching your wrist or ankle or wherever you inevitably got bit. and every time, he had to be the one to drag you to the medical hut. at least if you acknowledged the severity of the situation and brought your injuries to him on your own, that’d be understandable. he understood that the feeling of lotion wan’t bearable for everyone—he was in the process of transforming it into a mist to make it even easier—and he’d be happy to find ways to keep you inside if that was the case. there was no shortage of small chores to be done, and with collei now in full recovery, you could easily take her place.

but no. of course not. that would be too easy. his partner happened to be the most stubborn ranger on the squad, with the worst affinity for bugs he’d ever seen.

“how does this always happen to you?”

you shrug, pulling his mint plant off the shelf and beginning to tear off a few leaves. part of him is proud you at least know the proper treatment, though it’s quickly overshadowed by the angry swelling on your hand. he takes the leaves and nudges you toward the chair, searching his drawers for the rest of the poultice.

“how long ago did you get bit?”

“maybe half an hour.”

“half an-” he twisted open the tin with too much force, sighing. “and you didn’t come back immediately why?”

he can hear the smile in your voice. “it wasn’t that serious.”

“…what color was it?”

“yellow.”

“really?”

“and striped. probably a wasp.”

he didn’t know how you had the energy to be sassy, tearing the leaves into shreds and mixing it into the tin. your eyes were red with tears and you hissed when he spread the medicine over your wrist, clearly in pain. the area around your bite was hot to the touch, and he could feel his ears pull back in worry.

“why do you insist on going on patrol?” why do you insist on getting hurt?

“it’s not a big deal.” i don’t care about my pain.

“it is.” i do.

he wiped off his hands and grabbed a roll of bandages, wrapping your hand. your fingers flinched whenever he pulled it too tight. how could you insist on putting yourself at risk like this?

he taped down the end, holding your hand in his. “if it gets too itchy, come back to me, okay?” will you let me care for you?

“of course i will.” i’ll try.

he brought your hand to his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

maybe this time, you’d mean it.

rain was common in fontaine. gutters lined every road and fountains sprayed wherever there was enough room to put one. carved bricks channeled water out of the plazas, every inch of the city designed with rainfall in mind. steep roofs fell over wide awnings, thick greeting rugs in front of every building. when it rained, it poured, though no puddles lay in the streets. sharp lights cut through the dense fog hanging over ivory walls, lighting up the city even when the clouds blocked out the sun.

but the world did not come to a standstill merely because the weather asked it to. boots were sold covered in waterproof wax, many-layered skirts designed to flick off water in a single twirl. fashion was as beautiful as it was untouchable, the very idea of something being vulnerable to waterlog appalling and confusing. who would create such a thing? who would wear it without an umbrella? and, entirely separate from that: who would ever consider leaving the house without an umbrella?

umbrellas were as vital to fashion as they were to the ever-changing weather. they came in every color and shape, made to match every conceivable outfit one could wear. and if, by some miracle, you couldn’t find one that did, there were a plethora of boutiques offering custom embroidery. the steambird was eager to comment on the shifting designs across officials’ umbrellas, trends flowing in and out of their fashion column like the tide. everyone who worked in the court that had stepped outside on a rainy day—which was about as common as the sun rising—had their appearance meticulously documented; unless they refused being in the paper, of course, in which case other less-reputable sources picked up the story instead.

all were reported on, making the front page if not the headline. all, but one.

the iudex did not carry an umbrella. he also declined to entertain any questions as to why, merely stating that simple fact and moving on with his day. his hair clung to his face, even his suit darker with water. he walked down the less crowded roads so he wouldn’t bump into anybody, seeming entirely unbothered by the rain. sometimes he’d turn a palm toward the sky, as if checking that it was still there, and then continue on his way.

you always hated this habit of his. no matter how many times he insisted that he wouldn’t get sick, it was always worrying to open your door and find your lover soaked from head to toe. no water slips from him to your floors, not even from the soles of his boots, the click of his heels and your worried tone the only sound in the house. it was already late as it was, and there was no point to fuss about details at this hour.

“what happened?”

he shed his coat, suspended droplets hovering in the air around him. “the marechaussee phantom were called to mount automnequi; a melusine was badly injured by a rogue mek, and a fisherman had to pull her from the sea. i paid her a visit after work.”

that would explain things. he lets you wipe off his face, careful not to smudge the eyeliner that never seems to fade. already, the rain was beginning to let up, lightening from a downpour. rain in fontaine was as fickle as it was frequent…

“is she alright?”

“of course. the gardiennage provides excellent doctors.”

“then there’s no need to worry.” cupping his now-dry face in your hands, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “she’ll be back in her feet in no time.”

the slightest of smiles crossed his face, his hands keeping yours on him. outside, the skies were clearing, pale blue quickly streaming through the clouds.

perhaps umbrellas would fall out of fashion soon, if rains could cease before they truly had the chance to begin.

[navstuffs]

"Private" Security

Pairing: Rookie!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: Your rookie cop boyfriend, Leon, protects you during your morning jog. Based on the tiktok by @johnny_tsunami_88.

Warnings tags: protective!leon, fluff, though the image says female jogger, this is a fic for gn!reader!!!, reader might be jogging/running/walking

Author's notes: heeey!! finally i have decided to write! i am a HUGE sucker for protective fics and when i saw this tiktok i HAD TO WRITE.

my leon's masterlist

"Leaving the house. Love you."

Your text message arrives around 15 minutes before the end of Leon's shift. It had been a relatively peaceful night in Raccoon City, except for a fight in the busy bar on Main Street at 3 am. Again, Leon had to separate two males who got involved in a fight because of a woman. " Every Saturday, he thought as he sent both men their way before asking for backup. At least they were inoffensive enough to get in their ride-share app cars without complaining.

