#his life SUCKS... why is it like this? he's cursed!!;

[iceemochaa]

WHO KNEW?

Remmick X Reader

A/N: Heyyyyyy, did somebody ask for Remmick Riding Fic??

I want to say thank you to my pookie @fuckoffbard for giving me this idea. She gave me her blessings to write something that was self indulgent and I wanted to deliver it with love. It took me a while to write and I’m so glad I kept picking at it until it all made sense on paper. Lemme go finish my other 5 fics now. Enjoy :)

Warning: MDNI, No use of name or Y/n, reader insert, Reader isnt described, Riding, fem Reader, AFAB, Creampie, slight breeding if you squint, slight blood play, kissing, kissing with blood, Remmick uses his claws maybe once or twice, cursing, dirty talk, P in V (lowkey what’s the difference), Remmick cries cause I love men being pathetic. Slight Cervix fucking if you squint. If you see any grammar or punctuation mistakes, no you didn’t :)

Word Count:3.6 k

The rapid beats of your heart echoes through your ears, your lips begging for you to stop chewing so harshly. It's only been a few short minutes since Remmick had worked his hands all over you— Freeing you of your clothing, tossing them carelessly in a pile somewhere. He whispered dirty things that he promises he’ll do to you— Soon, later, it didn't matter. All you knew was that Remmick was a man of his words.

He had you pressed against him, chest to chest so that he could breathe you in, Rub his scent right against yours. There's light red hickeys along your neck and arms— something Remmick did when he got all worked up, sucking your skin in his mouth to keep from inserting his fangs. Sometimes he went a little overboard, applying too much pressure until your skin underneath turned a deeper shade.

Currently you looked like a painter's canvas that was going through the rough draft stage; Hints of purple and shades of red painted all over your body. You didn't mind— You liked how considerate he was, never too hard but enough to make you feel, even if you did want him to go further.

For now, This was fine.

When he was done marking your body, soothing kisses placed above the marks— feeling almost satisfied, He tossed you on top of him and got real cozy under your weight. He used his slick tone and smooth voice to ask a simple question that left you paralyzed. A question that your brain has been mulling over and over. It wasn't anything bad— well, maybe to you but Remmick hasn't stopped smirking. He looked like a shark, all teeth and beady black eyes and you were the unfortunate fish that was soon to be his dinner.

“Why don't you Ride me darlin’? .” He said with such an enthusiastic drawl.

Since then you've been in a state of panic. Sure, you've done a lot of things with Remmick that you're too embarrassed to admit out loud but your body still reacts the same— it tingles and gets all warm and mushy when he has you pressed against him, with deep kisses lingering on your lip but this? This right here with your full weight sitting on top of his lap is too much.

“What if I hurt you?” you say in a small whisper but Remmick can hear you just fine. He simply looks at you with a hungry stare, He’s watching you, trying to gauge your reaction. Its the look he usually does when he devotes his full attention to you, shifting ever so slightly under.

“Hurt me? Darlin’ you could never.” he chuckles, tracing soothing circles on the side of your hip but then he quickly adds in, “Trust me, I've been through worse.”

“What's worse than this?” You ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

Remmick stops drawing circles to pinch the fat of your thigh lightly, “Besides burning in the sun?” he takes a few seconds to really search his brain for all the times he had to either catch prey or defend his life. Some of those moments really took a lot out of him, sometimes he couldn’t move for days but there was one thing that still gets his brain turning and his teeth aching with burning rage.

“...Maybe being hit with a guitar.”

A singular brow raises against your forehead. “Is that really true?”

“Now your tryin’ to change the topic.”

“Remmick, please, don't make me do this.”

“m’not making you do anythin’,” his says so innocently, making sure to sprinkle in an extra thick southern accent that gets your mind racing. “I'm just enjoying the view from down here, is all.” he says, “If you want to do something then your free to do as you please.”

”O-Oh okay…”

Sensing your hesitation, Remmick shifts your weight so he can sit up, his face only a few inches away. He plants a kiss right against your cheek, it's short and sweet, nothing but burning love flowing. He adds more, moving his lips lower until it reaches your collarbone then he stops to look at you once more through hooded eyes. “You don’t need to be nervous around me, sugar.” He says against your skin then shifts his head back up so his breath can fan against your face. “We've done far worse.” he says plain as day, the worse being even more freakier things he likes to suggest.

“I’ll gladly accept anything you do to me. You could never hurt me.”

“Are you sure?” You ask once more. Insecurity and fear was a glowing white beacon above your head. You believed Remmick, fully and completely, you just didn’t believe in yourself. What if you suck at it? What if he tells you that he changed his mind about this idea and shoves you off? What if he actually doesn’t like it and he fakes an orgasem? It sounds real childish but it could happen. You would rather indulge in those impossible sex positions he likes to purpose whenever he gets way too in his head.

You shake your head, hoping these feelings would somehow remove themselves from your brain. “You know what, maybe we can do this again later-“

Remmick clicks his tongue in slight annoyance, “Hold on now, Don’t give me that talk.” He chastises you but you can hear the softness in his tone. He wasn’t upset, not at all. An easy going smile, soothing hands, a soft hum. He wanted you to know that this was all fine.

Great even.

“Look, If you want,” he says in a sultry lilt, “I can do that thing with my tongue you like so much right after.”

Huh?

“You know, the one where I lick right up agaisnt-“

“Remmick, Shut up.” You sigh.

“Yes Ma’am.”

Well, here goes nothing.

To build some confidence you figured kissing would be a good start— It was easy and you didn’t have to think so hard about it. You wrap your arms around his neck, hands sliding into the back of his head to feel how soft his hair was. Remmick simply hums, leaning into the touch– almost like a cat. Slowly, You ghost your lips over his, your hand tugging his hair back just slightly so he was forced to look up at you. You can see something deep and primal in his eyes, like he was waiting for you to do this. Have him underneath you, have you take the lead.

You watch as Remmicks eyes glide across your face and slowly land on your mouth, his tongue peeking out to lick across his bottom lip like he was starving— He was always starving for you. You can tell by the way drool builds up in the corner of his mouth, his lips opening and closing like a fish. Like he needed air and the only air he wanted was you.

“Your drooling baby.” You note with a grin, observing the way it slowly drips down onto his chest. Remmick merely smirks, his hand coming up to cup your face in a soft embrace.

“That I am.” He says.

You press your lips right against his, You can hear Remmick breathing in your scent. His tongue pressing against your lips, asking for permission to taste you further. When you do let him in, he wastes no time to explore your mouth, his moan vibrating through you with sloppy sounds mixed with drool. Remmicks hand roams around your skin to keep him grounded. He was trying his best not to take control— have you take the lead but it was getting harder. You tasted so divine.

You glide both of your hands up his shoulders and push him down easily. He follows your lead without hesitation. Once you have him pressed against the bed, you finally break the kiss to plant light pecks on his cheek then slowly work your way towards his neck until you reach the shell of his ear. A low groan erupts from his throat when you suck his earlobe, your teeth working its way to tugging and nipping the shell of his ear soon after.

“Shit— where’d you learn that?” Remmick gasps softly.

“I have a good teacher.” You whisper in his ear, heat building on your cheeks, your nerves slowly turning into want and need— Enjoying the way the roles are slowly reversing. It’s usually him making you squirm and get all flushed but now he’s the one coming undone. You pull back to give him a once over, getting one more confirmation that this was 100% alright. Remmick simply nods his head.

“Well?” He says, “don’t stop now.”

You got this, you chant into your head over and over. He’s okay with it. It’s perfectly fine. Just move.

So you do.

You lift up to grab his weeping cock, feeling the way it burns in your hand. You heard a low groan shutter through the air— His chest starts to move quicker, his eyes growing wider, his fingers pressing deeper into your soft skin now. He didn't have to say anything but his body sure loves to talk— You can feel his muscle fidget under the palm of your hand that’s being pressed against his stomach, The growing anticipation too much to bear. You look towards him for any hints of discomfort, Maybe another confirmation that this was a totally bad idea but he's too busy watching the way his cock is getting closer and closer to where he really wants to be.

Okay, you got this.

He said it was fine, right? You take deep breaths, slowly guiding yourself down until the tip presses against your folds. You're already so wet, practically dripping due to Remmick playing with you earlier before this whole internal conflict started. He glides in so smoothly, entering into your warmth inch by inch. The pain of how big he is completely long gone and now masked with desire.

A small hiss slips from Remmicks mouth, his brows furrowing. “That’s it, nice and slow.” He says. It doesn’t take long for you to be fully seated on his lap now. His hard cock snuggled right inside, right where it belonged.

You stop suddenly, fear brewing once more. “I can’t- fuck, it’s too much,“ you choke out, Your nails digging into his chest to keep yourself together.

“Yes you can— your doing it already.” He coos, like he's trying to calm a frightened animal.

Remmick draws light feathered circles against your skin, his eyes fully scanning your face now. “Darlin, Your doin’ so well,” he says tilting his head back just slight. Still watching you, still trying to calm you down, Your comfort being too important to him.

“Whenever your ready. Move those pretty hips for me.” he sighs softly, “I promise im not goin’ anywhere.”

Here goes nothing.

You finally grow some confidence and lift up slightly, testing the waters, Feeling the way his hand clenches to keep a tight hold on Your hips. He doesn’t want to let you go, you don’t want him too. You come back down slowly, feeling the way your walls grow tighter when he enters once more.

This feels different.

Not in a bad way.

Exciting, new, different.

It feels a little overwhelming at first, trying to make sure you're not dropping your full weight on him all while he’s nuzzled inside your cunt but slowly the burning need grows. You do it again, lifting up to come back down on his length. A soft moan leaving your lips at the sensation. It’s usually Remmick who’s taking the reins; the one finding pleasure for you, Moving at his own accord when he wants. He'll find a rhythm that gets his stomach pooling with heat, a position that has your muscles burning, your mind ditzy.

Now?

You're the one holding the reins, Taking control. Before you know it, you're riding him in slow paces. Your hands pressed against his chest to support yourself— hips grinding down so you can find that slight, hot, burn that makes your stomach churn.

Remmick has his hands tight around your waist, his hold almost bruising. You both don’t say anything, nothing but the low grunts and moans echoing throughout the room. For the first time Remmick isn’t talking his head off— too lost in the pleasure, His eyes pinned to the constant exposure of his cock entering your cunt.

Perhaps you should do this more often, you think.

Soon enough the nervousness begins to wash away into pleasure and your moving faster. The sounds of skin on skin begin to mix into the air. You can feel warmth pooling down from your chest and slowly creeping its way to where you're connected to Remmick, like someone lit a fire under a stove. Your hips were being bruised by his hold, his fingers pressing into your skin. The more you ride him the more you start to take note that his claws are lightly scraping against your skin, leaving unruly red marks. They don’t dig in enough to bleed but you can feel them cementing themselves— A reminder that you made Remmick come undone.

“Sugar, m’close, so so close…” Remmick Whines under his breath, his voice dipping into a higher pitch. While his voice only stirs you on, You can’t help but stare at the way his fangs peeks out between his lips, how his tongue presses against them and then lulls out between them.

“Gonna- mhmm - I’m gonna, fuckkkk. Baby-“

“Not yet,” You groan, stopping to grind down hard, making sure he knows he won’t get a reward if he doesn’t listen. “Not until I say so.” You reprimand him.

Remmick throws his head back, a deep rumble echoing through his chest. You can feel the muscles under his skin tense, his hips practically jump in anticipation.

“m’sorry…” Remmick whines, “Please, I’ll be good.“ Pathetic cries begin pooling from his mouth, his head nodding away from the pure bliss he was experiencing.

“I don’t know…” you say offhandedly.

”Fuck, please, I’ll be good! Just— faster.” He begs, He looked good like this, all desperate and pathetic like. Almost like you’ve been withholding this from him for centuries. To think all it took was riding him like there was no tomorrow.

You watch as his eyes shut close, his breathing becoming unsteady. his fangs peeking out to brush against his bottom lip.

“You overwhelmed baby?”

Remmick bobs his head, sucks in a breath when you slam back down.

“Look at me.” You coo softly.

Remmicks glowing red eyes snap towards your own and what a glorious sight it was.

His ruby eyes half lidded but filled with adoration for you. His chest glistening with sweat and some other substance that you're sure is the copious amount of drool that’s been pooling from the corner of his mouth. How delicious he looked, hair tousled and chest heaving in rapid succession.

“Aren’t you a sight.” You chuckle.

“Please Darlin’ m’not gonna last any longer.”

How cute, you think, Remmick who’s always boasting and teasing you for crying and whining that it’s too much and yet he can’t handle it either.

“How about you beg me darlin. Tell me how much this pussy makes you cry.”

Remmicks eyes widen for a moment, His mouth gaping open like a fish. You swear you can hear the gears turning in his pretty little head. His cock throbs inside of you so good it makes your thighs clench around his waist.

“Your doing so…so, so—fuck, I can’t-“ He sobs in broken syllables.

You fingertips glides down the front of his chest, slowly working its way until it stops on his stomach and you press down slightly. “Yes you can, your almost there.”

“I— mhmm, baby, feels so good—“

“That’s it, keep going.”

”Your so perfect— fuck! made just f’me. Never want to let you go—“

You lean down so that your breath fans against his ear when you say, “You want to come inside?”

Remmicks entire body almost lifts off the bed.

“Yes! please!— wanna pump you full, gonna fucking— shit,” he sobs out loud, “Pussy feels so good, made just for me.”

You speed up once more, the sounds of skin connecting and moans mingled together brings hot fire straight into your core— you're getting so close too, his cocking hitting so deep inside it almost makes your eyes roll back. You figured this would be the time to push your limits— have him come undone with tears in his eyes instead. What a pretty sight it would be, a memory you won’t hesitate to bring again later when he says something smart about the roles reversing back.

“You can do better than that.” You say, testing the waters. “Show me how much you want to cum.”

Remmick doesn’t hesitate to follow your orders, his hips lifting so he can meet your rhythm. His hands moving to squeeze your ass— his claws digging into your skin, holding purchase, using your body to bring him to a climax he desperately needs. You can tell he was close, his hips faltering and then picking up again. He’s practically pounding into you, a speed so inhuman that it makes your pussy numb with pleasure.

God, if he kept going like this— his cock pistoning into your cervix once more, you're going to be sore for days. Wobble on your legs like a newborn dear but you won’t complain. Not when the view of Remmick’s blissed out face will be imprinted in your memory.

“N-Now?” he whines, turning his head to suck a deep mark into your shoulders. His nose tucked into your neck once more. You can feel his fangs brush over your skin just slight, his legs tensing everytime they brush against your thighs and the best part of all? The delicious sound of Remmick pounding into you.

“Y-Yeah, fuck— do whatever you want baby. You earned it.”

Remmick thrusts up into your core a few more times, loud moans echos through the room and he cums right inside of you. Pumping you full, making sure he paints the inside of your cunt white. He doesn’t pull out, no, he wants to make sure your filled to the brim. Nothing but him occupying your cunt from the inside out.

“Ohhh—so tight, mhmmm” he cries into your skin, “I’m— fuckkk!” You can hear a slight hiss afterwards, his forehead pressing into your shoulders. Suddenly you feel warm liquid coat your chest, his mouth gliding along your shouder.

When you turn to look at him, you catch a glimpse of red slide down his chin. He was holding back from biting you— the moment too much for him to handle, his fangs practically pierced through his bottom lip.

“You okay?”

Remmick simply nods, too dazed to give a coherent response anyways. You can’t help but eye his lips once more, watch the way fresh blood pools against his skin. The sight of him all bloody and messy makes your pussy clench around him and he groans.

Without thinking, Your hand wraps around his chin to pull him close, your mind racing with nothing but the need to claim him once more. An idea crosses your mind, something you’ve always dreamed of doing and now was the perfect time to act on it. You squeeze his chin softly, leaning down to plant your lips against his, the muscle bloody and almost swollen but you didn’t care.

