#i know people have been into me as like a quick thing or sexually or whatever

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Stress Relief | Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Katsuki Bakugo x AFAB Reader 💋

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: A quick unedited one shot where the reader is stressed and Katsuki decides to help her de-stress :) Nothing complicated here, just sexy vibes.

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, fingering, lemon, Smut, Dirty Talk, Hurt/Comfort

It’s dark in your dorm when Katsuki Bakugo slips through the unlocked door. You’re starting to fall asleep when you see the door open a crack, the light from the hallway illuminating his pale features with its glow.

You’re exhausted and not in the mood to talk to him, not after the day you had. You glare at him from your bed as he quietly shuts the door behind you.

“Come on, babe. Don’t give me that look.” He groans, padding over to your bed and slipping beneath the covers beside you. “You know that I can’t take it easy on you when we spar. You don’t get special treatment in class just because you’re my girlfriend.”

You turn away from him to face the wall, ignoring him. Not only had Katsuki hit you with an over the top, uncalled for special move in training – it was a move you had never seen before. You had thought the two of you shared absolutely everything. You were almost at the end of your third year at UA, chasing graduation. For the past year and a half, you two had been daydreaming about starting a hero agency together. If Katsuki had hid an insane special move from you only to bring it out in a simple training match…what else was he hiding?

“I know that look.” He says as he wraps his arms around you. He’s so strong and sturdy you can’t help but melt into him. “I didn’t tell you about the move because I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought you would be more excited about it, honestly. Come on, babe. Don’t be mad.”

You sigh, your whole body sore from where he walloped you with his overenthusiastic explosion earlier that day. Finally, you acknowledge him. “I’ve showed you all of my special moves – even the secret ones. And yet…you kept this insane move a secret even from me. Sometimes I don’t think you trust me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, rolling your words around in his mind. When he does speak, there’s a tinge of hurt in his voice. A vulnerability that only a few people will ever hear form Katsuki Bakugo. “Babe…I didn’t realize I was keeping it a secret. I was really excited to show you. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t trust you. You’re the only person who knows absolutely all of me. You gotta believe that.” He squeezes his arms lightly around you, reinforcing the words.

You huff with frustration. “Yeah, I know, okay? I’m just really achy and pissed off that you decided to debut some flashy move while fighting me. Why couldn’t you unleash it on Kaminari or Kirishima?”

He buries his face in the back of your neck. “I was tryin’ to impress ya, is all.”

“I’d be a lot more impressed if you didn’t blast the hell out of me during a training exercise.” You try to scoot away from him and end up stretching out your muscles at an odd angle. You cry out softly at the pain.

“Did I hurt ya that bad?” He says, concern lacing his words. “You’re made of such tough stuff…but maybe I took things a little too far in the ring.” His hands run across your body soothingly, trying to rub out any aches and pains that he may have caused during your sparring.

“It’s fine. Honestly, it was a really stressful day and your new ‘special move’ was just the icing on top of the cake. I just need it to be the weekend already.” You sigh out. The past few weeks have been so stressful at school and at your work study. You’re tired and overworked, and you could really just use a break. Katsuki unleashing the full force of his explosion hell on you in class was definitely not something you were mentally or physically prepared for – all you want to do now is rest.

“I know you’ve been real stressed lately. Sorry if I added to it.” He mumbles into your shoulder, leaving light kisses along your skin. You shiver when you feel the tip of his tongue dart out to trace a shape on the sensitive skin of your clavicle.

“Hey…you know what we haven’t done in a while?” His voice suddenly brightens and his hand snakes down to grip your stomach lightly over your shirt. “I can think of a great way to give you a good dose of stress relief.” He smooths his hand down the plane of your stomach and finds the hem of your shirt, dipping underneath the thin fabric so that he can fan out his fingers across your delicate skin. “Let me take your stress away with my fingertips, sweetheart.” He begins to run his fingers back and forth under the waistband of your sweatpants. The sensual touch causes a sparking sensation to gather down in your core. Everywhere he touches, goose bumps pop up on your skin.

“…Kats.” You say, warningly. The walls of the dorm are notoriously thin, and you don’t want to be on the receiving end of one of Mr. Aizawa’s lectures about safe sex, creating a culture of respect, the dorm rules, etc.

“Just keep quiet. I’ll make it quick as I can. No one ever has to know.” He leans in and starts to plant slow, open mouthed kisses along your neck, his fingers dipping lower and into dangerous territory. He brings the palm of his hand to rest right above your panties and slowly starts to circle your clit from over the delicate cotton fabric.

“Oh.” You breathe out, your body coming back to life as Katsuki touches you. He’s always so direct, so sure of himself. His approach to sex is reflective of that – don’t beat around the bush, just get to the heart of the pleasure.

“Yeah?” He whispers wetly before nipping at your earlobe. “You like when I touch you here?”

“Duh.” You hiss through your teeth. Katsuki pulls his hand away from your pussy and you almost cry out at the loss of contact. He brings his ring and middle fingers to his mouth and sucks, coating them in a thick sheen of saliva. He then moves to touch you again, this time sliding his hand beneath your panties for better access. When his warm, wet fingers hit your clit – your body absolutely lights up. All aches and pains are gone – its just you, Katsuki, and his magical fingers.

He starts out slow, circling around your clit until your grinding your butt back into him. He loves this – spooning you while he gets you off. He loves a good power dynamic, and this is no exception. In this position, Katsuki has most of the control. He likes that you know it, too.

He circles your clit lazily for a while, letting you get a feel for it. As you start to buck into him, he decides to speed things up, dipping his fingers low so he can gather some slick from your entrance before sliding them back up to work more on your clit. Within seconds you’re begging for him to get inside you, and he obliges – slipping a single digit into you slowly while giving your clit the attention it deserves with his thumb. He lets you hump his hand, finding the angles that work best with your body and causing you to see stars.

It’s when he slips a second finger into you that you start to get close. You feel his cock harden against the curve of your ass, eager to please. He starts leaving a trail of hot hickies along your shoulder – sucking in your sensitive skin between his sharp teeth and then kissing over marks he leaves behind. The combination of sensations is far too much, and you feel yourself get closer and closer to falling off the edge. The way Katsuki's fingers are slipping, sliding, stretching...it's far too much. You want to groan in pleasure, but you keep your mouth shut as best you can.

His fingers pump in and out of you with practiced skill, and you clap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from moaning out his name for all of the dorm to hear.

“Kats!” You say in a muffled voice from behind your hand. “Kats, I’m close.”

That’s all he needs to hear. He brings his fingers out of you to focus on your clit for a bit, drawing circles and triangles and figure eights and whatever other fuckin’ shapes he knows how to make around your sensitive bundle of nerves until your legs are shaking. Then, when he feels he’s gotten you hot and bothered enough, he slides two fingers deep into your cunt, flicking them in an attempt to hit your G spot.

And holy shit he does.

Katsuki hits that delicious spongy spot deep inside you and your body jerks with pleasure. He smirks at the reaction, proud of himself for figuring you out so quickly. He hits the spot again and again and again until your pussy tenses up and falls into one of the finest orgasms you’ve had in your life. You cum so easily, your whole body shaking as he takes you apart with nothing but his fingertips. The waves of the orgasm hit you full force, your body tingling and jerking in time with his targeted movements. He lets you ride out your orgasm, mumbling quiet praise into your ear as you grind through your high.

“That’s my good girl, so perfect for me. Cumming on my fingertips so nicely. Fuck babe. Fuck you’re gorgeous. Keep cumming for me please.”

His words are just as sexy as his hand down your pants, and you can’t believe how lucky you are to have landed someone as hot as Katsuki.

When you finally finish, he slides his hand out of your panties and pulls you close. He plants a hundred kisses across your neck and shoulder, happy to have been of service. You lay in silence for a moment – you catching your breath, him glowing with pride at a job well done.

“Did I manage to take away some of your stress?” He whispers cheekily. The damn idiot is so proud of himself, as always.

“S-sure.” You try to sound calm, cool and collected but the break in your voice is enough. Katsuki knows that he achieved exactly what he set out to do. You melt back into his chest and start to doze. What a day it's been! You're too tired to speak anymore, but you manage to squeak out: “Thanks babe. Love you.”

“Love ya, too.” He says, settling in under the covers and planting a last kiss on your back. “But I’m still not taking it easy on ya during training.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Is the last thing you say before drifting off into a sound sleep.

[monstermp3]

♡

[lisired]

change your mind yet?

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, enemies to lovers-esque, choking, spit kink, haechan’s lowkey a cocky piece of shit, he calls you a bitch Lol

summary: You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).

word count: 4.6k

a/n: very much an oldie… not so sure about a goodie but i do love the ending. i had written this for a friend lol

You love him to bits, but Liu Yangyang is not your favorite friend right now.

Fairly, you one-hundred percent blame him for the predicament you’re currently in. You know he can be a blabbermouth at times and wouldn’t do it on purpose, but there’s no way you’d let him get away with quote-unquote accidentally telling your mortal enemy that you think he’s hot, and that you’ve been having trouble getting off.

It was yesterday evening that you were on FaceTime with your best friend, simply conversating as per usual. You were ranting comfortably to Yangyang about your troubles and how sexually frustrated you are, and he suggested you getting laid. That’s how the topic of Lee Donghyuck came. He was suggesting people, and when he asked you if you thought Donghyuck was hot, you replied yeah, but I wouldn’t touch his dick with laboratory safety gloves.

Fast-forward some hours later, he’s consentfully telling your mutual friend Renjun about your conversation, in hopes of playing matchmaker and finding someone for you to fuck. The problem? Donghyuck was around, and somehow overheard everything except the part about you saying that you’d never touch his egotistical dick.

So now you’re on campus, avoiding your egotistic mortal enemy like the plague.

Why do you dislike Donghyuck? The answer’s simple, he’s one of those guys. The ones that think they own the world, and that it revolves around them. The ones that think they can have any and every person they want, and treat people’s hearts like dirt. In short, you don’t think he’s a good person, no matter how hot he is.

When your final class rolls around, you think you might’ve successfully dodged him. You had another class with him today, but for some reason he was a no-show. Not that you care, his lack of presence was relieving. Then, you see him stroll into your Language Arts class, and the bright red cherry on top? He’s quick to snatch the seat directly next to yours. Oh, brother.

“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers. “Let’s talk.”

Your heart is racing, but you think you manage to conceal it. “In the middle of class?”

He shrugs, “Afterwards.”

You’re running out of here the second your professor dismisses you.

So, Donghyuck cornered you.

There’s no going anywhere as long as he has you like this, backed up against a wall, his hands on either side of you, and his gaze practically rooting you in place. You feel like you’re being stared down by Medusa, still as stone as you look into his eyes.

“So, let’s talk,” he grins, tilting his head. “A little birdie tells me you think I’m hot, you’re under a dry spell, and that you’ve been having trouble making yourself cum lately.”

“Did you hear the part where I said I wouldn’t touch your egotistical dick with laboratory safety gloves?”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t need my dick to have your thighs shaking, huh,” you’re blushing, actually blushing, cheeks aflame and your skin all hot. To make matters worse, Donghyuck’s hands move from beside you to sitting pretty on your waist, not moving lower or higher, cool texture of his rings pressing gently into your skin. The contact has you in an internal frenzy, but you chalk it up to you simply being touch-starved. “Don’t you see these lips, baby?”

Alas, you do see them. With his face as close as it is to yours, you can’t help but see them. They’re pretty and plush, kissable, and kind of do look like they could eat—no, no, no, no. You’ve been with your share of guys like Donghyuck, ones that like to talk about how good they are, yet are severely disappointing in reality. For you to even be considering sleeping with him just goes to show that you’ve struck rock bottom.

“D-don’t call me that,” you curse yourself for stammering, because he only finds it amusing.

“Why not? I think you like it, baby,” Donghyuck teases, “is that the problem? You like me, but you don’t want to like me? You don’t like that you know I could make you feel good?”

You loosen your gaze, unable to bare eye contact with him any longer, “Fuck you, Donghyuck.”

“Fuck me your fucking self,” he grabs your chin, making you look at him. If you can see anything in his eyes, it’s the unmistakable gleam of lust, so dark yet so tempting. “You want it, don’t you?”

God dammit, you do want it. But you refuse to have your name crossed out on his checklist, to be another notch in his belt. You know it would only boost his ego to have seduced the most stubborn person alive into fucking him, and you absolutely refuse to let that happen.

“No.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “No?”

“No,” you repeat.

You don’t know how you expected him to react, but he takes it coolly, dropping his hands and stepping away. Aw no, did you hurt his ego? The thought almost makes you laugh.

“Okay, but you know where to find me when you change your mind,” He smirks, and you hate how confident he sounds. Not if, but when. When you change your mind.

He strolls away, and you let him. You have bigger fish to fry, and you refuse to let some grade A fuckboy get in your head.

Unfortunately, you are not as in control of your thoughts as you’d like. This is bad, really fucking bad, you think. Last night, you actually successfully managed to cum on your own. That should be a good thing, but the reason you came is absolutely humiliating. An embarrassing, taking-it-with-me-to-the-grave secret.

You may or not may not have came to the thought of Donghyuck. How his fluffy hair would look clamped to his forehead, or how his forehead would look dripping with sweat. Imagining his fingers replacing your own, fingering you with his rings on, the coolness of them against your skin. But what really did it was probably the image of him between your thighs that was planted in your brain the second he offered himself to you. You thought of what good his lips could do, and how they’d look dripping all wet.

This is fucking terrible. You haven’t came in god knows how long, and the one time you do after forever, it’s because of the man you’ve sworn to hate until the day you die. Usually this is something you’d rant to your best friend about, but after what happened the last time you told him about your sexual frustrations, you decide you’re going to keep this one to yourself. If Donghyuck ever heard you came to the thought of him eating you out, he’d literally never in a million years ever let you live it down.

Today’s a new day, but you haven’t been able to shake off the shame, particularly because tonight’s Renjun’s party, and being one of his best friend’s, Donghyuck will undoubtedly be there. He’s posted it on his story and everything, not that you were checking. You overheard Yangyang talking about it. But either way, you don’t know if you’ll be able look him in the eye again.

“It’s a good thing you’re going out again,” Yangyang assures, walking next to you as you two stroll into the party, “maybe you’ll meet someone else to help you get out of your dry spell.”

He’s right. This is your chance to get laid, get over whatever that was with Donghyuck, and move on. You’re like, ninety-nine point nine percent convinced you’re only attracted to him out of sheer desperation. The measly zero point one percent comes from you being aware that you’ve thought he was attractive long before yesterday happened, but whatever. Forget it.

So you nod in agreement. Soon enough, you’ve settled with the party atmosphere. You’ve had a drink but you’re not drunk, and you’ve tried socializing but everyone seems so not your style, which is insane, because Donghyuck isn’t your style either. You don’t think. No, he’s not.

This is worse than you initially suspected. You can’t find anyone, and Donghyuck’s still running through your mind, being a complete and utter distraction and he’s not even here—

Speaking of the devil himself, “Hey.”

You spoke too soon.

“Ohmygod, if you’re here to try and seduce me again, I’m not interested,” you groan, hoping he gets the message and leaves you the fuck alone. At the same time you really don’t, but you definitely think you should.

Donghyuck raises his hands, “But I’m egotistical. I just came here to invite you to a game of truth of dare with the gang, lighten up a lil, won’t ya?”

You sigh. “Where?”

He leads you to the room where everyone is, and you make sure to scoot next to Ningning and Jennie, refusing to sit anywhere besides Donghyuck. All you hope now is that the bottle doesn’t land on you after him.

A couple of rounds fly by, and you’re still safe. You’re having fun, and the thought of him escapes your mind with ease. Even when the bottle does land on you, he doesn’t dare you to do anything crazy that you thought he would.

After Yangyang’s turn, the bottle lands on you. You’re not worried, because Yangyang’s your best friend, he wouldn’t dare you to do anything stupid.

Then he does exactly that.

“Seven minutes in heaven with Donghyuck!”

You’re going to kill him. You’re mentally plotting his murder right now. How you’re going to do it, when, and where you’ll hide his body. If he suspiciously winds up missing, you’re more than likely the reason why.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” Yangyang blows you a kiss.

You spit back, “Shut up, bubble guts.”

You hear him gasp in offense, but whatever he says is cut off by Donghyuck.

“Come on, babes. I can hear your lips calling my name,” he teases, and you groan, clutching your fist. You guess there’s no way out of this. Well, technically there is, but Renjun let Yangyang choose the punishment and he decided to make anyone who refused to do a dare eat a spoonful of sour cream. Mind you, sour cream by itself is disgusting, and this is probably why he and his stomach are frequently at war, so your safest option is getting in that room with Donghyuck for seven minutes. You don’t even have to kiss, you can just let everyone think you did.

So you follow him into the bathroom connected to Renjun’s room, and the second the door shuts, he has you backed into yet another wall. He grins, “Change your mind yet?”

You stand your ground. “No.”

“That’s fine, we can make out in the meantime and then see how you feel after seven minutes.” he replies nonchalantly.

Even though you’ve been thinking about it, you grimace. “Gross.”

“What? It’s not my dick, why do you act like you hate me anyways? Not that I’m really complaining, I like when things are hard.”

“Bet you do,” you grumble. “And if I’m acting, then I must be Viola Davis.”

“Eh, I’d give you Keanu Reeves.”

You glare. “On second thought, I’m almost willing to kiss you if it means you’ll keep quiet.”

“Well you’re in luck,” Donghyuck grins, “because that and giving head are the only ways to silence me.”

You cave in soon later, letting him pin you to the wall, your hands above your head as he kisses you hungrily. It kills you to learn that he’s a great kisser, because that means he’s actually good at something other than running his mouth and being the bane of your existence twenty-four seven. Though you don’t know how that’s possible, he’s gentle yet rough. Caring in his movement, though passionate in them too. The way he’s kissing you, you’d think he loved you.

In spite of your obvious attempts to try and touch him, to maybe run your fingers through his hair or hold his cheeks in your hands, Donghyuck doesn’t let you move. You can feel the teasing grin bloom from his lips, and conclude that it’s intentional.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be french kissing Lee Donghyuck of all people, yet here you are. You can’t say you don’t like it, though. That would be lying. While you’d never admit anything like it, the roughness in the way he kisses you has you throbbing.

Donghyuck’s lips are like a drug. You stop for a moment to inhale, and then you’re lips are latched back onto each other. Exhale again, then you take another drag, and the cycle repeats. You could do this for fucking ever.

Then, the timer chimes.

“Time’s up!” Chenle yells from outside the bathroom, and Donghyuck pulls always almost instantly, surprisingly readier than you are.

He looks hot as he pants, chest rising and falling then rising again. He smirks, “Change your mind?”

God fucking damn it. Time went by a little too fast for your liking. Your lips are swollen, but you want more of him, to feel him, to touch him, especially because he didn’t let you. You’re finally admitting to yourself that you want him, and you can’t ignore your cravings anymore.

“Donghyuck,” you whimper, not caring in this moment who hears you, “w-want you.”

He smirks. “I know, baby. You wanna prove to me how much?”

You nod. It’s pathetic, truly, but you need this at this point. So you let Donghyuck lead you out of the bathroom, and essentially the bedroom, ignoring the curious sounds coming from your friends. He leads you down the hall into a different, emptier room, closing and locking the door behind the two of you.

“On the bed,” he instructs.

You comply, the desperation that accompanies having not slept with someone in months and orgasming in weeks making you leap into action in an instant. Then there’s this raw part of you that has lusted after him before you fully came to terms with your desire, making you feel the way blood courses through your veins.

Donghyuck walks up and kisses you again, this time allowing both of your pairs of hands to roam freely as you strip one another almost bare. In an eager motion, you peel away his shirt and jeans, and he matches your yearn, leaving you naked. He pulls away from your lips to eye your body in awe.

“You’re a bitch,” he says, “but a beautiful one.”

“Really turned me on,” you deadpan.

He laughs yet pushes your back flat against the mattress, wasting no time in hovering above your body. The proximity has your heart racing a little quicker, a little faster than it was out of something like anticipation. Donghyuck dips his head but doesn’t kiss you like you anticipate him to, at least not on the lips. His lips scout your neck, soft and sweet against your flesh. He sucks at your skin, and your mouth gapes a little, sounding the most sweet gasp before he digs his teeth in suit. It makes you whimper aloud his name, which he clearly enjoys from the way he smiles.

Donghyuck repeats a course of similar actions as he mouth scoots lower, kissing and sucking and biting at your collarbone. Then he proceeds after some time, traveling lower and taking your breast into his mouth or his tongue swirling over your nipples. He trails kisses at your sternum, your stomach, all the while your breath getting caught up in your throat the more his mouth falls down your body. He’s so obviously teasing you, you know that much. He has a destination yet no rush to get there, taking his sweet, precious time as though he’s rich of it. And maybe he is, but your patience is running thin, and there’s only so much more of this you can take. “Hyuck,” you cry out of sheer desperation, “hurry up.”

“For someone who claimed not to want me up until ten minutes again, you really are desperate for me,” Donghyuck replies, drawing his mouth away, and hence all contact there was.

Refusing to simply take that, you retaliate, “For someone who claimed they could make me feel good, you’re doing a whole lot of nothing right now.”

“Keep running that sharp mouth and I’ll have to put it to better use,” Donghyuck answers. It isn’t like you’re against giving head, and it wouldn’t sound so bad if you weren’t so painfully deprived of the same satisfaction Donghyuck’s offered to give you. Sure, the speed—or lack of the—heightens the anticipation, but you need him to quit teasing or you’ll actually go insane.

“You keep acting like you hate me,” Donghyuck moves between your legs, and you aren’t prepared for what he does next. Something about the way he slowly smooths his single finger through your folds and draws it into his mouth for a taste is hot to you, thus making you wish he’d finally get on with it. “But your cunt is telling me that you love me. Love this.”

Well it isn’t like he’s wrong. You haven’t been this wet in ages, the dry spell you’ve been under being extreme and severe. Touching yourself has gone absolutely no where up until last night, when you somehow managed to cum harder than you have in a minute. You’re starting to think that having Donghyuck as your muse changes things.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. You’d love this more if he stopped making you wait, but you don’t say that aloud, starting to suspect that the more you complain the longer he silently decides he’s going to test your patience. After what feels like an eternity of touching you everywhere but where you desperately need him to most, Donghyuck’s tongue draws a line between your thighs. Then another, and another. It progresses into more with no particular rush, despite the inevitable whines you can’t prevent from falling out. “Hyuck,” you cry again, wishing he’d stop playing games.

Donghyuck teases, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you beg, “Please, please. I-I want, fuck no, I need this. Please, fuck—”

Your pleas are cut short the moment Donghyuck gives in, lapping at you with an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger. It’s so sudden that it gives you whiplash, and he has to grip your thighs to keep them spread a safe distance apart. He’s unstopping once he begins, tongue maneuvering as it pleases, roaming around freely though expertly. Had you known Donghyuck was as much bite as he was bark, you may have gave in to this much sooner than you did. Not only is he making you feel good, but he’s making you feel great. If you could taste heaven, it would be this.

Some moments pass, and the humiliating part is that it isn’t a lot of moments. Your thighs are trembling more with every lick, resulting in Donghyuck’s grip around your thighs to tighten out of consideration that you might successfully slip out of his grasp. You stomach turns, flips, and you’re vision is being clouded white, so close to an orgasm that it hurts. Donghyuck senses it, you know that he can, you can feel the arrogant smirk spreading across his lips once more. Just as you’re getting so close, as your orgasm is right there in arms reach, being dangled in front of you by a string, he snatches it away.

There’s yet another whine from you, but he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask, “Want you to cum when I fuck you, baby.”

Donghyuck removed his boxers, leaving them on the ground to be cared about later. His erection springs flat against his stomach in a way that makes you so suddenly inhale a breath, and you clench around absolutely nothing at all. You’re gawking at him as though you want to eat hm, and in a sense you do, but you can’t be blamed. It looks better than you could’ve ever imagined, decent length, decent girth. The real brag-worthy factor, however, is if he knows what to do with what god has blessed him with.

His dick nudges your slit. “Ready?”

Without wasting an eighth of second you give him the go-ahead, nodding your head at instance so fast it almost hurts your neck. He reacts equally as fast, prodding his dick between your folds and eventually your walls. It stretches you out perfectly, and the moment he’s in you Donghyuck’s moaning about how tight and wet you are. He takes a moment for himself before he starts to move, gliding in and out of you in an effortless motion.

So far, Donghyuck has lived up perfectly to your imagination and expectations, much better, even. You never would’ve thought he’d actually have the right to brag about how good he is in bed, but you see it now. He’s a god even, not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.

“So pretty, wish I could have gotten to you sooner. Always telling me that you hate me yet letting me fuck you like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve always wanted this,” Donghyuck says into your ear, and pecks your neck. “Are you always this needy? So desperate that you’ll let even me fuck you?”

“G-god, yes,” you don’t care about overpriding him anymore, just saying things because you aren’t in the right mind to care about anything other than his dick right now.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

You’re almost too fucked out to speak, just moaning and whimpering in a way you never thought you would for him, “Feels good, so… so good. Love it.”