Leon welcomes your text message with a smile. You tell him you want to restart your fitness journey at 5 am. Why? Because if you don't do it at 5 am, you will never compromise for the rest of the day, so it is a way to encourage yourself.

Of course, Leon was there at 5 am every morning to accompany you. There was no way in hell Leon would let you run alone. The streets could be dangerous, and Leon was always cautious about your safety, especially given the dangers of Raccoon City.

But today, the first day of his new schedule, Leon couldn't relax. He asked you to text him when you left the house, let him know if anything bothered you, and carry pepper spray, though you hated the idea of "arming" yourself. Leon couldn't fathom something happening to you.

With a sudden decision in mind, Leon turns on his patrol car with his lights on, but no sound. He has an appointment he can't miss.

-x-

Breathe, you tell yourself. Breathe deeply. Concentrate.

With your favorite playlist playing in your ears, you put one foot after the other, focused on exercising. It is your first day without Leon at your side as your loyal partner, and you thought you would feel bad, but sometimes being alone is the most peaceful thing that could happen.

You texted him as he asked you to put one earbud in (Leon begged you not to put both and to always be aware of your surroundings) and started jogging- slowly, at your own pace, with no stress. The sun wasn't out yet, and the birds weren't singing yet. Most lights are off in the houses in your neighborhood. 

This new fitness journey has always been about your mental health, a way to make you feel better about yourself. The fresh air, the feeling of having your body moving. It sucked that you had to be aware of your surroundings, but what can we do right?

Within ten minutes of your run, you notice the familiar lights of a police car appear behind you. You are surprised, turning your head quickly behind you and seeing the familiar car following you at a slow speed, escorting you as you exercise.

As you get close to the park near your house, far away from most houses, you hear your boyfriend's voice through the speakers.

"You are doing fantastic! I know you can do it, honey!"

You giggle, then continue and focus on your usual jog- almost a walk, but you don't mind. What matters is that you are feeling good about yourself. After you had enough, you walk toward the police car, breathing heavily, and Leon has his window open, a massive smile on his face.

"Hey, pretty." He looks so handsome, with the rising sunbeams illuminating his face.

"Hello, officer. Am I in any trouble?" You tease back, lying against his open window. Leon offers you a water bottle, which you gladly accept and drink. "Shouldn't you be off work already?"

"Yeah. Need to keep civilians safe, though. Especially adorable ones like you."

"I would be fine. My boyfriend told me to bring this." You raise the pepper spray in your hand, and Leon nods, happy.

"I am glad you are following your boyfriend's direction." Leon then stops and becomes more serious. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't, sweetie. Are you telling me you will always escort me during my morning jogs?" 

"I will always keep you safe. Your safety is my number one priority, always." Leon replies, his tone very serious. You nod, saluting his seriouness. "Do you need a ride back home?"

"No, I will be fine on the way home. I promise." 

Since no one was around, you decided to return to the house after giving Leon a quick goodbye kiss. Looking over your shoulder, you saw the police cruiser still parked in the same spot, probably with the driver still keeping his eyes on you.

Leon watches as you quickly turn around to blow another kiss before disappearing. His face is red, and his heart feels fuzzy. He shakes his head, thinking it's better to bring the car back to the police station.

[lulusdiary]

Tender Hands

[Lil drabble I couldn't stop writing in my head while at lunch with my in-laws, who I can't tell about my obsession with Ghost. Copia is a chronic migraine sufferer because who wouldn't be after getting beamed with those stage lights night after night and also because I said so and so am I. GN reader, sfw, just a soft little post show piece. No spoilers for the Ghovie.]

The roars and cheers of the crowd are slow to die as Papa and the Ghouls make their way backstage, with Papa heading straight for the little corner he's claimed as a dressing area. He flops down onto his sofa, head in his hands, as you approach and offer him his post-show mint tea. He takes the cup with one hand; the other still pressed to his temple. As he slowly sips the steaming herbal brew, he groans quietly, the sound almost lost among the chatter of Ghouls, dancers, and stagehands scurrying about.

"Another migraine, Papa?" You ask as he finally removes his hand from his forehead, taking another drink of his tea.

"Si, unfortunately," he replies, and you head for the small chest on his vanity that contains his migraine medicine. You dose out the pills into your cupped hand and return the bottle to the chest before dimming the lamp in the corner of the space, making it as dark as possible. You offer him the pills and a bottle of water, and he sets his empty teacup down on the side table. "Grazie. You are a treasure, you know?" Papa swallows the pills with the water and leans forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes closed. His greying hair is beginning to fall in his face, loose of the copius amounts of hair spray used to make it stay, and he looks tired and pained.

You step forward, his head almost brushing your stomach, and gently press your fingers into the back of his neck, working loose the knots you find there. Your fingers slip beneath the collar of his shirt and rub what you can reach of his shoulders where they meet his neck, and Copia groans. He reaches for you, his hands hooking the backs of your thighs and pulling you close enough that he can rest his face against the soft black fabric of your shirt, not caring if he smears his paints now that the show is over.

You hum a gentling melody as your hands travel back up his neck and into his hairline at the base of his skull, working loose the tension you find there, and it is this press that makes him wince. The migraine has been progressing for a while, you guess, brought on by the brightness of the stage lights and the roar of the crowd over his in-ear monitors. Your fingers gently work through his hair along his scalp, mussing his hairdo further, and Copia sighs in relief as you rub small circles behind his ears and at the hinge of his jaw. He lifts his head as your hands travel to his temples, working out the pain as best as you're able.

"Behind the ears again, per favore," he requests, and you oblige. Copia groans again, pressing his face into your stomach as you work. After a while, he lifts his head, and his mismatched eyes gaze up into yours. By now, the medicine should be taking effect. Coupled with your massage, he should at least be feeling alright enough to change clothes and make it to his bunk on the tour bus.