The taste of iron and drool only makes the craving grow.

Soon enough your teeth come down to replace the indent of his fangs, biting down hard— making sure another wound opens on his lips and then you just tug. Sucking in his bottom lip, the taste of his blood intoxicating.

You let it go, watch as his lip snaps back into place and Remmick almost howls— his hips jerking up into your cunt, his hands shooting to cup your face.

“Fuck, do it again.” He whines into your mouth.

You comply easily, the taste of him is too good to ignore. You press your teeth down In another untouched area and bite down again, until a fresh new wound cuts open his skin, the flow of blood and spit dribbles out from your kiss.

You swear you can hear Remmick purr against your hand.

When you both part your lips, A long drawn out moan leaves between you two— A spit line follows along until it disconnects when you lean back unto his lap again. You can feel the swell inside, his cocked nuzzled deep into your cervix, right where he belongs. When you finally feel like you’ve had your fill of everything Remmick gives you, his entire being devoted and at your mercy, you sit up slowly.

Remmick hums lowly, his breathing at its regular pace again. He looked fucked up but satisfied completely, a goofy grin laying on his face. He looks down to watch the aftermath, The tip of his cock popping out to reveal an overflow of his cum—it practically spills from your cunt, drooling right back on his pelvis.

“You did so well hun.” You say, teasing and soft, copying the warm southern tone he likes to soothe you with. Who knew you had it in you to reduce Remmick to a weeping mess?

Remmick smiles happily at you, sucking in his bottom lip to taste the spit that lingers from your heavy kiss. His hands moving up to massage your hips. He feels the indents in your skin, the pads of his fingers tracing the lines over and over.

You can get used to this, you think.

“Wanna go again?” you smile.

“Yes please.”

[caitlinsnicket]

bob reynolds relationship headcanons part. 4

warnings: smut under the cut, nothing too crazy

a/n: i'm obssessed with him. it's not funny anymore. enjoy

masterlist | 🍉 | ko-fi | part. 1 | part. 2 | part. 3

you feel like a creep when you realize you've been staring at his throat for too long, and it's even worse when he catches you doing it. at this point in your relationship, he's way more relaxed about your affection, so even if he blushes a little at how much want is in your eyes, he still gives you that little lopsided smile and asks if there's something on his face (even if he knows you were just ogling him).

and when you get tired of just looking, the obvious next step is to get as close to him as you possibly can and get your hands and face on his neck: you trace it with your fingers, ignoring the obvious shiver that runs through him, and kiss your favorite spots (like the juncture of his shoulder and neck, his adam's apple, that spot behind his ear that makes him whine). he lets you play with him as much as you want, his hands wandering softly under your shirt and over your thighs, happy sighs and chuckles indicating that he'd like for you to keep going, please.

and when you're feeling a little bolder and all you want is to wreck him, your hips shift over his and you suck marks all over his pretty, sensitive skin, and all he can do is either hold on for dear life or beg a little. you pull away a bit and look at your work, his eyes glazed over and his neck starting to get those purple marks that he loves so much. you can't help but give in and kiss him all over his face next. the adoration in his eyes is enough to make you shift your entire behavior, and he's always secretly confused because a second ago you were ready to jump his bones and now you're just... soft? not that he minds! but he does wonder about it (he has no idea).

when he marks your neck instead and you show it around other people like it's no big deal (no, like you're proud of it) he gets a little high on that simple display of casualness, and more often than not he'll drag you somewhere empty and kiss you silly, until you're breathless and your legs are a little wobbly, while he looks like the proudest man alive. you like this side of bob, the one that is bold and silly and happy.

one time you tell him that you're too lazy to get up and go to sleep in the bed, so he picks you up and takes you there. you don't mention it, but your heart races, because it's easy to forget how strong he actually is. so one day, you're on his lap kissing him breathless, and you whisper in his ear that you'd like for him to do it again. he gets your legs to circle his waist and doesn't stop kissing you, and you swear to god you almost pass out.

every now and then he'll hold you down or press you against surfaces just because he feels like it, but it also reminds you of how strong he actually is. you can't help but shiver when he holds your neck in place while kissing you, not squeezing, just resting his hands on your skin.

when you notice he's getting restless during a meeting or something akin to a fight (which is happening less often than it used to), you drag him to an empty room before the lights start to flicker and ask him what he needs. sometimes he wants to be alone in the quiet, sometimes he wants a tight hug, and sometimes he wants to get himself inside of you and fuck you until he forgets why he was getting angry. it usually ends up with you propped up against a wall with your pants around your ankles and him panting on your neck, mumbling curses and biting his lips. what truly breaks you is how one of his hands always soothes your back, like he can't help but be careful with you even when he's being rough.

there's this really funny thing that happens every now and then where he sneezes when he cums. it doesn't happen all the time, but when it does he gets embarrassed and tells you to stop laughing at him, but it's too funny: at one point he's bucking his hips into your mouth, on the other he's brushing his nose with his hand. it's honestly endearing, but his neck gets all red when you tease him about it.

the first time you sucked him off, he was so quiet you were worried he wasn't enjoying it. then you looked up: both his hands around his mouth, eyes shut tightly and cheeks flushed. you stopped until he promised to relax. from then on, he's a brat, bucking his hips into your mouth, whining that he needs it wetter, that he wants to come in your mouth and make you all messy. but he's still too endearing for his own good, holding your hair back from your face, being careful not to hurt your throat, and thanking you every now and then.

he likes it when you kiss him right after he comes on your mouth. makes his head dizzy.

[mich-vanadis]

KPDH AU where Baby survived out of the Saja Boys hear me out (Also includes my own and other's headcanons)

We technically didn't see Baby and Romance getting killed so this is me being delusional but also killing off Romance because I like seeing my favorites suffer (sorry Baby <3)

ANYWAY after the Honmoon is sealed and Gwi-Ma is defeated, Baby's demonic powers disappeared and fell into some kind of coma when he got his soul back. Sussie and Derpy (Jinu's pets) found him before the Huntrix did and took him to Rumi's and Jinu's old meeting place to rest. When Baby woke up and found out about the rest of the boys' deaths, he sucked up his emotions and went to the only people who can MAYBE help him with his current situation.

To say the girls weren't surprised is an underestimate, Zoey was sure he killed the guy but Baby is standing right in front of them. On their balcony. With a demon tiger and a demon bird next to him. Although reluctantly, they took Baby under their wing and had to make an excuse to Bobby why exactly Baby Saja of the Saja Boys is in their building. Besides, it's not like he can do anything without his powers. The girls were still a little warry of him but they eventually soften up and start knowing about each other.

They found out that outside of his Idol Persona, he's VERY chaotic and maniac like. He started making harmless pranks once they settled in a more even page.

Zoey hit it off with Baby first and it went pretty well. They became instatnt bestfriends when they found out that they actually have a lot in common other than being the rapper and maknae of their respective groups. Outside of the music industry, they'd go aroung shopping for cute clothes and accessories. And in a personal prespective, they know what it's like to not know where they belong.

Rumi and Baby bonded in grief about Jinu, she also let him talk about the rest of his friends. Baby would tell her crazy stories they did together when they first became an actual friend group years ago, how they'd create trouble and pranks for shits and giggles because those were the first times Gwi-Ma's voice couldn't get into them.

Baby was shunned and outcasted by his family and village because of his eyes. He had natural slit pupils and since he came from maybe hundreds of years ago, they saw him as cursed or associated with an evil spirit. And because of that, Baby gained a rather harsh and rash personality just to protect himself. That's how Mira found out that she and Baby weren't so different when it comes to being shunned by people who were suppose to care for you. She respected him even more after that conversation and understood his behavior.

Eventually, the girls learned about Baby's real name. Daeun (thank you for your service @/filijester🙏). He blurted it out during a movie night when Rumi called his stage name if he wanted more pop corn. The girls were delighted that Baby-sorry Daeun- trusted them enough for him to tell them his real name. (Zoey cried and hugged the life out of him)

And as for the SB Fans raging in the internet wanting to know what happened to the Saja Boys, Daeun simply told them that they were going on an Indefinite Hiatus because of an "argument". Besides what's he suppose to say? Oh yeah we were actually demons who wanted to feast on your souls but the Huntrix stopped us because they're demon hunters and I'm somehow the only one who survived out of all of us.

He still upload solos and sometimes even collabs with Huntrix. He really likes being an idol. He also made a song to subtley honor his members deaths.

When Celine found out about Daeun and his friendship with Rumi, Mira, and Zoey, she wasn't exactly happy but she wasn't exactly upset either. He's not a demon anymore so she thinks it's alright. (The girls got her to warm up to him though, mainly thanks to Rumi). But since it came to this, she made him train under her to become an honorary Hunter. And, in her words "While he can stand his ground, it's better to be safe than sorry."

Also, Saja Boys are actually alive and found out their youngest believes that they're dead and is trying to live his new human life to the fullest through Sussie and Derpy. They made it their mission to find Baby and reunite with him once again.

(They also saw the song Baby made to honor them, they all cried)

[yaekiss]

𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆?

꩜ Room Content: GN! Dom! Reader x Male! Sub! Sydney the Faithful, no gendered terms for reader, no mention of reader's anatomy, prostate milking (Sydney receiving), fingering and use of sex toy (Sydney receiving), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: def tried making this smut fic a lot more lovely-dovey than my usual ones as per the donator's req! hopefully it doesn't come across as too cringy/cheesy >< !! and thank you to the donator for being so niceys and understanding <33 once again, "800-1500 words" qi says. harharhar (2.5k words orz...) ANYWAYS hope you like the fic and thank you so much for donating !!!!!!! ꩜ This was written as part of my Care for a Fic fundraising event for Gaza! If you would to request a fic of your own, do check out the linked event post above ^^

Sydney supposes that there are stranger things than working in a sex toy shop (that's owned by your parent) with your partner. However, these things aren't really coming to mind when there's a patron who's definitely oversharing about their Friday night plans while he's trying to check out their items at the cash register. 

“I've read rave reviews about this model online from people who've bought it before. I can't wait to try it out and y'know, see how many it can wring outta me,” they continue to ramble on cheerily as Sydney tries to key in another product code manually for the umpteenth time today. (Curse you broken barcode scanner.)

“Maybe I'd even beat my personal best of-” The grating sound of the receipt printer working cuts the patron off. 

“Oh oops, my bad, feel free to forget everything I said!” The patron quips with a hearty laugh. “I really do overshare too much sometimes. Thanks for not cutting me off, huh. And for ringing me up.”

Whistling as they leave, the patron finally heads out of the shop, leaving a poor Sydney to stew in silence alone with everything he's heard for the past few minutes.

Unfortunately for him, Sydney does more than stew in silence for the rest of his shift. He finds himself staring off into space while daydreaming about certain activities more often than not, causing the diligent blond you know to make some rather uncharacteristic fumbles. Namely, bumping into your back whenever he follows behind you into the inventory room to restock merchandise. Or accidentally mistyping product codes repeatedly at the cash register.

Concerned about your lover's distracted state today, you pull him into the privacy of the inventory room when the both of you go for a quick break.

“You alright out there? You seem pretty out of it today Syd,” you start off, voice tinged with worry.

“Huh?” Sydney tilts his head before his brain catches up and he processes your question. 

“If you're tired, I could cover for you today while you rest up,” you offer.

You really are too sweet, he thinks. Worried that he might be tired when, in actual fact, he's been too busy thinking about you wringing out orgasm after orgasm from him until he's milked within an inch of his life. 

Heat rushes to his face when he realises that he should probably confess the truth to you in order to reassure you that nothing's wrong. Sucking in a deep breath, he starts rattling off the whole story a mile a minute, eyes trained anywhere except on you.

“...So that's why I've been so distracted and it's because all I can think about is you. Or your hands on me. Or your fingers in me! Whichever works! Ah I've said too much!” 

The silence that drags on after his near incoherent rambling is unbearable. When he finally hazards a glance back up at you to gauge your reaction, he certainly didn't expect you to look this interested.

“Let's ask if Sirris will let me stay over in your room tonight.” 

The remainder of the shift passes by in a blur with the prospect of what's about to happen later on. When the both of you clamber into the back seat of Sirris' car after closing up shop, you politely broach the topic of a sleepover with Sydney. And when they agree, you feel Sydney reach over and give your hand a light squeeze, a shy grin on his face.

“Why don't you shower first and get ready while I prepare?” Shooting him a reassuring look, he kisses you on the cheek before heading off to the bathroom. 

After getting everything ready and establishing a safeword, you instruct your lover to lie on the bed.

“Let me know if anything gets uncomfortable, yeah?” Reaching over to his bedside table, he hears you open a container of lube. Sydney waits with bated breath as you spread the thick substance around on your fingers, simultaneously warming it up. Once you've made sure that the lube isn't too cold, you also apply a generous amount to his entrance.

“Relax for me Syd.” He nods, inhaling before exhaling slowly. Your other clean hand goes to hold his as you massage the surrounding area for a bit. Eyes trained on his expression to monitor for any discomfort, you gingerly breach past his rim with a singular finger. Carefully, you slip more of your finger in, occasionally wiggling it and prodding around to loosen him up more. Each little movement causes Sydney to suck in a short breath, his gaze peering down at where you’ve entered him. Before long, you’re knuckle deep in him.

“Feels kind of strange,” he murmurs to you after you paused to let him adjust to the sensation, “but you can keep going.”

Your second finger enters without too much trouble and once more, you take it slow. After it's fully in, you start with some scissoring motions with both your fingers. This time, you get a bigger reaction out of him. You’re rewarded with the cutest breathy gasps and pants, and when you look back up at him, Sydney’s pupils are dilated whilst he sports a lovely light blush on the apples of his cheek. It’s a good look on him, one you’re keen to see unravel even more as the night progresses.

Belatedly, a thought occurs to him as it rises through the growing pleasing buzz in his brain, He dazedly realises that you’re probing around for something, the pads of your fingers dragging and tracing along his walls. It’s at that second, it hits him, in every sense of the phrase. Something akin to electricity shoots straight through him when your fingers find his prostate. Sydney gasps and jolts beneath you, eyes flying open at the foreign feeling, and that's when he notes how your eyes light up with a devious glint.

Wasting no time, you get to work, honing in on that spot. Immediately, you have your lover’s back arching off the bed as you rub and bully his prostate. Pitchy keening and moaning fills the room as you watch him begin to fall apart on your fingers. 

“Feeling good?”

“U-Uh huh…!” He nods dumbly, words suddenly starting to become too hard to string together.

The filthy squelching noises have him flushing all the way to the tips of his ears. When he squeezes down on your fingers, it's like everything feels too full, too good, too sinful. In the far back end of Sydney's brain, where he hasn't yet lost himself to the throes of pleasure, he realises that he's been grinding down on your fingers, chasing his own high mindlessly. For him to already be reduced to such a state this early on, he wonders how fast it'd take for you to completely ruin him tonight.

He feels the heat building up in him at the thought of placing himself wholly in your hands. Yours to wreck, yours to love. Only you could see this side of him. Sydney's pulse thunders in his ears, with every strategic movement of your fingers threatening to make him spill over at any moment now.

You know your lover well enough to spot the telltale signs that he's going to cum soon. The jagged, raspy groans, eyes rolling back before shutting tight, soft pants of please, please, please. Picking up the pace, you alternate between hitting his prostate dead on and rubbing circles into it. And when Sydney's whole body goes taut, his cock bobbing as white splatters onto his belly, a long, drawn-out moan ripped from his throat, you know you're done with your first round.

You’re gracious enough to let him recover for a bit, pulling your fingers out briefly to reapply another glob of lube onto them. During this downtime, Sydney manages to sluggishly peel open his eyes to peer up at you. Sweat causes his hair to stick to his forehead, but it doesn’t stop you from shifting over and leaning down to press a chaste kiss onto his flushed skin.

“You still with me?” Your clean hand goes to pet the crown of his head. He swears that if he could purr right now, he would.