If you were in the right mind to have shame, you’d be embarrassed by the way your number-one enemy is making you moan, and not just because of the volume, but because it’s his name your moaning so pathetically. Choruses of “Hyuck” sounding from you in plethoras, calling his name with no actual reason. You’re breathing in little shallow, quick breaths, too, mouth agape as your whimpers tumble into the air. It helps that Donghyuck’s also surprisingly vocal, calling your name back. To say the least, the way he moans your name is hot and gets you off a little more, in spite of you not needing the help. He has it all on his own, fucking into you deep and hard.

Donghyuck gropes your body too, heightening your pleasure by fumbling with your breasts or rubbing your clit with one of his free hands. He doesn’t focus on one particular part of you, showering your figure with pleasure and attention that makes the sex a billion times better.

“Can I choke you?” He asks, and the question catches you a little off-guard, but once you shake off the surprise, you give him permission.

Donghyuck’s hands slither around your neck, and he presses into your jaw with just enough force to make you look at him, and silently communicate that he wants you to keep your eyes him and his actions. His fingers press onto the sides of your throat, and you’re not sure what is a bigger turn on, the fact that he knows how to properly do it or the action itself. You think it’s a bit of both, you enjoy the thrill as you look defeated by your inability breathing, and the dark look in his eyes tells you that he enjoys it too, staring straight into your soul, watching you fail to take a breath.

He doesn’t loosen his grip on your throat as he commands, “Open your mouth.”

You aren’t in the mind to question anything, simply following instructions. His mouth hovers above yours, lips parting to spit in your mouth. The action takes you by surprise yet again, but you swallow almost instinctively, never looking away from him as you do.

He backs away once satisfied, smiling. “So good for me, baby.”

That makes you clench around him, which also brings Donghyuck the satisfaction of a moan or two. He loves the way you clench around him when he says things to you, a telltale sign that you’re enjoying this more than he knows you’d probably like to admit. This whole thing between you and him, him and you is that you’re too stubborn to admit your desire. It prides him that he finally managed to make you confess it, to admit that you’re no different from anybody else. That he can still get under your skin, and does a fairly good job at that. Not only does it make him feel good about himself, but it makes him feel good right now. Your reactions, all your moans and your fucked out face, the whimpering and the begging, it all gets him off more.

That knot in your stomach is forming again, and he has you clenching around him regularly soon afterwards, and he can tell that this time, it’s not because of his words. It’s because you’re about to orgasm. “I’m close,” you announce, once again feeling all the flips and turns twisting about in your gut. It’s a good thing Donghyuck’s close too, being obvious from the way his thrusts aren’t as smooth as they initially were.

“Me, too. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he urges you on, and you let him drive you to the edge.

He makes you see white again, vision fogging the color and your voice a high-pitched moan of his name as you climax, grinding your hips into his as you intend to ride out your orgasm. In some high, trance-like state, you’re not sure when he cums, but you know that it wasn’t that much longer after you did, and then he slid out, flopping beside you on the mattress. You lie there in near-silence that consists of nothing but heavy breathing, wondering to yourself if this actually happened. You don’t regret it, not now anyways, and it was definitely a satisfying way to break your dry spell, but now you’re starting to question if it was a bad decision. He hasn’t even asked if—

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, seemingly needing a moment to catch his breath before he could gather words.

His words cut through your thoughts, leaving you to accept that maybe he’s not that much of an asshole. It’s the bare minimum, so he’s still an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m good.”

“Good,” he grins. “So, you wanna ditch this party and go get some Chinese food? I’m starving.”

“You want to go get food with me?” you say, sounding wholly and utterly surprised and unconvinced. This man spends every other day of his life bothering you, and now he wants to pick up some food with you?

“I mean, if you don’t want free Chinese food that I’m paying for with my money, then fine, suit yourself, I’ll just get it by my—”

“No!” You interject, sitting up immediately as you scan the room for your clothes. “I’m down. Kinda hungry, too.”

“Good,” Donghyuck says. “Chop, chop. We don’t have all night, they close in like less than an hour from now.”

Standing out of bed to put your clothes on, you consider to yourself that maybe you’ve assumed a lot about him without getting to know him. He’s definitely got an ego on him, that a blind man can tell, but he’s not really an asshole.

“Yo, I just realized something.”

“What?”

Donghyuck smiles bashfully, “I don’t have my wallet on me.”

Nevermind. He’s one-hundred percent definitely an asshole.

[targaryenluvs]

HARD TIMES / EVAN BUCKLEY

PAIRING: Evan Buckley x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Whilst waiting for his appointment, Evan abstains from sexual encounters. Which is a bit hard whilst simultaneously having a crush on the girl from the coffee shop.

WARNINGS: Fluff, sex mentions, teasing, makeouts & sexual depictions

WORDCOUNT: 2.5K Words

A/N: I’m actually in love with this idea 😂 May or may not have made Buck a whiner 👀 As per usual, @megalony for giving me the inspo to finish this off - check out her Buck fic!!

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

He was cursed, indefinitely.

Getting rescheduled, running out of gas, random remodels galore. It seems as if someone was against him finally making his donation. But the waiting wasn’t the worst part, the no sex rule was major. Why on Earth had he stuck with it? Evan assumed it wouldn’t be too difficult, which it wasn’t.

Until he met you.

It was the fourth day of waiting and he’d changed his usual coffee place ever since they randomly only served skim milk. And he was happy to make the change, since his new place was actually three minutes closer as well as better. Ever since he saw you, he’d found himself ordering more than needed, adding a muffin or two, or ordering for the crew.

Anything that let him stare at you for a little while longer. You were always on time, every morning you showed up, ordered the same thing with the occasional additional treat. A smile on your face and always equipped with a kind compliment.

But Buck surprisingly couldn’t find it in himself to approach you. Whether he was too scared of embarrassing himself or he just liked staring. He found himself second guessing his actions at every turn. It wasn’t until you came in minus a smile that he worked up the courage to interact with you.

You were currently sitting outside, gazing at the oncoming traffic and people going about their day. The cup in your hands taking the brunt end of your restlessness as you tapped your fingers. The hand waving in your face brought you back, “Oh, I’m so sorry. Did you need something?” The man in front of you grinned, “Uh no, not really. I just- well you were…” He pointed out to the traffic before pointing at you again.

“Would you like to sit? Maybe it’d help you get your words together.” You joked as he laughed before pulling his respective chair, “Thanks, I’m Evan. But people call me Buck, whatever works for you.” You reached your hand out, “Y/n, nice to meet you Evan.”

Evan smiled before revealing the brown bag, “I uhm, well you looked like you were a bit down, so I ordered you a pastry. Thought it’d cheer you up.” Your regular pastry sat inside the bag, waiting for you to eat it, “Oh! You really didn’t have to, that’s so nice of you.” He waved his hand, brushing off your words, “It’s nothing really, just enjoy it.” You wanted to ask how he knew, but figured there was no point in it.

And the two of you talked for almost an hour afterwards, slowly getting to know each other better. The pair of you were quick friends to your surprise. And your relationship only grew afterwards, regularly catching up in the mornings over coffee. Which then turned to lunch together during his off day, and then dinner.

You knew it was quick, but you couldn’t help yourself, you really did like Evan. It was unbelievably easy to talk to him, he was such a warm person. And Evan sure as hell liked you. Every day he found it easier to get out of bed, overly eager to get to see your face and hear your voice. God, he could listen to you for hours.

He’d never really clicked so easily with someone, and he was grateful for it. It’d been a while since Taylor, it was refreshing to talk to someone and not just for a night. He found himself checking his phone every few minutes, hoping for a reply from you.

And everyone else noticed.

“What’s got you so happy Buckley?” Chimney asked from the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee. Hen glanced over to find Buck smiling down at his phone, “Nothing, just looking at photos.” Hen circled back to him, sitting down across from him as she surveyed his body language. You and Evan had been out last night at a movie, and you’d both posed in the cardboard cutouts.

The photo he was looking at had you as a bodybuilder and him in a dress he looked “absolutely stunning in”, according to you.

“It’s like your face is permanently smiling. Please tell me it’s not frozen.” She poked his cheek before he swatted it away, “Can I not just be happy?” Chimney shrugged before settling down next to Hen, “You can be happy, as long as you tell us what, or who, has you feeling this way.” Bobby came towards the trio, Eddie in tow, “Who’s feeling what?” Hen chuckled, “Seems we’ve got a smitten Buckley in the house. We’re trying to figure out who’s making him happy.”

Buck rolled his eyes before getting up, “It’s really not that big of a deal guys, cmon.” Bobby shook his head, “Yes it is, someone’s in love.” The group laughed as Evan shook his head, “Not you too, I thought you were sensible.” He shrugged his shoulders, “I am extremely sensible, and curious. What’s their name?”

“Her names Y/n, and that’s all you get to know for now. Damn vultures.”

“Don’t make me circle back for you Buckley!” Hen shouted out as Evan made his way down, what he didn’t expect was for you to be waiting for him. “Y/n?” You turned swiftly to meet his eye, “Hey Buck, you called me?” His eyebrows furrowed, “It must’ve been an accident, I’m sorry. But you didn’t have to come here.”

He was thoroughly impressed, did a phone call from him warrant a visit? Not that he was complaining. You looked even more gorgeous than usual, and you smelled—

“Yeah but we were supposed to meet for lunch, and you didn’t reply, I only got a call.” His eyes widened in realisation, he’d forgotten your date. Was it a date? Did you think it was a date? Is that why you were wearing a dress? You said you usually only wear them for special occasions or people. Was he a special person?

“I’m so so sorry, it must’ve slipped my mind. We just came back from a run. We can go now for sure.” Your smile spread as he spoke, “Is something funny? Please tell me I don’t have sauce on my face.” Your laughter filled the air, did you know that your eyes creased when you giggled? Your nose also scrunched, god you were cute.

His eyes trailed up to the balcony, where his entire team stood staring before straightening up, “Mhm, the top of the trucks are so pretty. Probably shiny too.” The random topics of conversation were more than enough to alert Evan to the eavesdropping taking place. “Guess you might as well meet those idiots.” You smiled, “Lead the way Firefighter Buckley.”

“Oh! You are brilliant!” Chimney exclaimed as the rest of the group laughed uncontrollably. Buck sat with his arms crossed, “It’s not even that funny!” You couldn’t help but pat his bicep, “Of course you don’t think it is!” You leaned into him as you giggled, practically pushing your chest into his arm.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

Evan’s eyes were staring right into Eddies soul, as Eddies laughter died down, “You okay?” He mouthed as the man across him from blinked rapidly before nodding. Eddies eyes trailed to you, and your low cut dress before returning to Buck. Oh, oh! Eddie smiled, “That’s a really lovely dress Y/n/n.” Evan’s eyes narrowed, wishing a few horrible accidents upon Eddie.

Murmurs of agreement broke out from everyone else, “It really is, what do you think Buck?” Evan’s lips drew into a tight line, “Oh, yeah. Definitely, they look good in it. I mean— you look amazing. Really good today. Not that you don’t usually, you always look so good. And smell! Not that I smell you, you smell. Good! You smell good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he stumbled his way through his monologue, “Good to know Buck, good to know.” You promptly turned to Bobby, “Yknow Evan never shuts up about your cooking, would I ever be so lucky to experience it for myself?”

Buck zoned out of the current conversation, replaying his epic fail in his head.The tightening of his pants had him shifting around uncomfortably, and Eddies grin aimed his way was getting to him.

He was going to kill Eddie.

Dinner that night was probably amongst one of the best dates he’d ever had. And he had asked you before you went out whether or not it was a date, repeatedly. But it was also a test of strength. You’d decided to wear a gorgeous dress, designed to test his patience.

And as if that wasn’t enough, he’d made the stupid mistake of inviting you back to his apartment.

Which, A) Gave the impression that something was going to happen.

B) Maybe made you think that he thought you were the type of girl to put out easily.

And Evan never wanted you to think that.

With a few glasses of wine, sweet music and amazing company you were bound to end up on his bed. Evan’s hands were soft yet controlling, lifting you up onto his lap to straddle him. “God you’re gorgeous.” He murmured into your neck as you giggled, “Is that so?” He smiled up at you as your arms locked around his neck, “Definitely.”

“Then we should settle in for the night, no?”

Evan wanted to curse his own mind for reminding him, maybe he could make the deposit another time, right? He knew it was wrong to think this way, but how could he stop himself from going all the way with you on top of him? “Dammit, I am so sorry. But I can’t.” Your swiftly lifted yourself off his lap, settling down next to him.

“Hey that’s fine, you’re not being forced into anything Buck.” Evan groaned as he leaned in to capture your lips again, “You are so annoyingly understanding. And I love that about you, it’s one of the many things I love. Including this gorgeous lace.” He joked as he traced the strap of your bra. “Oh hush, what’s going on?”

“Promise you won’t freak out?”

“Promise.” You smiled before grabbing his hands, with wide eyes filled with curiosity staring up at him, he couldn’t help but feel the pressure. “An old friend asked me to be a sperm donor, and before making my donation, I thought it best to uh…” You raised an eyebrow as Evan struggled to find the right words, “To keep my swimmers in the tank, if you catch my drift.”

“I catch your drift, or is it a flow?” Evan rolled his eyes as you raised yourself to kiss his cheek, “I fully understand, you don’t have to be sorry. I think what you’re doing is absolutely amazing Evan, helping to start a family? That’s really sweet of you, but it must’ve been a hard decision.”

And that’s what the loved about you. Your willingness to listen, to wait and understand what you were being told. Most girls Buck had been with had never really seen everything about him, nor understood him. With you felt truly seen, and heard. Never judged. And you were breathtakingly beautiful, which was a nice bonus.

“It was.” He watched as you grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, “If i’m half naked, so are you. Now let’s sit and talk, when did you decide to help them out?”

For the rest of the night, the two of you simply laid in bed and cuddled, looking up at each other. Whilst you talked, Evan found his eyes trailing down your body. The two of you were in your underwear, and you your bra. With you practically ontop of him he found an intruder settling in.

“What is that?” You whined from underneath the covers, “Uh, maybe it’s my phone?” Evan rationalised as you stared at him, “Unless I stole someone’s phone and put it on charge, I don’t think it’s a phone.” Evan tried to stop you before you raised the covers, “Oh.”

“Well hello there.” The pillow was swept from underneath you as Evan buried his face in it, “Don’t,” Your laughter made his heart beat faster, and your hand which circled his crotch made him buck his hips upwards. “Oh god, please don’t.”

“Don’t… what?” Evan buried his head into your shoulder as you continued to tease him, it was the funniest thing you’d seen all day. And a helpless Buck was a fun one. “I like hearing you beg.” He slammed the pillow down onto his lap, “Y—you can’t say things like that!” His cheeks were turning red, whether it was embarrassment from his stutter or your hands, you liked it.

“Sure I can, just did. And you want to know something Evan?”

“Not really.”

“Indulge me,”

“Okay.” Evan gave in as you leaned into his ear, “I don’t sleep well with anything on.” You quickly kissed him before unclasping your bra, throwing your undergarments onto the floor and settling back in.

“Goodnight baby.” You smiled before turning off the lamp.

It was going to be a long night. Evan sat in the dark for about an hour before his situation calmed down, if he was sure of one thing? You were going to be the death of Evan Buckley.

It was donation day, finally.

Evan was practically bouncing off the walls after his shift, zooming down to the clinic before another mishap ruined his donation day. And luckily for him, he was given a cylinder and a few magazines before being sent on his way. His fingers drummed against the wheel of his jeep, he was having a good day.

The only thing better? His date with you tonight. What he hadn’t expected was to come home to candles, rose petals and his favourite girl happily sleeping in bed.

“Uhh, Y/n?” You sat up straight away in bed, “Evan! You’re back!” He walked up the stairs before setting his phone and keys down, “Whoa, you look…” You were wearing one of your favourite sets, and a new favourite of Evan’s, it didn’t exactly leave a lot to the imagination.

And he’d seen more than enough of you.

“Oh god, you look so good.”

“Well you’re extremely lucky, this is all for you. Almost five weeks, you did so well Evan.”

“I did well?”

“Yes you did, and you know what?” Evan shook his head rapidly, he was itching to touch you, “I cleared the day tomorrow for you and me, we can stay here as long as you’d like.” Evan felt weak in the knees, “Oh I love you. Now can I please throw you into bed?” You giggled before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You can do whatever you’d like, Firefighter Buckley.”

“Oh, Firefighter Buckley?” Evan pushed you down to the bed before climbing over you, “Mhm.” His hands lifted your gown slowly, stroking the soft skin, “Now I really want to see you in my coat.”

“Oh? What, with your name on the back? All yours aren’t I?”

“That you are. You’re not gonna be walking for a few days.” Evan teased as he planted kisses along your neck, you raked your hands through his soft hair, “I’m definitely not complaining.”

Hard times have good outcomes, or something like that.

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part four)

series masterlist & main masterlist

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, fighting (verbal).

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: I don’t have much to say other than enjoy! Please leave your thoughts and opinions in the comments or message me! I’d love to hear what you have to say <3

part four: friends for now?

Hugh let you drag him through the club by your intertwined hands. The crowd seemed to be never ending as you walked through, trying to make it to the bar. A few people stopped you along the way to congratulate you and give their praises, but the night no longer felt special. It didn’t even feel like these people were here for you. They were just strangers attending a random party. Most of them already way past tipsy and probably wouldn’t remember anything in the morning. When the bar was in sight, you did a quick scan of the area. In the right corner, you saw a small, tall table that had two tall stools, perfect. 

“Heyyy y/n! I’ve been looking for you!” Ashley yells over the music with a big smile on her face. You don’t miss the way she glances back at Hugh. “Where have you been?” She asks and you can hear the accusation that’s hidden behind her words. Hugh squeezes your hand and it makes you realize just how close he is to you, the front of his body a whisper away from touching the back of yours. “I’ve been making the rounds. I was looking for you but kept getting stopped along the way.” You’re yelling back at her, trying to sound alive and bubbly by letting a laugh out at the end. You weren’t sure if she bought it. Ashley gives you a look that tells you she doesn’t. “We were gonna grab a drink, you wanna come?” You offer her but she shakes her head. “No, I have one over there.” She points to a group of girls sitting at a larger table that sits on the left side of the bar. “I’ll see you later okay?” She leans to give you a quick hug and she notices the point of contact between Hugh and yourself. “Don’t be stupid y/n.” She whispers in your ear and leans back from the hug with a smile. “Love you!” She’s yelling this time as she walks away. Her comment made your chest burn. You could tell that she thought something more was happening between Hugh and yourself but he saved you. He helped you get away from Pedro and she had no right to be accusatory. 

This night kept getting worse, the only thing keeping you from going home and leaving your own party was the warmth of Hugh’s hand. The warmth suddenly vanished, Hugh letting go of your hand for the first time since he helped you off of the couch in the backroom. He pulled back one of the stools for you and offered his arm to hold as you climbed up to sit. Your foot faltered slightly, causing your leg to buckle, but Hugh was quick to grab your waist to stabilize you. “Thank you.” You say again. 

“Do you want a drink?” He asks julting his thumb towards the bar behind him. 

“Oh! I'll take a pop my cherry margarita please.” You smile, voice full of excitement. Hugh lets out that rich man laugh that you haven't heard since the day you met him. 

“A WHAT?” He’s still laughing, it’s so contagious that your own laughter slips past your lips unexpectedly. 

“Pop my cherry margarita. It’s a real thing!” You explained to him that you wanted to create a drink menu that matched the album song titles. It was the one detail you really had a say in. “I thought they were handing out pamphlets at the door that explained that. Did you not get one?” Hugh’s eyebrows furrowed but they relax just as fast as he pulled a folded up pamphlet from his back pocket. You gasp dramatically. 

“You didn’t read it?” Your voice held a joking tone but you couldn’t help but feel a ping of hurt within your chest at the thought of him not taking the time to at least skim over the silly little paper. 

“I was looking for you when I first got here.” He admits shyly, an emotion you didn’t know Hugh was capable of having. He was always so confident and loud, never shy. It was cute. 

“Well in that case, you are forgiven.” His words made your heart swell. 

“I’ll be right back.” He gives your shoulder a light squeeze and walks over to the bar. 

Taking a look around the room, you’re glad that people are enjoying themselves. Your album only has three more songs to play before you’d have to go back on stage to give your thanks again. The club was booked all night, meaning that everyone was welcome to stay until it closes at two am. You didn’t plan to stay that late and after the events of the night, you weren’t sure if you’d stay any longer than your second ‘speech’. You glance back over to Hugh. He’s leaning on the counter, making conversation with the bartender. He was so charismatic, easily falling into conversation with anyone he met. You were certain that there wasn’t a person in the world that disliked him, he was the definition of likable. The reality of the situation was starting to settle more clearly now that your mind wasn’t clouded by the brief altercation with Pedro. Hugh hadn’t left your side since the moment he found you, he helped you collect yourself, and now he was ordering you a drink. You weren’t sure what this meant for him- you knew exactly what it meant for you. All of his acts of kindness were starting to overfill the file in your head labeled ‘big fat crush on Hugh Jackman’. 

“Here you are, one pop my cherry margarita.” He slides the glass in front of you and sits in the stool across from you. The drink is a bright red with a silver shimmer throughout. Two cherries sat on the top of the ice with a lime hugging the sugar lined rim. You took a sip, the tequila a little too strong for your liking, but the sweetness of the cherry and the slight hint of lime was refreshing.  “Mhmm that’s good. What'd you get?” You ask while squinting at his drink. “Slut me out martini?” He says unsure. You laugh. “Hm. Slut me out is probably my favorite song off the album, a good ‘ol dirty martini fits the vibe of the song.” He takes a sip and nods. “Hey.” You say to catch his attention again. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to actually listen to the album. You’re probably disappointed, given you’re such a big fan and all.” You’re mostly joking, the only sincerity being behind the fact he didn’t get to do what he came here to do. What you invited him here for. “Stop apologizing sweetheart.” He grunts out giving you a pointed look. 

“I did hear the first few songs, they were really good.” He says, taking a sip of his martini. 

“Just good?” You question. It looks like he thinks for a moment before speaking. 

“They’re surprising.” He says slowly. “How so?” You’re quick to respond. 

“Just… didn’t expect it. It’s different from your other stuff, it’s seductive.” 

“Hm..are you seduced?” His eyes lock onto yours. Your tongue darts out to pull the straw that sits in your glass to your lips. You can see his eyes move down towards your lips as you suck on the straw. When his eyes match yours again, he’s repositioning himself on the stool and lets out a low chuckle. “You’re something else y/n.” He shakes his head and you hum in satisfaction. 

You glance over to the dancing crowd, eyes moving over the groups of people. You meet Stacy’s eyes and you can hear the buzz of the last song fill your ears. She started making her way towards you, disappearing every few seconds as she weaved through people. “Shit.” You mumble as you try to think of ways to get out of getting on stage and thanking everyone again. “What’s wrong?” Hugh’s voice was filled with concern, the same tone he had used earlier in the night. “Stacy..my uh.. my assistant, I guess, is making her way over here right now and I like really, really don’t wanna go up on that stage again.” You frown. You were being stubborn, you knew that. The smart side of your brain tried to tell you that it wasn’t professional to just leave your own event. 

“C’mon.” Hugh is standing up quickly, offering his hand once again. “Huh?” You asked him, confusion written all over your face. “I’m getting you out of here. Let’s go.” You look around the room one last time. Stacy is about ten feet away, stress present on her face. “Okay.” You grab his hand and he helps you down, his other hand instinctively meeting your waist. “Y/n! I needed you on the stage like three minutes ago!” Stacy yells across the lowering distance. Hugh tugs your hand and you follow. You’re trying your best to keep up with his long legs as he walks swiftly through everyone. He pushes open the door and flashing lights blind the both of you. Covering your face, you tried to block the paparazzi’s cameras, completely trusting Hugh to guide you through this all. Once you reach the small parking lot that sits on the left side of the building, Hugh is opening the passenger door for you and helps you in. He hurries over to the drivers side and drives off as fast as he can, escaping the leeches that are trying to take as many pictures as possible. “Oh my god, you’re literally a life saver.” You say, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Pulling out your phone from the small purse that’s been draped on your shoulder most of the night, you sent a quick text to Stacy, responding to the endless texts and calls you’ve received from her in the past five minutes. 

You: I’m sorry Stacypoo. I’ll explain later. Love you <33

You knew work Stacy would be mad at you for some time but once you explained everything, friend Stacy would understand. “Do you want me to take you home?” Hugh asks. “Yes please. I’m pooped.” You huff out and he chuckles. You connect your phone to the car bluetooth and set your address on the GPS. The silence in the car calmed your body down at a rapid rate. Exhaustion took over your body and you could feel the ache in your feet from the heels. You were only at the party for an hour, yet it felt like you had been there all night. Looking at the time, the clock read 11:30pm. Hugh was quiet and you were afraid you might have caused too much trouble for him. That he wouldn’t want to be around you again after this. “Thank you Hugh. Really, you totally made this night so much better.” Your head is leaning against the headrest and you roll it slightly to look over at him. The faint light coming from the street lights shined on his face dimly. He was so handsome. You wanted to tell him. “You don’t have to thank me. I enjoy your company.” He glances in your direction with a smile. The silence fills the space again.