"Better, Papa?" You ask, gently holding his face in your hands. He presses his cheek into your palm with a sigh.

"Si, tesoro. Much better."

[macfrog]

soaked

started replaying tlou1. can't get qz joel out of my head. inspired by this work of art by the insanely talented @thefriendlypigeon !!!

summary: boston qz. the days are slow, the nights are long. joel wakes up alone with a problem that needs fixing. enter: his shower (literally)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) joel jacks off in the shower. that's p much it

word count: 1.5k

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💙

His fist locks tight around it; gives one long, slow jerk. The sensitive skin moves with his fingers. His hips shift forward, body asking him for more – and he obliges. He glides through his curved hand, halting when his fingers reach the dark hair at his hilt, slowly soaking under the messy spray from overhead.

He hasn’t slept all night. Not a wink.

It isn’t anything new. He rarely sleeps anymore; prefers to let himself drift in and out, teetering against the edge of slumber and then pulling himself back again. Staying in this life, instead of being dragged into a past one. Stops the nightmares. Stops the memories.

Usually, he can let himself rest, though. Let his eyes close over, let his ears deafen to the sounds of the world around him. Heavy footsteps fade into a numb knocking on the walls, the steady heartbeat sound of the QZ. Roars and yells from the street below are the blood twisting violently through the veins of the place.

But tonight – fucking hell, tonight. Tonight, he lies and stares at the distorted rectangle of amber light on the wall opposite his bed. When he closes his eyes, it’s still there. He can still see the peels of torn wallpaper, the way the harsh glow from the streetlight outside licks at the faded pattern like a flame, dousing his apartment in some ugly shade of nauseating orange. Like he’s living inside a fucking pill bottle.

Tonight, he teeters nowhere. He looks up at the pale ceiling – rotten paint slowly succumbing to the claim of the brown stain of damp. He looks at the apartment door – considers how easy it would be to kick down, how little effort it’d take against the rusted lock and molded wood. And he looks out of the window – to the inky black sky canvasing a jungle of buildings and power lines, lit by the moonlight of watchtowers.

Eventually, morning comes. The first break of day replaces that harsh, dirty glow with something softer, fresher. He runs his palms down his face, digs the heels into his eye sockets until he sees stars. His fingers swipe through his beard. His lashes flutter open.

It can’t be later than six. The sun’s only just clawing herself over the horizon. Peering over the ledge of his window, shooting like a bullet through the bottle he left on the table last night, rays refracting all over his kitchen.

When he pulls the mottled white sheets from his body and shifts to the side of the bed, there’s a tightness between his legs. A stiffness. It beckons his chin lower, draws his puffy eyes to the swelling in his boxers. The outline of himself, rock solid through the worn cotton. He curses under his breath and pushes from the mattress, groaning at the ache of his back and the throb of his cock.

The water only runs warm when no one in the surrounding apartments is using it. His only neighbor spends every night on the streets – Joel doesn’t bother to question why. He would’ve heard, though, if the guy had already hammered back into his own apartment; if he’d slammed the door shut, hinges rattling; if he’d sank into squealing bed springs. Joel would know.

So he hauls the curtain back, cranks the metal knob in a white-knuckle fist. The shower coughs up some pathetic spatter of freezing cold water, soaking the ends of his graying hair; and then, right before he yanks if off again with a sigh of contempt, it surrenders a burst of stronger, warmer water.

He holds an open palm under it for a few seconds. Turns his hand over, lets the water break across his wide knuckles. He feels a strain beneath his underwear. He tugs the fabric down and steps beneath the stream.

His cock slaps against the trail of rough, dark hair dappling his groin as he moves. He growls as the water cascades down his chest, running over the curve of his stomach and teasing tiny, pattering kisses along the wide base.

He glances down at himself. Spits into the palm of his hand, then uses it to cup his heavy shaft, running the pad of his thumb up the vein pulling at the surface of his skin. He shivers when he reaches the head, red and raw and angry, and swipes at the precome beaded there. He drags it back down, spreading it gently around, the skin glistening with saliva and sweat and arousal.

His fist locks tight around it; gives one long, slow jerk. The sensitive skin moves with his fingers. His hips shift forward, body asking him for more – and he obliges. He glides through his curved hand, halting when his fingers reach the dark hair at his hilt, slowly soaking under the messy spray from overhead.

The direct stream of water is broken by the arch of his shoulders, splashing against the nape of his neck. The droplets of water race down his spine, sinking between the valleys on his back where his body slopes and swells with muscle. As he tightens his grip with his right hand, his left jumps up, palm smacking heavily against the grimy tiled wall.

His head dips, eyes full with the sight of his cock fucking his hand. At fifty, living in a wasteland with little companions outside of those he nudges past in the hallway on his way to the ration line, he forgot how it felt to fucking do this. He feels like a damn teenager – all hormones and chasing. Chasing a high, chasing a release. He doesn’t even remember the last time he felt himself this hard in his own hand.

It feels fucking good. Feels sweet. He smirks, letting his eyes slowly close, and imagines it isn’t his own hand wrapped around himself. Imagines the gentler, nimbler grip of someone else. The touch of another person, the warmth. The intimate feel of them around him, giving him what he needs, listening to the sounds he lets fall from his lips, responding to them. Doing what he asks for. Doing what he begs for.

He thinks of the last woman he had wrapped around him. Her pussy – warm, wet, velvet soft – squeezing him until he came. He was careful then – pulled out in time to coat her belly and the inside of her thigh with his come.

Right now, in the shower, with his eyes closed and his fist beating furiously up and down his length – he doesn’t pull out. He fills her deep with his seed. Fucks her so good until she draws in around him, pulling the orgasm from his body, taking everything he gives her. Every last fucking drop.