“Yeah,” he says between languid lazy blinks, “I’m good. Thank you.”

With this confirmation, your two fingers return inside, drawing a breathy gasp from him at the sensation of being filled again. Additionally, you gradually try to fit one more finger in him to stretch him out even more, bringing the number up to three. Once you’ve made sure that he’s adjusted to the extra digit, you instantly resume the brutal pace you had earlier. Still sensitive from before, your dear blond blubbers and pleads for mercy, his head thrown back as he’s plunged back into pure ecstasy again without warning. 

“C'mon, you can give me another one Syd,” you coo out sweetly. The smile on your face is gentle. However, your ministrations are anything but. 

“Ungh! Ah, ah-!” You give him no respite from the growing pressure in him, working him just the way he likes. Always so attentive, eyes constantly watching all of him, learning what things makes him lose his mind. His thighs tense and he clenches tight around your fingers, losing himself to the euphoria clouding his mind.

He's shaking as another orgasm racks through him, eyes rolling into the back of his skull at the onslaught of pleasure. You're ruthless, he thinks, and that's exactly what he wanted.

Heavy panting fills the room as your dear Sydney tries to catch his breath but you don't give him a chance to. You pull your fingers out of him, eliciting a pitchy whine at the sudden loss, before it's quickly replaced by something else prodding at his rim.

Blearily, he looks down and sees that it's the toy that the patron had bought earlier, the exact brand and model they were rambling about. Turns out you swiped it from the inventory room while the both of you were closing up the shop. (“I'll just say we were testing out the shop's products. See if it was good enough to be stocked on the shelves,” you explain to Sydney the next morning.)

Slowly, you ease the toy into his hole after you applied a good amount of lube to it. It's just slightly thicker than the three fingers you had in him earlier, but the stretch doesn't hurt judging by how he's already subconsciously trying to fuck himself on it.

My, such an impatient lover you have here on your hands. But you suppose that this simply makes it easier to give him just what he wants. 

You continue pushing the toy in and angle it directly at the spot that he's trying to hit. His fingers grasp at the sheets underneath him as it ventures deeper within him. Sydney feels it all, the slow drag of the ribbed shaft against his walls, your thumb rubbing circles where you hold him at his waist.

When the tip of it bumps up against his prostate and starts vibrating? Sydney swears he sees heaven.

The effect that the toy has on him is immediate. As soon as you switched on the vibration function, all the breath was punched out of his chest. And the best thing was: It wasn't even on the highest setting yet.

“Ack! Too muh- hnn -much! No more!” Tears prick the corners of his eyes as he begs pitifully.

“You know the word to say to get me to stop Syd,” you say cupping his cheek gingerly. All he does is lean into your touch, nuzzling into your hand as if all he wants to do is to melt into you.  He cracks his eyes open, gazing at you with nothing but trust and adoration.

“Want me to keep going?” Your voice is impossibly tender and Sydney's heart pounds at the intimacy and affection of it all.

“Keep goin’, hah! Please!” He hears you laugh at his pleas and he doesn’t think he’s heard anything else more beautiful.

With his heightened sensitivity from all the previous rounds, it's not long before he's squirming, his mind melting into goo as the familiar heat within him is growing yet again. Instinctively, one of his hands shoots out and goes to find your unoccupied one, lacing your fingers together.

“Kiss me, p-please, please, ah! Needddd you!” Sydney's unintelligible babbling mixed with the whirring noises of the toy in him. Unshed tears glitter on his lower lashline, beautiful strawberry blond hair splayed out around him like some sort of divine angelic halo. How could you not want him, not need him?

Diving in for a kiss, he meets you halfway, his arms going to wrap around you tight as your lips crash together. He can’t believe he’s so lucky to be able to be yours. After holding back for so long, you’ve managed to coax out this side of him, introducing him to things he’s never even dared to want for. Perhaps, you truly were some sort of angel. One that, by chance, crash-landed into his life. One that’s loving enough to promise themselves to him, one that he can’t help but promise himself to.

“Hng! Love you! Looove y-you!” He all but slurs as he quickly approaches his peak. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, a string of unrestrained moans and muffled “Thank you! Love you!”s escape from your lover, punctuated by sharp hitches of airy gasps. It doesn’t take too long before his body is drawn taut as a bowstring, tongue lolling out from his mouth as he tips over the edge. As he rides out his high, Sydney grasps onto you like a lifeline, like he needs you to breathe. 

Turning the toy off, you let Sydney lay back down onto the bed before removing it from him and setting it aside. You give him a once over before smothering his face in kisses.

“You did really well, Syd,” a quick kiss pressed to his lips, “You with me? How’re you feeling?”

The hazy fog in his brain clears a bit and allows him to answer, “Mmm… Tired.” Lazily, he sits up, leaning against the headboard of the bed. You nudge a bottle of water into his hands, one which he very gratefully takes.

He downs half of the water, then bumps against your shoulder lightly, “You drink some too. Are you also feeling alright?” Sydney’s hand laces with yours.

“I’ll be better after a shower,” chuckling, you point at the terribly messy state of him, “and I think you could use one too.” Pulling him off the bed, you lead him to the bathroom for the both of you to wash up. (You definitely did not laugh when you saw how wobbly Sydney was on his legs after all that.)

Once dried off and the both of you are tucked into his bed, cuddling without leaving any space between you two, you see Sydney’s eyes threatening to close.

“Go to sleep, Syd, g’night.”

“Good night beloved,” a yawn, “Do you think we could beat our personal best we set today?”

“What?” Sydney’s question snaps you out of your drowsiness and you open your mouth to ask him how many rounds exactly he wants to try going for next time but it’s too late. He’s already snoring lightly against your shoulder.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

If you'd like to request a fic of your own, do consider checking out my event post!

[5source]

✰─ 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 - quotes

quotes taken from the movie 𝙹𝙴𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙵𝙴𝚁'𝚂 𝙱𝙾𝙳𝚈 (𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟿). feel free to change anything to your liking !! cw: cursing, sex, violence

-- " hell is a teenage girl. " -- " i wasn't always this cracked. " -- " god, i hate this fucking song. " -- " you and me are going out tonight. " -- " the lead singers extra salty. " -- " it's a rock show. this is my rock look. " -- " it smells like thai food in here. have you guys been fucking? " -- " you're just jello cause you're not invited. " -- " are you uh- are you gonna cuff me? " -- " can i buy you a drink? " -- " i'll just play hello titty with the bartender. " -- " i think the lead singer wants me. " -- " what? i'm not even a back door virgin anymore. " -- " do you want me to come over or something? " -- " maybe i'm going crazy. " -- " are you scared? " -- " sucks to be them, i guess? " -- " please don't talk to yourself. it's one of your more freakish behaviors. " -- " ew fuck. you need a mani bad. " -- " i feel guilty just breathing. " -- " i don't tell whoppers, and i'm not crazy. " -- " i didn't say you were crazy. " -- " well, i'm glad you didn't die. seriously. " -- " i'm not all obvious about it like a poser. " -- " i'm crazy sorry about your profound loss. " -- " you're so warm. why are you so warm? " -- " oh god. i had another one of my night terrors. " -- " i can take care of myself. " -- " i feel so scrumptious! " -- " move on dot org. it's over! " -- " you know, i tell it like it is. " -- " i'm having the best day since like, jesus invited the calendar. " -- " boo. i'm crossing you out. " -- " i am a god. " -- " you know, (blank) is looking really cute to me lately. " -- " so tell me, is he like packing some serious pubic inches? " -- " why are the cops at your house? " -- " we were fucking idiots. " -- " no offense, but you like, really tired. " -- " you wanna know if i'll go out with you? " -- " just go ahead with the pitch. " -- " i don't like boxing movies. " -- " my dick is bigger than his. " -- " so, are you gonna come over tonight? " -- " you give me such a wetty. " -- " i thought boys like you were really into vermin and death and shit. " -- " i need you frightened. " -- " i need you hopeless. " -- " enough with the screaming! you're such a cliché! " -- " i'm not gonna bite you. " -- " what the fuck is happening?! " -- " you don't have to talk if you don't want to. " -- " i've never even done sex. i don't know how. " -- " satan is our only hope. " -- " it should have killed me, but for some reason.. it didn't. " -- " i couldn't bring myself to hurt you. " -- " why were you covered in blood? " -- " what's going on? you're breaking up with me? " -- " you're acting really fucked up. " -- " oh my god. you don't believe me. " -- " i just can't believe she would mess with your head like this. " -- " why don't you just come here and kiss me again? " -- " she's just hovering. it's not that impressive. " -- " god, do you have to undermine everything that i do? " -- " you are such a player-hater. " -- " you were never a good friend. " -- " and now i'm eating your boyfriend. " -- " how could I ever be insecure? I was the snowflake queen. " -- " i am going to eat your soul and SHIT IT OUT! " -- " i thought you only murdered boys? " -- " i go both ways. " -- " do you buy all your murder weapons are home depot? " -- " you just might get lucky for once in your miserable life. "

[hanjicakes]

꒰ 𝜗𝜚 ꒱ beware

synopsis .ᐟ - you and chris were never meant to work out, but when he shows up again, can you actually resist?

content info .ᐟ - nonidol!chan x gender neutral!reader, but the word 'girl' is used for reader once but in a slang way yk?, they both ain't shit, lots of mentions of alcohol, reader has canonically been to jail and has an alcohol problem, chris is an alleged cheater, chan referred to as chris

word count .ᐟ - 4.1k words

author ' s note .ᐟ - hey... it's been a while... my phone broke so lowkey wasn't focused but i'm here now!! this was in the drafts for a while and also can we tell i CANNOT write toxicity?? go easy on me guys

my mastrlist ૮₍›ᆺ ‹ ₎ა

You should’ve listened to your friends.

Your subconscious replays those words over and over again. You weren’t made for each other. You were terrible for each other. What made you think this could possibly work? Jealousy seeped into your bones, ran through your veins, and ruined every relationship you ever had. This time wasn’t any different— it never was.

You lean against the cool bar as you down the most recent drink you ordered. You had lost track of the number of glasses you sent back to the bartender. It didn’t matter much, anyways. They weren’t going to stop a paying customer, no matter how intoxicated they already were. The loud music doesn’t help the pangs in your head. The bass rattles through your core. It feels like you’ve been chucked into a giant blender with all the hateful words, the sour tears, and the glass bottles you finished alone and the only thing you can do is continue to drown yourself.

Slowly, you move away from the bar and towards the dance floor. Drunk, sweaty bodies crowd together to thrust and grind against each other in a practice that is nowhere near elegant or appropriate. You know you came with your friends and you glance around in hopes of spotting one of them. You spot one of them squished in a leather booth with a man you certainly didn’t know. Their mouths are connected in an almost animalistic way and they don’t seem to be letting go anytime soon. You look away and shudder slightly. Turning around to return back to your sanctuary at the bar, you recklessly run into a man standing off with his friends.

You barely recognize that you spilled your drink until the coldness seeps through your outfit. You mentally curse yourself for wearing something that stains easily. Your mind whirls with a possible response for this accident and the one you choose is to get defensive. You immediately stand up to your full height and grip your glass.

“Why the hell are you standing in the middle—” You begin, only for the words to die on the tip of your tongue. Bile bubbles inside your gut as you look eyes with the man who wasn’t much of a stranger at all. He stares down at you with a furrowed brow, his plush lips curled downwards into a disappointed scowl.

“You drink too damn much, you know that?” Chris says. His voice is low and you’re sure you are the only person who heard him. Despite all the music blasting, his words rattle through your core and shake your mind into a jumbled mess. You try to speak up again but nothing escapes your mouth except a weak whine. He looks at you as if you were nothing more than a waste of time— a disappointment who drained the life out of him. On one hand, you did. You sucked out everything he had to offer and then more. On the other hand, he made your life a living hell.

Maybe you were meant for each other. In some sick, disgusting way.

The crinkle of fast food wrappers is almost like music to your ears. You and your friends had just spent the last few hours walking around the new shopping mall in your city and were, quite frankly, worn out. You sat on the hard, plastic food court chair, slurping on your slushy while two of your friends bickered over which movie you all would see later. One argued that a thriller was getting better reviews online. You didn’t care too much about what you guys would go see. You reach across the table and break off a piece of the soft pretzel you purchased.

A warm feeling of comfort settles over you as you watch your friends chatter away with each other. Life had gotten so busy for all of you that you rarely spent time together anymore. As the argument over movies gets more heated, you decide it’s time to intervene before they claw at each other’s throats. Parting your lips to speak, a deep masculine voice speaks up and causes your friends to go silent.

“You guys are trying to go see Scream?” He asks. His lips raise into a smile and he shows off a pair of teeth that are white enough to make even a dentist envious. His cheeks dip slightly and two dimples make their appearance. He was undeniably handsome with slightly ruffled hair and loose curls. He had an accent when he spoke, too. You weren’t sure where it was from— it wasn’t British but it didn’t seem American, either.

“Yeah… What about it?” Your friend, Sana, speaks up. There’s a slight smile forming on her face as she looks over him. You almost chuckle at how she isn’t able to hide her attraction. Part of you can’t blame her. He looks like he could’ve been sculpted out of marble. His smile widens a bit at her sharp response. Your head tilts slightly as you watch him formulate a response.

“Me and a few of my mates,” He says, gesturing to two other men sitting in another booth. One wears a black tank top while the other is basically drowning in his hoodie. “We were plannin’ on seeing that movie too, y’know? Thought you guys might want to see it with us.”

You glance over to your friends and raise your eyebrows. You weren’t completely opposed to going out with them… This man— who you still didn’t know the name of, oddly enough— seemed nice enough. You lean in closer to your friends to whisper between each other.

“He’s cute.” You mutter, letting your eyes flicker over his sturdy frame for a second too long. He spots your gaze easily and gives you a small wave.

“Please, don’t start right now…” Soyeon says. Out of the quirky characters that made up your friend group, Soyeon seemed to be the most level headed on. She was headstrong and made the better decisions of the group. Still, most people didn’t take her advice.

“We should go.” Sana blurts out, “Him and his friends are cute. And, the movie theater is a public place. They can’t axe murder us there, right? We could use some fun…”

After a few moments of hesitation, Soyeon nods her head. The three of you pull back and look back at the man in front of your table.

“What’s your name?” Soyeon asks. Her tone doesn’t allow him any chance to avoid the question.

“Just call me Chris, yeah?”

︶︶︶︶

The movie theater is almost dead silent as the audience waits for the unexpected twist. Unfortunately, the movie wasn’t as good as the reviews made it seem. While it did have a few comedic moments, the plot was rather predictable and the same as any other slasher movie. Your fingers drum on the side of your leather recliner and your eyes are glued to the screen. You know if you look away, you’ll make a fool of yourself. After a minor argument with Sana, you managed to claim the seat next to Chris. She and Soyeon sat next to his friends, who were decent guys in their own right. 

You can’t help but steal a glance at him. He seems to be focused on the movie. Your nails dig into the seat before turning back to the large screen in front of you. Just as you were about to forget about the ungodly handsome man beside you, he leans in to whisper to you.

“Are you nervous?” He mutters. His warm breath fans over your ear and you swear you feel goosebumps form over your skin. You take a moment to mentally prepare yourself to look at him.

“No,” You lie. You were nervous, just not because of the film. You were nervous because you were already ridiculously obsessed with a guy you know damn near nothing about. Your mind ridicules you for being so careless with these things but Lord knows you could never stop wearing your heart on your sleeve. “Just… Bored, I guess. This movie is kinda shitty.”

He snickers at your statement and that simple sound sends butterflies whirling around inside your stomach. A small grin forms without your control.

“Shitty, yeah? Well, I’d have to agree with that.”

“Mh…” You hum. “Uh, hey… Where are you from?”

He lets out a faint hum in acknowledgement of your question before actually responding. “Australia. Why?”

“You just have an accent. I couldn’t figure out where it was from.”