 “Did you purposely wear a gray shirt to match my outfit?” You asked curiously. You meant to ask earlier but it slipped your mind. “What?” He’s smiling. “You heard me. Did you?” Your tone was teasing. “Maybe.” 

“Yes or no Hugh Jackman.” His name rolled off your tongue in a joking matter. You could've sworn you could see a slight blush but it was too dark in the car to tell. “Is this it?” He asks, pointing to your house. “Yea that’s me.” 

He pulls into the driveway and puts the car in park, cutting the engine. Hugh opens his car door to get out. “Oh! You don’t have to get out, it’s okay.” He ignores you, walking over to your side of the car anyways, closing the door once you’re out. You awkwardly walk up to your front door and search your purse for your keys. When you find them, you turn around to face Hugh. “Thank you for driving me home Hugh.” “No problem sweetheart.” He smiles warmly and you take a moment to take it in. Your eyes rake across every wrinkle in his face, showing the life he’s lived. His smile lines set deep into his cheeks and you can’t help but think how perfectly they suit him. His facial hair was just past a stubble but not quite filled out into his full beard yet. “I should get inside, don’t wanna keep you out any later.” Your voice is soft and you want to invite him in but you couldn’t. “Okay darling.” 

This crush on Hugh was something that felt deeper after tonight. If anything were to happen with him, you wanted it to be right. No rushing. The feeling was mature. Hugh was someone you didn’t want to lose, no matter how he fit into your life. It was a little scary to think about- how much you wanted him in your life. 

“Goodnight Hugh.” 

“Goodnight y/n.” 

You turn to unlock your door and just as you're twisting the handle, Hugh wraps his large hand around your arm. He gives you a small tug, urging you to turn around. “Y/n…” He speaks softly. “Yes?” He doesn’t say anything. “Hugh, are you okay?” His hand releases your arm, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks. His hands are rough. You can feel a few calluses along his hand, undoubtedly from the gym.  He’s searching your eyes but you're unsure what he’s trying to find. “Can I kiss you?” 

Oh. 

“Yes.” It’s barely audible, the only confirmation that he had heard you came from his lips meeting yours. The kiss was slow, soft, like he was afraid to move too much. Hugh’s lips melted into yours perfectly, dancing together in a rhythm that felt natural. He was bent down slightly to match your height, your heels aiding him. He was the one to break the kiss, you weren’t sure if you would have ever stopped kissing him if he didn’t pull away. You wanted to ask him so many questions, get into his head. You always had this impeding urge to know everything but you wanted to live in the sweetness of the moment. Hugh’s hands dropped from your cheeks and a small smile rested on his face. “Goodnight gorgeous.” He kisses the top of your head for the second time that night. “Goodnight..” You walked inside, standing half way out of the door, waving at Hugh as he drove away. 

You: text me when you get home so I know you got home safe! p.s. ur a good kisser.  

Walking around your house, you slowly stripped from your outfit, gathering your things to start your nightly routine as you waited for Hugh’s text. You hopped into the shower and thought about the crazy events that had happened in just a few hours. The kiss was something you hadn’t expected and it was killing you to not know what it meant for your relationship with Hugh. When you were brushing your teeth, your phone lit up on the bathroom counter. 

Hugh <3: Just got home. You’re not half bad yourself lol. 

You: really though, did you try to match my outfit? 

Hugh <3: Goodnight y/n… 

You: fine. I’ll get the truth out of you one day!! 

You: goodnight hugh! <3 

When your head hits the pillow, all you can do is think about the feeling of Hugh’s lips on yours, his hands on your face. You fell asleep with a smile on your face. 

—

The constant buzzing of your phone woke you up. It’s been going off for close to an hour and you tried your best to ignore it but the vibration under your pillow was starting to give you a headache. You winced at the brightness of the screen as your eyes adjusted to the light that invaded your eyeballs too suddenly. Squinting at the name, you let out a sigh. “Oh fuck me..” 

“Hi Stacy…” You say it sweetly, hoping it would ease whatever was coming your way. “Y/n, I need you to explain why the fuck you decided to run away from me last night.” Her voice is eerily calm, you’d prefer if she was yelling at you. “Oh yea…” You clear your throat. “So you know how when we started to plan the event, Pedro and I were still very much together?” You ask and she gives a short ‘yes’. “Well, when we had the last meeting, I completely forgot about him being invited already and forgot to take him off the list.” “Y/n, can you get to the point please, the label is on my ass right now trying to clear things up.” “Sorry…he uh.. Pedro showed up last night and he was mean Stacy. He kept saying how he wanted me back and he kept trying to grab me.” Your voice falters slightly. You couldn’t understand how Pedro, who was once so sweet and loving, had turned so cruel. “I’m so sorry y/n… I didn’t know, nobody knew.” You can hear the sympathy in her voice. “It’s fine, it’s over. I tried to stay, but I really wanted to leave. I’m sorry Stacy.” “It’s fine.” She sighs.

 “Have you been on your socials yet?” 

“No…why?” 

“Look at what I sent you.” 

You put her on speaker and open the text thread between Stacy and yourself. There were at least a hundred texts from her between last night and this morning. You click on a link she had sent and when you opened it, there was a picture from last night of Hugh and yourself leaving the party hand in hand. There were articles upon articles questioning if Hugh was your ‘new older fix’. There were also pictures of Pedro leaving the party with rumors of you cheating. It was all one big mess, but every single article seemed to agree on one thing:

Y/n L/n was a slut who liked older men. 

They weren’t completely wrong, you loved being with an older man, but you weren’t a slut, or a cheater, or a gold digger, or any other names they had called you. The rumors and name calling never bothered you but it always had a negative effect on the men in your life, even if they never got the shit end of the stick. It was why Pedro broke up with you and why everyone before him never wanted to make anything official, or even be seen with you. You felt so stupid for not telling Hugh that you needed to go out the back way, that he shouldn’t be seen leaving with you. Your dating life brought nothing but a bad reputation and you didn't want Hugh’s name involved in it. You're thankful that this article was centered on dragging you down and not Hugh. 

“Shit..” You whisper. “How mad are they?” You ask, referring to your management team. 

“They’re pretty pissed off. They keep nagging about how they warned you with Pedro. They’re worried about your image.” 

“God, I wish they would get over that already. It’s literally not that big of a deal.” Your irritation grew. It had always been something you hated about the industry, that they cared so much about minor personal details. As long as you were making music, making fans happy, and making them money- why does it matter who you’re seen with. You hated how much everyone ‘cared’ about what you did. 

“I know y/n, it sucks. I’ll try to get them calmed down and prevent any unnecessary meetings. I want you to focus on whatever you need to. Don’t stress yourself out about this.” “Thank you Stacy. I really am sorry if I got you into trouble last night.” 

“It’s okay. I understand why you did it and I’m glad you did something for yourself for once.” 

The rest of the conversation is short and ends with Stacy complaining about Mark, the guy from the meeting, was blowing up her phone. 

You needed to talk to Hugh as soon as possible. There were so many things that needed to be discussed: the paparazzi pictures, the kiss, what we are, can he handle being your controversially old boyfriend- if that’s even what he wanted. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had already seen the headlines, if his team was just as mad as yours. 

You: hi hugh! could we meet up and talk sometime today? 

Hugh <3: Of course darling. Just tell me a time and place and I'll be there. 

You: 3pm at my house? 

Hugh <3: See you then. 😀

The emoji he attached made you laugh, Hugh texted like your parents and it should make you cringe but it does the exact opposite. You sent him your address, not expecting him to remember where you live, and started to prepare for his visit. You had a few hours before the agreed upon time, allowing you to clean up around your house and get presentable. Not wanting to go overboard, you decided on a pair of black flared leggings and a dark green crew neck that had ‘New York’ across the chest. You could feel your nerves working up as the time ticked away, each minute that went by increasing your heart rate. You were sitting on the couch, when there was a knock on your door. Taking a peek through the peephole, you could see Hugh standing there. You opened the door wide and gave him a tender smile. “Hi sweetheart.” He greets you with his own warm smile. “Hi Hugh. Come in.”  You open the door wider and he slips past you, waiting for you to close the door. “You can take your shoes off here if you want, but you don't have to.” He slides them off and you lead him into the living room. You take a seat on the couch, smacking the cushion next to you with your hand, urging him to take a seat as well- he does. You don’t speak right away, trying to find the right words to say, what to talk about first. “You okay y/n?” His expression is full of worry.

“Have you seen the pictures or anything about last night?” 

“No…?” You can tell he’s confused and you don’t say anything. Instead, you open your phone to the link Stacy sent and hand it to him. His eyes are moving back and forth slowly as he reads and scrolls through it. When he's done, he hands the phone back to you and sighs. “This is what you wanted to talk about?” He asks. “Yea…and other things.” 

He sighs. “Y/n, I already told you I don’t care what other people say. I don’t think what these people are saying about us should matter.” 

“I don’t want to drag you into this mess though, Hugh. It’s not fair to you, especially when everything they’re saying are lies.” 

“That’s just the way those people make a living. It won’t matter in a week, everyone will forget and move on, so don’t worry about me baby, worry about yourself. They said some nasty things in there, don’t let that get to your head kid?” His hand rests on your thigh and scrunch up your face at the nickname. 

“Hugh, for moral reasons, you can’t call me kid when you kissed me just last night. It's weird.” Your voice switching from the previous unsure and scared to serious. He lets out a laugh and a quick sorry. His hand still rests on your thigh and you reach out to place your hand on his, fingers slightly intertwining at the awkward angle. “Why did you kiss me last night?” Your doe like eyes look up at him. “I wanted to.” His answer is too brief for your liking and you can tell he’s teasing. “Why did you want to?” You ask further. “You looked really pretty in your sparkly little outfit last night sweetheart. You always look really pretty, truthfully. There’s just something about you that draws me to you.” He confesses. “Yea?”  “Yea…It’s a little scary if i’m being honest, how drawn to you I am.” “I’m scared too, Hugh.” You admit. “I’m terrified that whatever this is or whatever it leads to is going to get taken away from me.” Your willingness to be this open shocks you, but this needs to be done right. You would put your fears behind you for him. He squeezes your hand. “What do you mean?” 

“I just feel like every time I get something good that makes me happy, it’s gone faster than I can enjoy it. I mean..with uh…with Pedro, everything was going great, I was so happy…and he just.. left. All because things got hard, because he cared too much about everything else. I was getting attacked consistently, but he couldn’t handle it. My happiness got shattered. I don’t want that to happen again, especially not with someone like you. It sounds insane, we only just met, but Hugh, I really like you.” 

“I really like you too y/n.” He smiles and leans forward. His lips are getting closer to yours and as much as you want to kiss him, you can’t, not yet. “Wait..” You put the hand that isn’t holding his hand on his chest, stopping him from moving forward. “What’s wrong baby. You don't wanna kiss me?��� there's a cocky smirk on his face and it was the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. His voice was smooth and seductive. “As much as I want to shove my tongue down your throat right now, I really wanna do this right.” His eyes widen slightly at your words. “Right?” He questions. “I wanna get to know you more and take it slow. I like you too much for this to be rushed and ruined.” “Hmm. I can work with that, but just to be completely sure, you don’t want to kiss me?” The smirk is back. “God..you’re too hot for your own good.” You grab his neck and pull him into you. You kiss him with as much passion as possible, it would be the last one for a while, until time passes and these feelings are certain. His tongue slithers across your bottom lip and you pull back from the kiss. “You’re really testing your luck Jackman.” You laugh and he shrugs. 

“Is waiting okay with you? I don’t want you to feel pressured or tied to me in some way.” You’re playing with his long fingers. “That’s fine by me baby, I'll wait for you as long as I need to.” He leans back into the couch. 

“Friends for now?” You ask. 

“Friends for now.” He nods.

Thank you for reading <33

part five

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

if you want to be added/removed please leave a comment on this post! *let me know if I missed anyone or if the tag doesn't work*

[crimeronan]

i've seen a couple people in the notes of this very good post about fictional polyamory by @thebibliosphere say things along the lines of "oh, i've been doing it wrong :(" or "how do i know if i did this right??" or "i should probably give up and start over, i wrote this badly :(" and. no!!!!

(i AM seeing far MORE people say "oh, this clarified and helped me so much, i think i know how to fix issues i've been having with my own story" which. YES!!!!)

listen. if you're a monogamous person who's writing a polyamorous relationship, and you've been focusing mainly on The Triad and All Three Together All The Time as the endgame, that's literally fine. that's a perfectly acceptable and strong starting point for your plotting, imo. you do not need to give up on a story that you've started like this.

but the things discussed in the post Can and Should improve your execution!

you can keep the same plot beats and overall relationship arc 100%. polyamorous relationships are infinite in their formations, every one is unique. "basically a monogamous romance but with three people" Does exist, as a relationship type. you're not hashtag Misrepresenting (TM) poly people with it

BUT i do think it will help to read up on some poly people talking about how their relationships Differ from monogamous ones.

so i have outlined some basic important concepts about polyamory.

MORE IMPORTANTLY though, i've broken down some questions that you can answer throughout the writing process to strengthen your individual dyad relationships, your individual characterization, & your characters' individual feelings/experiences. this is a writing resource have fun

future kitkat butting in to say i spent over two hours writing this and it definitely needs a readmore. it is also NOT comprehensive. but everything should be pretty simple to follow! feel free to reblog if you find it helpful yourself or just want to reward me for how gotdan long this took KSLDKFJKDL.

i've grabbed quick links for a couple of the important concepts, some have SEO pitches in them but the info largely seems to be good. (if i missed anything Egregiously Gross on these sites i should be able to update the links with better ones later, since they're under the readmore.)

sidenote: this is NOT meant to be overwhelming, despite the length. if you can't read all of this, that's Okay. you do not need to give up on your writing.

here we go:

compersion!

compersion is a BIG thing in a lot of polyamorous relationships. it's joy derived from seeing two (or more) of your partners happy together, or joy derived from seeing your partner happy with someone else.

compersion is really important as a concept because it highlights that every individual relationship within a polycule is different -- and that that's a GOOD thing. it's sort of the inverse of jealousy.

by the "inverse of jealousy," i mean that instead of feeling left out and upset and possessive, you feel happy/joyous/content.

i can use personal experience as an example: it's a Relief for me when my partners receive joy/support/sex/romance/etc that i can't (or prefer not to) give them. and i love seeing my partners make each other laugh and be silly together.

it's 100% okay for a poly triad not to be together 100% of the time, it doesn't mean that the third member is being left out or not treated equally when two people do things alone together.

(i have individual dates with my partners all the time! PLUS larger 3-and-4-person date nights.)

if the third member DOES feel jealous or left out, then the polycule can have a conversation to figure out what needs/wants aren't being met, and solve that. this happens semi-regularly in my polycule, as it will happen in any relationship (including monogamous ones)! it's just part of being an adult, sometimes you have to talk about feelings.

metamours!

a metamour is someone who is dating your partner, but ISN'T dating you. this may not be relevant for people writing closed three-person romantic sexual triads, but it's a super helpful term to know.

the linked article also lists different types of metamour relationships with some fun phrasing i hadn't heard before. the tl;dr is: sometimes you'll be domestic cohabitation friends, sometimes you'll be buddies with your own friendship, sometimes you might not interact much outside of parties, every relationship is different.

there's no one-size-fits-all requirement for metamour relationships. sometimes polyamorous people will end up dating their metamour after a while (has happened to me), sometimes polyamorous people will break up with one partner for normal life reasons, but remain friendly metamours.

the goal of polyamory is NOT for EVERYONE to fall in love. it is 100% okay if this happens in your story, it happens in real life too! but it is also 100% okay for characters to be metamours without ever becoming "more than friends."

(sidenote: try to kill any internalized "more than" that you have when it comes to friendship. friends are just as important and special and vital as partners.)

of course there are a million ways for messiness to occur with metamours within a complex polycule, exactly like with close-knit platonic friend groups. however this post is not about that! there's enough "here's how polyamory can go wrong" stuff out there already, so i'm focusing on the positives here :)

open versus closed polyamorous relationships!

i'm struggling to find an online article that reflects my experience without directly contradicting at least SOME stuff. so i'll give a quick rundown

google has a bunch of conflicting definitions of open relationships and whether open relationships are different from polyamory. the general consensus seems to be that an open relationship prioritizes one partnership (often a marriage), but that each partner can have extraneous flings or long-term commitments (most often sexual in nature).

this is not typically how i use the term wrt polyamory. the poly concept is pretty simple. a closed polyamorous relationship is one with boundaries like a monogamous one. there are multiple partners in the polycule, but they are not interested in having anybody new join said polycule.

an open polyamorous relationship tends to be more flexible -- it just means that IF someone in the polycule develops mutual feelings for a new person, it's fine for them to become part of said polycule if they want to! the relationship/person is open to newcomers.

some groups will need to negotiate this all together, others will just go "haha, you kids have fun." just depends on the individuals!

with open AND closed polyamorous relationships, the most important thing is making sure that there's respectful communication and that everyone is on the same page. but there's no one-size-fits-all way to do that.

i wish i could give you guys a prescriptive "You Must Do It This Way" guide, but that's.... basically the opposite of what polyamory is about, HAHA.

feelings for multiple people!

i was gonna tack this on to the previous section but decided it warranted its own lil bit.

a defining feature (....i'm told?) of monogamous relationships is that a monogamous person only has feelings for One individual at a time. they only want a relationship with one individual at a time. or, if they DO have feelings for multiple people simultaneously, they're still only comfortable dating one person at a time & being exclusive with that one person.

this is perfectly fine!

the poly experience is generally different from this. but once again..... polyamorous people all have different individual perspectives on this.

for me, i have never been able to draw hard boxes around romantic vs sexual vs platonic relationships, & i love many people at once. my personal polycule lacks many strict definitions beyond "these are my chosen people, i want to forge a life with them indefinitely, whatever shape that life takes"

some poly people feel explicit romantic or sexual attraction to multiple people at once, some poly people feel almost no romantic or sexual attraction at all. i'd say that MOST poly people feel different things for different partners, which is not a bad thing!

some poly people are even monogamous-leaning -- they have just chosen one romantic partner who is themselves part of a larger polycule. (so this monogamous-leaning person has at least one metamour!)

or alternatively, they might have one romantic partner AND a qpr, or other ways of defining relationships. (this is a factor in my own polycule!)

i made this its own point because if you're writing a straightforward triad, this is unlikely to come up in the story itself -- but it's worth thinking about how your characters develop/handle feelings outside of their partnerships.

like, is this sort of a soulmateship, 'these are the only ones for me' type deal? in which they won't fall in love with anyone else, and can be fairly certain of that?

that's pretty close to typical monogamous standards but you Can make it work. just be thoughtful with it

alternatively, can you see any of these characters falling in love Again after the happily-ever-after? and how would the triad approach it, if so? what would they all need to talk about beforehand, and what feelings would everybody have about the situation?

it's worth considering these questions even if the hypothetical will never feature in your actual canon, because knowing the answers to these questions will help you understand all of the individuals & their relationship(s) MUCH better.

i've been typing this for nearly two hours and there's a lot more i COULD say because... there's just a lot to say. i'll close out with some quick questions that you can ask yourself when developing the dyad dynamics within your triad

first, take a page and create a separate section for each individual dyad. then answer these questions for every pair:

how does each pair act when alone?

how do they act differently alone compared to when they're with their third partner?

are there any elements of this dyad (romantic, sexual, financial, domestic, etc) that these two people DON'T have with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

are there any boundaries or hard limits within this dyad that aren't shared with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

partner 3 goes out of town alone for a few weeks. what are the remaining two doing in their absence?

(doesn't have to be anything special, it's just to get a sense of how the two interact on a day-by-day basis without the third there)

what is something that each partner in the dyad admires about the other -- that they DON'T necessarily see in the third partner?

what problem do These Two Specifically need to solve in the story before their relationship will work?

how is that problem DIFFERENT from the problems being solved within the other two dyads?

doing this for ALL THREE dyads is VITAL imo. that way, you develop complex and nuanced and different relationships that all have unique dynamics.

those questions should be enough to get you started, i hope

then After you've charted the differences in relationships, you can start to jot down similarities in the overarching triad. what does one person admire in Both of their partners? what are activities that all three like to do together? what are boundaries or discussions that all three share?

but the main goal is to figure out how to Differentiate each relationship!

a polycule is only as strong as the individual relationships within it. if two people are struggling with their own relationship, adding a third person won't fix that.

(UNLESS the third person is the catalyst for those two to, like, Actually Communicate And Work Their Shit Out. i just mean that the old adage of "maybe if we just add a third-" works about as well to fix a miserable non-communicative marriage as, uh, "maybe if we have a baby-")

AND FINALLY.

if you're not sure whether your poly romance reads organically to poly people, you can hire a sensitivity reader with poly experience. if you can't afford that, you can read up on polyamorous resources like a glossary of terms & articles actually written by poly people. (and stories written by poly people!)

you can also just.... ask poly people questions, if they're open to it. i like talking about polyamory and my own relationships so you're welcome to send asks if u want, i just can't guarantee i'll answer bc my energy levels fluctuate a lot and i don't always have time.

polyamorous people are in an uphill battle for positive representation right now & so the LAST thing i want to see is authors giving up on their stories bc they're worried about getting things Wrong. well-meaning and positive stories that treat this kind of love as normal, healthy, & aspirational are So So So Needed. even if you guys end up with some funky-feeling details.

seriously, if you're monogamous then you probably don't have a full idea of Just How Nasty a lot of people can get about polyamory. i wish it DIDN'T mean so much for you guys to want to write nice stories about us, but it does mean a lot. and it means a lot that you want to do it WELL.

in conclusion. this is not a prescriptive guide, it's just a way to raise questions. and also, you all are doing FINE.

[seonghwaddict]

blue bird — choi san, jung wooyoung

in which one of the most dangerous men in the city approaches you with an offer, but how would you have known it would turn into something more?

mafia boss!choi san x fem!reader x mafia boss!jung wooyoung. genre. fluff, smut, mafia au. warnings. explicit sexual content minors dni, unprotected sex, dom!san, dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, slight corruption, p in v, oral (f and m receiving), multiple orgasms, threesome, fingering, reverse cowgirl position, pussy drunk wooyoung??, subspace??, cum swallowing, san is a little mean, wooyoung likes to tease, lots of teasing, hair pulling, slight degradation, dirty talk like a lot of it, brief begging, praise, overuse of the word pretty, pet names (doll, princess, baby, pretty girl, good girl, baby doll, pretty little slut). i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know. wc. 6.9k.

lilo’s notes. hiii happy new year everyone!! this is dedicated to @garlichoisan, surprise! i was your secret santa :3 i’m sorry but i completely forgot to write angst and couldn’t find a way to squeeze it in, please forgive me 😭😭 i think i got a little carried away with the smut, it’s probably not my best since i’m not very experienced in writing it but i hope you like it and this as a whole!!

　　　　　　　　　masterlist

choi san wanted you in a rather unexpected way.

not in a friendly way or a sexual way, but actually in a professional way. ever since he’d heard of what you, the so called “blue bird,” were up to, he knew you’d be a valuable asset. shortly after he heard about you, he was quick to tell wooyoung about what he had learned from idling in a bar he’d never been to.

it was an early morning. so early that the sun hadn’t risen yet, but that didn’t bother san. he preferred quieter, intimate spaces rather than the bustling clubs of grey city. as he sipped on his whiskey, the two men beside him got to talking. neither of them were very memorable, if anything they looked too similar; not intimidating in any way. still, he made a mental note of the guns attached to their hips. it was nothing very interesting, small talk from what he could tell. well, at least until they mentioned an odd name.

“did you hear what she did?”

“who?” one of them, the one with comically thick glasses, said as he blew out some cigarette smoke.

“well… ya know…” his voice lowered to a whisper, though in his drunken state it was less of a discreet whisper and more of a loud hiss, “the blue bird.”

he gave a sound of recognition. “wonderful heist, wasn’t it?”

“indeed,” he laughed, a deep chortle, “she was here tellin’ ricky all about it yesterday. flawless, flew in and out like a ghost.” he sighed blissfully, as if he had been there to watch you work.

now this. this is what caught infamous mafia boss choi san’s attention.