His wrist jacks. He whimpers, breathless and weak. It’s drowned by the time it hits the flow of water. She’s such a good girl. Takin’ it so good. Lettin’ me fill her up so nice. Prettiest pussy I ever felt, sweetest sounds I ever heard.

He’s close. His hips start to falter. Belly sucks in, tightening around the coil he’s desperate to let snap. Harder, faster, tighter. His finger curls around the top of his shaft, squeezing with his thumb to tug just below his tip. Harder. Faster. Fuckin’ – tighter.

“Fuck,” Joel breathes, and he realizes his entire body weight is being held up by his one hand, splayed out on the slippery wall in front of him. “Fuck, darlin’…”

His left hand drops to cup his balls, kneading slowly as his right focuses hard on nailing the arrow in the center of the target. The bullseye. He thrusts into his fist. His head falls back as it approaches. Mouth agape, filthy moans scratching from the bottom of his throat to the ceiling. The shower pours onto his chest, water trickles down his hairy torso. It’s following the rush, fleeing southward. Thundering through his body as his lungs start to freeze up, breath solidifies in his throat. His back begins to arch. Knees bend a little. And then –

His head snaps back down with a grunt to watch his release; thick, white ropes spurting from the tip of his cock and coating the tile, running down the wall towards the drain. The moans and curses which slip from his tongue follow at its heels, the water rushing them off to the shower floor and ushering them down the steel pipe. He groans, the noise reverberating against the shower walls, the echo of his own depraved sounds relaying in his ears only spurring him on more.

He's panting, hand slowing as he works his way through his climax. White heat floods over his body, crashing like tidal waves on his shoulders. His breath slowly returns, chest rising and falling again as his lungs restart, regain function. He feels dizzy. He feels shaky. His hand pulls up to the tile again, and his arm tenses as he leans forward, cock still dripping with come.

When he feels empty, satisfied, his hand stops. Holds his soft dick steady at the base, fingers gently massaging his balls. He’s still regaining composure, breath still finding a rhythm again. His entire body feels alive, thrumming and pulsating with energy and blood and the aftermath of his orgasm.

The water chokes in the shower head. The flow disappears, and then returns a second later, weaker and colder. The neighbor.

When he can feel his knees again, when his head feels like it’s back on his neck, body whole again – his weak fist twists the valve off.

----------

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[fakeredhead95]

Mark Grayson X F Best Friend

First ever time writing so be nice!

CW: MDNI, SMUT, 18+ ,

1183 WORDS

The salty air whipped through your hair as you watched Mark chase the retreating waves, his laughter echoing across the empty beach. “This is the life y/n!” He was a whirlwind of energy, always moving, always joking.  You’d known him since you were kids and even though you were both in your late twenties now, he still managed to make you feel like a giddy teenager whenever you were together.  “Come on Mark let's get you out of the sea before it gets too dark” you called. “You do remember I’m a superhero right?” called Mark. “Just shut it and hurry up” you laughed.

You’d come to the beach for a night of stargazing, a spontaneous decision fueled by a bottle of wine and a shared craving for the ocean. The sky was a canvas of glittering stars, the moon casting a silver sheen on the water. It was one of those nights that felt like a secret, a moment just for you two, tucked away from the world. 

Mark returned, his hair damp from the spray, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He sat beside you, shoulders slightly brushing against yours a warmth spread through you. It wasn’t just the summer night, it was the way he looked at you, the way his eyes held a depth you’d never noticed before. “This is so beautiful,” Mark remarked. You couldn’t help but smile this moment was perfect, this evening was perfect.

You talked, not about anything profound, just sharing stories and silly jokes. But the laughter felt different this time, laced with an undercurrent of something deeper. You found yourself wanting to reach out to him and want to touch him, to feel the warmth of his hand in your own. 

As the night wore on, a blanket of clouds rolled in, obscuring the stars. The air grew heavy with moisture, and the first drops of rain began to fall. “Quick y/n let's go” Mark got up and grabbed your hand leading you to seek shelter with him under a dilapidated pier, the wooden plank creaking under your weight. 

The rain intensified a relentless downpour that seemed to wash away the world under you. You were trapped together with only the sounds of the drumming rain and the pounding of your heart.

You’d noticed Mark was still gripping onto your hand, this sent jolts of electricity through you. You looked into his eyes, the rain reflecting their depths, and you saw something you’d never seen before; a vulnerability, a longing that mirrored your own heart. 

Mark's thumb brushed against your cheek, “y/n I can't hold this in any longer”. He leaned in and his lips brushed against yours in a soft tentative kiss. You couldn’t quite believe what had just happened but it felt right. The world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the feel of Marks's lips against yours, the scent of salt and rain mingling with his cologne.

The kiss deepened when all of a sudden Mark shot up “ Oh my god I'm sorry y/n I should’ve never kissed you i’ve crossed the line” you put your hand over Marks mouth and said, “ No Mark this is exactly what I want. I want you now”. He leaned back over to you and kissed you deeper becoming a passionate dance of tongues and hands. You felt a surge of exhilaration, of pure, desire.

“Oh my god y/n I need you” Mark whispered into your ear. 

“I’m all yours baby” Marks hands began to wander and he began to grip your tits, a wetness between your legs started to form. You then began to find your way to Marks waist and you can feel his muscles beneath his shirt as you trace your fingers up and down his chest. 

Marks lips leaves yours for a moment and he starts to trace kisses down your neck, and you shiver with pleasure, and let out a soft moan. He grabs the bottom of your tshirt and lift it over your head exposing your erect nipples. He sucks your tits taking you all in then he pinches one of your nipples between his fingers.