“Yeah, I mean, I get that a lot. Have you ever been to Australia?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I could take you, y’know.”

You look over to him and meet his eyes. Something in you tells you he is being dead serious and you furrow your brows.

“Why would you do that? We just met, you don’t know me.”

“Yeah, well…” He murmurs, glancing back towards the screen. The main character is trying to find a hiding place but clumsily trips over a loose extension cord. There’s a few quiet groans emitted from the audience. Chris turns back to you.

“Maybe I want to get to know you.”

The bitter taste of cheap alcohol lingers in your mouth and forces you to lick your lips. Your mouth felt so damn dry, it was insane. You pull your knees up to your chest while shifting slightly over the leather seats of Chris’s car. You weren’t sure when you left the party. Part of you could still hear the music ringing in your ears so mauve you were just parked outside? All you really remember was your friends telling you not to leave.

“Girl, we just got here!” Sana protested. Soyeon stood beside her with crossed arms and a grimace.

“Are you seriously leaving us for a man…?” Soyeon muttered. She sounded like a mother. One who was most certainly disappointed in the choices her too drunk daughter was making. You rolled your eyes.

“We’ll only be gone for, like, five minutes… We’ll come back before the party ends, alright?”

The words were pretty disingenuous. You weren’t sure when you and Chris would come back and, frankly, you didn’t care. He could keep you all night if he really wanted to. You are pulled back to your reality when you feel soft tugging on a strand of your hair. Chris is sitting beside you in the backseat, mindlessly fidgeting with the locks of hair. You brush his hand away and stare at him slightly. The corners of his eyes were tinged with red, but he held a big gummy smile on his face.

You poke your finger inside his dimple and chuckle slightly. “What are you smiling for? We’re just sitting here…”

“Well,” He murmurs, “You’re pretty and I’ve got you in my car. I think that’s a reason to smile.”

“And, why exactly are we in the car…?” You question. Your hand moves down to caress the curve between his neck and shoulder. He leans faintly into the touch and you feel his hand begin to roam over your back. His palms were soft and warm despite the air being on in the car.

“Why don’t you tell me why?” 

The both of you are quiet for a second. The alcohol flowing through you has you feeling a bit bold— more bold than you probably should. You snake your hand into his dark brown locks and tug on the curls. He lets out a faint grunt, one that you probably wouldn’t have noticed if it were anyone but him. It’s like all of your senses are on high alert around him. You don’t want to miss a single detail about him. You pull his head down a bit so you can meet his lips in a drunken kiss. It’s rough at first, trying to guide his head, but you both manage. His lips are soft and the faint taste of bubblegum and beer linger on his tongue. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hip as he leans in closer, absorbing the heat you emit.

“Damn,” Chris mutters. His words only add fuel to the fire inside your gut and don’t let him go— not until you both are breathless and weak.

You pant lightly while pushing back some of your hair. Looking up at Chris sends a slight shock through your body. How could one kiss leave you feeling electrified?

“Do you wanna head back now…?” You ask quietly. The whirl of the air conditioning in his car fills the quiet between your words.

“Nah, I think we can stay here…”

︶︶︶︶

Six months was a hell of a long time. You weren’t sure the last time you committed to something for that long, but you managed to commit to Chris. Unsurprisingly, many people doubted that you would last. Well, basically everyone did. Your friends always told you to take things slow and now to rush things because that’s how you get your heartbroken. It’s safe to say you didn’t listen because after two months of dating, you had already met his parents. Now, on the six month anniversary, you were about to make the biggest commitment of your life.

“A tattoo!?” Your friends say so loud, it makes a few people standing nearby uncomfortable.

“It’s not like it’s going to be his face or anything…” You murmur, stirring around your coffee with a wooden stirrer. “It’s a cute thing, stop acting like I’m fucking crazy.”

Soyeon scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You sure as hell are if you are getting a tattoo with this guy. It hasn’t even been a year! You always rush these things and—”

“You’re going to be looking for tattoo removal places in three months, y'know. Your relationships never last…” Sana says.

You groan heavily. “You guys always do this. I’m happy with Chris, alright? Stop meddling, we are fine… Maybe for once, you guys could be supportive?”

Sana and Soyeon share a concerned glance before Soyeon speaks up. “You know, the last time we did that, we had to bail you out of jail.”

“That guy was an asshole! Chris is different…”

“Maybe,” Sana says. “But, you are also… Reckless, when it comes to break ups.”

You bite your bottom lip slightly. They were being ridiculous, they always were. You never did anything that was unjustified— at least, in your eyes they weren’t unjustified. Maybe you did have a problem. Everyone else did. You raise your coffee mug to your mouth and continue your outing in uncomfortable silence.

Maybe you were too reckless.

The bright light from your phone screen illuminates your face as you scroll on Instagram. Okay, scrolling is a slight understatement. You were stalking. A bad habit, you know, but it was necessary.

You shift under your blanket as you scroll through your boyfriend’s following list. Your eye twitches whenever you see him following another girl, but you try to ward off that feeling. Eventually, you decide it’s time to give up. You didn’t have any reason to be worried, after all. You power down your phone and begin to focus back on the movie you had turned on. It was a Scream sequel, and it was just as bad as the original. While you reach for your bowl of chips, your phone vibrates with a message from an unfamiliar account. You stare at your phone for a while before picking up the device and reading over the message.

"hey, ik u dont know me, but ik chris and like hes been flirting with this girl all night and ik u two r dating, so i thought u should know"

You chuckle slightly at the message, not completely believing it at first. This was just some random person trying to ruin your day. You begin to type out a response to give them a piece of your mind when another message pops up. A series of photos, all of them depicting Chris being comfortable with a pretty girl in a green dress. Too comfortable, you think.

Your eyes scan over the photos again and again. It looks like Chris, but maybe it’s photoshop. Maybe it’s AI. Maybe you are just being paranoid. But, you remember seeing him leave in that jacket earlier. And he’s wearing the same watch he always does. Your lungs hitch when you see the final detail— a dark butterfly tattoo on his wrist. One that matches the butterfly on your ankle. It seems like the world around you quiets and disappears, leaving only you and the images. After that, all hell breaks loose.

You barely have time to think when you open your contacts and press the dial. You call his phone again and again to no response. That’s when you open your messages.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

R u joking me rn? Ur fucking CHEATING on me??

U have to be insane

This is crazy

UR CRAZY

Do u want me to die?? Is this how u treat me??

Answer ur damn phone Chris

Miserable fucking bastard

Chris <3: What the hell are you talking about?

Answer my damn calls

Where are u right now??

Ill find u rn

Im going to kill u

In the middle of your next spew of texts and violent threats, your phone rings. You hardly think before pressing the answer button and immediately yelling into the speaker.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? After everything I’ve done for you—”

“First of all, you haven’t done shit. Why are you blowing up my phone?”

His voice is quick to cut you off and his tone is sharper than you’ve ever heard. He’s pissed off, probably just as much as you are. Your grip on the phone tightens.

“Why am I blowing up your phone…? Are you serious? You’re out all damn night, feeling up other girls, and I should just stay quiet? What, did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“I’m not with other girls? I told you I was going to Changbin’s party. Stop acting fucking crazy.” He retorts.

“Crazy?” You repeat. Something about the word sends waves of heat running through your body. You push back the blankets and sit up. “You think I’m crazy? I’ll show you fucking crazy. Don’t call me again.”

There’s a faint scoff on the other line. The sound of house music can be heard muffled in the background. “Yeah, wasn’t planning on it.”

︶︶︶︶

You weren’t ready to accept that your friends were right. You fell in love too fast and ended up getting burned. The last few days have been spent hiding away in your apartment, trying not to rip your own hair out. Part of your heart yearned to crawl back to him, like a dog looking for water in Arizona heat. Another part of your heart wanted to watch him suffer the same way you were. You still watched his stories on a burner account. Seeing him still go to parties, still visiting friends made you outraged. You were supposed to be the best thing that happened to him—  He got a tattoo for you, after all. You were supposed to mean something to him.

The familiar taste of hard liquor helps you manage the stress, though. As unhealthy of a habit it was, it worked surprisingly well to help you forget. Well, you could never forget. You could never forget the lingering kisses and longing touches that set your skin on fire, but you could numb the pain of missing it.

You fidget with the empty, your mind blurred with heavy thoughts. You couldn’t understand the strange feeling of grief in your heart. How could you miss someone so badly when they only lived a few blocks away? At the thought, an idea pops into your head.

You slowly move from the couch and towards the storage closet in the hall. It was just as messy as your life was, but that wasn’t the point. You search deep into the back until you find exactly what you were looking for. Your old softball bat.

The walk to his house felt enthralling. Your entire body buzzed from head to toe with adrenaline and it seemed like for once, you were able to forget all about how upset you were. You could hardly care about the time of day, or night for this matter. Your feet drag along the concrete as you turn the block and spot the house he shared with a few buddies. Parked just outside the garage was Chris’s car. The same one that you shared your first kiss in. That was where you bawled your eyes out or indulged yourself in all his sweetness. The sight of it brought back a disgusting amount of memories. Memories you were ready to destroy.

Approaching the vehicle, you glance up towards the house. All the lights were off, so you assume everyone must be asleep. You let out a shaky breath and wind your arm back before swinging full force. The way the steel warps from the hit is almost mesmerizing. You wind up again and take another hit. This one sets off the blaring car alarm. You could care less if someone wakes up from it. You move to the side and take another hit, knocking out the passenger window. 

“What the fuck are you doing!?”

You are pulled from your stupor at the sound of someone yelling at you. Not someone, Chris. You could tell before turning around and even then, the sight of him looking at you from his open window brought a drunken smile to your face. His brows were so furrowed that they basically became one. He still manages to ignite such a fuzzy feeling inside of you no matter how much you convince yourself you hate his guts.

“Get the hell away from my car!” He shouts out, his hands gripping the windowsill. A few of the neighbors have begun to peer their heads out their doors or look through the blinds. You could care less about their eyes watching you. All you could focus on was Chris.

“I told you I would show you crazy, didn’t I!” You reply to him, holding out the bat for him to see. “This is your last time calling me crazy!”

Chris stares at you for a moment, completely bewildered. He grunts before slamming the window shut. You can only assume he’s coming down to stop you so you get your arm ready for one last hit. You raise your bat before slamming it down on the windshield. The glass cracks around the spot of impact and just as the front door opens, you take off running.

In a split second, you are returned back to that club. And he’s in front of you again, staring at you like you are nothing but garbage from his past. Your mouth is suddenly dry and it feels like no amount of alcohol will help it. You finally break eye contact and look down at the ground. In your peripheral, you noticed his bare wrist. He must have rolled his sleeves up. Despite that, something sticks out to you.

“You kept the tattoo…?” You murmur, looking back up at him. His face relaxes slightly and it was obvious he wasn’t expecting that question from you.

“Reminds me not to make mistakes. Like you.” He says, his tone flat.

“Geez, you’re still a dick…”

“You broke my fucking car windows.”

“I wouldn’t have to do that if you didn’t cheat on me.” You say. His lips twitch slightly like he wants to say something. He doesn’t. The air settling around the two of you is heavy.

“Something tells me you aren’t ready to let go.” He says as if it were fact.

“Really?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, really.”

You bite down on your bottom lip. Something in you didn’t completely trust him. You know you shouldn’t. But, you know he’s right. Even months later, you weren’t ready to let go. You weren’t ready to let go of the memories and the dreams. You weren’t ready to let go of the man who gave you the best few months of your life.

“You ruined my life.” You say.

“You ruined mines, too. Let’s call it even.”

“... So I can call you again?”

Chris tilts his head at your question. After a moment, though, a sly smirk forms and you catch a glimpse of those beautiful dimples.

“Yeah, you can call. Only if you lay off the alcohol.”

[yuseirra]

this is what I think's happened in the recent chapters

although things are SUPER VAGUE...

[darabeatha]

Valentines' personality test ! : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐎𝐍𝐄. 𝐋.𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑.

[reignpage]

Is Two Really Better Than One?

Summary: in which Nanami's wife gets hit with a curse and he comes home to two wives, not one... Warnings: smut, married couple/established relationship, f!reader, threesome, dom!nanami, mention of being used as a sex toy, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, spanking, paizuri, spitting, doggy, dual ride/double cowgirl position, cum eating, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, slight size kink, slight yuri action, voyeurism/exhibitionism?, totally inaccurate use of the curse science or whatever, not proofread - like literally not at all sowwy Word Count: 4.6k

Nanami is flabbergasted. 

When he came back home after a long hard day’s work, he was impatiently waiting for his wife’s loving embrace and reviving kiss. There’s a routine you two follow and he upholds it like a knight pledging allegiance to the crown – arrive home at 6pm, you greet him, he takes a shower and changes into comfortable clothes whilst you prepare dinner, and then you dine together. He expected you to be at the front door with an excited grin and open arms, just as you did yesterday and the day before that.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was two wives waiting for him. 

“Ken! Make her go away,” you scream. 

The other you snarls, “No, you go away.”

Apparently, you’ve been hit by a spirit splitting curse – it fragmented your soul into perfect halves. There is no ‘original wife,’ just two different parts of the same woman he loves. At least, that was how Shoko explained it on the phone. How long the effects will last is indeterminable, though Nanami’s simply glad it’s a harmless consequence and not something more disastrous.

“I want her ugly ass gone, Kento,” you growl.

And other you shrieks. “Excuse me? I am literally you. If I’m ugly, so are you, idiot.”

“Yeah? Well, somehow, I’m just prettier, so suck it.”

Sitting in the living room, he loosens his tie and stares up at the ceiling. He supposes it really was just too much to ask to have peace and quiet in his life, to be able to catch up on some rest and sleep, and have dinner with his wife, his only wife. Right now, the two of you are smacking throw pillows at each other’s faces, exchanging limp blows over his body, and insulting one another.

This animosity is unfounded. She is you and you are her. You are both his wife, with the exact same body, personality, past, hopes and dreams. And yet you’re at each other’s throats like there is a long feud between your warring families. Nanami sighs again. “Please, stop fighting. Let’s just get on with our evening and wait for the effects to subside.”

Both of you press close to him, taking a side each. You cling to his arm, cradling his bicep between your breasts, seeping warmth into his skin through his work shirt. Nanami clears his throat. You smell nice – always do – but right now, the scent of you is engulfing him from all sides. Other you pokes his chest. 

With an accusatory tone, you question, “Why aren’t you pushing her away, Kento?”

He leaves a kiss on your head, hoping to soothe your irritation. “I could never push away my wife, darling. I’d sooner die.”

“But I’m your wife.”

“No, I’m his wife.”

Nanami wraps his arms around the both of you, rubbing comforting circles on your backs; if he doesn’t do something, he might just come out of this with no wife. “You are both my wives. Just as beautiful as the other and just as ferocious. So, there’s no need to fight, alright?”

“Oh my god, what if we’re stuck like this forever? I can’t share you, Ken! I won’t. And! What if you start to like her more than me? I’ll kill myself.”

Gaze softening, he holds you tight. “That won’t happen, my love. It just wouldn’t. I’m confident things will go back to normal soon enough and you’ll be whole again. That’s our biggest concern, not ‘who will I prefer.’ That’s a silly thought; I love you in all the possible shapes and forms you come in. I could never choose just one side of you to love, it’s simply impossible.”

A moment of silence passes. 

“He is such a sweet talker, isn’t he?” You ask yourself.

You reply with a chortle. “The absolute sweetest. Thank god we put up with his grumpy ass before he fell for us.”

His heart swells. To watch you two get along fills him with so much pride and he can’t quite explain it. Perhaps it’s because he loves your smile, the way your cheeks get so plump with the force of it. Maybe it’s because he knows how long you’ve struggled to reconcile with the need to love yourself, truly, and how you find it torturous to confront yourself and see all those flaws he thinks creates your perfect soul. 

Maybe it’s simply because he loves you so much; there’s no need to question it.