“more like a bird!” the bespectacled man nudge his friend with his elbow, a high pitched giggle leaving him. “get it? because she’s called bl-”

the friend held his hand up with a deadpan expression. “yes, i get it.”

the two men talked about you some more (“pretty thing she is, isn’t she?” “mhm, heard she’s actually quite sweet too. odd thing to hear about an outlaw.”), but san tuned them out again. with an important upcoming mission, he needed someone capable of doing exactly what these two men had described. he needed someone like you. preferably, you.

going off of what he had heard, he frequented that bar, hoping you’d happen to be there at the same time. he sat at the same seat at the same counter every night and always ordered the same thing. he noticed that after the first two nights he was there, no one really sat next to him. presumably because they recognised him and opted to avoid him instead of doing anything.

not that he cared, this part of town was known to be filled with people of the rebellious type; people like him who despised the government and would stop at nothing to take it down. if anything, they most likely respected him and his business. but alas, that doesn’t matter much in this particular story, does it?

wooyoung even offered to take turns visiting the bar, curious to see this mysterious person as well. but two weeks passed and no sign of you. most of the people there were the same every time he went, he was sure he would’ve noticed a new face at some point.

fortunately, his efforts became successful.

as usual, no one sat directly beside him, leaving one or two barstools between him and whatever other patron sat at the counter. or so he thought. the usual bartender passed him and came to a stop. confused and thinking the bartender stopped for him despite already sipping on his drink, san tilted his head. but it soon became evident that he wasn’t there for him, but rather for the pretty woman he didn’t notice sitting beside him.

“the usual?” the bartender asked, a crooked smile spreading on his face as he looked at you, his hands busy drying a glass.

san heard a brief chuckle beside him, prompting him to take a proper look at you. the first thing he noticed were your lips. plump and red, smooth lipstick. then the slope of your neck and shoulders, exposed by the thin straps of your silky black dress, jacket hanging by your elbows. the soft yellow-tinted lighting bounced off your rich skin and perfect hair in an almost hypnotising way. there was something enchanting about your aura, your posture, you.

he forced himself to look away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“yes, thank you.” you replied, nodding at the bartender as he turned to prepare your drink.

“one hot chocolate for our blue bird coming right up!”

blue bird.

this time san couldn’t stop himself from looking. so it was you.

the men from the other day weren’t lying when they called you a pretty little thing. you wore a silky black dress and a black fur jacket to protect you from the cold wind of the night. as his eyes roamed over you they got caught on your plump thighs. briefly, he wondered if they felt as soft as they looked but soon enough something else caught his attention. as you shifted in your seat, he caught a glimpse of the inside of your jacket, a quick glint reflecting from inside told him you were indeed carrying a weapon. he made sure to keep that in the back of his mind.

a man such as himself, wide shouldered and intimidating, was hard to ignore. if you didn’t notice him staring from the corner of your eyes, you were sure the heat of his stare would’ve burned a hole through your skin. needless to say, he had caught your attention as well, except you seemed to be better at hiding it.

once the momentary shock subsided, he smiled. the fact that such a dangerous person would regularly order hot chocolates from a bar was amusing to him.

noticing the change in expression, you glance at him. what the hell? seeing a man grinning at you was unsettling. a man with such broad shoulders who could probably easily overpower you. his face looked familiar, you realised, but couldn’t quite attach a name to it quite yet.

unsure of what to do and what this man may want from you, you turned away and engaged in a conversation with the bartender as he prepared your drink, all the while ignoring the man at your side. as soon as you finished your drink, you placed some cash on the counter and got up, swiftly walking out of the bar.

while your goal was to get away, you didn’t take the fact that he might follow you into account.

“don’t go yet, little outlaw, i’d like to talk to you about something.”

his voice was rather calm and even, but still left minimal room for discussion. you rolled your eyes before turning around with a completely different expression—eyes wide and innocent, lashes fluttering, eyebrows raised.

“you must be mistaken, sir, i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

he chuckled and took some steps forward and that’s when you recognised him. shit. he slowly walked over to you, speaking to you in that same calm voice with a sprinkle of cockiness somewhere in it. “playing dumb? really? for someone as smart as yourself i’d expect you to know that the 1 billion won bounty on your head doesn’t hide you.”

you sighed at his words, taking steps back to maintain the distance. there was no use continuing the innocent act, snapping at him, “what do you want?”

“do you know who i am?”

“of course i do, the whole city does. do you think i live under a rock?” you scoffed a laugh.

he dismissed your sarcasm, being used to having to deal with such cheeky mouths. “i have an offer.” when you didn’t reply, he continued. “help me and my… business partner with a heist.”

that was not what you expected.

“hmm… no, thanks.” you smiled up at him but nearly faltered as your back hit the wall of an alley you had unknowingly backed yourself into. you cursed yourself silently as he stood right in front of you, so close you had to look up to maintain eye contact.

“i wasn’t asking, darling.” he looked down at you, expression nearly sneering as he held an air of superiority about him. “you either agree or you’ll wake up behind bars tomorrow morning.”

“you can’t arrest me or turn me in, they’ll forget all about me since you’re the more wanted one out of the two of us.” you spoke matter-of-factly, a cocky tilt to the corner of your lips.

“i never said i would be the one to turn you in, little outlaw.”

“you know,” you hummed and moved your arms. his first assumption was that you were reaching for the dagger he glimpsed inside your jacket earlier, instinctively catching your wrists in his grasp as your words died in your throat and your breath hitched. he shifted his grip to place both of your wrists in one hand, holding them up above your head as his free hand nudged your jacket open, revealing the dagger.

he clicked his tongue patronisingly and fished it out delicately. his eyes shifted to yours, eyebrows raising in a silent question as he tossed the weapon over his shoulder. the metal blade clinked and echoed in the barren alleyway. he kept your wrists in his hold but lowered your arms, holding them at the height of your hips.

he leaned forward, speaking into your ear lowly as you suppressed a shudder. “you may continue.”

you glared at him and had the sudden urge to punch the shit eating grin off his face. “what’s in it for me?”

“um…” his face went blank and he leaned back to look at you, clearly not a single thought processing behind those cat-like eyes. “is there anything you want in particular?”

“protection.” you said simply, tilting your head.

“oh,” he nodded slowly, his brows furrowing in confusion but he kept his eyes on you. “but can’t you find that in any store?”

he felt a hit against his shin as you kicked him lightly. “ew not that. i meant… well, doing what i do, there’s a lot of people after me. you have the means to have some of your guys make sure i don’t run into any trouble.”

san nodded understandingly, loosening his grip on your wrists but not letting go. not that you minded. “that’s perfectly possible, yes.”

you exhaled, relieved. warm air fanning against his neck as you did so. “okay, then, i’m in. so what is it you need me to do?”

this time he released your wrists completely and took a step back, reaching into an inner pocket of his tailored suit and pulled out a little card with one hand as the other brought your hand up.

he brushed his hand over your closed fist, opening your fingers up to reveal your palm, placing the card in your palm before gently nudging your fingers to close over it. in a swift move, he turned your hand around and bowed forward, pressing a slow and soft kiss to your knuckles—eyes locked on yours as you stared back at him in bewilderment.

he lifted his lips, smirking at you as he straightened up, hands moving to the bottom of his blazer and tugging, stretching the wrinkles away. “i expect to see you tomorrow at dusk, little blue bird.”

with a wink, he turned on his heels and walked away. you watched him, listening to the echoing footsteps as he left the alley and disappeared around a corner, leaving you slumped against the cold brick wall with burning cheeks.

you weren’t sure what you expected when you arrived at the address on the card choi san gave you. perhaps an underground bunker that looked nothing like the breathtaking estate you stood in front of.

the building was tucked within a small forest far from the outskirts of night city. the architecture seemed foreign and classical, a building you’d roam through whilst listening to tchaikovsky or chopin—not a building you’d expect to scheme against the government in. though, you supposed in some aspects it fit the aesthetic san had going on. sipping whiskey in a fully tailored suit, the smell of cigarette smoke and mint heavy in the air around him.

you walked up to the grand double doors, taking a moment to admire the intricate carvings before ringing the bell. less than a minute later, the right door swung open to reveal a stranger.

he wore wide dark jeans and a black and white plaid shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal his chiselled collarbones and practically half of his torso. his black hair was slicked back with a few strands framing his face with the dainty square glasses he wore, some hanging silver earrings on display. he was, completely objectively speaking, handsome.

his eyes roamed over you, taking in your appearance before smiling and crossing his arms, leaning his side against the door as he pushed his glasses up to rest on the top of his head. you noticed a mole on his face—a small dot just under his left eye. “so you’re the little outlaw san told me about, huh?”

“yes, and you are?” you knew who he was, of course, but pleasantries were pleasantries nonetheless.

“jung wooyoung, but you already knew that.”

you chuckled and put your arms up in surrender, “oh no, i’ve been caught.”

his laugh was rather high pitched as he ushered you in. “come in, it gets cold at night.”

he led you through the house, stopping by what he referred to as his office but really looked like a sitting room with soft lighting and a desk to grab some rolled up papers before continuing the walk. the interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; intricate paintings and marble floors. wooyoung smiled as he saw the awe-stricken look on your face.

he led you to another set of double doors, pushing both of them open and stepping through without looking back to make sure you were following. now this was an office.

your jaw nearly dropped as you walked into the room, spinning a full circle to gawk at the various bookshelves that lined the walls and high ceiling that looked like it came straight out of the sistine chapel. a large fireplace cast a warm, yet still dark, glow over the room, making it look that much more impressive. a graceful vintage couch with two matching armchair were placed in front of the fireplace, a glass coffee table nestled between the seats and the source of light and warmth.

the floor creaked with every step you took, being made of dark wooden planks instead of marble.

you flinched as you heard san’s familiar voice snapping you out of your stupor. “pick your jaw up, you might catch flies.”

at the sound of his voice, you whipped around and glared at him after quickly pulling yourself together. he was sat in a leather chair at his impressive desk, wooyoung sat (balanced) on the arm of the chair.

you walked over and stood across from them in front of the desk. “it’s a nice house, are you two the only ones that live here?”

wooyoung took the chance to answer. “sometimes. there’s six others that are part of our… syndicate, but they stay in other places, surrounding grey city.”

“enough of that.” san waved his hand dismissively and leaned forward. as he did so, your eyes were drawn to his chest. he wore a white button up, though it appeared to be a bit tight judging by the way the fabric around the buttons strained every time he moved. your lingering gaze didn’t go unnoticed, but neither of them brought it up. “woo, the plans, please.”

the plan was set to take place the months after you had met with them for the first time. this gave you three to prepare, to memorise the layout and every detail about the building you’ll be infiltrating. for this preparation, you frequented their estate often—nearly every day—and spent hours with them. two weeks in, they offered you one of their guest bedrooms to stay in.

at first wooyoung got on your nerves, but soon enough you grew accustomed to his antics—the clinginess, the teasing. eventually, you even found yourself liking it and seeking it out.

san was slightly more reserved at first, more serious. but soon he, too, let down his guard. encouraging words, affectionate touches.

the more time you spent with them, the more you found yourself relaxing, letting them handle you with care instead of pushing them away like you used to with so many people before them. and eventually you, dare you say, began liking them.

you couldn’t deny the way san’s sharp snd perceptive eyes made you want to squirm under his gaze as he watched you bend over his desk to point something out on the building’s floor plan. you couldn’t deny the way his gentle commands (“do this for me please.” “come here, princess.”) had butterflies roaring in your stomach.

and wooyoung. while san was indeed quite physically affectionate, it was nothing compared to wooyoung. lingering touches and smooth words. sometimes you’d be grabbing something in kitchen and he’d come by, pulling you aside by your hips to grab something. later that day you’d offered to cook something up for dinner, but he only tutted and lifted you by your waist to place you on the marble island counter (“i don’t trust you in my kitchen, baby. just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?”). jung wooyoung was a flirt and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

two days before the heist, you walked into san’s office after waking up and not being able to find woo. in the time you’d spent with them, you had learned that san acquired the bigger and fancier office by winning a game of rock paper scissors.

as you opened the door, the cat-eyed man looked up from whatever he was working on, smiling as he watched you yawn and stretch on your way over to him. he gave you a once over; you wore an oversized shirt, the collar shifted and hanging over one shoulder, the end of the shirt ending halfway down your thighs.

“sleep well?” he asked, putting his pen down as you stopped in front of the desk. he’d woken up not too long before you, still in his sleepwear, hair tussled but somehow still perfect.

you nodded, your voice soft in your sleepy state, “where’s woo?”

“he went out to get stuff for dinner,” he chuckled as he heard the slight concern in your voice. he pushed his chair back slightly and patted his lap. “come sit here while i work, princess.”

you grinned and walked around the desk, claiming his lap as your seat. you leaned back against him, back pressed to his front. he kissed your exposed shoulder chastely and got back to work. you tried to look down at his papers to see what he was doing, but the way his unoccupied arm wrapped around your waist and shifted you slightly (in a way that accidentally made his thigh rub against certain areas) had your mind going blank, unable to focus on anything other than his touch.

though you couldn’t see it, san also had a hard time focusing. every time you moved, your ass brushed over his pelvis. it was clear he didn’t think it through when he told you to sit on him since now he was having a hard time holding himself back, a bulge growing in his sweatpants.

you shifted again, trying to find a position where none of his body parts rubbed against your core, and he sucked a sharp breath in. his hands practically flew to your hips to hold you still.

“princess, i need you to sit still or i might go crazy, okay?” he spoke softly into your ear, hot breaths brushing against your skin and making you shiver, a fact he noticed and made him smirk. maybe he was already going crazy, but just a little more wouldn’t hurt, right?

he kept his lips by your ear for a moment before moving down slightly, placing them just below your earlobe. it was your turn for your breath to hitch, tilting your head to give him more space. he nearly groaned at the subtle act of submission, burying his face into your skin and kissing his way down to the crook of your neck.

time seemed to slow as his hands tightened on your hips, he scraped his teeth along your neck before biting down gently, not enough to hurt but enough to elicit a breathy whine. when the sound left your lips, he froze.

when you noticed he wasn’t doing anything, you whined again and rolled your hips over his pelvis, dropping your head back on his shoulder. the action surprised yourself too. you’d had sex, of course, but it was never a necessity for you. even when the opportunity presented itself, you wouldn’t chase after it. yet here you were, wordlessly begging him to continue. what had these men done to you?

“is this okay?” he whispered.

you nodded immediately, turning your head to look at him. his breath nearly caught in his throat as he saw the look in your eyes, illuminated by the soft glow of the fireplace—a silent plea for him to have his way with you, release the tension that’s built up over the previous three months. without waiting a second longer, he attached his lips to your neck again, a certain roughness to the way he caressed your skin with his lips and his tongue and his teeth.

you melted against him and let your eyes fall shut when you felt his hands slip shirt off, tossing it on his desk, and then rest against your bare waist, fingertips brushing over the skin making a shiver run down your spine. a voice that wasn’t his had your eyes flying open, your body freezing for a moment before you realised who it was.

“you two just couldn’t wait for me?” wooyoung pouted, leaning against the desk in front of the chair you and san occupied. san chuckled against your neck while you stared at wooyoung, dumbfounded, unexpected excitement stirring in your abdomen.

he looked from your face, to san’s smirk, and then down at the way your hips tried finding the right angle to grind on san’s lap. a dark chuckle left wooyoung’ slips and he leaned forward, hands coming to rest on your knees.

“need help with that, doll?” he tilted his head, a mocking pout gracing his lips as he cooed at you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek for a moment as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

your eyes practically twinkled as you looked up at him, pupils dilated as you nod helplessly. wooyoung smiled and patted your cheek affectionately, pecking your forehead again before sinking to his knees in between yours and san’s legs, kissing his way down your body. your eyes tracked him and his slow descent, breath held in anticipation.

“cute,” he giggled as he eyed your pink panties, slipping them off your legs and tossing them aside. he hooked your legs on either side of san’s, spreading them apart, looking up at you. “just relax, be a good girl and keep your legs like that for me, yeah?”

when you nodded, he kissed your inner thigh followed by a quiet groan as he noticed the arousal dripping from your cunt. “oh, doll, you’re so wet.”

“hm, is she?” san chimed in, one of of his hands leaving your waist to dip down and casually slide a finger through your folds; from bottom to top, applying more pressure the further he slid. you prepared yourself for his finger to get to your clit but, much to your dismay, he removed his hand just before he got there. you suppressed the urge to glare at him over your shoulder. simultaneously, wooyoung began leaving pecks all over your inner thighs.

san hummed and pressed another kiss just below your ear, whispering, his voice thick with lust, “all that and we barely even started. what a pathetic, needy mess, huh?”

the way he said it made it clear he expected an answer from you, but with how wooyoung ran a single finger through your folds, you couldn’t do much but shudder and nod. san clicked his tongue and snaked his hands further up from your waist just under your breasts, fingers brushing circles over your nipples. he waited patiently to give you more time to answer.

wooyoung’s tongue slipped out to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit and both your brain practically short-circuited. the combination of the feeling of his tongue and his wide, glossy eyes peering up at you from between your legs sending your mind reeling. he groaned as he tasted you, swearing in his head that he’d probably finish in his pants within five minutes. a sudden pinch of your nipples had you snapping out of your trance.

“say it, princess.”

“ah- i’m a mess.”

“and why are you a mess?”

you opened your mouth to answer but your own moan cut you off as wooyoung began circling your clit with his tongue. san’s lips backed away from your ear and he looked down at wooyoung, signalling for him to stop by holding up his flat palm. your chest heaved with heavy breaths as wooyoung reluctantly removed his tongue and leaned back just an inch, giving you a moment to recover.

“he won’t continue until you tell me why you’re a mess, baby.”

“because of you,” you whined, trying to press your hips closer to wooyoung’s face but to no avail as san moved his hands back down to hold you firmly by those hips he loved so much.

“good girl, that’s right,” he cooed into your ear, giving you a tender kiss. “you’re our pathetic needy mess, aren’t you?”

“your mess. i’m your mess.”

at the confirmation, san looked down at wooyoung and nodded. not even a second later wooyoung’s mouth was back on you. one of san’s hands stayed to control your hips and the other went back to massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples.

wooyoung’s pace was relentless. he ate you out like a man starved, licking up all the juices that seeped from you while he made sure to nudge his nose against your clit repeatedly. when his mouth wasn’t at your entrance, he had his lips wrapped around your clit, alternating between rhythmic sucks and prods of his tongue, one of his fingers teasingly circling your hole.

he swore he could’ve gotten drunk off your taste, finding the way you writhed in san’s lap so cute. wooyoung momentarily removed his mouth from you once again, watching your face as he tentatively pushed his finger past your entrance. he spoke, voice somewhere between a hoarse groan and a sigh.

“fuck…”

you threw your head back on san’s shoulder, suddenly aware of the hard erection pressed against your ass. you tried to rock your hips just a bit, wanting to help him, but his fingers tightened on your hips.

“keep being such a good girl and i’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name, but i need you to be patient. okay, princess?”

your breath hitches and you nodded at his promise, your attention being drawn back to the man between your legs as he added another finger. your breathing grew erratic.

“mmm, so tight.” he groaned, eyes fixated on the way his fingers disappeared into your before slipping out again, more and more of your slick seeping out with each thrust of his digits. wet sounds reverberated through the room as you let out a silent curse.

you thought your noises were kept to a minimum, too embarrassed to really let loose, but as soon as he curled his fingers in you—easily finding that spongey sweet spot—a proper moan ripped itself out of you. and then his tongue was back on your clit, not as firmly as you would’ve liked but enough to draw out more moans and whimpers.

at first, he took his time, fingers thrusting in and out of you at a frustrating pace, tongue only lightly brushing over your swollen pearl. but soon enough, he sped up gradually until he reached a speed that had you crying out and arching your back with every inch that he moved. all the while san muttered encouragement into your ear.

“mhm, you’re taking his fingers so well, princess.”

“can’t wait to have my cock in your tight little pussy. don’t worry, we’ll make it fit.”

“look at you, being fucked dumb just from his fingers. you can barely even keep your eyes open, huh?”

you thought you were controlling yourself well but the moment wooyoung added a third finger, the stretch burning just slightly though your wetness kept things moving smoothly, the moment san spoke all those filthy words in your ear, you felt yourself crashing over the edge. it all felt so good you didn’t even realise you were climaxing until you felt yourself shaking and stars swarming your vision.

a high pitched cry ripped through your lips, moaning wooyoung’s name as he takes his fingers out so he can slurp up your release, groaning against you. you tasted so good and if he could, he would have bottled up all the sounds you made to listen to them before bed every night. san planted tender kisses to your jaw and shoulder as wooyoung eventually removed himself.

he looked almost as fucked out as you, drunk of the juices of your pussy as he slowly got up. he took your face in his clean hand and eagerly pressed his lips against yours, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue. the two of you made out slowly, sloppily, and he slowly trailed his hands down. tracing the curve of your waist before settling his hands on your hips, guiding them to grind over san’s length.

you followed his lead, arching your back to position your pussy right over his erection. that seemed to have made san lose all his composure, rasping out harshly, “woo, please lift her up for a moment.”

moments later, you were back in his lap, this time his long cock buried deep in your cunt. his hands guided your movements, his thrusts matching the pace of the roll of your hips. though he wasn’t able to see your face, fucking you in a reverse cowgirl position, he could image how fucked out you looked. cheeks painted red, glazed over eyes, swollen lips, messed up hair.

wooyoung separated his lips from you, chuckling against your mouth. you struggled to kiss him, san feeling so good in you that you had a hard time thinking straight. “does he feel good, babydoll?”

you nodded and leaned forward just slightly to attach you lips to his pretty neck, mindlessly kissing and licking your way down to his collarbones. wooyoung tilted his head back, another dark chuckle. he thought you were so cute—making sure to give him attention even though you were bouncing in another man’s dick. said man groaned and slumped back in the seat at the change of angle as you leaned forward, not pausing his movements once. ever since he first bottomed out in you he had trouble putting together sentences.

your fingers fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. most of them were undone anyway, he liked it like that when he wore button-ups, but you wanted it completely off. he noticed your trembling hands struggling and took over for you, ignoring the buttons and just pulling off the shirt. your eyes roamed over him, jaw slack.

“you’re so pretty, woo.” you whispered after burying your face in his neck again, any filter you had on your words completely gone.

“i think you’re pretty too, doll,” he chuckled into your ear. “so pretty getting off on me and sannie at once.”

you leaned back and looked him over, darting between his eyes and the erection straining against the trousers with pleading, half closed eyes. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you wanted, making him coo as he understood you.

“oh, you want my cock? you wanna suck it? just one shoved inside you doesn’t satisfy you enough, huh, you pretty little slut?”

your head empty, unable to focus on anything other than the two men you were trapped between, you nodded. san groaned as he felt your walls clench around him.

“fuck- she likes that.”

“is that so?” wooyoung straightened up and grinned down at you, holding your jaw in his hand. “well, then, go ahead, doll, do as you please.”

at he sound of his permission, your hands found their way to his trousers, undoing the fly and letting them fall to the ground. you could already see the shape of it through his boxers, but didn’t pause to inspect it, hooking your fingers on his waistband and pulling it down to release him.

while his length was impressive, it didn’t look quite as long as san’s but rather thicker. compared to every dick you’ve seen, you decided jung wooyoung had a pretty one. the blushing tip leaked precum that you smeared around to stroke him slowly.

you looked up at him every time you tried something new with your hands, looking for his reaction—running your thumb over his tip, squeezing lightly as your hand moved down. no mater what you did, it elicited a deep moan from him. you looked entranced as you watched the way his eyelids fluttered in pleasure. you leaned forward (both you and san moaning and shuddering at the change in angle), pressing a kiss to his tip.

this new angle had san pounding against your sweet spot repeatedly without fail, making you suddenly feel like jello. still, you tried your best to focus on the task literally at hand.

wooyoung noticed your lack of concentration, threading his fingers in your hair and gently pulling to make you look up. he pouted at you mockingly. “can’t think straight enough with sannie’s cock stuffed in you? it’s ok, doll, you look so pretty and fucked out i could cum just from looking at you.”

you shook your head and pushed forward, wrapping your lips around his tip and sinking your mouth down on his length to the best of your abilities.

wooyoung groaned, “that’s it, doll, there you go. you can take just a little more, can’t you, pretty girl?”

eager to please him, you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. you felt him hit the back of your throat and pulled back, coughing around his length. he slipped his hand out of your hair and stroke your cheek, prompting you to glance up at him.

“you’re doing well, doll, just remember to breathe through your nose. i know you can take me just a bit deeper.”

you nodded at his words, swallowing a little more, and wrapped a hand around the rest that you couldn’t fit, stroking him slowly as you led your mouth get used to the feeling. truth be told, you hadn’t given anyone head before, completely relying on your intuition now.

“yeah, there you go, my pretty little doll. i knew you could do it.”

as you mouth worked on wooyoung, you felt that familiar knot tightening in your abdomen. san must’ve been close too, letting out a hearty groan as he gripped your hips tighter and thrusted up into you faster. every time he pulled you down and snapped his hip up to meet you, the lewd sound of his skin slapping against your and his balls hitting your clit had you whining against wooyoung’s cock.

he sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering before cooing down at you. “what was that, doll? i couldn’t quite hear you.”

you continued with the sucking and stroking until you thought it was impossible, repeatedly shaking too much to keep a steady pace. but you could tell wooyoung was close judging by his sounds and pulsating, and still wanting to please him, you kept your lips around his head as you hand stroked him as fast as you could.

moments later, his body tensed and he came into your mouth. the thick, slightly salty substance ran down your throat as you swallowed it all down. when you were sure he was done, you pulled yourself off him. wooyoung looked ready to pass out, leaning against the desk and staring up at the ceiling as he panted, catching his breath. silent curses left his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut.

now with wooyoung taken care of, you leaned back against san, revelling in the feeling of him pounding into you as you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. you heard him gasp by your ear and you clenched down on him.