“Mark…” you pant your voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to fuck me… right he right now”. Mark’s eyes darken with desire as he hears your words. He pulls you closer leading you to lay down, he grabs your underwear and rips them off by the seams. “Oops sorry about that” he remarked.

Marks eyes rake over your naked body, taking in every inch of you. He reaches out and grabs you by the waist pulling you closer. He was between your legs still fully clothed you could feel his rock hard cock against your wet entrance. He wastes no time and rips his tshirt of his head and pull his shorts down revealing his fat cock pressing against your stomach, and you know that you need him inside you. “Enough teasing now Mark, please fuck me, please just fuck me” you whined.

He lines himself up with yout entrance, his eyes locked onto your as he pushed inside you “FUCK y/n” Mark called out, you cry out as he pushes inside you. “Im so fucking wet for you” you moaned. Your walls stretching to accommodate his fat throbbing cock. Mark begins to move, his hips thrusting against yours as he fucks you with a raw, primal need. You needed him each thrust your bodies together in a dance as old as time itself.

You lie there, your body trembling with pleasure as Mark Grayson’s hand wraps around your neck. It’s not a tight grip, just enough to hold you in place as he fucks you. You call out his name, your voice hoarse with desire.

“Oh fuck, yes oh fuck, harder, Mark harder” you begged your hips bucking to meet his thrust. 

His eyes dark with lust as he watches you, his hand never leaning your neck. The sensation of his rough palm against your skin only adds to the pleasure building inside you. 

You reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair, as you pull him closer, deeper. Marks rhythm falters for a moment before picking up again, his breath hot against your ear. “ You like that, dont you?” he moaned.

“Yes, Yes I love it” you moan your body on the brink of release. Mark’s fingers dig into your hips as he pounds into you, his pace frantic and desperate.  You can deel the orgasm building inside you, your muscles tightening with each thrust. 

And then, one final push, you shatter. Your body convulses with pleasure as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you. Mark’s thrusts become errates as he reach his own climax filling you up with his warm cum, his body collapsing onto of yours. You lie there, panting and spent. Mark rolls off of you, pulling you into his arms.

“Fuck y/n you’re amazing” he murmurs, his lips pressed against your forehead. You smile, your body still humming with pleasure. “I know” you reply, snuggling closer to him.

[luveline]

HII BABE can i request miguel x spidergirl!reader where reader shows miguel how to do her skin routine before bed in a shared apartment?

Miguel tongues at the inside of his cheek. “You can't be serious,” he says eventually. 

You smile at him, hope in your eyes. “It'll look cute. You'll love it.” 

Miguel considers what you're saying. You shift from one foot to the other, your fuzzy socks bumping his with every step. 

He scratches a little crystal of missed toothpaste from your bottom lip. You wait patiently, and it's that patience that melts the last of his reluctance. 

“Fine,” he says, dropping his arm back to his side. 

You beam and bring your hands up to his hair, raking it back from his face, a headband slipping down your wrist to hang in the crook of your elbow. “It's for your benefit, anyway, not mine,” you say, grabbing the headband to stretch carefully over the top of his head. He's impossibly tall, and even on tiptoes you struggle. He slouches imperceptibly to help you. “This is messy business.” 

“I've washed my face before.” 

“Not like this, babe.” 

You coerce the headband around his neck before pulling the front back up over his face to push his hair back. It's tight around his ears, and when he looks in the mirror, it is with an incredible amount of self disdain. 

“Good kitty,” you praise. 

Miguel adjusts the white cat ears to be central, relieving a little of the pressure from behind his own ears, but not enough. “Can we hurry this up?” 

You make sure your own face is clear and grin. “Let's do it.” 

You wet your faces with handfuls of hot water. Miguel's skincare routine consists of nothing more than showering and using a mild facial soap before bed; yours feels rather mammoth in comparison. First is an oil cleanse. You pour honey-coloured facial oil into his hands from a stout bottle, and he follows your lead without needing instruction, dedicating himself the skin surrounding his nose and between his brows  

“Wash it off with water,” you say, “I'm gonna do it a bit longer.” 

“Why?” 

“It's supposed to pull the gunk out of my pores.” 

“What about my pores?” he asks. 

You rub circles into your nose. “Who said I care about your pores?” 

Miguel doesn't bother rolling his eyes, bending to wash the oil from his face. Next is regular face wash, white suds gathering in your brows and under your nose as your elbows fight for room at the sink basin. You win (he lets you) (or that's what he likes to think), rinsing the soap off and patting your face dry with a small towel. 

The sink gurgles as he turns off the faucet, water running down the line of his neck and his arms to his elbows. You pat him dry. 

He likes that, the simple intimacy of being looked after unconsciously. You obviously don't think about drying his neck and hands for him, you just do it. 

“What next?” he asks quietly. Softly, some might suggest. 

“Come on,” you say, taking his hand. 

Miguel has seen you do it all many times now, but doing it with you is different. He lets you pull him into the bedroom, where you pick through bottles of serums and toners and tubs of pads to grab a red bottle. 

“Dragon blood?” he asks, eyeing the label of your face mist in distrust. 

“Not really. Close your eyes.” 

You spray your mist over his face, and he doesn't flinch, barely moves an inch, until you put a hand gently to his chest and crane your head up to kiss him while he's unsuspecting. 

He admits defeat. He loves you, he can't hide it much longer. “Is that everything, mi querida?” 

“That's not half of it.” You rub his tacky cheek adoringly. “Would you?” 

He takes the bottle of mist from your offered hand, waiting for you to close your eyes. When they're shuttered tight, he leans down to kiss you thrice in quick succession, lest you feel the curve of his smile on your lips and think he's having fun. 