“Ugh, get your hands off my husband!”

“No, you get your hands off my husband.���

And Nanami sighs again.

On and off, you two keep bickering, momentarily being quieted by his hushed commands to behave before starting up again shortly after. Slowly losing the will to fight, he accepts his indefinite reality. His house might never know peace again and he might never truly clock off work even once he returns home. It seems, outside of the office, he also has to manage stubborn individuals and rising tension. 

Still, it’s not so bad, he thinks. Having two of you is a blessing; he’s always encouraging you to eat more with the rationale of wanting more of you to love, after all.

But, his reasoning at this moment isn’t so pure.

The feeling of your plush bodies in his grasp is distracting. Two sets of your breasts are bouncing against his sides and in his face with every move you both make. Hands rove all over his body, staking their claim, and teasing the skin underneath his clothes. Nails scrape against his thighs, digging in when you try to control your anger, using him as the punching bag. He needs to keep his cool, to maintain control so he can ease your worries and dispel trouble at any time. But damn it if it isn’t taking a lot of effort to stand his ground. 

“Ken,” one of you whispers in his ear, lips brushing the shell, “you’re hard…”

Looking down, he comes face to face with solid evidence of your observation. How embarrassing – his wife was hurt and is facing an indubitably anxiety-provoking situation whereby she might never recover as whole from again, and despite that, he’s aroused. What kind of man is he?

What kind of terrible husband would be so self-centred?

“We can help… if you’d like.”

The kind that’d be married to you, apparently. 

Speechless, Nanami can do nothing but sit back and let his wife unbuckle his belt whilst the other unzips his trousers. One has a look of complete glee when she finds his hard cock already leaking and the other sports a focused expression, working her hand up and down his length. You really are his wife, split or not. No one could ever touch him so seductively, so enticingly, already threatening to shake his entire foundation with simple grazes. 

He should stop you both, should establish boundaries and get on with dinner. Instead of giving into baser instincts, he should lead by example and ensure your safety and wellbeing by being patient. But…how can he when your velvety palms play with his balls, fascinated by the weight of them?

“Come here, sweetheart,” he mutters, losing all grip on reason. He discards his glasses. “Come give Kento a kiss.” 

Two heads rush to his face. They collide with a bang. Hissing, you throw aggravated looks at each other. “He meant me.”

“Uh, no, he meant me.”

Tutting, he cradles both of your faces and brings one up to his lips. He lays a kiss where you bumped your head and then another to your mouth. Slowly and gently, he indulges in your taste, swallowing your breathy moans and teasing your tongue with his. Then, parting ways, he pushes your head down, eager to feel those juicy lips wrap around his throbbing cock. 

He meets your gaze. “You too, love.”

Mirroring the ministrations, he loses himself in the steamy kiss, groaning into your mouth when the you that’s licking his cock from the base to the very tip slides her wet tongue on the slit. Fuck, he needs more. He needs to feel you. 

A hand of his slides down your body, groping a breast, tweaking the nipple, before it ventures further down to between your legs. You’re soaked. Pussy lips swollen, he wastes no time in working two calloused digits inside. Wet, tight, and hot, he can’t get enough of how your cunt clenches around him. 

“Ah, Ken! So good. Thank you!”

The wife that’s drooling on his balls pouts. “Me too, Ken. Make me feel good too, please.”

He smiles. “My sweet wives, always so polite. Tilt your hips this way, darling, show me your pretty pussy. That’s it. And you, sweetheart, let me kiss your beautiful breasts.”

Now, both of his hands are being thoroughly coated in your wetness, squelching their way inside your pulsing canals. Mouth full of your breast, sucking and flicking your hard nipple, he lets himself be consumed by your scent, your warmth, your softness, and the wondrous sounds of your barely subdued whimpers and squeals. 

Being weighed down by your body, the reminder of your love and need for him, of which reflects his own for you, is the purest form of bliss he never would have thought he was deserving of. There is nothing more rewarding than drawing out your pleasure, than curling his fingers in just right against that gummy spot inside you that pushes out even more sloppy juices, and washing away your fears and worries. 

In this moment, as both of your hips are grinding down onto his hands, he wishes there was another of him. He can meet all your needs at once, overwhelm you with his body and drive you crazy. Then, there’d be no need to be jealous or possessive. Though…Nanami has a dark realisation that perhaps the sight of a cock that isn’t really his pushing its way inside your body would drive him to madness and not the pleasurable kind.

“Fuck, Ken! I’m gonna–”

“Cum!”

You orgasm at the same time as your other half, juices flying and soaking the sofa underneath your bodies. Speckles land on his creased trousers, drowning his hands and dribbling juices down his wrists. Nanami throbs, cock jolting in the cold air.

Slumped over his body, one of your heads perks up. “Hey, uglier me, wanna give him a boob job together?”

“I’m ignoring that insult, bitch, but yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes and then land a peck on Nanami’s cheek, giving him a wink.

Getting down onto your knees, you force his legs to spread wide to accommodate yourselves. A little frazzled at seeing you two collude and leave him out of the decision making process, no word of complaint can manifest before he throws his head back, unable to stand the sight of impish joy all over your irresistible eyes doubled as you watch his cock bob once and twice. 

“Ugh, isn’t his dick so pretty?”

The kitten licks you leave on his frenulum are your answer. Then, you both wrap your breasts around his cock, nipples kissing each other and his sharp intake of breath elicits giggles. Up and down, you rub his heated length with your supple breasts. His fingers thread through your hair, unable to keep his hands off you. 

“Is it good, Ken? Do you like it?”

Nanami groans. “Y-yes, it feels amazing, sweetheart. You’re so good to me…always so good to your husband, aren’t you?”

Giggling again, you two exchange grins, feeling mighty proud of yourself, he supposes. And he knows he can cum just like this, that his cum will spurt all over your faces and breasts. It’ll coat your plump lips and you’ll be able to taste his salty spend. Lightheaded, he gasps for air, intent to get his bearings, to not let you two have your way with him, but then you surprise him one more time. 

Lips locked, you two make a big show of moaning into each other’s mouths, tongue twisting together in an obscene display that has his heart thumping faster and faster until he’s sure he’s losing his mind. 

You might never stop surprising him no matter how long he’s loved you. 

He can’t take it anymore. The smell of your sweetness, the evidence of your euphoria coating his skin, the doughy blanket of your breasts around his cock is driving him insane. He needs you and he needs you now. In agile haste, he stands and takes his clothes off all while you both watch. 

“I-I need to be inside you, darlings.” There isn’t enough space on the sofa for what he wants. So, with a grunt, he lifts you two and carries your bodies up, biting back a smile when you squeal and giggle, into the bedroom. You both bounce into each other’s embrace when he drops you off on the mattress. “Strip.”

Clumsily, you remove every article of clothing. Your arms get caught in your shirt and your panties get tangled around your ankles. “Ugh, Ken, help.”

“I’m here. I’m here.” He helps you two out, wrangling your clothes off. “There we go, honey. Upsi-daisy.”

Though he might never admit how pleased he gets when he’s needed, he’s sure you know. There’s no way you don’t. You feel the evidence of it when he pins you to the kitchen counter to fetch the plate you’re reaching for and you surely see the way his eyes darken as you place a foot on his lap, wordlessly asking him to clasp your heels on for you.

As soon as your clothes are off, he pounces – sloppily swallowing your wet moans, he devours you and then the other you, swapping and switching till he gets frustrated and gasps for air. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I love you so much. All of you. In every life, in every time. Always.” You’re lying so prettily for him. Whatever he has done to deserve you today, he hopes he’ll do it again and again so he may never part from you, not even in death. His hands don’t know where to stay, exploring, groping and squeezing and pinching wherever they please. There’s so much of you he wants to feel at once and it’s like an urge he can’t fight. The need to be with you, to please you, to immerse himself in your essence wholeheartedly is choking him up, calling forth tears in his eyes. “God, if only you could see yourself from my eyes.”

“Ken, I love when you get all emotional, I swear, but please just fuck me already.”

He gulps. “Yes, love. I will.”

“No, wait, fuck me first.”

“Wait your fricking turn, oh my god.”

Another fight breaks out. 

Nails are out, hands are flying, hair is being pulled. Kento huffs. He’s trying to get in between you two without using force, without accidentally hurting you, and just as he’s about to pull you apart, a resounding SLAP!echoes. It’s a grating noise that steals his breath. In a flash, he’s got you behind him and you pinned to the bed. 

“No.” Nanami growls. Breathing hard, he shakes off the sudden anger coursing through his veins. Wide eyed, you just watch him release his punishing hold on your neck that he didn’t even realise he had on you. The scolding fire in him doesn't disappear. “No one hurts my wife. Not even you. Understand?”

You nod frantically. 

“Good. You know I hate to punish you but you won’t disagree when I say you need to be reminded of the rules, would you?” You shake your head. “Use your big girl words.”

“I need to be punished, Ken. I need to be reminded of the rules.”

Satisfied, he leans back on his haunches and beckons the other you to his front. There’s a mark on your cheek and it makes his chest squeeze painfully. “Oh, look what you’ve done to your pretty face. My darling wife and her penchant for violence. You’re going to give me more grey hairs.”

“I hope so; you’ll be a silver fox. Yum.”   

A fruitless frustration builds inside – it’s akin to that cuteness aggression you claim overcomes you often, he thinks. Well, he won’t deny himself any longer. He tugs your neck and kisses you. It’s rough, it’s messy, it’s sloppy. And he does it all while keeping his eyes on the you that’s in near tears. “Why don’t you -hah- show my wife how to be a good girl? Show her the reward you deserve.”

“Okay, Ken.”

Leaning back into his firm, sturdy body, you hiss as the threatening stretch of his fat cockhead pushes through the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. Slowly but surely, he’s worming his way into your pulsing cunt. Nanami grunts when he finally bottoms out, balls constricting with the labour of keeping his cum in his balls and not in your pussy prematurely. This is all far too much for him. To be thrusting into you, holding you upright by your arms as you watch his cock shine with your juices, is an insane fantasy he never even dreamed of, but it is his reality and he damn sure will make the most of it. 

“Ngh, tell my wife h-how you’re feeling, sweetheart.”

Breathless, you try to talk despite the delirium-inducing pleasure he’s ramming into your tight cunt. “G-good. I feel good. Ken’s so big a-and I’m feeling so full. Fuck, Ken, fuck me harder.”

The sound of skin slapping, the squelching of your pussy, and the heady moans and grunts are all going straight to his head. Overstimulated, he clutches your breast for a tether, grounded by the weight and the softness. His pace quickens. “Like this? Hmm? You like this, darling?”

“Yes, Ken! Fuck, I’m close. More, Kento. Fuck me more.”

Over your shoulder, he watches you writhe and squirm on the bed, a hand squeezing your breast the way he is and fingers pumping inside your needy cunt at the pace his cock is working its way into your other half. Impatient, you whine. “Hurry, Ken. I want your cock too.”

He licks his lip. Sweaty, eyesight ever so slightly blurry, and growing closer and closer to his climax, urged on by the tight pulsing of your pussy, he continues thrusting inside. “Behave. Can’t you see I’m -ah, fuck- p-pleasuring my wife? Bad girls don’t get to touch, do they? They don’t get to have their cake. And. Eat. It. Ngh. Too!”

To highlight his point, he lets you slip through his grasp. You fall on top of yourself, bouncing breasts pressed tightly against each other. Your face is buried into the crook of your neck, uncaring about how loud your moans are. Nanami finds purchase against your slippery ass and holds it still as he fucks his cock into you, using you as a glorified cock sleeve. 

“Give me something. Anything, Ken. Please. Pleasepleaseplease.”

Nanami grunts. “Open up.”

A fat drop of his spit lands with a plop onto your awaiting tongue. You gulp it down eagerly. Your fingers work themselves inside your cunt even faster, unperturbed by the weight of yourself pinning you to the bed, sweaty and shaking. Dare your husband say, you rather like it. His cock pulses.

“Soon, honey. Just be patient, a-alright? And then I’ll -hah- fill you up. Just have to -ngh- make my wife cum first.” 

Expert hips grind into your tight pussy, cockhead hissing your g-spot and stretching out your gooey walls again and again. If he had it his way, he’d never leave your cunt, but he has a responsibility to make you both cum. He can’t be selfish.

“Ugh, hurry up, you whore,” you mutter into your ear. Then, he sees your mischievous hand trail down your other’s spine until it descends between your legs. When the moans get louder and the clenching of your pussy steals Nanami’s breath, he can only assume you’ve taken matters into your own hands.

You cum around his cock with a scream. 

Hips stuttering, his orgasm soon follows. “Ah, f-fuck! So tight. So fucking good.”

His choked groans are all that can be heard as you lay limp. He too falls to the bed, lying beside your bodies. That had to have been one of the strongest orgasms he had ever had. Never a dull day with you. Just when he thinks he’s got you all figured out, you prove him wrong. What a privilege it is to learn all about you every day for the rest of his life.

“Hey, my turn!”

Brushing back his blond locks, he chuckles to himself as he watches his cock throb back to life. It seems his body has adapted to be sure he can attend to his wife’s needs. Both of them. “Get up here, sweetheart. Take what you want.”

Excited, you shove your other half off and rush to straddle your husband’s hips. You don’t wait; his cock slides inside with ease from your juices. “Oh, god, yessss. Fuck, Ken, I can feel you in my lungs.”

Bracing himself by holding onto your thighs, he can do nothing else against the desperate bouncing of your ass. The pleats inside of your perfect pussy are attempting to wring him dry all over again and Nanami’s abs flex with the building pressure. His cock is still recovering and it’s sensitive but you don’t care. Now, he’s the one being used like a mere toy. 

“S-slow down, honey.” He hisses. “Hah, slow -hngh!- d-down.”

“Hmm, shit, Kento. Y-you’ve gotten so big…” Ignoring his pleas, you must be referring to the layer of fat that’s grown on his body, thanks to the delicious food you’ve been cooking for him. Wholly embracing married life by skipping visits to the gym in lieu of staying longer in bed with you, he’s realised that his clothes no longer fit as they did. It’s embarrassing for a man who prided himself in being fit and put together but it gets you so wet and so needy, he doesn’t dare change a thing. “I want to -ah ah ah fuuuuck- drown in you.”

His chuckle is punctuated by the grunts that your incessant bouncing is forcing out of him. “If it’ll make you happy, my love.”

You clench down. 

“Ah, don’t -oh fuck- squeeze so tight.” He reaches for your clit, thumbing at it. You yelp, hips bouncing faster. Looking so absolutely beautiful, he can’t keep his eyes off the recoiling breasts in his line of vision. Suddenly, his mouth is suffocated with something hot, wet, and delicious. “Hmmph!”

You’ve sat on his face, leaning forward on his stomach, clearly keen to be involved once more in the fun. Submerged in your scent and taste, he doesn’t hesitate to slurrrrrrp! up your juices. He can taste his cum too and it dribbles down his chin. Cunt wrapped around his cock and another leaking wetness right into his mouth, Nanami swears he’s in heaven, delirious with the devastating gratification of pleasuring his wife. “Ride me faster…my face…my cock…that’s it, dear…doing so -ngh- great for me…my -hah hah- perfect wife.”

Lapping up your juices, he throbs when you squeal on his tongue.

“Is that how I really sound when you eat me out? Ew.”

Other you growls. “And is that what I really look like when I ride you?”

SMACK!

SMACK!

“Don’t t-talk badly about yourself. I won’t have it.”

Rubbing your sore ass, you mumble, “Mmm, sorry, Ken.”

“Yeah, s-sorry.”

Soon, you three work back into a punishing rhythm. Nanami hates to be so strict, but he can’t bear to hear you be so mean to yourself. It makes the hairs on his arms stand. If his eyes aren’t rolling to the back of his head, he’d lecture you about the importance of loving yourself. Again. But he can’t string full sentences together. Not right now. Now when you’re all so close. 