“f-fuck… i’m gonna cum.”

oh how san loves fucking you. loves the way your walls flutter around his cock. loves all the sounds you make that he was sure you weren’t even aware of. how you writhe and jerk and shudder and whine and moan and he could go on for days.

“please, sannie,” you whined softly, “please, fill me up, please please please.”

that was the last straw. the desperation in your voice has his stomach flipping and he came just as you finished your begging. a shiver ran down your spine as your body went limp. he kept himself buried in you as one of his hands slide down to rub quick and tight circles on your clit, quickly bringing you to an orgasm that had your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

once all three of you calmed down and got cleaned up, you found yourself relaxing on san’s lap again. this time, you were on one of the couches in the living room as wooyoung sat beside you. while you were in the shower, he cooked up some instant noodles, feeding them to you now.

a hand stroked the outside of your thigh comfortingly as you slurped down the last of the noodles, you recognised it as san’s hand. your legs still felt like jello and you cuddled into him as wooyoung got up to put the bowl away. you felt san press a kiss to the top of your head, practically cradling you.

“you did well, my little blue bird,” he whispered against the crown of your head and pulled you closer, “i could stay like this all day.”

“too bad because it’s my turn now.” wooyoung buckled as he returned, collapsing on the couch and snatching you of san’s grasp without warning. he stuck his tongue out at san as he held the back of you head and pressed your face into the crook of his neck, making you giggle.

san whined and reached his hands out to grab you again only to be swatted away by woo. “hey! no fair.”

“yes, it is fair,” wooyoung giggled, “you’ve had her on your lap long enough.” his best friend glared at him and muttered something under his breath as he looked away with his arms crossed.

“oh, you big baby,” you laughed as you turned your head to look at him. extending you hand to pat his knee.

san’s eyes flashed as an idea lit up in his head. he grinned as he wrapped his arms around both you and wooyoung. you weren’t sure how it happened but next thing you knew, all three of you were laying down on the couch, the two men sandwiching you lovingly.

you felt yourself blush and your brain going blank. wooyoung laughed at the expression on your face, leaning forward to kiss you until san reached over and flicked his forehead. they proceeded to argue about who should be able to kiss you more as you sighed contentedly. you realised there was no other place in earth you’d prefer to be in more than right here, nestled between the two men who you knew would take good care of you.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @hee0soo

[dadbodbuck]

i had a bad day and then @tommystummy started talking about bucktommy arguments and this scenario came up and i latched onto it like a moray eel. please enjoy some raw, unedited tommy kinard angst

Tommy doesn't like talking about it. It being the roughly five years he worked under Captain Gerrard, alongside Howie and Hen, when he was deeply closeted and a major asshole. He can make his excuses, he can try to convey the feeling of looking into someone's eyes and only seeing your father's. He can admit to the humiliating nightmares he used to have of his father storming into the fire station and screaming at him. Neither of those are reason enough to be callous towards people who were being tortured in their own workplace.

Howie and Hen were much quicker to forgive him than Tommy was. In fact, it seemed like it only took one mumbled apology for them to shrug it all off. Water under the bridge, they had said. Just don't do it again.

And God, Tommy never did. After that, after finally taking his sexuality out of the box deep in the animal part of his brain, he told himself he would be different. He expected it to be hard, and on some level it was, but—

Tommy kissed a man for the first time (since high school) forty-eight hours after he was reassigned to the 217, quick and dirty in a bar in West Hollywood. Something in Tommy’s chest clicked into place when he heard the soft, deep moan of a nameless man wearing body glitter. He couldn’t go back even if he wanted to.

Before, he’d been afraid of this exact thing. He’d kept his hands to himself because he knew that his closet wasn’t resealable. It was one-and-done. Gerrard’s boys would have eaten him alive. But Howie and Hen wouldn’t. They didn’t.

It still took him a long time for him to tell them. They didn’t talk often, but they did keep in touch. Tommy owed them so many favors he’d probably be repaying them for the rest of his life, but they seemed more interested in just being his friend. A distant one, but a friend nonetheless.

Distance was fine. Distance was easy. Distance allowed for Tommy to keep his comfortable walls in place, even if he redecorated them a little.

It took him three months to realize how debilitating loneliness was. He was out, now, but without the close, albeit sterile and toxic, friendship of the boy’s club at the 118. Tommy longed for connection. He thrived on it. Something deep, and routine, and constant.

But nobody was volunteering. So Tommy resigned himself to his old hobbies, cars and Muay Thai and basketball, and introduced karaoke trivia to the routine, because he’d always loved singing but never had the guts to do it while he was closeted. It was nice. If anyone noticed Tommy’s near-compulsive schedule of activities, they never mentioned it. The years passed. Howie and Hen grew even more distant. Tommy liked their Facebook posts. He did their favors. He was still lonely, but he successfully put the version of himself he had been on a shelf in the deepest recesses of his brain, never to see the light of day again.

He was a good person now. He was good. He was good despite the skeletons rattling in the closet where his love used to be.

Then, Evan.

No other preamble necessary. Then, Evan. With his broad chest and blue eyes and insane, insane ideas.

Really, was Tommy not supposed to fall in love with him?

Things are great for a while. Idyllic. Peaceful, and exciting, and sweet, and so goddamn sexy, and safe. Tommy feels safe in Evan’s arms.

The problem, of course, is that Evan has this idea that he has to know every part of Tommy. All of him.

“I want to love all of you,” Evan murmurs, as a creeping sense of dread settles in Tommy’s chest, “Even the parts you don’t like.”

Tommy chews on his words, but Evan must sense something is wrong, because he props himself up on an elbow and leans over Tommy, brow scrunched in concern.

“There are parts of me that aren’t worth loving.” Tommy settles on, eventually.

He watches Evan’s heart break in real time, and it does nothing to soothe the growing irritation in his chest.

“I don’t believe that,” Evan frowns, “I think even when you were making mistakes, you were worth loving.”

Tommy huffs a dry, sarcastic laugh. “I beg to differ.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Can’t. Evan doesn’t like this. “Tom, that’s—that’s not how this works. You don’t get to pick and choose which parts of you I’m allowed to love. I don’t care what it is. I love you.”

Tommy isn’t going to win this argument, so he doesn’t even try. Instead, he forces himself to relax, and sighs. “Okay. Sorry, honey.”

He can tell Evan isn’t buying it, by the disbelieving set to his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lays back down and presses a gentle kiss to Tommy’s shoulder. It feels a lot like another declaration.

“I love you too,” Tommy says, bringing one of Evan’s hands up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. Evan revels in physical touch—it’s one of his favorite love languages, although he enjoys pretty much all of them. Mostly, Tommy thinks Evan was just love-starved for a long time.

Tommy is positive beyond doubt that Evan was never like him. It takes little talking to Howie and Maddie to confirm that he’s always presented his heart on a platter, warm and bleeding for whoever wants to carry it. There’s no universe where a callous man like Gerrard would have turned Evan into what Tommy was. Evan has never been a coward.

Tommy hopes that’ll be the end of the argument, but the next day, Evan sits down on the couch and says, “I know talking about your past is painful for you, and I don’t want to force you to tell me anything.”

Tommy senses a conjunction and chooses to remain silent.

“But,” there it is, “I don’t take back what I said.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you again,” Tommy grunts, knowing he’s closing himself off.

“Then let me say it,” Evan presses, “There is nothing in your past that would change how I feel about you.”

“You don’t know that,” Tommy says, through gritted teeth, “You don’t know what I was like to Howie and Hen when they first joined the 118. I said things I shouldn’t have. I let Gerrard and his cronies get away with even worse. I let them get hurt, and I did nothing, because I was a coward.”

Evan looks at him with big, sad eyes. “You were scared.”

“I should have done the right thing anyway,” Tommy argues, “You think Howie and Hen weren’t scared? You think they weren’t terrified? Hen got up in front of everyone and gave us this big speech about how proud she was to be gay, to be black, to be herself. And all I did was stand there with this pit in my stomach. Like if anyone looked over at me they would just know, and then I’d be a pariah. Like her.”

“Tommy,” Evan says, dismayed, “She’s forgiven you so many times over for that. Beating yourself up about it does nothing.”

“It holds me accountable,” Tommy says, “It keeps me from being that person again. I hate the person I was back then. You would have hated him, too.”

“Maybe,” Evan shrugs, like it’s just that easy, “But I try not to hate people. I certainly don’t hate my loved ones for making mistakes. And that’s what you did. Make a mistake. Now, looking back on it, I can see that version of you. That Tommy, who was afraid and in pain. I still love him.”

“Stop!” Tommy snaps, but makes no move to get away from Evan. Evan’s hand stutters, but makes its way to Tommy’s shoulder, thumb rubbing over the joint.

“I love every version of all of my loved ones,” Evan says softly, “I love the version of Bobby who almost drank himself to death. I love the version of Eddie that fought people in the street. I love the version of Chim that punched me. I love the version of Maddie that ran away from me—several times, I might add. I love the version of Hen that almost ended her own marriage when she betrayed Karen’s trust.”

There’s about thirty different stories Tommy wants to explore in there, but Evan doesn’t let him get a word in edgewise. “And I love the version of you that stood by and watched because he was too scared to intervene.”

Evan leans in to plant a tender kiss to Tommy’s cheek. “I love him, and I love the Tommy who was in Iraq, and I love the Tommy who was almost a high school dropout, and I love the Tommy who loved to go hiking after middle school, and I love the Tommy who was late learning how to walk but early learning how to read. It’s not hard. He’s you.”

“I don’t want him to be me,” Tommy confesses, throat tight.

“But he is,” Evan murmurs, soft and soothing in Tommy’s ear, “He’s right here. And he’s doing right by people now. He learned how to be brave. He made amends. Hen and Chim didn’t forgive you because you killed that old version of yourself, they forgave you because you made an effort.”

It’s the first time Tommy’s ever heard it phrased like this, and something about the way Evan says it makes his eyes sting. Evan pulls him into a hug, tucks his face into the crook of his neck, and lets Tommy cry. Rubs his back through it. If Tommy pretends, he could be rubbing the uniform-clad thirty-five year-old firefighter, or the fatigued back of an eighteen-year-old soldier, or the thrifted cotton tee of a middle schooler, or the just-too-tight romper of a toddler. All the Tommies that never got this, all the Tommies that desperately wanted it.

For the first time since his mother died, Tommy is held while he cries, and after nearly thirty years, something in his chest stops aching.

[alchemistc]

"Any plans for your days off, Buck?"

Buck knows his grin is a little feral, but he's kind of hoping that'll throw them off the trail. It's barely been a year, and in that time they've had three natural disasters, one copter crash, a boss intent on making Buck's life a living hell, and two almost break-ups.

It's too soon, to know for sure, except Athena and Bobby had known, and Hen and Karen had known even if they were too scared to admit it at first, and Chim and Maddie may have taken a little longer to get there but they'd known.

And Buck knows. He knows he's never felt like this about anyone before. Knows no one has ever had the ability to infuriate him and calm his fears quite like Tommy Kinard can. Knows they could have done this like they joked about six months ago and they wouldn't have regretted it.

Hen is making a face like she's trying to decide if she wants to know whatever head-tilt-cheek-bite sexual innuendo Buck's got in the barrel, because she only appreciates that about half of the time and Buck's praying she decides on no because he's a terrible fucking liar and he doesn't like keeping things from people. But it's sort of a secret, for the next 48 hours, and Buck also wants to bask in it, wants to enjoy keeping it to himself for just a little while.

"Our Buckaroo is all grown up and refusing to over share about his sex life, praise be," Chim chips in, and Buck tucks his chin to his chest and hopes his pink cheeks read as embarrassed.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and around him lockers slam and voices drift over him. He's only got eyes for the text that just came through.

Bird's ready, suits are pressed, room is paid up. You wanna go to Adele, after? I think I know one of her people.

You know everyone, stop bragging, I'm already impressed

I'm always gonna try to impress you. You still at the station?

Yeah but not for long. I'll see you in like forty

"--right Buck?"

Buck blinks, hums, stares across at Chim.

"Please tell me you're not sexting at work right now."

"Technically, we are off the clock."

"I'll remind Clipboard Buck of that next time he shows up."

He's zipping up his bag when his phone buzzes again.

See you soon, baby.

He's pretty sure he's gonna get away with it - Hen and Chim are arguing about some reality show as they all trudge toward the open bay doors, and though he can hear their voices further back, Eddie and Bobby still seem to be deep in conversation.

Ravi comes out of left field, because of course he does, just finished inventory still clutched in his hand as he rounds the engine closest to Buck. "Hey, Buck, you and Tommy wanna catch that movie tomorrow night? I picked up a shift but I've got like twelve off in between."

Buck winces. Damn, so close. "Sorry, bud, we actually won't be in town."

Which he's realizing now is pretty uncharacteristic of the both of them, and Hen and Chim have clocked it, so he's gonna have to make a run for it, but he catches sight of raised brows and questioning expressions and he can't give them nothing.

"Tommy's taking me to Vegas, we might see Adele, okay bye!"

They absolutely let him make a break for it, let him scramble into the Jeep, let him send them all a quick wave before he peels out of his parking spot, and Buck spends the drive to Harbor viscously ignoring the steady buzzing from his phone.

---

Tommy snags the backpack from his shoulder before he's fully out the door, and tugs a belt loop to pull him close. Buck is pretty sure he'll never get over how much he likes being manhandled, just a bit.

"You wanna tell me why Chim and Hen both wished us a good flight?"

"Ravi ambushed me on my way out the door. Technically, they don't know anything about anything, except maybe Adele."

Tommy's fond smile makes Buck feel all warm and tingly inside, and he basks in the glow as Tommy nudges a knee between the open bow of Buck's legs.

Tommy's expression morphs, a bit, lips dropping as he tilts his head. "You having second thoughts? We don't have to-."

"No. No second thoughts."

"Evan, I know how close you are to your family. If you want to wait, make this something you can share with them, we can hold off."

He's so goddamn charmed by this man - by how he cares, by how well he knows Buck, by a million and one tiny things that Buck gleefully hoards his knowledge of like a dragon over his caverns of treasure.

"I kinda don't want to share you, for this." It's the first time since Tommy's brought it back up that Buck's been able to express exactly why the prospect makes him so giddy, but there it is. Possessive jealous Buck rears his ugly head again, only Tommy has always been a little charmed by that. At least when Buck expressed it in a healthy way.

"The moment they know, it's gonna be a spectacle," Tommy agrees, fingers curling over Buck's side.

"Exactly. So. Take me to Vegas and wife me up before one of them shows up trying to tag along."

He expects the dramatic eye roll, and Tommy's fingers digging into his sides. He doesn't expect the ear-ringing whistle echoing through the bay door to their left, or the smirk on Lucy Donato's face when she lets her looped thumb and pointer finger drop from her lips.

"We should definitely go before any of them remembers to hit her up for more details."

"Why would she -."

"Yeah she caught a look at the manifest and snooped until she found the rings."

"So you're actually worse at keeping a secret than I am."

"They're all gonna know before we land back home."

"Hen's gonna break like thirty bylaws trying to decorate a county owned chopper."

"Evan, seriously, we can still -."

Buck only knows one sure-fire way of stopping Tommy from spiraling too much - he uses the little bit of leverage he has plastered to the open door of his Jeep to catch Tommy's lips, and the resulting pleased hum shivers down his spine. Evan takes a moment to be pleased that Tommy hadn't shaved this morning like he'd threatened, and then he's tilting his head for a better angle and losing himself in it long enough that a few more wolf-whistles make their way across the tarmac -- Wendell and York, most likely, but when Buck finally breaks the kiss to dart a look over Tommy's shoulder, everyone has made themselves scarce.

"You gonna marry me or not, Kinard?"

It's a rare thing, but sometimes, when Buck makes him a little extra wild, Tommy does this growling thing that Buck always feels down to his toes. Tommy kisses him breathless again when Buck responds to this growl with a satisfied smirk.

---

"How much you wanna bet Hen convinces you to do a vow renewal within six months."

Buck's busy nipping at a spot of flesh just above Tommy's transverse abdominis, so it takes a second for his brain to catch up with the words.

"It's gonna be Maddie, and she's gonna rope you into it before you realize what's happening."

Tommy hums, pleased, not denying it, and runs a hand through Buck's hair, palm curling over his crown. It takes Buck a moment to figure out why it doesn't feel quite as familiar as it always does, and then he's reaching for it with a hand of his own, the tips of two fingers sliding along the smooth metal surface of Tommy's ring.

The smile he shoots up from the general area of Tommy's groin is all puppy-dog grin, and he basks in the soft, warm grin Tommy sends back. Buck tracks the crinkle of Tommy's eyes like a lifeline.

"I'm gonna lord it over everyone's head that we didn't get married because of, during, or after a health scare or a natural disaster."

"You asked me two days after we made up because of a flash flood we both thought we were gonna lose each other to, but okay."

Tommy's smile is soft. The fingers that slide around his scalp to brush reverently over his birthmark are even softer. "That time doesn't count, because we didn't follow through. You thought I was joking."

He had, honestly, at first, because they'd technically still been broken up at the time and the adrenaline and the terror at nearly losing one another had still been close. It'd taken him three days and Tommy angrily re-ringing his house key back onto Buck's keychain to realize Tommy maybe hadn't actually been joking about hopping in the chopper the next time they both had 24 off.

He's glad they'd taken the extra time, though. Glad they'd had time to drive halfway across the state in search of a ring shop they could be sure they wouldn't run into anyone at, glad they'd had the time to get new suits tailored, glad he'd had time to fuss over vows he'd still cried about while he was saying them, glad they'd done it without an Elvis impersonator standing just off to the side.

"You're stuck with me now," Buck tells him, and Buck knows Tommy's delighted bark of laughter will keep him warm for years.

[cinhomi]

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: boyfriend's best friend Hwang Hyunjin x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you should've left your boyfriend sooner considering the man of your dreams, his best friend, has always been there for you... but the faithful event you were hoping for finally occurs and you find yourself at his house, in his arms, in his bed.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst?, smut, fluff, aquaintances to lovers

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cheating (but not really, you'll see), reader is in a toxic relationship, explicit descriptions of sexual acts, unprotected sex (it's sexy but use protection babes), fingering, pretty vanilla.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4K

I have a thing for sex while it rains, it seems... and like this I post something after months. I'll work this storyline in the future too for Hyunjin, but for now, enjoy!

It's strange how sometimes we believe to be in the right place to later find out we were living in a lie, a product of our fervid imagination, just to not accept reality and the fact that life, or even our past self, played a good and structured not-so-funny prank on us.

These lies we tell ourselves most of the time are a response to our awful experiences, but they can become harmful in numerous types of ways, and we should learn that instead of letting us be tempted by sweet beliefs. When we find ourselves facing reality it's hard to accept it, it's ugly, but ugly things are part of life and we should try and accept them nonetheless, they may reveal themselves as lessons or the best things that happened to us, with various meanings to that.

What pisses people off the most is the "waste of time". And that's how you feel too, like the rest of humankind, angry because you wasted time. You would very gladly prefer to be in the denial stage of the whole thing but it's so evident that you can't even pretend to be doubtful, to question what you saw, to give him a chance to explain himself.

The car is still cold even if you already reached the destination that popped in your mind right after what happened, salty tears adorning your eyes as they cross your freezing cheeks, collecting under your chin, falling on your scarf. The same damn scarf he gifted you after your first two weeks of dating, the one you didn't even like at all, the color you hated, a dull pattern over it… the urge to pull down the car window and throw it outside in the middle of the parking lot soon becomes reality. Wind starts to rise a bit, and you see it dance on the wet concrete for a while before a car passes over it and plasters it on the ground.

Ironic, right? You feel a bit bad after the impulsive gesture, but he didn't hesitate to make you feel the same, so, "screw it".

You shouldn't even be here. You should go to your own best friend, sitting on her way too low couch with its broken springs and cry your eyes out as she yells at you her usual "I told you so!" and "You're an idiot, I knew it from the start!" even if what you really need is comfort, and not to be scolded like a twelve years old while she offers you chocolates and tissues like in some chiché romcom.

That's why Hyunjin's place is just few meters and five floors away from you now. You're actually hesitant to get out the car but when you see your boyfriend's text appear on your screen, asking where are you, it's suddenly not so difficult to take your things and rush to take the elevator, and when you send Hyunjin a message telling him you're in front of his apartment he's quick to open the door. He doesn't say a thing, he doesn't even dare to, he already knows.

He delicately takes your hand in his and guides you inside with a saddened smile, his eyes soft as they watch you attentively trying to search for your tears. God, he wants to kiss them all away, he never wants to see you like this ever again, but he thinks it's probably not the last time… is it? Either way, he'll do anything he can to make the redness of your eyes disappear.

"Go sit on the couch petal, relax for me, hm?" he says in a hushed tone to not provoke your impending outburst. When you're finally hugged by his cushions you feel his presence behind you, his hands going on your shoulders to free you from your heavy coat and bag that he places on his forearm. When he reaches for your scarf his fingers are suddenly met with the cold skin of your neck and a startled "oh!" escapes from him because of the unexpected touch, making you giggle. If only you knew how his heart starts beating faster whenever he hears you like this…

"Where is your scarf? You always wear it, were you in such a rush to leave it at your place?" he's now lowered near your face, breath tickling your cheek as he adjusts your jumper on your shoulders ー the stained one you only wear at home, you didn't even change, how embarrassing. He touches you like frail porcelain and little bumps start to rise on your skin where traces of his touch linger, you wish his fingerprints could bruise your skin.

"I threw it in the parking lot…" you explain, looking at him trying to not make your lips touch while doing so.

A laugh that comes from his chest slowly builds up as he lifts himself and reluctantly distances from your face to go place your belongings on the hanger at the entrance. If only he knew how your heart twists in excitement whenever you hear him like this…

Hyunjin doesn't come back to you immediately. He always makes sure you have enough time to think by yourself first, to gather your words, to decide if you want to cry or yell, and then he sits beside you and goes along with anything you've come up with. It's always been like this until today, every time you came to his place after something happened between you and his best friend, every time he had to gather your broken pieces and try to put you together again. He doesn't know he's always done that beautifully though, making a breathtaking mosaic out of you, making you so splendid and wonderful anyone could say he's your creator.

You hear a distant rustling in the kitchen, the clicking of the bottles in the fridge as he closes it with a thud, two glasses colliding it seems, and his slippers sliding on the floor, approaching you.

"You're lucky petal, I have your favorite today." he proceeds to place the glasses on the way too elegant coffee table and pour the drink with all the calmness in the world. Time with Hyunjin stops. You think that every second spent with him is never wasted.

"I like this clip, it compliments your hair color." he says suddenly, snapping you out of your trance. How could he notice such a thing?

"Really? It's the first time I wear it…" you still mumble a bit, too shaken to let your voice take its natural timbre. Hyunjin laughs again, handing you the drink and carefully sitting so as to not spill everything on his expensive carpet. His body is completely facing yours, knee against knee.

"It's not true!" Hyunjin takes a sip and giggles at your confused expression.

"You had it the first time we met, too. It was perfect with your dress and necklace. Do you really not remember? You looked beautiful…"

What Hyunjin refers to is a random saturday evening of autumn. What day it was, what you were wearing, what you did before meeting in front of the restaurant, you can't remember… but what you can vividly recall is the stinging sensation of the first cold breeze of the season on your cheeks, how crunchy multicolored leaves swirled on the sidewalk, and the city lights beginning to be turned on a bit earlier than usual. Now that you think about it, it was around this period. You remember what perfume you wore, paying attention to what type of impression you wanted to give to your boyfriend's group of friends that you were about to meet for the first time, and you even remember what mascara you decided to use.

But what remained tattooed on your bones the most are the first ten seconds of Hwang Hyunjin taking possess of your vision, because you felt incredibly sick.

If you close your eyes and concentrate you can almost feel the same emotions, when your stomach swirled like it was a washing machine, your head light, and your legs almost giving in making you trip while standing still.

You felt incredibly guilty, disgusted with yourself, disappointed, a monster. Why the hell your first thought was "he's my soulmate" and not something along the lines of "nice, my boyfriend's best friend" you still don't know. Call it destiny, call it sixth sense, you immediately tried to suppress it all.

It didn't help that Hyunjin's slender fingers delicately took your hand to kiss your knuckles with his oh, oh so beautiful lips like an ambassador of chivalry itself, his siren eyes looking up at you sweetly but confidently, making you blush like crazy ー you later blamed your flustered expression to the restaurant's excessive heating.

On top of that, your boyfriend decided to sit at your side leaving Hyunjin in front of you, so you had his ridiculously handsome face in sight for the whole night as you ate your stupid california rolls and tried to elegantly slurp your noodles ー for as much as something like that is even possible.