[k-hotchoisan]

Soaking wet (San x fem!reader)

Synopsis: Soaking in the water festival, both literally and physically, you find your eyes trailing to a certain red haired man, completely drenched, his tank sticking to his skin like a tease. The festival isn’t the only thing that’s gonna be wet.

Genre: smut, fluff, San is performing, the both of you are wet, sexual tension (kinda!), reader is playful

Warnings: penetration, cumming, masturbation, heavy petting, slight hair tugging (san is the one getting his hair tugged🌶️), unprotected sex (PLEASE USE CONDOMS <3), cream pie, riding

Word count: 3.7K

A/n: no one drives me as insane as Choi san… my brain has rotted even more ever since waterbomb and I can’t stop fucking thinking about him

You navigate against the crowd, your hand linking with your friend’s, who is babbling about being excited that they could finally attend face-to-face events after a long while. You smile as you continue threading the crowd, a strange glimmer of excitement and anxiety flicking in you because you knew he would be there.

Water festivals are fun in their own way, once you let yourself get drenched and just enjoyed the music beating in your ears. You weren’t letting San dominate you of course. You had your own white shirt on with a bikini top and sweat shorts for easier manoeuvring, especially through the thick crowd. Whether or not you’ll get sprayed—is another matter entirely, and whether that will capture San’s attention as well. But the main point was, you weren’t gonna let San get a rouse out of you.

Bubble Pop blasts on the speakers and you silently cheer in delight at such a fun song. Definitely a summer classic. The water guns continuously drenches the crowd, including you but all you care about was feeling Hyuna’s music from head to toe. You didn’t know where San and his buddies were but not that it should matter—nothing was going on between you and the idol anyway. You comb your wet hair back, shaking it to let the excess water out. You are wet, but not drenched, yet. The fun was just getting started. Your friend whispers something in your ear—something about getting drinks for you. You smile at her and gently take the drink she offers you—a non-alcoholic one. It’s too early to get wasted. After having more talks and giggling with your friend, she suddenly squeals and you whip your head to the stage. Ah, another band is performing on stage. And it’s exactly who you think it is.

Choi San’s shirt clings onto his skin, pulling taut against chest, his nipples just peaking beneath the sheer fabric, teasing your eyes. You glance up and down at him, swallowing every single part of San with your eyes like a full course meal, forcing yourself to show as minimal reaction as possible. Seonghwa told you that San’s outfit was safe but dangerous—whatever the fuck that even meant. Dangerous is an understatement—San looks deadly. He had removed his hat and hung it on his ripped, baggy jeans, sweat and water just trickling down his temple to his jaw, down his throat, and sinking into the sheer ass fabric clinging onto dear life on his skin. Before you realise it, San catches your eye, and his lips curl into a smirk as he continues to pour and drench himself with another bottle of water. You swore to yourself that you’d never let him have the satisfaction that San just crawled into the crevices of your mind like a parasite. Fuck. Your eye contact meets his, determined not to lose this round. This only seems to rile him up a little more and he cuts the eye contact shortly after, going off to the other side of the stage. You exhale, combing your wet hair back again, feeling like you went through the most intense battle for some reason.

Just then Seonghwa walks over and meets your eyes, flashing a small smile. He, too, looks absolutely delectable—his white turtleneck drenched, pressing against his skin and a whole line of zipper just censoring his nipples at the perfect spot. What a fucking tease. He glances at San who catches his gaze before turning back to you, his hand on the water cannon. Before you know it, it sprays and absolutely drenches you. Your friend squeals and has her arm up with her drink in surprise. The white tank presses onto your skin and while you were wearing a bikini top, it somehow looked even sinful since now your chest was becoming more visible. You push your completely drenched hair back and your eyes search for Seonghwa on the stage. He’s obviously left the scene of the crime, whispering to San about something as San passes him. San’s gaze turns to you, and his expression unreadable as he lingers on you. You stare back and smile innocently. This felt bad for some reason, and you weren’t even the one who insinuated it.

The band finishes their set and you excuse yourself, threading yourself back out of the crowd. Your friend follows you out for a quick breather as well. “Toilet” she says. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

You nod as you watch her disappear into the distance. You walk the opposite direction, pulling out your phone from your mini shoulder bag. You reach to a more isolated area in the festival. The music was still beating pretty loudly in your ears and you comb your hair back again, getting the wet strands from your face to check your phone. A presence appears in front of you and you look up. San is staring down at you. Up close, he looks even more heavenly, his expression still unreadable.

He breaks into a small smile. “Damn. Seonghwa really got you huh.”

“What brings you here, San?” You ask, locking your phone and crossing your arms. You’re not sure if your heartbeat is accelerating from the music or because San is standing before you.

“Saw you in the crowd. Didn’t expect you to be here”, San says as he leans towards you.

“Of course. Came here to see Hwa”, you mention, pressing your bottom lip with your left index finger, tilting your head a little, your eyes feign playing dumb as your gaze flicker from San’s to somewhere else. You hear San take a breath, sounding irritated. You peek at your peripheral vision and oh boy, you definitely pushed a button or two in San. Such a gullible man.

“Right, that totally seems like that case.” You both know that’s a lie. The both of you were like playing some kind of cat and mouse game ever since the accident of when you ended up making out with San at a pub in your drunken stupor as a dare from one your friends. What you didn’t realise was that he was from a rising boy band at the time and you ended up befriending the four out of eight boys who were at the scene—including Seonghwa. But you were obviously attracted to San. Obviously. And you would never let him know. The only problem was that the kiss had you hooked. He was way too good at it. The way he pushed himself to you as your lips locked. The way he had combed your hair back during the kiss. The way he had you cornered.

Just like right now.