Your clit is bumping against his nose whilst his tongue pierces your cunt and he wonders if you can both feel the specific kind of bliss the other is – a cock kissing your g-spot, filling you up, and your pussy being thoroughly ravished by his greedy mouth. 

“Yes, Ken, suck my clit…hmm, just like that… yes yes yessss.”

“Fuck, Ken, your cock feels so good. I love it! More more more. I need it.”

Whatever his wife wants, he’ll oblige. Planting his feet, he fucks up into you, jostling your body. You shriek. His pace is relentless, merciless, and they push you further and further until your climax nears. Off balance, your face falls in between other you’s breasts. Whatever you’re doing to those tits he loves so much is making his wife’s eyes roll to the back of her head too. 

Nanami’s nearing his end. He needs you to get there first. Always. “Come on, sweetheart. Make me –ah make Kento– proud, won’t you? Let me h-hear, feel a-and taste my darling wife -hah- cum.”

“Yes, Ken!” You both screech.

And soon after, your husband finds himself covered in a flood of your juices. 

“FUCK!” 

“SHIT!”

“OH GOD!”

Nails dig into his skin, scratching and stinging. The grip you have on his cock tightens until he’s robbed of his breath and forced over, hips pumping up into your scalding cunt. Your moans are muffled between your breasts when his searing cum paints your walls white. 

Clinging to each other, the three of you black out. 

Minutes or hours later, Nanami is the first to wake. Bones aching just a little, he has a quick flash of thought that maybe he’s getting too old for this curse business. A curse-less day with you is more than enough to zap him of energy all while reviving him simultaneously so would it be so bad to give up the other part of him so he can dedicate his life to all of you?

He groans. His muscles are a little sore with a slight shake to them —the good kind. What a blessing it is to be pushed to his limits with you. Gazing down, he sighs in relief at what he sees.

Finally, the sight that greets him is not anomalous or extraordinary – it’s just his wife, singular and whole, draped naked across his lap and snoring. He’s trying to catch his breath, staring down at your sleeping form. “I’ve -hah- tired you out, huh? Poor thing.”

No doubt you’ll ask him if he enjoyed having two wives to service him later, and he’ll answer honestly as he always does with you; it wasn’t having two wives that he found pleasure in, it’s having two of you. There’s more to touch, to taste, to love. A challenge he wouldn’t ever shy away from.

Just as he wanted, he’s covered in sweat and your juices, owned by you in every way possible. This is how he’d like to spend the rest of his life if he could: attending to your needs and drawing out a grin even in your sleep. He pets your head, a shaky smile on his lips. Your eyes flutter open. 

“There’s my beautiful wife. Hi. I’ve missed you, darling.”

Groggily, you ask, “Am I fixed now, Kenny?”

Bringing up your face to his, he skims his nose against the tip of yours. “You were never broken to begin with, my love.”

“That’s sweet…can we go eat? I’m hungry.”

Petting your pussy and seeking out your heat as if his fingers are magnetised to it, he whispers against your lips, “You can take one more round, can’t you, honey? For me? For Kento?”

You both know it won’t stop at just one round. 

It never does. 

And thank fuck.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Can I see your d*ck? (drabble)

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

synopsis: you're lounging on your bed with your best friend peacefully until an intrusive thought wins over.

wc: 1.0k

warnings: lots of dirty talk, making out, fingering

a/n: idk what this is, i feel unhinged and not inspired to write today so this might suck but thanks @jazz-the-writer 😏💜 (side not: y'all his hands might be small by some standard that i'm not aware of but to me they're big cause i am small and that is hot, mkay)

Your best friend is leaning on your pillow looking all pretty and alluring and you can't help your thoughts.

Or your mouth.

"Can I see your dick?" it rolls off your tongue kind of accidentally. Felix coughs, choking on air as he looks up from his phone.

"Excuse me?" he looks at you in disbelief and your cheeks warm up.

"Your dick. I want to see it."

You can't really back out now.

"Um... you can't just ask stuff like that?" his eyebrow is raised, but his cheeks become rosy too.

"Why not? Do I need to get you drunk first?" you smirk.

"N-no, just... Why would you ask that?" he chuckles nervously.

"Well, I've never seen one. Not in real life, at least." you say and he smirks suddenly.

"Where else have you seen a dick?" he sits up and so do you.

"Porn, duh." you roll your eyes.

"What kind of porn?" he leans in closer and you whine, rolling your eyes again.

"Don't change the subject! Will you let me see it?"

"No, I will not show you my dick, y/n. Be for real." he laughs, shoving you playfully.

"You're totally not fun." you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

Felix smirks to himself as he looks away from you. His heart hammers against his ribs as he bites on his lip and considers teasing you.

"How about this?" he turns around to look at you again. "I wanna see yours too."

"Hate to disappoint you Lixie but I don't have a dick." you joke and his face becomes as red as a tomato.

"I meant your... you know." he looks away.

"My what? Say it." you lean in closer and he visibly shivers.

"Y-your... pussy?" he whispers and you laugh.

"Okay." you shrug and he gasps, thinking you'd surely back out after that request.

"You're for real?" he gulps.

"Mhm." you nod, your heart skipping a beat in excitement but Felix struggles.

"I mean... it's not... it's not hard yet, you know."

"Can I help with that?" you inch closer to your best friend. And god, he is so beautiful.

"We could make out?" he suggests and you agree immediately because who wouldn't want to kiss those lips?

The world stops as you lean in, the sounds of your breathing seem so loud in the tiny gap between you and Felix. The gap is soon closed as your lips press together in a sweet, awkward kiss.

The kiss slowly escalates into something more desperate and raw, as your hands start wandering on each other's bodies. Somehow, you end up under him as he keeps kissing your face and neck.

"Your hands are so pretty." you say breathlessly as you play with Felix's hand.

"They are?" he asks, a little surprised at your compliment.

"Mhm. And your fingers are perfect." you bring his hand closer to your face, his fingertips on your lips. Felix gasps when your tongue darts out to lick at his fingertips.

"Y/n..." his voice breaks as you take his middle finger in and start sucking on it.

"Fuck." Felix curses, his eyes darkening as he observes you. You can feel his dick twitching against your thigh and you clench around nothing.

"Please, touch me Lixie." you whine when you take his finger out of your mouth.

"Where, sweetheart?" he smirks at your eagerness and you nearly combust at the nickname.

Instead of answering, you start pulling your pants down and he quickly stops you.

"Are you sure?" he asks in the last moment of clarity.

"Yes." you say and he nods, helping you get rid of your pants and underwear.

"Oh." he licks his lips at the sight of you all wet and desperate for him.

"Please." you whine and a deep chuckle escapes his lips.

"I got you, baby." he soothes you as his hands run up your thighs a few times, coming up to spread your pussy so he can take a good look at it.

You whimper, shutting your eyes tight. Felix chuckles again, his thumb pressing against your sensitive clit in circles.

You gasp, eyes snapping open as they meet his darkened ones.

"If you've never seen a dick, that must mean you're a virgin?" Felix asks quietly.

"N-no... Well, yes. I mean I did this before but never went further." you confess and he smirks.

His fingers dip between your folds, gathering your arousal before paying attention to your clit again as he speeds up, making you whimper.

"W-why are you smirking like that?" you moan out as he flicks your clit, driving you absolutely insane already.

"I know you wanna see my dick. But I wanna make sure this little pussy can take my fingers first."

"Felix!" you whine at the dirty talk, the effect of his words amplified by his deep voice and the movement on your clit.

If you weren't at his mercy you'd probably laugh at your best friend for talking like that.

"Yeah baby? You want that?"

"P-please!" you're falling apart, your pussy clenching around nothing again.

"As you wish." Felix whispers and slowly starts pushing his middle finger in.

"L-Lixie." you moan, grabbing at his wrist as he fills you up.

"You're so tight, sweetheart. I don't think you'll be seeing my dick so soon."

"N-no, please, I wanna see it!" you cry out as he pushes in completely, slowly fucking you with his finger.

"If you manage to take three of my fingers, maybe I'll let you." he leans down to whisper in your ear, making you whine.

"You're mean." you pout, knowing damn well you're nowhere near ready to take him.

"I'm just looking out for you." he keeps smirking as he starts pumping his finger faster, making you more wet with every thrust.

You want to smack him for being so sly but his thumb starts working on your clit and you completely fall apart, moaning his name and gripping at the sheets as Felix brings you to ecstasy easily.

"Only one finger got you falling apart like this, hm?" he mocks as he fucks you through your high.

"You wanna see what two get me like?" you smirk at him and he laughs a little.

"I hope you know what you got yourself into, sweetheart."

~ part 2

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz @stayp1eceposts

[sturnlsstuff]

GETTING OFF ON CHRIS'S LAP. . .

— warnings: smut, titty sucking, making out, cursing, dry humping, english isn't my first language.

chris didn't necessarily understand what made you so needy out of sudden, but he was not complaining.

your fingers are digging into his shoulders, while you continue grinding down against the bulge in his sweatpants. the last ten minutes had been like heaven— what started as an innocent make out session, ended with you dry humping your boyfriend.

chris is kissing you passionately, one hand moving to tangle in your hair while the other one plays with your breast, your shirt thrown to the floor a few minutes ago, leaving your chest bare.

your breath hitches as chris pulls away from the kiss, and instead wraps his lips around your hardening nipple, his hands now on your hips. his erection presses against your clothed pussy, and you get lost in the feeling. the way your clit brushes perfectly against his tip causes you to moan, and tilt your head back in utter bliss.

he continues sucking gently on your nipple, eyes locked on the pleasure written all over your face, his hands moving to grab your ass, and pull you down harder onto his cock. he can feel how wet you are even through your clothes, and it's driving him insane.

"feels good, baby?" you look down at him as he speaks, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple. "using me like this?"

you nod immediately, eyebrows knitted together as the pleasure keeps building up in your lower belly. "s-so good..."

chris smirks, his hands tightening on your ass. he kisses his way over to the other breast, giving it the same treatment as he murmurs against your skin. "good girl... gettin' y'self off on my lap..."

his tongue moving around your nipple makes a shiver go straight to your core, a whimper falling from your lips. each time you grind on him, you're making these small, breathy noises that he loves.

your arms wrap around his shoulders, while pressing yourself down harder against him, the wetness starts leaking through your shorts onto his lap. a small growl leaves him at the realization of you dripping only for him.

he lifts his head, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, his hips twitching upward uncontrollably. it's all sloppy and heated, your tongues dancing together as you continue rolling your hips against his clothed dick.

"gonna come?" he pulls back to look at you, the way your eyes are shut, your tits bouncing slightly with each movement, face all flushed and lips swollen from kisses. you looked so sexy, dry humping him like your life depended on it, and it only makes his cock twitch in his sweatpants. "gonna make a fuckin' mess on my lap from grindin' all over me like a little slut?"

"chris— mgh, fuck—" you let out a choked moan, his fingers digging into your hips, guiding your movements.

he's matching your pace perfectly, bucking his hips up each time you grind down, his orgasm building as he watches you with his bottom lip between his teeth.

at some point you open your eyes to look at him— at how hot he looked. you were holding it in almost the entire day, while you sat on the couch and watched him and his brothers recording a new youtube video in their kitchen earlier. you had to restrain yourself from ruining it and dragging chris into his bedroom. you didn't know why his outfit had such an effect on you, but after seeing him in that red tank top and backwards hat, with that goddamn bracelet on his wrist, you completely lost your mind. you couldn't wait to be alone with him— and finally, nick and matt left the house, leaving you two alone, and you just had to release the tension.

"holy shit—" another moan leaving your lips after noticing the way he looks at you. "so...close, chris–"

this nearly pushes him over the edge as well, his grip tightens as he watches you chase your orgasm, every roll of your hips perfectly grinding against his aching cock. when you press down harder, he lets out a groan that's almost a plea.

you were a desperate mess, noticing the growing wet stain on his sweatpants, and it only makes you clench around nothing, the pressure becoming too much.

"c'mon, pretty," he mutters against your mouth, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. "wanna see you cum just from rubbin' that needy pussy on me... you gonna do this f'me? hm?"

"oh— jesus..." his words send a shudder through you, your nails digging into his shoulders harder as you grind down, your clit rubbing against his cock just perfectly to make your orgasm crush over you, leaving you trembling on top of him. a final gasp leaves your mouth, your eyes rolling back as chris guides you when your hips stutter. your slick staining not only on your shorts, but on his sweatpants as well.

"thereee you go... so fuckin' hot, baby—" he groans loudly, watching you come undone on him, your wet heat pressing against his cock through the clothes. his eyes half-lidded as he takes in the sight of you like this, his favorite, the way your chest rises and falls rapidly. the friction and the sounds leaving your lips are enough to push him completely over the edge, in the last moment pulling down his sweatpants, just enough to free his leaking with pre-cum dick and wrap his hand around it.

you look down as he jerks off, his head tilting back against the couch, almost knocking his hat off his head. warm drops of cum bursts from his tip all over his hand and thighs, a moan of your name falling from his lips.

© sturnlsstuff

[fairyhaos]

◇ the way you make me feel // choi seungcheol

seungcheol x gn!reader, 2.6k+ words

tags: requested by anon, established relationship, fluff, mild angst, seungcheol is sooo down bad oh lawwd

warnings: pet names, 1 vvv mild curse word ig?? (ass)

notes: any fic where i get to write besotted cheol is a great fic! might be slightly ooc but oh well. who cares. ty anon for this request <3

“I'm going to be very honest, honey… this feels like a sleeping arrangement for a couple that's just had an argument.”

You laugh a little at the mild pout on your boyfriend's face as he stares contemplatively at the bed after you've suggested a rather… interesting sleep method that he's never really heard of before. 

“It's really not,” you assure him. “Other couples do this all the time! And I thought it would be fun to try out too.”

Your boyfriend, Seungcheol, blinks at the bed before looking over at you, mystified. 

“Really? People want to do this?”

“Yes, Cheol.”

“Hm.” Seungcheol frowns. “What did you say this was called again?”

“The Scandinavian Sleep Method,” you say cheerfully, hopping over to the drawers with all the different duvets and duvet covers that you and your boyfriend have collected over the years you've been living together. “Isn't it such a great idea? We sleep in the same bed, but we each have a different duvet so we get better sleep but still get to be next to each other.”

You begin pulling out different duvets, inspecting them and continuing to chatter as you do so. 

“I know how much you love weighted blankets, but you know they're not something I'm a big fan of,” you say. “And you really hate my fluffy covers, for some reason. But if we sleep this way, then both of us can sleep happily without causing disturbance to the other's sleep quality!”

With a flourish, you turn back round to Seungcheol, the offending weighted blanket and fluffy cover in your hands, as if emphasising your point. There's a bright beam on your face, evidently eager to try out this new idea, but Seungcheol? 

He's still looking a bit hesitant. 

Which, understandable. You're introducing a new sleeping arrangement three years after you've been quite happily living together. Anyone would find that weird. 

“If we don't like it, we can switch back,” you assure him. You shrug. “It's just a trend I saw online, Cheol. I thought it would be cool.”

Seungcheol pauses, and then smiles, nodding once. “Fine, fine. Let's try out, then. We'll see if the Scandinavians actually sleep well.”

You cheer, dropping the bedding and skipping across the room to launch yourself into Seungcheol’s arms. He catches you easily, laughing as he does so, amused at how delighted you are by his acceptance. 

“Yes! I love you. Now I get to make the bed all aesthetic with different layered sheets!”

Seungcheol laughs again. “All right, sweetheart. Tell me if you need more sheets to fit in with your vision, okay? I'll buy you whatever you need.”

“Oh my god, suddenly I love you even more.”

───────────── 🗝

Admittedly, Seungcheol does love hearing you say that you, the absolute love of his life, love him (and any self-respecting boyfriend would feel the same), but he's wondering if this entire thing is really, really all that worth it. 

Because, well. 