You talked, a lot, even if you felt your face heat up at every strangely seductive giggling sound he made together with the little bumps his shoes would land on your naked ankles, toying with your heels from time to time. You had so much in common, and after that you only felt complete when he was near you.

Your boyfriend did catch on with the new dynamic though, so unfortunately considering how jealous and a bit possessive he is, you and Hyunjin didn't see each other as often as you expected after that, but you really didn't grasp that it was because he wanted you apart at first, just a series of unfortunate coincidences.

Hyunjin parted from you with a tight hug, lingering his hands on the smaller of your back, adjusting your shawl over your coat and twirling a strand of your hair behind your ear, the moment never fully leaving your memory. He was… perfect, really just perfect, and you couldn't help but feel nauseous when you got in the car with your boyfriend to let him accompany you to your apartment, the thought of another man being more suited for you making you feel like you were cheating. You only felt relieved when you talked about all his friends during the ride and he revealed that Hyunjin is "a bit of a player, y'know, he flirts with everyone and he has those french manners, but he's always been like this." so you thought that maybe your feelings would slowly fade… but they always, always rested down the bottom of your heart, even if you pushed them away forcefully, almost violently.

No one knows you two meet up from time to time now, because one time you found yourself crying in a corner on his shouler. No one knows that you always seem happy and carefree only because you talk with Hyunjin, because he comforts you when you need it without complaining. Not that it needs to be a secret, but you both are well aware that it may result suspicious to meet with your boyfriend's best friend late at night, best friend's girlfriend from his side.

And the fact that you two always seem to attract each other like magnets, so close, with instant connection, it doesn't let thoughts stray further from the idea of something tender existing between the two of you, everyone can see it.

It's just that it's prohibited. Or, to say it better, you were too caught in your lies to even contemplate the idea of leaving your boyfriend and Hyunjin simply didn't want to betray his "friend". But when you started to message him asking for advice, when you later had long calls together, when you crumbled in his arms crying almost weekly, he wasn't so sure about having a best friend anymore.

"I… you really think I was beautiful?"

Your question comes from the heart. The mixture of the memories of that night and his proximity makes heat rise on your face, shyness visible from the automatic action of your teeth catching your bottom lip and your gaze straying from his face to linger on the glass in your hands. The bubbles of the drink fizzle on the surface and for a moment or two that's all that can be heard in the room.

"You're always beautiful, y/n. I told you many times." he says cautiously, putting down everything to wrap his hands around your wrist.

"I don't know how he doesn't make you feel like you are, I don't know why he treats you like this but, petal, you're an incredible woman," he lowers his head to look into your eyes as he tries to explain himself further, "smart and strong. He's an asshole and you should stop doing this to yourself."

Does he know? Does he know what your boyfriend did? Probably not. Hyunjin would never hurt you, he would've immediately told you. You want to make sure though, in case everything that involves Hyunjin is a lie too.

"Why are you his friend then? Why do you keep coming to our house and have dinner as we fake not knowing each other like we really do? Why do you keep on hanging out with him? If you really think he's terribleー"

"Because I want to protect you."

His reply is fast, cutting you off. His stare bores into your eyes and drinks in all of your feelings, like he can see them displayed in front of him. A few seconds of silence fill the room and you suddenly gulp down your drink until the last drop, sprinting up from your seat and escaping his intoxicating presence that's almost engulfing you.

Hyunjin doesn't say a thing. He waits, he can sense that something big happened this time and fuck if he's going to kill his "friend" after this. You were never this silent, you usually would storm inside and throw yourself on him… for as much as he dislikes seeing you like this, he's grateful for your presence, for the feel of your body against his, the trust you put into him. He doesn't do all this just to be a rebound, he already knows part of him is yours and vice versa, so he's simply waiting. Everyone considers him being a romantic man, but really, he just believes in destiny. When Hyunjin first saw you every cell in his body started to boil, goosebumps rising down his nape, the world destroyed itself and was reborn before him, it's impossible that it didn't matter at all.. That was the day he realized he didn't know what "love" meant before.

He watches your silhouette get near the big windows that face the road, little droplets of water striking them. The sound of the rain reaches your ears only when you notice the detail, and soon you see how much water is actually coming down from the sky, your scarf already soaked and dirty laying alone between various cars. You take a deep breath, thinking about your next words, a way to tell Hyunjin what happened without sounding pathetic as you concentrate on the mesmerizing foliage outside, reds and oranges and yellows decorating the city landscape.

"He accidentally left his phone at home since he rushed to his office, I don't exactly know why…" you started to explain, hands fidgeting with your rings, heavy breath obstructing your throat, "and I heard a notification so I went to check right?"

Hyunjin slowly gets up and approaches you, his warmth radiating behind you now, hands resting on your shoulders and caressing them as he listens and slowly gets closer and closer until he's hugging you.

"So, petal? What was it about? Did you find porn?" he tries to guess, but when you shake your head as a 'no' a cold chill goes through his back. Oh, oh no…

"It… it was a message, a very sexual one, coming from a saved contact, I don't even remember the name." you pout, looking down almost in shame even if you're not the responsible one. Maybe it's the shame of having a cheater as a partner.

"I opened the chat Hyunie. They've been sexting for months and from what I could grasp they even met few times…" you can feel tears start to form on your waterline again, a deep ache inside your chest rises when you finally say it out loud. One thing was to acknowledge it, another was to tell everything to the man you've secretly been in love with for a year already. What were you doing exactly all this time?

"Am I really not good enough for anyone, Hyunie? She's… she's so different from me… Am I really a disaster as he says? Why would he do that to me? I've always been a good girlfriend, I even ignored all those mean words and his being immature and the shitty sex!! I put aside my needs to make him happy thinking I was the problem!" you turn around to face him and you're met with his serious expression.

You expected to find him at least slightly surprised by your sudden show of emotions, but he's calm, he radiates calmness. Hyunjin sighs and looks in the distance behind you for a second, blinking ever so slowly, his touch traveling up to cup your cheeks and wipe your angry tears with his thumbs.

That's the final stroke, the gesture that makes you sob and bury your face in his chest to hide.

You aren't broken yet, it's almost as if Hyunjin is physically holding you together. He's trying to smooth the new sharp edges that formed around your heart to not let it be isolated, while hugging you he's working hard to let it be still approachable to receive and give love, he's trying with all he has to prevent a horrible plague that's trying to approach you.

You hold his shirt between your hands, tightly, you're afraid you'll ruin it but you can't stop, you need to ground yourself and try to be strong, but it's so hard to not let him sway you around the room, lullying you as he hushes you and lets his fingers comb your messy hair.

"Leave him."

You freeze.

Did he really say that? Hyunjin never said it out loud. He did make you understand his vision about the situation, he did suggest it with hidden phrases, but so explicitly…

"It's time to let him go, don't you think?" he presses his lips on your forehead, continuing to mumble his real feelings, "You don't need someone who mistreats you petal. You deserve better." he closes them in a kiss that leaves a mark on your soul, making you gasp.

"Hyunjin?" it takes a lot of strength to look up at him. His eyes seem less gentle, brows forming a frown that's not his usual playful one, a bit scary even. The mole under his eye is contracted and his mouth is curved in disgust, just enough for you to understand he's furious.

"Why don’t we put an end to this farce? He didn't even deserve you in the first place, you don't love him, stop doing this to yourself y/n. There's someone who's the right one, for sure…" his tone is desperate, but you want him to say it clearly. You can't help it, if it's to be sure or to satisfy a need you've been having for a while you don't know, but you want him to say it loud and clear.

You know that if he says it now everything will change and it'll be scary as fuck, but if that's a premise for a better life… maybe it's not as scary as you think, it's Hyunjin after all, the man who's looking at you in adoration.

"And what man could possibly want me at this point?" your voice is shaky and uncertain as you tease the confession out of him.

Hyunjin looks away and smiles, a bit frustrated. He wipes another tear away from your cheek and then places his hands on your waist.

"Me?" he fakes the question, smiling softly; "Be mine y/n."

Breath gets caught in your throat as he finally says it. It's wrong that you waited for it, it's wrong that your first instinct is to say yes without thinking about it.

"Hyunjin Iー"

"Ooh don't say you don't reciprocate, petal. I know you too well." he interrupts you, his hold a little tighter. Hyunjin tilts his head to the side, few strands of black raven hair following the motion and slightly covering his eyes. He's beautiful now, even more than in any other moment you've ever been with him. Hyunjin is the most beautiful man in the world and he wants you.

Your phone starts ringing. It's a strange moment to realize your ringtone is kind of cringe, cutting the tension weirdly… but you can't laugh, not right now. Both you and Hyunjin know who it is.

He's right. You should put an end to all this and start to think for yourself, about what you really want, need. This is not wrong. To love yourself isn't wrong, and Hyunjin makes you feel like the person you want to be.

"Do you want to pick up?" Hyunjin takes his hand under your chin again and directs it up to make your eyes meet his, gaze frenetic as he tries to not look at your tempting lips. Everything will depend on what you decide now. And you think quickly, under pressure, and you don't know if it's a good idea or not but you shake your head and hold him tighter, hiding again.

"Y/n, please look at me…"

The phone eventually stops ringing and silence overwhelms you when you can hear his fast heartbeat right against your ear. And it's because of you, it's for you, your heart starts to adapt to his and you almost feel pain in your chest. It's too much, too much…

Ah, that's it.

You get on your tiptoes to pull him down by his collar and make your lips crash together.

Hyunjin drags you towards him as if you kissed thousands of times before, immediately, tongue slipping into your mouth as you grant him access, making it run along yours. You hold his shoulders trying to search for your lost balance and he's quick to walk you towards his bedroom, he isn't even slightly hesitant.

The desperate sighs you two let out add into the sound of your first kiss; it's a relief, something you didn't imagine to need so badly. Hyunjin pushes you further into the room until your legs meet the mattress and you fall on it guided by him, a knee starting to press beside you as he cradles on the bed on top of you. He can't stop kissing you.

Hyunjin clumsily reaches the lamp on the nightstand to turn it on and oh, oh if this is even better than any fantasy he's ever had… seeing you panting with that flustered expression, your legs already crossing beneath him, jumper half lifted up, your hair all disheveled since you quickly reached for your clip and threw it somewhere in the room. You just look breathtaking in his eyes, even more than any other moment he's ever thought about it. He has to let you know. You didn't think he'd turn on the light but maybe you can put aside your shyness for once if it means having this type of gaze reserved to you.

Your hands try to reach his shirt to pull him out of his trance and he resumes his kissing, hands flying on your sides as they slowly, painfully slowly slide down until he's hooking your pants. Hyunjin lowers down to press chaste kisses on the little part of your cleavage that is exposed, going down to your stomach, then your belly, until he darts his tongue out to lick a stripe just above your groin, leaving a longer kiss there while he proceeds to undress you.

The way you feel embarrassed when you remember you're wearing plain, white cotton panties… but it's honestly sending him haywire. The fact that you didn't expect to end up like this, a confirmation that you didn't plan anything to happen, it's making Hyunjin even harder in his confines. You're so wet your juices dampened the fabric, making it almost transparent, and he sighs at the faint outline of your cunt now puffy and pulsing… and he still has to touch you properly.

Hyunjin is honestly the same. You can't see it but waves of excitement run over him so violently he physically trembles and his legs give in from time to time.

“I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't dare to come back to him…” it's whisperes, almost as if he's accidentally thinking out loud but it makes you clench. Hyunjin's fingers start to tease you on top of the fabric, seeing the wet patch getting larger and larger. You can't believe this part of him exists… how many things do you still have to learn about him?

Hyunjin keeps on touching you there but this time he starts flicking, snapping his fingers where you're most sensitive, the tingles that start to make you jolt are strong and they make your breath sharp.

“H-Hyunjin…” your stuttering voice slightly higher as you call for him, he rolls his eyes back.

“Hyunjin please…” you can't help but pant, wrapping your hand around his forearm to try and make him slow down. Is this what those stupid magazines talked about? That sex feels better when you do it with someone you love? So fucking true.

Hyunjin feels on cloud nine. He starts paying attention on your neck tenderly but still with open-mouthed kisses as his fingers subtly slide your panties to the side. “Yeah petal, let me hear you, let me…” his words get lost as he concentrates. Ah, it's uncomfy for him. Hyunjin lifts your legs and carelessly slides your underwear off with a hiss, his eyes closing like they've been blinded by the vision of the Virgin Mary for a second, then maniacally staring at your bare cunt, digits caressing your wet folds mere seconds before plunging into your entrance.

You can only let out a choked moan and push your head back onto his soft cushions, that smells just like him. You're completely surrounded by his presence when his scent is all around you, his fingers move smoothly to work you open and his mouth is now latched around your nipple, his forehead pushing your jumper further up. When the hell did he…

“Is it good?” his voice displaying signs of fatigue, urgency and need buried deep inside him. You know his fingers are long but God if they can reach otherworldly places. It's not the in-and-out motion but the brushing of your g-spot that makes your legs close around his sides and poke his ribcage with your knees; he doesn't mind, your tits keep him occupied enough to make him mindlessly keep going. Hyunjin decides that prefers your chest covered in love marks over any art piece he's ever seen these past years, so nothing can disturb his work in progress. Maybe the work itself.

“‘S good Hyunie, Hyun…” it's difficult to breathe, it's difficult to think straight as the bumps of his fingers touch your insides so precisely, as if you've always done this and he already knew your body by memory.

“Did his fingers ever make you feel like this? Hm?”

The question makes you sigh along with a moan. You shake your head.

“Did he ever kiss you like I do?” and Hyunjin kisses you again as the movement of his fingers fastens. His teeth catch your bottom lip and his tongue slides against yours before he sucks it, drool making it shine where you two meet; passionate and euphoric, it feels like experimenting fireworks. You follow his lips when he detaches, but he just smiles and starts pressing his thumb on your bare clit. “Tell me, petal.”

“N-no…”

Hyunjin feels it, the way you start clenching around him, hard. He almost can't move anymore. So he whispers, just above the squelching of his palm spreading your wetness.

“Wanna go to Heaven with me, y/n?”

How, how can you say no? You need Hyunjin, even more than oxygen right now, he already has you completely. Your hands hurry on the button somehow miraculously keeping his pants together, and you reach his zip and pull the fly, that struggles to slide down ー he's too full.

“Wanna try how a real man makes you feel?”

You nod almost too eagerly and he chuckles within a whiffle. Hyunjin deprives you of his fingers despite your whines of protest and spreads your juices all over his face, tongue swirling on his hand. A low groan comes out from him, his touch moving to your hips where he squeezes, plush skin bending under his grip. It's all in contrast with the look in his eyes as he stares at your face, your reactions, as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

You're so distracted that when you feel something poke your inner thigh you gasp, and can only stare… his cock springs free from his confines altogether, long, slim and leaking, underside vein pulsating under the pads of his fingers as he pumps himself few times, precum dripping on your groin. Hyunjin's eyebrows are knitted together as he grinds between your legs, his still sticky hand moving your lower body closer so that he lifts you back up to wrap his arms around you, hugging you ever so gently.

His full lips kiss your cleavage and he curses under his breath because of his choice to not take all your clothes off but there's not much time anymore. You close your fists on his shirt, the lines of the fabric changing their shape under your hold while you wait for him, subtly writhing impatiently.

“Hyun please hurry…” not once in your life you've been this desperate for a man to fuck you. It's not because of the wait, not because you're horny, it's just that it's Hyunjin.

“Say it.” his eyes are darker, but they shine with the yellow-ish light in the room. He clears your forehead by adjusting your hair away.

You know what he's doing and it's nothing different from what you did before, in the living room, so you're more than willing to satisfy his request. You try to regain a bit of composure and steady your breath before speaking up, his head twitching together with every movement of yours.

"I want you, Hyunjin. I want you, please.”

A big bright smile spreads on his face as his head drops low, in disbelief. Hyunjin didn't imagine those words would have such a strong effect on him but here he is, blushing and trying to hold back a giggle. When he looks back at you he's serious again, eyes piercing into yours.

“I'm going in, hm? I wanna hear you scream my name through it all. Is that clear petal?”

What you'd give to hear him call you petal until the end of time, he says it and it's like dripping honey, he says it and you melt. The warm pool of pleasure in your belly tightens again as you say a shaky “yes”. You're his delicate, fragile petal.

His tip rests just before your entrance for a second while he takes a deep breath, breaching you gently. It's not a big stretch but his veins are already making your eyelids flutter and your lips part. Inch by inch, Hyunjin makes sure you feel his cock going deep, concern showing on your features as he doesn't come to an halt. He does, eventually, but the time he took to do it seemed eternal. “Oh my- Hyunie-”

“Bet my dick feels better than his,” he smirks between the kisses he's leaving under your jawline, “I bet mine's longer too.”

His comments only add fuel to the fire. He's bigger, he's better, the curve of his cock lands exactly on the spot that makes you black out. As you remember that you're technically still in a relationship your phone rings again. It's a distant sound, it's in another room, covered by yours and Hyunjin's sighs and moans, but he hears it too. Hyunjin stops every movement, hips against yours as he's fully inside you. He lifts himself up just enough to check on you. You look at him too.

You don't exchange any word, there's no need to, because you both arch your lips upwards and meet mid-air for another kiss, tender but messy as he moves backwards to get a starting point to his thrusts. The ringtone eventually dies making room to the faint dripping of the rain outside.

You feel warm, squeezing his cock just right and he's sure he will never let you go, never let you change your mind.

“Pussy ‘s so tight petal, was made for me, ‘m sure,” and he starts moving with consistency, picking up a pleasant rhythm, “you're so fucking perfect.”

His necklace is cold against your skin as he keeps on holding you flush against him, as well as your rings leaving icy lines on his back when your hands slip under his shirt and hold onto his shoulder blades. Hyunjin throbs inside you, drawing loud moans out of you that someone will for sure complain about. He thrusts harder, faster, every second that passes and you can only call for his name, yours being whispered by him against your skin making you shiver.

“Waited so long, so fucking long-” a guttural sound interrupting him, “since that time at the club, wanted to make you mine.” he mumbles, words hardly making sense but you decipher them anyway and when you realize what he's talking about the confused memories of it flood your mind. You, swaying your hips in front of him, grinding your ass on his crotch following the music; Hyunjin's hands right under your breasts guiding you together with him, his breath fanning on your neck, drying your tears completely as those three drinks made your head light enough to not care about any problem you complained about minutes before. It was just you and Hyunjin, all this would've happened sooner if a series of coincidences didn't happen.

“You would've let me take you in the bathroom, isn't that right?” Hyunjin asks, not losing concentration even for a second. “I wanted to bring you here, and fuck the sadness away. Every time, y/n, I wanted to tell you to forget him and be with me.”

You feel him stretch his arm between your bodies, and you feel your swollen bud stimulated again, you both whine against each other.

“‘M with you now Hyunie, want only you, ‘m yours babe.”

He's so fast now, the snapping of his hips moving you up and down the mattress… your words affect him on a visceral level.

“I choose you, I'll leave him for you-”

“Fuck!” he's close, so, so close and your walls tightening more and more and more are making him go crazy. Little beads of sweat decorate his forehead, a caramel-like smell coming from him as the crown of his head dampens and some hair stick to his forehead.

His tip keeps abusing your sweet spot, the kiss you share is feverish, your nails dig into his skin and his hold bruises your soft one. Both your bellies contract and before you can process it you're coming, white pois pattern creating over your blinding vision. You say his name out loud, dragging it together with your last moan as the hardest orgasm ever washes over you. Hyunjin pulls out just in time, copious white ropes of cum landing on your stomach like dripping art. Hyunjin loses track of space and time for a few moments as he comes down from his high, then takes you close to him when he lays next to you. Your heavy breath fills every other sound in your ears as you get comfortable hiding in his muscular chest. Your body spasms, all energy left your body already and your chest rises and falls frantically.

Hyunjin caresses your cheek and kisses your hair. It's peaceful. You just had sex with your boyfriend's best friend and it feels peaceful. It starts to feel a bit cold so he grabs the soft sheets near him and covers both of you.

“When will you tell him, petal?”

The question floats in the air for a while. You start playing with his necklace, making it dance between your fingers. He starts to worry a bit, when you don't answer him, but he decides to be patient, like always.

“After we eat something, I'll send him a text.” you seem resolute, and he's convinced. “Can I stay here tonight?”

He's a bit taken aback, his eyes narrowing in surprise: “Wasn't it obvious? You'll stay here from now on anyway.” and he says it so naturally, you think he's thought about this moment a lot… it makes you smile.

Hyunjin rolls to the side briefly, taking some tissues to wipe yours and his stomach since his sticky cum was still there, and kisses the tip of your nose adjusting your jumper back to its original place before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his phone, after finally freeing himself of his shirt. His back is slender yet defined, long, his spine making a beautiful curve. Your eyes travel from his nape to his glutes, the ones of a dancer. There's a doubt still in the back of your mind, you need to make it disappear.

“Are you… sad, that you can't be friends with him anymore?”

He doesn't even bother looking at you to answer, he keeps scrolling on the delivery app searching for something you may want to eat, the words he's about to say seeming obvious to him.

“We haven't been friends for a while already. I understood he's not the guy I met years ago, he changed, and I don't like to be around him anymore. Don't worry petal, it's not entirely because of you, I already wanted to part from him but you came into our lives so I endured it some more to stay with you… and it was worth it.” one of his hands shifts position behind him and taps the covers to signal for you to hold it. Your fingers interlace and he looks at you over his shoulder, slowly turning around, his body twisting slightly as he leans back again and kisses you sweetly yet still with some need.

Your breath is now steady, you're relaxed and it feels like Heaven, just like he promised.

"Pizza?"

You giggle and he follows.

“I love you y/n. I love you.”

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part ten

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine

“You’re insane,” Oscar tells his teammate when he sees you walking towards Lando and him. “Actually insane,” he mutters when he gets an even closer look on you. When you feel Oscar his eyes on you, you know for sure what he’s looking at. He looks at the same thing that everyone else is looking at when they see you. Lando his love bites. Why did he even leave them so out in the open? You tried to cover them up with make up, but it didn’t work. If you brought a turtle neck with you, you would have worn it for sure right now. But since you’re in another hot country, you only have summer clothes with low necklines. Which means that everyone can see the marks on your skin that Lando made two days earlier. You curse him for leaving them on this place, but you continue to walk closer to him. 

“Insane?” Lando asks Oscar. He notices the way his teammate looks at you. 

“Is this to show Pierre that she’s taken or something stupid like that?” Oscar continues to scold Lando. He didn’t even think about it like that, but now that he does… The hickeys might help with Pierre backing off a bit. “You can’t claim something you don’t own,” Oscar sighs, “just remember that before you do more stupid shit.”

Before Lando can say anything to Oscar, you’re already standing in front of them. He notices the way you try to cover the hickeys with you hair, but he stills sees the red love bites. Now that he thinks about it, let everyone see them - maybe then everyone will figure out that you belong to him. 

“Hey baby,” Lando greets you.

“Don’t baby me, I’m mad at you,” you sigh, “I should have brought a turtleneck with me. Everyone is looking at me.”

“Sorry,” Lando jokes. He watches around you and notices the way people are watching at you. You’re right. Everyone is paying attention to you. He notices some press workers as well. Normally the track isn’t busy on Wednesdays, but today seems different. He hears cameras clicking. Are people taking pictures of you? He starts to stress a bit. Lando pulls you closer to himself and drapes his arm around your shoulder, using it to hide your hickeys a bit more. 

“I might have a crewneck sweater laying here somewhere,” Lando tells you. 

You nod at Lando. Together you walk inside the McLaren motorhome. You notice the way even some mechanics are watching you. You’re going to kill Lando. This is all his fault. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them, he takes your hand and pulls you with him the his drivers room. There you finally get his sweater. You’re quick to put it on. Happily you watch in the mirror, almost no love bite is still visible now. The sweater is way too hot, but you rather become sweaty then have people look at you for the whole day. You can only hope they’ll fade away quickly. In silence the two of you walk back to the track. 

Together with Lando you’re strolling on the track. It’s relaxing to walk around with him like this. Lando is holding your hand. You like the peaceful silence between you two right now. It feels comfortable and relaxing. You realize that you don’t feel like this around other people. Lando has always been your safe place. It reminds you about how special things are between Lando and you, but it reminds you most about how you can’t fuck things up between you two. 

Your feelings are already coming in the way. They have always done, but since you have been experiencing the sexual stuff with him it has become worse. Maybe it’s because you have a tiny bit of hope that Lando also feels something for you. It’s the first time you have ever had that hope. Partly because of his jealousy, that must mean something right? But still, you wonder if it’s worth it if it can also ruin your friendship? What if you’re wrong and Lando doesn’t feel the same? 

When Lando grabs your hand, he pulls you out of your thoughts. “Don’t look to fast,” he says, “but I think Pierre is coming this way.” Fuck. You’re not in the mood for that. Slowly you watch around you, it doesn’t take you long to see that Lando is right. Pierre is walking towards the two of you. In only a couple seconds he’s standing in front of you. 