“Do you want to go find him?” San asks after a moment of silence. You can’t identify if he was being sarcastic or genuine but you decide to play along. “Why not? I’m giving him a piece of my mind for drenching me like this”, you reply, tugging the collar of the tank top, and San’s eyes fall right onto your chest. Oh dear. You forgot about that.

San smiles and puts his hand out for you to take, and you do. “Won’t you get swarmed by fans walking out in the open like this?” He shakes his head. “We got a staff shortcut.”

His grip was firm yet gentle, as if he didn’t want to let you go, not yet. Your heart continuously beats, and you worry that San could hear it at any point of time now.

The both of you reach a more quiet and isolated space at the festival, in front of a trailer. It probably is the band’s trailer. San unlocks the door and invites you in.

Of course, Seonghwa wasn’t there. You already knew. He obviously was not going to let you meet Seonghwa. You hear the sound of the door being closed and locked. Instead of panicking, you turn to the couch and sit, making yourself comfortable. “Where’s Hwa?” You provoke. San only inches closer. There’s a glint of guilt that flashes in his eyes for a moment.

“I lied. I’m sorry” He admits, as he brushes his hair back. “Do you really like him that much?” Fuck, he’s so cute when he’s soft like that.

“What if I say I do?”

An expression of hurt flashes across his face for a moment. Or was it jealousy?

He pouts, and it sends your heart into a spiral. Was he the same dude drenched and smirking on stage like 15 minutes ago?

“Really?” He confirms, stepping closer. You feel your breath hitch.

“No”, you plaster a smile, “I lied too”

This automatically puts a smile on San’s face. His hair was partially dried, so was his tank. It was still damp and the fabric still clings onto his chest. You swallow. Not to mention up close and personal.

“Hey y/n, I couldn’t stop thinking about you ever since the pub” and that leaves your face flushing. The only thing that flashes through your mind was how fucking good he feels in your mouth. “You tasted so unforgettable.”

“Can we go further than that?” He pursues, this time right in front of you. He tilts in, trying to close the distance between the both of you. But at that moment, the couch suddenly vibrates. The both of you jump at the sensation. You crawl to the position of where you phone (which was in your bag) was lying, and San stays put at where he’s at, his gaze following your movements.

You pull out your phone from your bag, and the phone lights up with your friend’s caller ID. You look up at San. “Excuse me for a moment”, you say and put the phone up to your ear as you slide to answer. Your friend asks you where are you, and that she’s out of the toilet.

“I’m…in the middle of something”, you reply, your eyes darting to San, who’s staring at you intently. “I’ll call you when I’m done. Enjoy the rest of the festival!” Your friend laughs and replies with an “okay!” before hanging up. You lower your phone from your ear and stuff it back into your bag. The moment you turn your head, San closes the distance between the both of you, hungry and needy. His lips pressing yours, gently pushing his tongue in to part your lips.

There it is—this feeling of fireworks just going off in your head when he kisses you like that. You almost go giddy as you feel your lower abdomen flutter in pleasure. Fuck this feels so good. You intertwine your fingers against his bright red locks of hair and tug a little in case you fall somewhere. This only elicits a soft moan out of San, and pulls back for a moment, his lips now red and swollen from kissing you hard. His eyes look slightly glazed and you can’t imagine how you are looking—you just know you want him to start fucking you right about now. He leans his head towards your neck and starts peppering your neck with kisses, sending jolts down your spine, and your pussy. Goosebumps scatter throughout your skin as you felt something loosen—your bikini top. The clothing piece falls limply as the knot gets undone by San, and with a swift motion, he tugs the bikini top by the string and down it goes, removed from beneath your shirt. You feel the tank top fabric stick to your nipples and the sensation makes you gasp a little. San only continues to trail his kisses down to your tits and when he gets there, he lifts the hem of your top up, letting it cling to the skin above your tits, and then sucks delicately on your right nipple. This only pools the area between your legs.

“Fuck.. San..” you barely manage out. San brings up his other hand and pinches your left nipple. Your hand goes to his hair and you tug again—this time from the pleasure jolting right between your legs. San moans again. He removes his lips and switches over to the left nipple. This pushes out a moan on your end. Oh my god, his tongue feels so good.

You continue to brush his hair back in pleasure as he licks and sucks in your nipple like some kind of candy. Suddenly he removes his hands and lips entirely, leaving you gasping at the lack of touch.

“Remove your sandals” San instructs, and you kick them off easily. He shifts his position so that you’re seated on his lap, straddling him, and that’s when you realise his hard on just pressing against your pussy. That just excites you even more.

San smoothes his palms up and down you—from your chest—not forgetting to play with your nipples—all the way to your thighs—dangerously close to your cunt. “So what do you want me to do, y/n?”, he asks, almost in a whisper, since his face is so close to yours.

Your eyes gaze to his damp shirt and you brush your hands against his nipples. San whimpers in surprise, and you feel his cock harden even more beneath you. His eyes open slightly as his head tilts back a little. “Do you like teasing me that much?”

You smile in reply. “I can’t help it if every part of you is fuckable.” And that kind of snaps something in San. He goes in for another needy kiss and this time your tits rub against his chest through the thin and wet fabric, causing you to moan in between kisses. You also start to grind your hips against his, desperate for some skin.

San pauses the make out session, leaving you half lidded and breathing heavily. It was starting to be difficult to cling onto any sense of sanity left. You feel him reaching for his pants and unbuckling, he’s acting like he’s doing it steadily but it’s evident that he’s rushing to let his cock spring out. Another hand slides to your pussy, and he pushes the sweat shorts aside, along with your panties—right to your clit.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already y/n” he breathes out. “I can’t wait to fuck you”. He bites his lip as he rubs your clit. His other hand grabs yours and has you rub him off—his cock at a significant length, but more on the girthy side. How the hell is that gonna fit in you.