Seungcheol hates the Scandinavian Sleep Method. 

He harbours no hatred towards the Scandinavians themselves, of course, but their sleep method, for him, well and truly sucks. 

Of course, he can understand why people like it. There are aspects he doesn't mind, too: such as how it's currently way less likely for him to wake up at 4am with a cold ass because you've stolen half the covers from him again. Or how he doesn't have to worry about the fluffy, fuzzy feeling of your sheets pressing creepily soft kisses against his ankles. Or how he can now actually sleep peacefully without finding that he's been suffocated by your weight on his chest because now, you actually sleep on your side of the bed. 

Nevertheless, he hates this. 

Unfortunately, he can't bring himself to say anything about this, because—

“I seriously think my quality of sleep has improved so much,” you say to Seungcheol one Sunday morning, beaming over your cup of coffee as he makes breakfast waffles for you. “The Scandinavians really know what they're talking about, huh?”

And your eyes are bright, sparkling as you say this, so full of life even though it's nine in the morning on a Sunday. 

So Seungcheol smiles back, happy purely because you're happy, even though if you really pressed him, he'd admit that he's not really happy at all. 

“I guess they do,” he says, turning back to the waffles. “Do you want honey with the waffles? Or the new maple syrup I bought you?”

“Ooh, maple syrup, please!”

And then Seungcheol had done all sorts of fancy tricks with the bottle of maple syrup, and you had clapped your hands and laughed, delighted, and Seungcheol felt a little better, the weight of his guilt that he didn't share your opinion beginning to lighten. 

There's no real big reason why he hates this sleeping arrangement. Sure, it stops all your bad sleeping habits, but, truthfully, he… misses all those things. 

He misses waking up to you all huddled up in the blankets, looking all small and adorable whilst swathed in the thick fabric. He misses cuddling you close and entangling his legs with yours in order to escape from the weird fluffy texture of your sheets. He misses feeling the comforting weight of you asleep against his chest, warm and secure like the physical manifestation of his soul, safely tucked against his side. 

Now, you simply smile at him, face shiny and soft from your skincare routine, and give him a peck on the cheek goodnight before snuggling under your duvet, away from him, in your own little bubble of comfort. 

Without him. 

It makes him feel like an abandoned dog left in the rain outside of his owner's home. 

Excuse him for being dramatic, but he's literally slept with you curled up in his arms for a very, very long time now. And these days, now that you're no longer with him and are miles away on the other half of the bed, he can't fall asleep by himself. 

Withdrawal symptoms from cuddling must be a thing, because he's going through them right now. 

“Just talk about how you feel, then,” is what any sane person would say about this matter, which is very good, very sound, advice. 

However, it's also what Joshua says to Seungcheol when he complains to him about the new sleeping arrangement, and everyone knows Joshua is the least sane person in existence, so Seungcheol decides to ignore his advice. 

Joshua rolls his eyes, used to but not pleased by Seungcheol's stubbornness. 

“You're being silly,” he says, when Seungcheol vetoes his suggestion. “This is obviously impacting your sleep quality in a negative way, which is the exact opposite of what Y/N was hoping for.”

“But Y/N seems to be sleeping better,” Seungcheol argues. He rubs his eyes, and the world spins a little as he does so. “So I probably shouldn't say anything, right?”

“No, you should say something,” Joshua says firmly. “What do you think Y/N will do when it becomes obvious that this new arrangement is actively harming you, and yet you didn't say anything? Hell, if I found out my boyfriend wasn't telling me that kind of stuff, I'd get really mad.”

Seungcheol frowns. “What? Why?”

“Because you're my boyfriend?” Joshua says. “Uh—not actually mine, obviously. But that's how Y/N would feel. You need to communicate your feelings. That's what couples do.”

Joshua takes a sip of his tea, spinning around in Seungcheol's desk chair in his study whilst Seungcheol, the owner of the chair, is currently exiled to the small wooden stool beside it. 

“Just think about how you'd feel if you were in Y/N's shoes. How would you feel if your partner wasn't telling you that they're sleeping badly and feeling increasingly more terrible throughout the weeks because of something that could be easily fixed by them talking it out with you?”

And oh, now Seungcheol understands. Now it makes more sense. He'd want you to communicate your feelings immediately. 

Joshua must see the revelation on Seungcheol's face, because he snorts smugly. “I knew you'd get there in the end.”

“Shut up,” Seungcheol grumbles, and Joshua mocks him for how ridiculously macho-man he was being before. “I'll talk to Y/N about this tonight.”

“Well done,” Joshua says amusedly, spinning around in Seungcheol's chair so fast that its joints, even as expensive and well-oiled as they are, begin to groan in surprise. “I'm so proud of you.” 

 “Shut up,” Seungcheol says again, and Joshua laughs. “And get off my chair.”

“Hmph! You're so mean. I bought this chair for you, you know.”

“No, you didn't.”

“No, I didn't. But you believed me for a second, didn't you?”

“Definitely not. Now get out of my house before Y/N gets home.”

───────────── 🗝

It's one of those very, very rare days where you finish work later than Seungcheol, and so when you unlock the front door and finally make it inside, you're more than ready to just fall into your boyfriend's arms. 

Except, the entire ground floor of your house is dark when you get home.

“Where is he?” you say to yourself, mystified. “Cheol? Where are you?”

“In our room!” he calls back from upstairs, and you take off your coat and shoes, dumping your bag by the doorway and bounding up the stairs two at a time to get to your boyfriend. 

“Seungcheol! Why were the hallway lights off? Have you eaten dinner yet? What's— wait, what are you doing?”

In the middle of your bed, right over where the two halves of your bedding meet, Seungcheol is sprawled out in an upside down starfish shape, staring up at you balefully as you walk into the room, and you laugh a little at the state your boyfriend is in. 

“Hello,” you say amusedly. “You look like you're sulking.”

Seungcheol just continues to blink up at you like a displeased cat. 

You laugh again, bending down and kissing him on the forehead. “Definitely sulking, I see. What's wrong, baby? What happened?”

There's a long moment where Seungcheol doesn't say anything, and you continue to smile down at him, petting his hair fondly. And then, he frowns, and speaks. 

“What do you think of our bed?”

You look over at the head of the bed, scanning it briefly. “I think it looks fine.”

It's apparently the wrong thing to say, because Seungcheol frowns harder. 

“Why? Do you not like it?”

“I don't like it,” Seungcheol says, and sits up, turning around to face you. “I don't like this sleeping arrangement.”

You tilt your head. “Oh? I thought you didn't mind the Scandinavian Sleep Method.”

Seungcheol sighs. “I lied,” he admits. “I actually hate it so much. It's the worst thing in the entire world.”

Your face softens in worry, feeling something thick and bitter rising to your throat at the idea that you've been forcing Seungcheol to go through with something he hates. 

“I'm sorry,” you say sincerely, sitting down beside him on the bed. “I didn't realise. You should've said something, Cheol. I would've changed back in an instant.”

Seungcheol, for how big and manly and good at acting as your guard dog he is, still always melts under your touch, and the moment you wrap your arms around his neck, he softens into your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“Would you really?” he asks, muffled into your blazer, and you belatedly realise that you're still in your work clothes. You haven't even washed your hands. 

“Of course I would,” you say in your best don't be silly voice. “I don't want you to be feeling bad.”

His hands wrap around your waist, warm and comforting and he pulls you in closer, hugging you even tighter. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I feel like I'm being stupid. This isn't even anything big. It just… makes me feel really terrible, and I don't know why.”

“Hey, that's totally okay,” you say placatingly, threading your fingers through his hair and patting him consolingly on the back. “I told you we didn't have to carry on with this, baby. I said we could switch back whenever we wanted to.”

He squeezes you tighter, arms wrapping more securely around you. “I still feel bad. You liked this sleeping method.”

You laugh softly, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Yes, but not as much as I like you.”

If possible, he seems to melt even further into you at those words, and you smile, adoring how clearly he adores you. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” you say affectionately, kissing Seungcheol's ear before untangling yourself from his embrace. “Let's start remaking the bed then, hm?”

You pull away from his arms, and Seungcheol is staring at you with big eyes, irises all melty soft. And then he nods, smiling slightly, looking like a pleased puppy as he gets off the bed and begins helping you take the covers off the duvets. 

───────────── 🗝

It's unusual for Seungcheol to be so shy like this—normally, he's the one telling you to be more outspoken, more confident, so it's a nice change. You quite like being able to reassure him, gently tell him what to do, praise him and shower him with love in the way that he always does with you. 

“So why did you hate the Scandinavian Sleep Method?” you ask him a bit later as the two of you sit in front of the washing machine, watching it spin your bedding round and round. Seungcheol had insisted that you wash all of it right away, because otherwise the two of you were bound to put it off for a whole month. 

Your boyfriend shrugs. He watches the bedding get spun in circles again and again and again. 

And then, he finally looks at you, clad in your classic two-piece cotton pyjamas, hair all a mess, your face softened and natural now that you've washed up for the night, all ready to go to bed. 

You look so pretty like this, so open and comforting and god, Seungcheol had missed you. 

Even though he sees you every day. But that's whatever. He's missed being this close with you at night, in this kind of domestic setting, where it's just the two of you pressed close together in your house as the rest of the world sleeps. 

“That sleeping arrangement…” he begins quietly, and you look up. 

“Hm?”

Seungcheol holds your gaze very seriously as he continues. “It didn't let me hug you.”

You blink. “What?”

“It didn't let me hug you,” he repeats, as serious as ever, and you want to laugh in fondness because it really is that serious for him. “I couldn't cuddle you to sleep. I hated that.”

“Oh,” you say, positively melting away at his reason, so unbelievably in love with him that your heart is goo in your chest. “That's so sweet, Cheol, oh my god.”

You lean over and pinch his cheek, cooing over him, and he bats your hand away with a groan, smiling. 

“Go away,” he grumbles, but it's so full of warmth that the words carry no weight whatsoever.

“But then you can't cuddle me in your sleep,” you say, pouting exaggeratedly. “Unless… you don't wanna cuddle me any more?” 

You gasp dramatically, leaning away from him for full effect, and then yelp when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his side, preventing you from moving away. 

“Don't say silly things like that,” he reprimands teasingly, laughter tinging the ends of his words. He kisses your shoulder. “Of course I want to cuddle you. It's the only thing I'll be doing every night from now on.”

“That's awfully cheesy,” you point out. “Sap.”

“It's all your fault.”

“Huh, I suppose it is,” you say proudly, snuggling into your boyfriend. “Glad to know I have such an effect on you.”

Seungcheol sighs, fond, and kisses your shoulder once again. “Oh, if only you knew.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa  @weird-bookworm  @minhui896  @slytherinshua  @haowrld  @belladaises  @moonlitskiiies  @mirxzii  @zozojella  @kawennote09  @a-wandering-stay  @abibliolife  @wonranghaeee  @icyminghao  @sweet-like-caramel  @your-yxnnie  @odxrilove  @kyeomyun  @crackedpumpkin  @kellesvt  @eightlightstar  @onlyyjeonghan  @aaniag  @starshuas  @raevyng  @isabellah29  @hrts4hanniehae  @mcu-incorrect  @dokyeomkyeom  @suraandsugar  @tulsa24  @melodicrabbit  @dokyeomkyeom  @hopeless-foolery @aaa-sia

[sttoru]

#𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: “show me you’re shameless, write it on my neck, why don’t ya?”

cw. married!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, angst to comfort. cheating/infidelity. unprotected. crēampie. bréeding themes. soft angsty-ish sèx. petnames ‘baby, sweetheart, wifey’ not proofread !

satoru has never loved the woman he married. he’s never felt an ounce of attraction or affection towards her. it’s hard to be around someone who he’s supposed to love and cherish, when all he can think about is you.

it’s you he was supposed to end up with if it wasn’t for his damned clan. setting up an arranged marriage behind his back and only telling him last minute of their plans— a bunch of assholes they are.

satoru could’ve declined, disagreed, ran away. he had all the power to, but he had fully convinced himself that his actual soulmate - you - would never return his love, which is why he settled.

. . . he was proven wrong after it was already too late.

“i love you s’much,” satoru grits his teeth as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his sweat trickling down his forehead. his hips move in a gentle rhythm, as tender as his arms are holding you. he never treated you roughly.

satoru wouldn’t do that to the love of his life. the one who he’s supposed to call his wife, his beloved. he’ll find a way to achieve his dreams. he’ll do anything to end up with you and escape this messed up arrangement.

but for now, he’ll love you like this. every day, behind the other woman’s back, for as long as he can.

“i love you too, ‘toru,” you sigh, tilting your head to give the white-haired man access to your neck. his tongue wets your sensitive skin before sucking on it. he’s claiming you as his— like he usually does whenever he manages to get ahold of you.

“say that again,” satoru whimpers against your throat whilst leaving soft kisses all over. the sounds of your bodies meeting bounces off the walls, the lewd noise of flesh hitting flesh is a melody that you both enjoy behind closed doors.

“please,” satoru pleads. you’re surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. he holds onto you - ruts into you - like he’s never experienced this before. his cock twitches and throbs within you, desperate to reach that aching release.

you swallow the lump in your throat. you feel bad doing this right on the bed that satoru shares with his wife, but you also couldn’t care less. “i love you, satoru, i really do,” you moan near his ear.

the sorcerer shivers at your pretty voice uttering those three words to him. his big hands hold onto your waist, fingers digging into your skin, leaving small dents. his breath hitches, “oh, fuck. y’do, huh?”

satoru curses as he lifts his head from your neck. the view of you beneath him while you take his dick all the way inside your sopping cunt is addicting. it’s also way too slippery because of the mixture of cum on your lower body and the sheets.

“ah,” you look down at the place your bodies meet the second you feel his cock slip out of your pussy. you reach a hand down and guide his tip back to your folds without much thought.

it’s a sight that makes satoru nearly bust a nut right then and there. “missin’ me already?” he tilts his head, that boyish smile on his lips reappearing again. his soaked, white bangs cover his ethereal eyes a little, yet you can still notice the playfulness in them.

“yeah, i do,” you sigh, whining a little as his cock slowly fills you up all the way again, “i always miss you, ‘toru.” you never fail to feel so full whenever you’re intimate with him— he’s big and knows just how to use that to his advantage.

satoru pouts at your words. he knows what you’re indirectly referring to amidst all the physical pleasure. he tries to make as much time for you as he can, without raising suspicion. though sometimes he fails to see you for days. balancing his work schedule, along with his many other duties and his private life was a hassle.

it’s frustrating when satoru is leading a double life, for both you and him. there’s nothing more in this world that he wants than to have you beside him forever. as his wife, not his secret lover.

one day, soon— he promises silently to himself and to you with a kiss.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes out, his thrusts resuming. two of his rough fingers roll your nipple between them, his tongue following to circle the sensitive bud while he drives his dick in and out of you repeatedly. “but i’m all yours tonight, yeah? only yours.”

you nod mindlessly. you trust satoru, he’ll figure this all out. for now, you’ll enjoy every single second you’re able to spend with him.

“mhm,” you hum before your eyes focus on his neck. you know he’s told you not to leave any marks on him, but tonight, you’re feeling shameless. your hand on the back of his head pushes him down until your lips touch his neck.

satoru’s eyes widen at your unexpected action. he can���t deny you anything, even if this is a risky thing to do. he moans when you suck and bite on his skin. you’re leaving hickeys he will have to hide from his wife.

“naughty fuckin’ girl,” he tries to groan, though it comes out as a choked up whimper instead. he bites his lip and his eyes nearly roll back when your legs wrap around his waist, all whilst you’re leaving those dark marks on his neck.

you softly giggle at your own bold move. satoru however, seems to enjoy this more than he thought he would. he allows you access to his neck while he focuses on his set pace.