“You could have told me,” Pierre says to Lando without any context. 

“Told you what?” Lando asks confused. 

“Come on,” Pierre sighs, “All the gossip accounts are full with it. The two of you are dating.”

“Sorry?” You ask confused, “Are gossip accounts stating that we’re dating?”

“Yes!”

You let out a sigh. Gossip accounts have always been a thing. They always suspect that there’s something going on between Lando and you, but they never had any proof. You drop Lando his hand. This is a mess. You don’t even want to see your socials right now, they’re probably full with hate. Fuck. 

“Since when do you believe gossip accounts?” Lando asks Pierre.

“Since she has been spotted with hickeys all over her and she’s now wearing one of your crewneck sweaters,” Pierre answers annoyed, “I don’t get it why you didn’t tell me. I made a fool of myself by asking her on a date. You could have said something.”

“I told you that you weren’t her type.”

Lando continues to argue with Pierre. You on the other hand can only wonder when the gossip accounts are going to share the pictures of your love bites. Fuck, what are ‘fans’ going to do then? You grab your phone and look at the way your notifications are already blowing up. Reactions keep coming, you read a couple of them. Most of them are calling you a slut. Whenever you see a nice one, there are more negative ones beneath them. You search on a gossip page, wondering what they already posted. Then you see one of the pictures.

It’s you in your former outfit. The hickeys on your neck and collar are hard to miss. Suddenly you start to feel watched. It feels like everyone around you is looking at you. 

“You should have told me that you two are dating,” Pierre scoffs angrily.

“We’re not,” you sigh. It’s the first time that you’re saying something again. “And even if we were, it’s none of your business. Can you take me back to the motorhome Lando?”

When you’re finally back in Lando his drivers room, you grab your phone again. Your notifications are blowing up. It seems like everyone is talking about Lando and you dating. You have never gotten this many comments under a Instagram post, you’re above a thousand now on your most recent post. You try to read as many as you can, but a lot of them are the same. People are calling you a slut for “parading” around the track with the hickeys. Others are saying that Lando deserves better, that you’re only with him for the fame. As if you weren’t with him before he even started in Formula One. Sometimes you read a positive comment. Some people seem to like it that Lando and you are “finally” together, not that it’s true. Some people are even reacting about the true love between you two. All of it makes you sad. You don’t even notice the tears that are falling down on your cheeks, until Lando wipes a couple of them away.

Lando doesn’t know how to act. He takes you into his arms and tries to comfort you as much as he can manage. He doesn’t know what is wrong, but he can guess. When Pierre said something about the gossip accounts, he didn’t even think about the consequences for you from those accounts, but now he remembers. Every time they post about you, your notifications are blowing up. People know how to find your Instagram and how to leave horrible comments. He doesn’t even want to read it. 

“Nothing of what they’re saying is true babygirl,” Lando shushes. You let out a soft sob. “Everyone thinks I’m a slut,” you tell him, “or a gold digger or just an awful person.”

“You’re not.” He presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most wonderful person I know,” he continues, “So stop letting this get to you babygirl, they’re not worth it.” 

“Lan?” You ask softly. He nods and waits for you to continue. “This is all your fault,” you softly joke, “fucking hickeys.” Lando lets out a soft laugh. 

+++

“Fuck, babygirl,” Lando grunts when you lower your body onto his. He feels himself enter you. “You feel so fucking good.”

You’re sitting on top of Lando. He’s not even more then ten minutes back from the second free practice. It didn’t went like he wanted to. When he got out of the car, he let everyone know about that. The moment he started to scold multiple mechanics you were quick to intervene. Normally you don’t, but Lando kept going on and on. It was getting too much. He really lost his temper this time. You wonder why, normally he’s rather patient. 

Slowly you move your body on top of Lando. This position makes you feel more fulled up then the first time. With slow movements you fuck him. When you let out a soft moan, Lando shows you a small smile. His hands are all over your body. He kneads your boobs while pressing his lips against your collarbone. Softly placing kisses all over it. 

You didn’t know what got into you when you grabbed Lando his hand while he acted rude to his team. He gave you a surprised look and even shut his mouth for a bit. When you stood on your toes to reach his ear, he turned all of his attention to you. “If you stop whining,” you whisper, “I’ll have sex with you in your drivers room.” Lando shut in within seconds. He even apologized to his crew before taking your hand and almost running towards his drivers room with you. Undressing you as soon as he turned the door behind him. When your dress was all up and his pants were down and he was ready to enter you, you surprised him one more time. “I want to be on top.”

Lando can’t stop himself from letting out multiple moans when you increase your pace. Faster then before you move yourself on top of him. He grabs your neck and moves your face closer towards himself so he can kiss you properly. His hands are still busy kneading your boobs. He gives your nipples a bit more attention by softly pulling on them. 

“Fuck Lan,” you whine when he pulls back from the kiss. He chuckles and let his hands slide down on your body. His lips are attached to your neck. “No more visible marks,” you instruct half jokingly, half serous. Lando grunts but moves his mouth a bit lower, making sure his new marks can be covered with summer clothes. 

You’re surprised when you feel Lando put his finger on your clitoris. He shows you a small smile when he notices your surprised look. Slowly he traces circles on the sensitive bud, making you feel all kind of things. You let out a loud moan. Lando adds a bit more pressure. You try to increase your pace as well, but you start to feel worn out. Lando helps you, effortless he moves himself inside of you. Picking up a fast pace. It causes you to let out more moans. 

“Fucking insane how good you feel,” Lando groans. He feels himself coming close to his orgasm, but he wants to feel you cum on his dick first. He increases his pace on both fucking you as on playing with your sensitive bud. Stimulating you as much as he can. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” Lando asks you, “Let me feel how good it feels to have your pussy clenching around my cock.” You don’t react verbally. Lando keeps talking dirty to you. “So fucking tight.” “Such a good girl.” 

“I’m close Lan,” you suddenly tell him, “Can I cum?”

Lando increases his pace as much as he can. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you. When he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, he lets go as well. When his cum enters your body, Lando tells you one more thing. “My good girl.” It makes you all flustered. 

+++

Days are going by quickly. Before you know it, it’s already Sunday - meaning it’s race day again. This is the last race of the triple header, meaning that after this Lando and you will go back home. You don’t know how to feel about that. Last weeks you have spent al your time with Lando, sleeping in his hotel rooms and being together almost every moment of the day. It has been extremely nice. You like living with Lando like this. That’s maybe why you don’t like going back home tomorrow. Then you’ll be alone in your own apartment again, without Lando laying next to you in the bed every night. 

“Good luck kiss?” Lando asks you. He holds his helmet. He’s almost ready to get into his car and to start with the race. You show him a small nod and press the standard ‘good luck kiss’ against his cheek. Like you always do when you’re with him at races. “Don’t know if that will bring me enough luck,” Lando jokes. 

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean? Before you can ask about it, Lando presses his lips on your for a small moment of time. It can’t have lasted longer then a second, but it was long enough to wake up the butterflies in your stomach. You look around you. Did anyone see it? It can’t be. You don’t more negative comments on your socials. Now that you think about it, what did just happen? Since when is Lando kissing you in public places? 

Lando doesn’t say anything else, he walks off to his car. He can only think about what he just did. He realizes that if anyone saw, it will mean that you’ll get more hate. Maybe he should say something about it on his socials? He needs some help from his PR team. He wonders what’s going on with him. He just kissed you in a public place, practically on his work, where everyone could see. Since when are you doing that? If someone saw and shares it, the madhouse will be complete. He wonders what would happen if he would date you and share it online. People have been shipping the two of you for a long time, so some of them might be happy. But there are always so many haters. When he takes place in his car, he looks at the Alpine motorhome. He remembers Pierre his statements from earlier this week. Finally someone who understands that you’re not for him to take. 

He really should solve this problem and make you his. 

Then he remembers something else. Didn’t you have a date planned with some guy for after the triple header? He tries to forgot about it and focus on the upcoming race, but that seems to be hard form him right now. He can’t stop thinking about the guy who’s taking you on a date. Who is it? Will you fall in love with him? When he lines up to the start, he’s still thinking about the guy you’re going on a date with. 

You watch Lando race. All of your focus is on him, nothing new now that you think about it. Only this time it doesn’t feel like it normally does. It’s because of some weird feeling that you can’t seem to shake off. It almost feels like something is going to happen. Something bad. It feels off. You don’t know why you’re thinking like this right now, but you can’t seem to stop. You can’t take your eyes off the screen which shows Lando his car all the time. Multiple mechanics are watching the fight for second place, but you can only focus on Lando. Even the way he races feels off. It’s hard to say without any knowledge about it, but he almost seems unfocused. 

Then you see the reason behind your feeling. Lando misses his braking point. Within seconds he’s spinning into the wall. You let out a loud scream when it happens. Quickly you stand up and walk closer to the screen. All the attention of everyone in the motorhome is on the screen as well now. Everyone is waiting for Lando to say something. To let them know he’s okay. 

You need to hear Lando say something. You need to know if he’s okay. The crash didn’t look massive, but still bad. It doesn’t take long for a safety car to show up on the grid, leading the drivers. Many drivers are coming into the pit to change their tires. You don’t notice any of it, you just keep waiting for Lando to say something. The stress doesn’t leave your body. 

“I’m ok.”

You feel how you let out a lot of air at once with a relieved sigh. Thank god, Lando is okay. You watch how he climbs out of his car. It seems like he has no trouble with walking away from the track to get back to the motorhome. Within a couple minutes you see Lando showing up at the motorhome. The medical team is following him inside, you hear some talks about medical checks but you don’t follow it. All of your attention is on Lando. 

While walking to Lando you almost trip over your own feet. “Fuck Lan,” you stammer while rushing yourself into his arms. Lando doesn’t react verbally, he just wraps his arms around your body and holds you closely to himself. You don’t even notice that you’re making his race suit wet with your tears. “Are you hurt?” You ask him. 

“We would have known if he joined us for his medical checks,” someone tells you with an annoyed tone in her voice. You let go of Lando and look around you, only to see that the whole medical team is gathered around you. 

“You didn’t have your check up yet?” You ask Lando confused. “No,” he replies. “Fucking hell Lan,” you mutter, “Go with them you idiot.” Lando shows you a boyish grin, “Sorry babygirl, I wanted to see you first.” 

Lando and you are rejoined only a small hour later. He is still laying in a hospital bed. The medical team decided that he needed some rest before getting back out of there. The crash wasn’t hard and didn’t left much damage across for a few bruises and painful spots on his body. They gave him some pain medication, which causes him to feel a bit loopy. You’re sitting next to him, waiting until he wakes up. You have seen him on medication like this before, the Grand Prix in Las Vegas showed you how loopy and careless Lando can act with medication like this. You wonder how he will act this time. 

When Lando wakes up, he’s happy to see sitting right next to him. He is quick to remember the way he crashed during the race. He feels ashamed when he realizes why he lost his concentration and how it ended his race, such a rookie mistake. And probably easy to fix if he finally gets the nerve to tell you about his feelings. He feels himself getting mad at himself. Before he can think about it any longer you’re already taking to him. 

“How are you feeling Lan?” You ask him.

“Not great,” Lando sighs honestly.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you confess, “what happened?”

He can’t exactly tell you that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the date you’re going on as soon you’re back in Monaco. That would be stupid. Although it is the real reason. Lando wants to make up some sort of excuse, but he is already talking again. Those fucking pain meds. 

“Couldn’t focus,” he confesses, “I kept thinking about something.” He can barely stop himself on time from telling you that he was thinking about you and your date. 

“About what?” You ask confused. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lando quickly says before he can say anything stupid again. He needs to stop himself from confessing even more. “Okay Lan,” you softly say. You grab his hand and draw some figures on it. There’s a comfortable silence between you two. Lando enjoys your soft touches on your hand. He feels himself getting calm and almost falling asleep again. But right before he falls asleep, he can’t stop himself from saying something stupid again. He cam blame the pain meds, but he knows that he means every word.

“Babygirl?” He asks. “Yeah Lan?”

“Please don’t get a boyfriend,” he says. “And please don’t go on a date when you’re back in Monaco with anyone else then me.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that? How on earth will he fix this? Lando closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep instead of thinking what he just did. Lando doesn’t notice the way you have a small smile laying on your lips and how good you feel because of his words. 

“I already cancelled that date,” you confess to Lando, “After we fucked I decided that it might be a better idea to practice a bit more.” 

Lando opens his eyes and shows you a happy grin. “I don’t think you need a lot of practice,” he says, “but I’m happy to help.”

“That’s a deal.”

“My good girl,” Lando mutters before falling asleep.

part eleven

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[iron-strangers]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Description: It's all true, Jedi can read minds. You've been trained to keep people's thoughts about you for so long. It went well until the day you caught Din's fantasy involving you.

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Female Jedi!Reader

Series: Expanding Clan Mudhorn

Tags: Established Relationships, Mand’alor Din Djarin, A Sprinkle of Family Fluff, Sexual Fantasy, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex (f receiving), Unprotected p-in-v, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Lactation Kink

CW: Reader has AFAB characterization, uses she/her pronouns, is able-bodied, has depicted body changes related to pregnancy and breastfeeding, and hair that can be pulled during sex. No Use of Y/N. Consent Issues: Reader peaks into Din's fantasy. NSFW MINORS DNI

Length: 2.7k

-

According to urban legends, jedi can read minds. That's true, well, to an extent.

Jedi can read unshielded minds. A Jedi’s mental shield helps to prevent their minds so they’re not easily read, but also to prevent them from accidentally reading a non-force sensitive’s mind. This knowledge helped you survive being chased around the galaxy during the Empire’s reign. Imps are weak-minded and you could easily get any information you needed by reading their mind.

As you grew older, some thoughts people had about you turned sexual. Some got you blushing, like the one from a spacer who fantasized about sweet-talking you into having a quickie in the back of the cantina, some others were just plain disturbing and had you slamming a mental shield as quick as you can before fleeing the parameter with your blaster clutched in your hand.

During the old Jedi-Mandalorian war era, Mando'ade have found a way to keep the jetiise out of their head. Beskar helmets are effective for as long as you can remember, but apparently, there's a loophole. Beskar can't block a jedi who's already soul-bonded to a Mandalorian. There might not be any data about this, but let's be real, there's barely any noted soul bonds between a jedi and Mandalorian throughout history.

This explains the weird sync you and Din have. People have mentioned how you complete each other, that you have almost the same opinions on things, how you two always make the same decisions, both politically and on the battlefield. Some might even suggest that you and him finish each other's sentences. It's a cliché, written in teenager’s holonovels. So you're used to laughing it off, deflecting that you probably just spent too much time together, that between leading and parenting, agreeing on the same thing is just what spouses do. The Armorer called you ‘two halves of one warrior’ at your wedding ceremony. It should’ve ring an alarm in your mind, but in your defense, you were too busy getting swooned off your feet.

It became apparent one day when you met him in a small bakery, just a few minutes away from the Keldabe Palace, when he wasn’t supposed to be done until much later in the day. You’ve been craving Keshian Spice Rolls all day and you figured it was a great day to take the kids out, enjoy the sun and a little sweet treats, then surprise your hard-working riduur with a box of pastries back in the palace. Imagine your surprise when you stepped into a bakery and saw him already queuing.

“Rid’ika!” He called, waving to you from the line. You skipped over the lines, smiling and nodding to everyone as you made your way to your riduur. Din took Grogu from you so you can lift Aranar, who’s busy charming everyone off with his toothy grin, up.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, holding his offered hand. “You have to meet the Prince of Bespin in half an hour.”

“I know, but I heard they are baking Keshian Spice Rolls. So I went to buy you some.” Din shrugged, not once caring about the Prince having to wait for him to get back from spoiling his riduur. “And what about you? I thought you have a bes'kad class for the verd’ike this afternoon.”

“The class won’t start for another two hours and I really want a spice roll.”

You heard people behind you aww-ing and you buried your face into his shoulder, humming when you feel cool beskar against your blushing cheek. Din smiled behind his helmet, paying for three spice rolls to go, never once he let your hand go. You got back to the palace with twenty minutes to spare and herded the ad’ike to the Mand’alor’s office.

“Knock when you need him and don’t come in before I answer.” You rushed into the room when you spotted Kryze marching to stop you.

“You two better not be having se-”

“Young ears, Kryze! Manda, we’re just gonna eat Spice Rolls!” You held the pastry packages up for her to see, holding your laughter when you saw her scowling.

“Spice rolls better not be a code for something else, Djarin! You have a meeting in twenty minutes!”

Din closed the door on her face and you locked it with the force for good measure before dissolving into giggles. Din lifted his helmet up and immediately pressed a longing kiss to your lips. The kiss was uncoordinated since the two of you couldn’t stop grinning. The kiss, and the pastries were heavenly, Grogu and Aranar shared a piece, for your peace of mind. After all, it was you who had to wrangle two sugar-high toddlers in the training yard as you teach advanced sword techniques to a group of heavily armed teenagers who happened to be Mandalore's newly sworn warriors.

The impending knock finally came and you shared another sugary sweet kisses with your riduur before you put his helmet back on and sent him away to his duty. The door was barely closed when you were hit with realization.

Fuck, you thought. We’re soul-bonded.

**

Overall, there are worse people to be soul-bonded with. Having one with your own riduur is not a bad thing at all. Having one with your riduur without any source to soul-bond knowledge, however, is another piece of work. Putting a mental shield up against your own riduur feels wrong but you do it anyway, respecting his privacy to his own mind.

Until today.

Today, you feel a gentle nudge at your brick wall of a mental shield, laced with Din's warm force presence. You could've brushed him off and shielded yourself better, but you thought to yourself that a small peak wouldn't be bad.

You're wrong. Oh, you're so wrong because it's bad. Your hand directly flies towards your mouth and you try to stifle a moan as a yawn.

In his fantasy, Din had you bent over the meeting table and he's pounding into you. He has his hand on the small of your back, pressing you down to the table. You're completely naked against the table, pinned beneath the beskar of his armor. You can hear the filthy sound of his cock ramming into your sopping cunt. Din grabs a fistful of your hair, making you cry his name out loud, losing yourself to the stretch and the hard thrusts of Din's cock.

“Oh fuck-” you grit your teeth, clenching your fist on your thigh. You sit there, stunned, breathless, unable to stop watching.

“Can you feel how good this pussy stretches around me, rid’ika?” Din grunts, holding you so close to his hips while his fingers reach down, rubbing your swollen clit. “Such a good girl, do you wanna cum, mesh'la? Wanna soak my cock and make me give you another ik’aad?”

Maker, yes! You thought, trying your damn hardest not to whine while the version of you in his mind is whimpering and begging him to make you cum. Din leans to your ear, telling you to come. You’re shuddering in his arm, moaning his name in a punched out noise with a telltale sign of orgasm, and you snap yourself out of his imagination.

You put your strongest mental shield up and you lean to the plush seat, blinking and looking around the room as you settle yourself back to reality. Din is sitting on the head of the table, looking over his own datapad as he watches a member of his council talk about Mandalore’s quarterly budget report. If you didn’t know better, you’d think your riduur is actively listening to the report instead of daydreaming about fucking you over this very table.

You tread carefully when you're back home. You put Aranar and Grogu to sleep late, making sure they are a little bit more tired than usual so they sleep soundly later tonight. Once the kids are out like lights, you take the baby monitor with you and change into one of Din’s loose shirts.

You find him still seated on the dining table, tapping things into his datapad. You smirk to yourself, walking towards him and leaning over the dining table to take your own datapad that you could easily reach if you make an extra trip to the end of the table. Din can't stop staring, making no move to help you, instead he stands up from the chair and moves to cup the swell of your ass, just like how he imagined before.

“Careful, rid’ika, you don't know what kinda game you're playing here.”

You whine when his hand moves underneath the shirt, trailing up your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He whispers praises to your ear, biting down your jaw and your neck.

“Fuck, look at you, mesh'la, you're expecting this, huh?” He lifts the shirt up, revealing nothing underneath other than your glistening cunt. “I haven't even done anything, rid'ika, and this pretty pussy's already all wet for me.”

You moan softly when his fingers find your clit, rubbing on it as you shudder in his arms. Din sinks two fingers into your wet heat and he groans when he feels how wet you are. He thumbs on your clit as he keeps pumping in and out of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over his fingers and your inner thighs until you shake beneath him, then he pulls off of you.

“No, cyare please, I'm so close- Ah!” You cry as his fingers leave you, only to moan loudly when he kneels behind you and he slaps your soaked pussy.

“Needy girl,” he teases, slapping your clit again, ignoring your cries. He parts your folds with his tongue until his smart mouth finds your clit and he starts sucking on the sensitive nub. You grip the edge of the table tightly as you grind against his face, smearing your arousal all over his lower face. Din tuts, holding your hips in place, chuckling when he sees your hole clenches around nothing.

“You know what you get for being such a good girl, cyar’ika?” Din asks, his fingers are back on your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerve in a tight circle as you buck violently against his fingers. “Good girl gets to come on my face.”

His lips are back on you, kissing, lapping, and sucking until you're a whimpering mess. You let out a high pitched whine and you come on his mouth, flooding him with your arousal as he keeps on sucking on your lips as you ride your orgasm.

Din grabs your chin towards him and he kisses you hard, his lips are glistening with the mixture of your cum and his spit and you can taste yourself on the tip of his tongue. Din pulls off of you and he turns you around, lifting you up to the edge of the table. He lays you down and he parts your legs with a steady hand on your inner thigh, keeping them apart so he can admire his hard work, your drenched cunt glistening with your sweet come. Din groans then he spits on your cunt, adding to the mess before smearing everything around with the thick head of his cock. He's painfully hard, his foreskin is pulled all the way back, revealing the flared tip, steadily leaking precum all over you. He lines himself up with your entrance and fucks all the way into you in one push. You watch as his thick cock stretches your hole, feeling yourself clinging to his girth, fluttering around him as you struggle to take his size. Both of you moan when he finally buries himself deep inside you, still holding tight to each other.

“Maker, been thinking about this sweet pussy all day.”

Oh, I know. You thought. “Yeah? Did you think about fucking me, ner riduur? Thought about how my pussy clenches around your cock? Did you think about filling me up with your cum until I'm swollen with your adi'ka?” You taunt him, circling your legs on his hips to keep him buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck!” Din swears, hissing while he steadily leaks precum all over your wet heat, leaning his head to yours and rutting deep against your sweet spot. “You're playing with fire, rid'ika. Can't just say things like that.”

“But I want you to,” you beg, moaning wantonly when he starts pumping in and out of you. “Want you to keep fucking me until I'm so full and swollen with your baby.”

Din growls, pounding deep into you with punishing pace. He's watching you, watching your cunt swallowing his cock, watching your face grow slack with pleasure. You slip your hands under the shirt, covering your breast and squeezing them, making your milk leak until there's a wet patch over the shirt.

“Filthy girl,” Din grunts, pawing on the piece of clothing. “Lift it up baby, let me see.”

You lift the shirt up, revealing your breasts for him, shiny from both milk and sweat. Beads of your milk trickling from your nipples, leaking steadily as he fucks into you. He slips one engorged nipple to his mouth, sucking until he can taste you on his tongue while his fingers play with the abandoned one, rubbing and squeezing, spraying him with milk.

“Everything about you is just so sweet, rid'ika, my perfect girl.” He praises. He licks your nipple clean before switching to the other side, pressing open mouthed kisses before bringing the sensitive buds to his mouth and sucking on it, drinking you until he's full while his hand loves on the other one. His cock never stops pounding into you, bringing you closer and closer with each snaps of his hips.

He folds your legs into a mating press, tucking your knees against your chest and his cock is so deep inside you. So deep he reaches your cervix, kissing your womb with his tip. You clench hard around his length, your wall seizes violently around him, milking him irresistibly as he keeps hitting the spot that makes you see stars, begging him to please, never stop. You're wailing as your whole body shakes, tipping your head back and moaning Din's name so loud he has to cover your mouth with his palm, worried the filthy noises of the snap of his balls slapping your ass, your loud moans, and the squelching sound of your wet pussy might wake the sleeping kids up.

With a shaky shudder, you come down from your high, whining as Din keeps fucking you, chasing his own orgasm. After a few brutal thrust, your riduur groans loudly, shouting punched out moans as he peaks. His cock twitches in your soaked, messy cunt, filling you with his hot cum, flooding your insides and claiming you his. He kisses your lips, muffling both your moans, only parting to plant another kiss to your temple while he pumps you full of his cum, murmuring sweet, loving praises and filthy promises to you.

“That's a good girl, rid'ika. Take it, baby, gonna get you all round and pregnant. That's what you want, right? Want to give me another? Want to be bred all over again?”

Din keeps rutting with you until you both shake from overstimulation and he gently pulls out of you. He admires your blissed, fucked out face, trailing soft kisses down your jaw and your neck, sucking his marks all over your body. You tip his jaw up and catch his lips in another kiss, laced with a content smile, before breaking away to whisper sweet I love yous to each other.