He continues to rub your clit in slow, circular motions and you could barely focus on pumping San out. Each flick felt like a tickle that only thinned your sanity even more, the jolts of pleasure coming in non-stop. “…so good” you barely manage out. “Keep doing that San”.

The knot in your stomach tugs from the pleasure and you feel it building rapidly. You are definitely not going to survive this. It feels like fucking heaven. San continues to kiss your neck and suck on your skin, littering your shoulders with faint, red marks, adding into the pleasure even more. He continues to encourage you to keep up moaning, because it’s making him feel amazing too and whatever else. You were feeling too good to process his sweet nothings.

That was when you feel your climax reaching. Your legs trembling slightly as San’s fingers brushed against your nub once more, the feeling growing more intense by the second.

“Ah fuck-“you cry out. “S-san-“ All he does is continue to flick your clit. By now you let go of his cock because your focus was out of the window, only staring right into San’s gorgeous eyes, half lidded as he wraps his fingers around your neck. Oh fuck. You feel it building.

“San, I’m coming-“you whine, over and over as your body shakes in pleasure, your eyes rolling back as San now presses against your clit, sending even more shockwaves through your system. He lets your ride out your orgasm.

“You look so pretty when you come”, San whispers as he removes his hand from your name and combs back your hair. “We’re not done yet though.” Before you could reply, he pushes the fabric of your pants and panties further to the side, taking your hand and having you hold the pants to the side, your pussy exposed even more. It doesn’t take you long to realise what he’s trying to do and you start taking action. Lifting your hips up, your free hand holds San’s cock as you line up to your entrance, and then you push down, taking him in instantly.

FUCK. The pleasure jolts in you so much and you wonder if you can keep your eyes open as he fucks you. The overstimulation felt so amazing. His cock is buried deep inside you and it feels so fucking full. San gasps as well, his eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, y/n, you feel so good, squeezing me out like this”, he whimpers. You crash your lips into his, and he hungrily devours you. His moans mixed with yours as you start moving slowly, starting at a slow pace.

Moans start to fill the trailer, so do the sounds of wet skin slapping. Every time you ride and lift your pussy off his cock, you cry out in pleasure, only for San to slam you down, balls deep in you again. You lean in to his shoulder and kiss his neck in an effort to hold back your moans. His hands reach for your ass and he slaps it, the sound bouncing off the walls, and you jumping before sinking right back into his dick.

“You take me so well”, he whispers in your ear. “I can’t wait to start fucking you everywhere. Then you’ll be only thinking of me”. His possessiveness only turning you on a little more.

Just then, the door suddenly knocks. The both of you freeze for a moment. The tapping continues. “San, are you there? Manager needs us in fifteen.”

It was Seonghwa. San suddenly lifts you off his lap and cock before turning you over to face the door. Your heartbeat quickens. What the hell is he trying to do? Before you could protest, he slips his cock right back into you, and you go limp, falling back to his chest and head supported by his shoulders. He fucks you with your legs open like that. “There he is, your little crush. If he has the key and unlocks the door, he’s gonna see you like this. What would Hwa think?” San presses. He’d think you were a whore, being fucked out, balls deep by Choi San.

“He’s not my crush. You are. I love how fuck me like this”, you cry out softly, still bouncing off his cock. You don’t know what washed over you to confess that but it already slipped out. San pauses for a second, and you feel him smile, you also feel his cock grow in your pussy. “Yeah sure! I’ll be there!” San strains. The footsteps shuffle away, and your heartbeat starts to slow down.

“Really?” San asks, both of his hands flicking your nipples. Fuck, you can’t answer, not like this. “Yes. San, please, don’t stop” you confirm. San bites your ear gently as he pounds into you. God, your face must be looking so fucked and glazed over.

You feel his movements getting erratic and sloppier. “I’m close”, he exhales. His hands travel down to your thighs as he strokes them gently.

“Please”, you whine. “You can release in me”. And that snaps whatever sanity San had left as he fucks right into you and paints your insides with his cum. He keeps moaning in your ears about how good your pussy feels, how he’s going insane. He slowly pulls out and shudders at the overstimulation from emptying out in you. Cum trickles down your pussy and that sight almost made him hard again. Almost.

San puts you aside as he reaches out for a box of tissues to clean yourself up with. He also reaches out to clean your pussy up when he’s done wiping down his dick.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” San asks, stroking your head. You shake your head as you hand him the used tissues. He lifts up your shirt, which makes you squeal in surprise.

“Hold your shirt up. I’m tying your top back on,” he assures. He fits bikini over your chest and knots the string to tighten it. The butterflies are back in your stomach as you feel his touch. He walks over to the bin and throws the tissues and washes his hands over at the sink. You follow him over and wrap your arms around his waist, which takes him by surprise. “I’m still pretty soaked you know” he says. You laugh, snuggling against his back even more.

“Will I see you again?” you ask, reluctant to let go. You know it would be difficult because he was an idol, and you were just someone else. He lifts your arms off him, turns around, and fits your arms around his waist again, this time facing you. He just looks so fucking good from every angle. He could put the Greek Gods to shame.

San smiles at you and presses a soft kiss onto your forehead, you completely melt under his touch. “I might be a little busy because of scheduling but during my pockets of free time, I’ll find you.” He takes your hand towards the trailer door. He unlocks the door and pushes it ajar, checking if the coast is clear. He pushes the door wider, and you follow him. The both of you walk hand in hand for awhile until he lets go.

“I’ll be off first. See you around y/n. That was an amazing time with you”, he smiles, and you see a tint of pink colouring across his tanned skin. You take his hand and kiss his palm. “See you”, you reply. He pulls you into a hug and your heart flutters again. Another kiss planted on your forehead and he waves goodbye before disappearing.

Oh dear. Looks like you’re head over heels for sure.