“y’ just want me to get caught, hm?” the white-haired man clicks his tongue, his balls slapping against your ass, your juices sticking to his skin which makes the sounds of his thrusts even louder. lewder. satoru huffs, “want that woman to know jus’ how well i fuck you, sweetheart?”

you feel your body heat up, the knot in your lower tummy tightening. his increased dirty talk only could mean one thing; he’s close. and so are you. the pleasure of having satoru inches deep in your cunt after not seeing him for two whole days, is driving you insane.

“yes, fuck— yes,” you hiccup, feeling absolutely no shame at this moment. you don’t care how loud you’re getting, if satoru’s neighbours were to hear him have sex with a woman that’s not his wife.

the man himself doesn’t even seem to mind it either. not when he’s this close. he pants before pressing soft kisses against your forehead. the lingering feeling of your lips against his neck remind him of the hickeys you’ve left.

satoru moans against your hot skin. his dick twitches, his balls tighten and his arms wrap around you to cradle you against his bare chest. he’s going to fill you with his hot cum like you deserve. you deserve every single drop and he wouldn’t give it to anyone else but you.

“shit, g’nna cum,” satoru warns after a small whine leaves his throat, “take it, baby. don’t waste a drop, wanna breed you full.” his thrusts turn a bit erratic, body pinning yours to the mattress so you have nowhere to run. all you can do is lay there and take it— take his cum while you reach your own climax.

white dots appear in his vision as satoru releases rope after rope of hot, sticky cum inside of you. his hips are pressed tightly against yours— leaving no chance for his seed to trickle out of you.

the satisfaction that fills satoru’s chest is like no other. a small grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he leans his body weight on top of you slightly, catching his breath. your trembling frame rests beneath him while you’re trying to regain composure as well.

“there y’ go, atta girl,” satoru coos and kisses your forehead. he treats you so well, even after sex. he treats you like you’re his true wife. which you should be.

he rubs your sides with his hands to calm you down. his own breath is still shake as he looks down at you with a grin. a wicked idea pops up in his head once he sees the thick trail of cum that’s left on your slit after he pulls out.

“y’know how i told ya that i’ll make y’ my wife one day?” satoru hums, eyes focused on both your face and cum-covered pussy. he has told you before that he will find a way to officially make you his.

and he finally just realised the perfect way to do it.

“mhm,” you nod with a dazed look in your eyes. you wrap your arms around satoru’s shoulders and hug him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. you can practically feel the smirk on his lips as his breath ghosts over your ear.

his hand travels down to your tummy, fingers splayed over the soft flesh; “good, ‘cause y’re gonna need to play the part for me already. gonna fill you up ‘til you’re nice and swollen with my kids, wifey.”

[eraserbread]

omg. i love horny pregnant wife so much. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE more with nanami or toji🙏 you’re such a talented writer ily

you're seeing sides to your husband, nanami, that you didn't even know existed... until three months ago when you found out he got you pregnant.

creeping into the second trimester, your body is in constant aching pain -- it starts in your abdomen, sometimes, morphing into cramps in your lower back as your belly begins to bulge.

it's knocked you into needing to waddle everywhere you go, and stuck in bed when he's not around.

but, this morning, he is around. you wake up alone, the sun is bright, and the air smells like miso and eggs. kento knows it's all you've been wanting to eat lately, so he wakes up early on his day off to make it for you.

his back is turned to you when you waddle into the kitchen, feet dragging in your house shoes over the cold floor. ken stands shirtless, standing at the stove, stirring a pot of soup -- it awakens something within you.

you're left staring in the doorway, swallowing down the thickness of absolute, carnal, bodily need.

you can't even find the strength to speak, all of the life you had is rushing between your thighs, burning you alive. biting your lip, you cross your knees.

of course, he notices you after a second, drawn in by the savory, familiar smell of you behind the waft of miso. kento peeks over his shoulder.

"love, you should have stayed in bed."

"why?" your whisper is fucked already, rasping and grating in your throat.

"because your body needs rest. doctor's orders." then he's turning around, steaming bowl of miso cradled in his grip.

you're sweating, watching his bare, sexy chest stare you down in a way that genuinely makes you feral. him and his ruffled hair, shadowed eyes, and furrowed eyebrows.

"pleasepleasepleaseplease," you're begging, mouth full of cotton as you're tearing through bedsheets. kento's situated behind you, thick tongue drawing masterful, sticky circles against your quivering cunt.

yours to the core, there's nothing he loves more than eating you up. since the pregnancy, that feeling is heightened tenfold. you're pulling off your pants, and he's getting that smell in his nose -- that hunger in his body.

and even better, your libido is coming back with this trimester, letting him take his time as he sucks you clean. face down, ass up - hips supported by a pillow, because he wants you to be as comfortable as possible.

kento lets you do all the talking -- all the blubbery crying and pitiful moans you've been keeping. it's like a river down here, buried nose-deep in your ass, his tongue can't keep up the onslaught of constant, dripping slick. he's full off of your taste, but that doesn't mean he won't give his wife what she wants.

"oh, my god. i'm gonna die. gonna -- gonna kill me 'f you don't put it innn!" you're arching your back when he pulls away, licking over his flushed lips, memorizing the taste so he can carry it with him throughout the day.

but, he's taking too long. just one second over your limit, and you're sobbing. "put it in! what are you fucking waiting for, it hurts!"

"oh..." kento doesn't react, knowing anything could set you off further. he does sit up, fishing his erection from his loose linen pants to slide between your aching cunt. he won't tease you for very long now, but he is curious to see how much you're willing to beg...

"you motherfuc-

that disrespect? kento uses it as fuel, and with one fateful swoop, he's burying himself inside of you, punching a guttural, needy scream from your chest.

"well, that's not very nice." he's growling, rolling his hips forward to chase some friction. closing his big body over yours, a single hand presses over the back of your neck, squeezing just enough to emit some pain. he doesn't want to actually hurt you now that you're carrying his daughter, but he does want to establish patience.

cursed nicknames have no space in your loving home.

"i'm sorryyyy--mmhmf!"

he's fucking you so well, now, thick, slippery cock sliding out to the tip, only to slam back in to the hilt. he hurts so good -- so wholly. it's like he's devouring you whole.

this feeling... it was so different, so perfect. all you can think about is your kento pressing another baby in you.

call it greed or lust, kento thinks it's something adjacent to absolute, abiding love and trust.

[rafesangelita]

♡ asking frat!rafe for permission to cum

warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, implied enemies to lovers, praise, slight degradation, dirty talk, slapping, overstimulation, fingering, oral (m. receiving), facial

“oh! fuckkk, rafe—” you couldn’t believe it. the president of one of the most obnoxious fraternities, and your most handsome headache, was pounding into you with a force that quite literally had you gripping his sheets like your life depended on it. “what? you always got some smart shit to say, why don’t you say something now?” he laughed, landing a harsh smack to your ass. you squealed at the stinging sensation, feeling utterly helpless as he fucked you speechless. rafe smiled at your lack of response, your fucked out expression only riling him up further.

“oh, that’s right.. you’re only smart until you have some cock inside of you..” gripping your skirt he had long since hiked up your thighs, rafe balled his fist into the soft material before picking up his pace, the sound of his skin meeting yours making your cheeks heat in embarrassment. you were completely at his mercy right now. your back ached from the mean arch rafe had you bent over in, your knees digging into his mattress as he kept your head shoved into his pillows. you couldn’t understand how you had let yourself get swooned by his icky charms.

rafe slowed down eventually, his fingers rubbing your clit into overstimulation as your thighs shook and trembled, your cries encouraging him to keep up his ministrations on your aching bud. “gonna cum for me again, princess?” rafe pulled out until only his swollen tip was nestled inside of you, his jaw falling slack as you clenched around him, your walls fluttering around the sticky head of his cock. “y-yes, can i?” as soon as he gave you the green light, you screamed into your palm, your poor sensitive cunt gripping him like a vice as you fell over the edge in a fit of tears and whimpers.

rafe held you up as your legs threatened to give out from under you, his lips coming down to whisper filthy obscenities in your ear. “fuck, just look at you.. you’re even more prettier when you’re cock drunk like this.” he nipped at the soft flesh of your neck, eliciting a shaky breath to leave your lips. “i can’t!” you attempted to crawl away from him as he gave your clit one final pinch, your chest caving in on itself as he slapped your puffy folds. “you can take it,” he pulled you back, replacing his cock with his fingers, “cause i’m gonna make sure you do.” rafe shifted his weight so he was now kneeling at your side.

tapping his length against your glossy lips, you welcomed him into your mouth as he curled his digits inside of you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your sweet spot. “you’re such a pretty fucking whore, ‘taking me so good in your throat like this.” he stroked your cheek, thumbing away a stray tear as you blinked up at him through your eyelashes. rafe closed his eyes, reveling in the way you swallowed around his length, your head bobbing up and down as you continued sucking him off with ease.

rafe hissed, his hand now cupping your jaw as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “ah, shit— you gonna let me paint that pretty face, hmm?” the corners of your lips lifted slightly in a smile as you nodded, the man above you cursing at the sight. slipping his fingers out of you, rafe pulled at the roots of your hair, forcing your head to stay up as he jerked himself off with his free hand. you watched as rafe’s muscles constricted in his lower abdomen, his hips stuttering as he groaned. “fuckfuckfuck—” your eyes fluttered closed when his cum shot out onto your face, the thick, warm ropes littering your skin as he shuddered.

“oh, my god,” he sighed, his head hanging in defeat, “stay here.” rafe got up and wet a face towel with warm water before helping you sit up against his headboard. he cleaned you off, only leaving behind a small drop so he could scoop the sticky glob with his finger, popping the digit into your mouth so you could lick it clean. letting out a shaky breath, you let rafe pull you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your shivering frame. “i like you so much more when you’re not lecturing me.” rafe whispered, rubbing soothing circles into your flesh.

thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[gyumazing]

"Wanna See?"

Basically, it was your finals week. Riki came over acting all upset because you were 'ignoring' him.

A/N: wrote this for less than an hour (hence the reason why it is a bit tacky) because I was bored and I am having post exam anxiety. This was very fun to write (I got second hand embarrassment while writing lmao).

Pairings: Nishimura Riki × Reader

Genre: Fluff × Suggestive

TW: Mentions of male genital. Low-key cat and dog dynamics.

“Bruh! Come here! Stop acting like a mysterious hermit.” you said, dragging your sulking boyfriend into the frame of your iPad's front camera.

It was a regular Tuesday night before your last finals exam, and your clingy-ass boyfriend decided to pop up unannounced in the dead of night under the guise of bringing you dinner. In reality? He just missed you and needed attention. Study session? Absolutely wrecked by whiny Riki in his signature black cargo pants and navy green hoodie.

“Why did you even come over if you're gonna act like a bish.” You rolled your eyes at him as he continued to refuse a selfie, his ever-deepening frown matching your own. You even tried sneakily inching your iPad toward him, but this man dodged like his life depended on it—like that 12MP lens was a sniper scope.

Then he yanked you by the waist and buried his face into your neck. You're not sure if it was a tactic to hide his face or if he was just being extra clingy, but either way—it was annoying. You shoved his face away.

“What’s your problem?!” he whined, his brows still furrowed like a grumpy cat.

You squinted. “No. What is your problem?!” you shot back, swatting his hands away. “I was peacefully studying and then you waltzed in, started acting like a toddler, and now I can't even take one cute pic of us?!” you hissed, teeth clenched.

In true demon form, Ni-ki bit your neck mid-sentence, earning a sharp curse mixed with his name.

“No. What is your problem?!” he repeated, this time with trembling lips and a suspiciously emotional tone. “I’ll be on tour for three months, and you didn’t even bother messaging or calling me!” His voice cracked. “If I didn’t come over tonight, I bet you wouldn’t even care even if I got eaten by wolves!”

You groaned like it was your final breath.

“And now you suddenly want to take a cute picture like you didn’t ghost me all week and act like I was some delivery guy when I arrived!” he huffed, biting your neck again.

“STOP THAT!” you shrieked and pushed his face off like you were warding off a vampire.

“I was going to visit you after my exams!” you snapped, mirroring his dramatic energy.

He hugged your waist tighter, now clinging like a koala.

“But that’s just one day before I leave! That’s not enough! Not freaking enough!” he argued like a pouty kid denied candy. “And where’s my kiss, huh? You didn’t even look at me when I walked in!”

At this point, you weren’t sure if you were dating a guy or babysitting a 6-foot-tall, sentient tantrum. You glared at him.

“I was reviewing, you dumbass!” you growled, grabbing his chin forcefully to face the camera. He grumbled out a protest, but before he could escape again, you smashed your lips onto his and furiously pressed the shutter button.

His gasp of surprise gave you the perfect opening to slip your tongue in. Just for science, of course. The pathetic little whimper he let out in response almost made you short-circuit. He gripped the back of your head, tilted slightly, and tried to suck your soul out like his life depended on it.

You pulled back after a few seconds, breathless and wide-eyed.

And there he was—Nishimura Riki, the cool boy with maximum aura (his words, not yours), tomato red and staring at the wall like it held the answers to the universe. He avoided your gaze and opened his mouth slightly like he was gonna say something profound... then he dragged you into his lap and hid his face in your neck again.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Bro, what the hell?”

He looked up, dead serious.

“I am not your bro.” And just like that, he faceplanted into your neck again. "Say that again I'm gonna smack you." He threatens.

You were about to roast him, about to suggest calling him 'sis' instead, but then—you felt it.

Your eyes went wide. You froze.

You suddenly felt something... poking you from below.

Now you were the one frozen, eyes wide in absolute horror.

You sat stiffly on his lap for a few seconds, every neuron in your brain screaming at once.

To confirm your worst suspicion, you discreetly shifted your hips—just the tiniest bit. But the moment you did—

“Hnghh…”

Riki moaned.

His hands gripped your waist tighter, and it felt like your entire soul just jumped out of your body and hit a backflip midair.

You panicked. Hard.

"What are you doing, baby?" he asked, dazed, his voice breathy and sinful and entirely too casual for what was happening.

You panicked even harder.

"Bro, your dick is poking me!" you blurted out with a nervous chuckle, trying—failing—to downplay the absolute meltdown happening inside your brain.

You and Ni-ki had been together for years. You’ve done a lot of questionable stuff—made out in cars, in hallways, even in the middle of a study session—but this? This was new. This was dangerous territory.

Ni-ki, now redder than a stop sign, didn’t look away. His eyes were glued to yours.

"That’s your fault…" he muttered with a dramatic little whine.

You slowly grabbed his wrists and tried to peel his hands off you so you could escape this abomination of a moment—

But the universe said no.

Riki held you back firmly, unintentionally pressing you down back against the very thing you were trying to flee from. And for the love of God, the sound you just squeaked was enough to make your souls burn in the pits of hell.

It sounded so womanly: It sounded nothing like you've ever sounded before.

Mortified, you shoved Riki back onto the couch like you were performing an exorcism and scrambled away, flailing like a fish out of holy water.

You made the sign of the cross with your arms, eyes wide like you’d seen Satan himself.

Riki blinked at you, clearly confused—then he started laughing.

“Devil be gone!” you screamed at him, still backing away like he had the plague.

“What?” he laughed through his red face. “It’s a normal bodily reaction, love. Don’t worry about it too much.” He tried to reassure you with flushed cheeks and zero shame.

You scooted farther like he had uncured demonic possession. “Get that ginormous thing away from me!” you yelped.

Ni-ki smirked, clearly entertained. But thankfully, he respected your space and stayed where he was.

“Ginormous?” he repeated, the grin on his face slowly evolving into the grin of a man whose ego just grew five sizes.

You nodded frantically. Big mistake.

His grin got even wider. "It's a perfectly manageable size, baby. Wanna see?"

“NOPE!” You squealed, hands flapping as you turned tail and ran straight to your room, slamming the door and locking it like you were under siege.

“Darn you, Nishimura Riki!” you shouted from behind the door, face buried in your pillow in defeat.

And from the other side, his smug little voice:

“You said ginormous.”

____

I luv him sm hehehe