Din gathers you in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and lowering you gently into your shared bed. He leaves for the fresher, fetching a damp rag to clean you up before slipping into his side of bed beside you. He pulls you close, kissing your lips lovingly and rearranges the covers, tucking you into his arms.

“You're my dream girl, you know that right?”

“I tried,” you smile contently, caressing the scruff of his jaw softly.

“You don't have to,” Din mutters, humming when you snuggle closer to him, pressing your heartbeat over his. “You're perfect just the way you are.”

You exchange more kisses, lazily making out in bed until sleep takes over, safely nestled in each other's arms.

About a few weeks later, you start to feel the tiniest flutter in the force.

[geekgirles]

Just Look My Way

Can we please talk about the way the lyrics have changed from the original to showcase Stolas' growth and character development?

I was already surprised that what originally looked like it was just going to be a fan video ended up becoming canon content, but when I heard the different lines my mind exploded, you guys.

Note the difference, the major difference, in treatment!

In the original version, which released back in season 1 but before Ozzie's, Stolas' line was actually:

"Come now, my little impish plaything, we've both made our choice."

Keep in mind the original most likely included this line as a reference to what both Striker and Stolas said in regards to Blitzo's relationship with Stolas. Even our dear owl boy referred to him as just a plaything while saving him from D.O.R.K.S! Which most likely only helped cement Blitzo's internalised belief that Stolas would never see him as anything other than a cheap thrill.

Here, however, Stolas is cementing him as his dearest! A loved one! Someone he values and cares for! That is a huge difference from being just a sexual partner!

And the second line. OMG, THE SECOND LINE.

Unlike the original, where Stolas speaks of a choice that, realistically, was never there (as it usually is the case with relationships where there's a power imbalance and, moreover, were born out of transactional needs), this time he is reaffirming Blitzo's agency and independence. The implied choice is clear: Stolas will present the asmodean crystal to him so he no longer relies on his Grimoire and sleeps with him out of necessity. All that's left for Blitzo now will be to choose if he wants to remain by Stolas' side even then. And the choice is his.

As a quick aside, I also love the constant symbolism between Blitzo and the Moon.

Technically, compared to Stolas and the Earth, both are just satellites, nowhere near as important as a Goetia demon and member of Hell Royalty or a planet brimming with life and where beauty and wonder happen at every corner. And yet, without them neither can thrive. Stolas is as fascinated and dependent of Blitzo as the Earth is with the Moon. Without the Moon, there's no tides; it brings inspiration and romance to countless souls, brightening the night sky, just like Blitzo brightens Stolas' life.

Blitzo is Stolas' moon, and I just think that's beautiful.

Every word in this line in particular just oozes character development, too.

The original was:

"What's left for me in this broken house if I cannot have you?"

This is no longer about Stolas using Blitzo to escape his boring routine and his horrible marriage to Stella, it's about Stolas being deeply and hopelessly in love with Blitzo and not knowing what to do to convey that in a way that will reach him.

Once again, Blitzo has stopped being a mere plaything or boy toy and become so much more. He has become an essential part of Stolas' life he doesn't know what he'll do without but knows he'll have to let go of if that's what Blitzo wants!

Now, I must admit I am not exactly a fan of this change in these particular verses. On the one hand, I understand it's meant to reflect Stolas is trying to understand Blitzo and see things from is point of view, but I also feel it robs the moment of the raw feeling the original conveyed:

"Is this how she'd feel? Abandoned, all alone, left to fend for herself, for a semblance of happiness that doesn't have to end?"

"She" clearly referring to Via.

I just think it would have been more powerful to keep it and allow that juxtaposition between the most important people in his life to help Stolas understand Blitzo better. After all, he loves them both dearly and unconditionally, but his actions have also hurt them both very deeply.

I just think it'd be fitting if one allowed him to understand the other better.

Nevertheless, if there is something this song has taught me, is this: we are so not ready for the next episode.

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 21 || The After Hours

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, a tinge of angst, and sexual tension.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.1k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——"I DON'T UNDERSTAND," YOU murmured to the albino man whose arms you're comfortably carried in.

What the hell does he mean by when you call he comes running? You didn't call him... right? Wait, fuck, you don't even remember. Was it really Geto's voice you heard over the phone?

Gojo slowly walks with you in his grasp toward his car, "You called me... Well, I know you probably meant to call Suguru but uh, you called me, sweetheart." He explains.

A pouty expression takes over your features as you grumble out a response to him, "Why didn't you... s-say anything, asshole."

He shrugs, "Cause' Suguru's asleep and I didn't want his half-woken brain to come out here and get you, who's completely wasted. So, it's a good thing you accidentally called me anyway. Plus, I missed-," He stops as he looks at your face.

Your eyes closed and you'd fallen asleep again. Gojo opens his mouth to finish what he is saying but instead sighs and focuses his gaze on where he's walking.

Carefully, the male works his passenger car door open and places you inside. Gojo is overly cautious while he seats you comfortably. Your head had leaned into a visibly unbearable position and he had to be light with his touches to fix you properly.

The pads of his fingers are soft against your face and he's gentle with the way he handles your head. When he's done making sure you don't look uncomfortable and finishes buckling you in, his eyes pause on your pretty resting features.

Even though the beauty Gojo sees in your face, he can't help but notice the dried tear streaks running down your cheeks. He wonders when you cried and why. Was it because of him? Again? The thought alone makes his heart ache.

Gojo shuts his eyes and leans his forehead to yours, resting against you lightly, "I'm sorry..." He whispers to you, despite the fact that you're asleep.

After another second, Gojo removes himself from your space and shuts his car door softly. He then makes it into the driver's seat and he's quick to start his car and drive off.

The ride is slow and Gojo tries to make it as smooth as possible so that he doesn't wake you up. There were a few times when you moved and let out a little groan, each time prompting a concerned gaze from the man in the diver's seat.

Each minute that passes, Gojo spends it thinking about what you told him over the phone. He hates to see you struggling like this, wishing he could go back and maybe do something different but knowing the outcome would've been bad either way.

By the time he gets to your apartment, it's even later into the night and Gojo spends the entire time with you being as careful as possible. He knows you didn't want to see him but he needed to make sure you got home safely.

So, the man carried you all the way to your apartment door and even let himself inside. You found this out a while ago when you went through your messages but apparently, Shoko gave Gojo a spare key to the apartment.

You thought it was weird of your roommate to do so without talking to you about it but she eventually explained to you that she's asked Gojo to go to your apartment more times than she can count and it was frustrating giving him her keys every time.

That, and she secretly felt like him having access to the apartment would help the two of you get together. Of course, Shoko is still ignorant of what's going on between you and Gojo but neither of you has plans on changing that.

After all, her giving him spare keys is beneficial to you in a situation like this.

Gojo moves into your apartment with you in his arms, his footsteps quiet. When he entered, everything was dark and he noticed Shoko's room door was closed. He figured she was asleep since the space beneath her room door showed no signs of lighting and plus, it was pretty late.

You shift around in Gojo's arms while he carries you into your room. The male carefully placed you down on your bed and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable in your sleep but was nervous to do so.

Gojo drags his gaze up and down the obvious discomfort the dress you're wearing brings you and he so desperately wants to change you. With a sigh, he glances around your room, searching for a t-shirt he can toss over you but spotting none.

The man knows you probably won't like it but, he stands up and strips his upper half, removing the white sweater he was wearing and moving to put it onto your body, leaving him in a simple t-shirt he had underneath.

The sweater went over your dress after which, Gojo felt around your back, careful not to touch you directly, and unzipped your dress. He didn't want to lay eyes on your body while you were asleep so, the male worked your dress off you and down your legs with his sweater blocking his eyesight from seeing anything.

On you, his sweater went down to the beginning of your thighs, looking like a dress in itself on your smaller frame. Gojo had long since worked your heels off, having neatly placed them somewhere in your room and now he was trying to tuck you into your bed.

After that, he left your room for only a moment to grab medicine for the painful hangover he knows you're going to have when you wake up. Returning to you swiftly, he puts all the necessary items on your nightstand and sighs.

Soft snores left you, prompting his eyes to fall on your face for the millionth time that night. Gojo tilts his head as he looks at your face, taking in all of your features. He missed having the mere luxury of just looking at you.

You're so beautiful in his eyes that just staring at you makes him loathe himself for the terrible shit he's putting you through.

When the long moment of appreciation comes to an end, Gojo caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand as if to say bye, before leaning up and turning away.

What he doesn't expect is for a delicate set of fingers to wrap around his wrist and stop him from going anywhere. Before he can even turn around to look at you, you whisper out a sleepy and still drunken, "S-Stay."

All it takes is that one word of yours for the male to stop every movement. Hell, he thinks he stops breathing for a second. Turning his face around to look at you, he spots your eyes just barely open and your hand holding him.

Gojo swallows, "Sweets, as much as I want to... you don't really-"

"Satoru," You whisper.

The way you say his name so suddenly after not referring to him as such for what felt like an eternity makes his heart throb violently in his chest. Gojo's whole facial expression weakens, his body and mind completely incapacitated under the sound of your voice and the feeling of your touch.

Your eyes flick up to him and he can tell that you're clearly drunk.

"Y-Yes?" Gojo whispers back.

"Stay." You command.

He feels so utterly helpless under your gaze. What is he supposed to say when you look at him so longingly? Holding onto his wrist in a way that makes him feel like if he leaves, he'll only leave you sadder.

He glances off to the side, "You're just gonna be upset when you sober up. I can't-"

"Toru please." You murmur, suddenly frowning, "I... d-don't wanna be alone."

Gojo's eyes shut and he grits his teeth, "Fucking hell... O-Okay, fuck, fine w-whatever you want." He stammers out, physically unable to deny your requests. "Just... don't curse me out when you're sober, please."

You let his wrist go and smiled cheekily, "No promisessss."

Gojo walks around to the other side of your bed and slowly lays down beside you. Even drunk, you could tell he was nervous doing so-- he already knew what was going to happen when your drunken state faded away. At first, the man lays down as far as possible, making you flip your body around to face him.

He clears his throat, "Is this okay?"

The guy was on the other side of your bed, clearly trying to keep his distance. You giggle, "No, stupid... Come hold me," You whisper.

"H-Hold you?" Gojo chokes out.

You sigh heavily, "At least until-," You yawn, "...I fall back asleep. T-Then you can leave, if you want."

With a slight nod, Gojo just barely slides closer to you. One of his large arms goes over your side and you immediately reciprocate, making his heart skip a beat at the way your small hand is felt on his back. The two of you were basically hugging each other and the state of his heart worsens as you snuggle in closer to him.

"C'mon, this is unfair..." Gojo sighs heavily.

You continue hugging him anyway, comforting your head into his chest. "I know," You whisper in response.

The two of you then get quiet for a while. Your breathing gets softer and softer against his chest and every brush of air against his skin makes it harder for him to calm his rapidly beating heart. It's been so long since you'd been close to him like this that he doesn't know how to handle it.

Gojo feels almost dizzy by your warm body against his. It's not turning him on or anything but his heart feels so odd in his chest.

Suddenly, your head shifts and you look up a him, "Gojo..." You whisper.

And he misses the way you say his first name already, "Hm?"

"You're so cruel to me." You babble out. Not only was your intoxication beginning to take over your mind, but fatigue was weighing in on you as well.

He sighs shakily, "Am I?"

"Very..." You start pouting, "He made me really happy, y'know..."

Gojo blinks in confusion.

"Choso," You clarify. Gloss begins to lay over your eyes and you quickly grow saddened, "...He won't even talk to me now."

"Did you... tell him about the list or something?"

"No, idiot." You fire back. "He wanted to date me but... I o-obviously couldn't say yes because of you."

Guilt thrums throughout Gojo's body, "I'm sorry." He apologizes sincerely.

You sigh heavily, "Y'know... if you were really sorry, you'd delete that video of me and let me go..."

"I can't." Gojo replies, squeezing his eyes shut, "I really can't."

"Why?" You question, scoffing slightly, "After all this time, can you at least tell me why it has to be me?"

He silences himself in thought. There are so many ways he could go about answering such a question but the possibilities of how you may react are endless. Plus, you're drunk and if he's going to admit or explain anything to you, it'll be while you're sober.

"Because..." Gojo's voice gets so quiet that you almost don't catch what he says, "...I don't have any other choice."

What does he mean by that? You have no idea. It's just another one of Gojo's stupid explanations that make no sense whatsoever, leading you to only be annoyed with him for the nth time since you've known him. You're negative emotions for this male run deeper than anything else.

Even so, there's this underlying emotion you feel when he talks to you or looks at you. And you absolutely despise the way it affects you because the man simply plagues your heart, vexing you with his toxic and fucked up realities of how he wants things to go.

You find yourself lulled into it all nonetheless. Whether it be by choice or not, something about Gojo just draws you to him in so many ways.

You hate the way he looks at you as if your very existence is what he still breathes for. The way he talks to you like each second without your presence is steadily crushing his will to live. How he holds you so gently yet firmly as if he dreads the instant he has to let you go.

And more than anything, you hate the combination of all that being tied to his stupidly handsome face that makes you nervous at every second, even though you try to hide it. Then there are the memories of the very few good times you spent with him.

Somewhere deep, deep, deep down inside-- you'd give anything to go back to that morning you woke up in his arms.

Gojo Satoru may be no Kamo Choso but even so, both men hold some deep and special, whether it be good or bad, place in your heart.

You shake your head in disbelief, "...I hate you."

Gojo swallows down your words, "That uh... That makes four."

"What?" You scoff confusedly.

"That's the fourth time you've said those words to me-- the fourth time you've claimed to hate me." Gojo points out, his voice so clearly sorrowful, "I wish you didn't..."

Your brows bush together, "...Wish I didn't say it or...?"

"No, I wish you didn't have to hate me." He says, shutting his eyes again and sucking in a deep breath, "B-But... it's uh, It's okay. I can live with you hating me."

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off unintentionally by continuing.

"It's odd though," Gojo whispers, his fingers toying with the back of the sweater you're wearing. "Why would you want to be in my arms if you hate me so much?"

You groan, "Cause'...." The reasoning takes a second to come out, almost as if you didn't want to admit such a thing out loud, "I don't... I don't wanna be alone." You murmur, your voice wavering a little before your grasp on him grows tighter.

Gojo's heart is pounding so ridiculously hard against his chest when he feels you cling to him so desperately. It took control of every muscle and vein in his body not to squeeze you back just as hard to let you know that he'd never leave unless you told him to.

A soft, heart-wrenching little chuckle leaves his lips, "Me neither, sweetheart."

For a second time, silence wraps around the two of you. The only noise in the air now was the sound of you both breathing faintly. You don't know why but, even though you hate him, you couldn't deny the deep sense of comfort and understanding you felt within his arms.

Your heart was heavy in your chest, feelings for Choso having a dangerous steel grip on you. If you were to complete this list; you needed to put your feelings for that man aside. Only temporarily though. By all means, no matter what it took, you'd be running back to Choso the very second you were freed to do so.

Unconsciousness creeps up on you and unexpectedly wraps your mind up in a warm little blanket, swaying you into relaxation and tugging you into a state of slumber. Meanwhile, Gojo lay awake, unable to fall asleep with the ounces of guilt, regret, and disappointment in himself that cascaded over him.

Though it took a while, he waited until it seemed like you were asleep and then tried to ease his way out. Sadly, through your sleep, you only clung onto his body more-- silently begging him not to go anywhere.

With a sigh, he ends up staying.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

A few hours later, you wake up because of a pounding headache. It was still dark and your eyes just barely opened to gather your surroundings. Finally, you were sober.

Your mind was all groggy and you couldn't remember much after Gojo came and picked you up. It was in fragments and pieces that you recalled talking to him in your sleep and begging him to stay with you.

Yet, when you woke up and opened your eyes, you were met with the dim sight of your bedroom door closed and no feeling of warmth or body heat around you. It annoyed you that Gojo left even though you told him to stay.

Being alone was the one thing you wanted to avoid.

Even hours after your intoxication had worn off, the worst part about it was that as you propped your side up using your elbow and reached for the meds on your nightstand, a wave of arousal abruptly coursed through you. Perhaps it was because of your interactions with Naoya's piss-poor skills at pleasing you-- having left you unsatisfied all this time.

While you swallowed down a pill to kill your headache, you planned on possibly going to lock your door and just rub it out. You hate waking up horny like this and the headache doesn't help either. If only Naoya had known how to use his dick properly, you would've been fine right now.

With a sigh, you move to sit up and suddenly spot a large build lying on the other side of your bed. You almost let out a yelp in surprise until you realized that it was Gojo and that the man never left you.

Your head tips to the side while you eye his resting frame. His back is to you and you figure the male moved away from you so that you wouldn't curse him out first thing in the morning. You groan slightly at the recollection of you telling him to stay.

The sound of your light groan is enough to stir the man awake. He begins to turn around and your heart jumps for some reason when you meet eyes with him.

Gojo rubs his eyelids slightly, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. "Well... aren't you a sight for sore eyes..." He hums, his deep morning voice only worsening that arousal of yours.

You swallow, "Don't start."

"Mmmmgh.." He hums tiredly, the sound vibrating against his throat and weirdly making your state worse. He then sighs and shuts his eyes, "Don't start what, sweetheart?"

Gojo's voice is way too damn sexy for you to have a proper conversation and, of course, the damn pet name never helps.

You ignore his question, "You need to leave."

"Make me," Gojo says playfully. You frown and his eyes suddenly open, "Come over here 'nd force me out." He murmurs, voice still low but clearly playful.

You roll your eyes at the male, "I'm not joking."

He smirks seductively, the sight unintentionally attractive to you, "Don't roll your eyes at me."

"Why not?" You scoff sassily.

"Haven't done anythin' to make 'em roll, that's why," Gojo replies, the suggestiveness of his words feeding your hormones.

You push the blanket down and away from your legs, revealing your warm skin to the comforting air of your room. "You plan on doing something to make em' roll?" You reply.

Gojo's body stills in reaction to your words. His eyes close again and you watch him bite his bottom lip, "Want me to?"

You shouldn't. At all. You absolutely should not be needy for Gojo of all people.

You decide not to answer him and simply let out a yawn. He chuckles, the sound foolishly sexy. God, everything about this man is turning you on right now and you absolutely hate it.

"I can't stand you," You end up saying.

"Come sit on me then." Gojo fires back.

A throb is felt in between your legs and you grit your teeth. You didn't like the way he challenged you, almost as if you wouldn't really do so. It was one hundred percent because of your hormones that move, shifting to hold yourself up on your knees and shuffling over to the man.

Gojo's eyes shoot open and he chokes as you actually toss one leg over his and straddle him. His hands scramble a bit to lift himself up but you put your palm to his chest and push him right back down aggressively.

"Don't move now, you're the one who told me to come sit on you." You utter in a sultry tone.

He swallows as he stares up at you, never expecting you to be so bold. "Fuuck... it's too early for this y'know... Fuckin' sun isn't even up yet," He groans, his voice deeper than ever.

You lean forward, causing your crotch to rub over his, "Too early for what?"

"For you to be gettin' on top of me like this," Gojo sighs almost panicked, "I know I told you to but-," You wiggle into him a bit to comfort yourself, "F-Fuck, I didn't think you'd actually..."

Your torso tips forward and you press your fingertips into his chest, "Actually get on top of you?" You finish Gojo's statement questionably.

He nods, "Yeah."

The ache in between your legs is slowly becoming unbearable so, you roll your hips forward, your clothed cunt dragging against Gojo's cock and making his brows furrow and his jaw drop slightly.

"H-Hah, woah, w-wait, what're you doing?" Gojo questions. Those large hands of his go to your thighs and he squeezes your skin slightly.

You tilt your head innocently, "Trying to finish what that asshole Naoya left of me last nigh..." Your voice tails a bit as your roll your hips back and feel Gojo gently hump himself up into you, "Hah, n-night..." You manage out breathly.

Gojo smirks but his breathing is now heavy. He remembers you telling him that you had bad sex with Naoya but you never told him what exactly you meant by that. "What he left of-," He swallows hard, "You?"

Your head nods, "Mhm. Fucker didn't even make me cum," You explain, pouting frustratedly as you recall.

The male below you blinks, "What?"

"He didn't make me cum," You repeat while slowly grinding over the steady rise of Gojo's cock. There's almost nothing more stimulating than feeling as a male grows hard beneath you.

It's so warm and hard how his dick springs to life within the confines of his boxers. All because of a little bit of dry humping.

"You want me to make up for him?" Gojo's quick to offer.

You smile lustfully and drag your hips in a slow circle over his erection, "No... I can uh, shit... can get of jus' fine like this..." You tell him.

A wet spot forms on the male's boxers as precum seeps out the tip of his cock at the thought of watching you get yourself off by dry humping.

Gojo slips his hands up and under the sweater you're wearing, his grasp going to your hips and guiding you through your movements. "You sure?" He breathes out, "You and I both know I can satisfy you just fine."

You chuckle and then catch him off guard by grabbing his hands and prying them away from your body. Gojo's eyes widen when you pin his hands up above his head, your gaze meeting his while you continue grinding on him.

"I know you can but..." You tilt your head tauntingly, "You haven't earned that kinda thing back."

"W-What?" He stammers, his face flushing as your fingers squeeze around his wrists.

The way you're looking at him alone is enough to drive him over the edge but he manages to control himself. Your voice lowers, "You haven't earned the right to fuck me Gojo." Your words make him blink in disbelief, "Not after all the shit you put me through."

"But..."

"There is no but." You say, leaning down to him and tipping your head down to his neck. Carefully, you press your lips into him, "Right now, the only thing you've earned is the pleasure of being used by me."

Your words go straight to his cock and Gojo gulps. Is he hearing you correctly right now? Did you just say you were going to use his body for your pleasure? Is he even okay with that?? Of course he is. Gojo physically couldn't say no to such a thing.

Your lips push into the skin right under his jaw and Gojo groans lowly. Your cunt flutters around nothing at the sound and you grin. Lifting yourself, you move to hover your face over his, peering down into his eyes.

"S'that okay?" You whisper, "Can I do that?"

"I-I..." Gojo is at a complete loss for words right now.

You inch closer to him and your lips graze his own, "Can I use you, Gojo?"

He swore he almost came at the imagination of you doing so.

Everything you said was exactly what you wanted too. You really didn't believe that Gojo deserved to have sex with you without some form of punishment due to all the things he's putting you through. Hell, the only reason you're about to do anything with him is because of how horny you woke up.

Or at least, that's what you're going to blame it on anyway.

"Of course you can, sweets." Gojo utters, his eyes low, "I'm all yours, every part of me, it's all yours." He breathes out.

You smile at his words, "Yeah?"

"M-Mhm... You wanna selfishly use me to make yourself feel good," He shrugs, "By all means." Gojo encourages you, "Please do actually. I told you I'd make things up to you right?"

You almost forgot about that but, he's right. He did promise such a thing so, you nod in response.

"Consider this a part of it," The male explains, "I'm nothing more than a tool for you."

You smile at his words, butterflies fluttering through your stomach in reaction. You wondered if he was only speaking like this in terms of sex or if he meant in general but, based on the needy look in his eyes and the redness of his cheeks, he meant it in every aspect.

Slowly, your eyes shut and you press your lips into his for the first time in what feels like forever. The immediate whine that leaves Gojo is so utterly pathetic and desperate, the fact that you're still pinning his hands down acts as torture for the male.

Given that his favorite thing to do is touch you, to be deprived of that during sex is about to be one of the most difficult things he's ever experienced. But, for you; Gojo would do anything to fix everything he's broken between the two of you.

Your lips part over his and he's eager to accept your tongue sliding into his mouth, his hands simply twitching to feel your body as the two of you make out. It's slow and sloppy, wet tongues slipping over one another while soft and quiet moist sounds of your kissing fill the air.

It ends up being you that folds to the urge to touch and feel him, sliding your hands down from his writs, along his muscular arms, to his shoulders, and then to his neck and face-- growing more aggressive with your kissing and feelings his smooth skin beneath your fingers.

Gojo kept his arms up in place as you lifted from his mouth, quickly whispering his desires to you, "Can I touch you?" He hushes out before you kiss him again.

Feeling ignored, Gojo is struggling to control himself. Nothing is stopping him from moving his hands to your waist and flipping the two of you over, quickly grinding into that warm cunt of yours and pleasing you like he knows you deserve. Yet, he remains still anyway.

You tug on his lower lip for a moment before releasing it, "You wanna touch me?"

"Please," He begs, "A-At least while you're kissing me..."

"Alright," You agree, "But when I tell you to take your hands off me, you better."

Gojo nods understandingly and obediently, quickly flying his hands down to your waist and gripping onto you as your lips connect again. The kiss only grows sloppier, your lips sliding over his and his tongue working its way up into your mouth, leading you to hum against him.

Deep down inside, you can't lie... you did miss making out with Gojo. Nobody kisses you like he does. This man kisses you as if it's his dying act.

His hands go down to your hips and he pushes himself up a bit while pulling you down onto his crotch again. Through your messy kissing, Gojo starts moving with you to sit himself up with you in his lap, your lips hardly ever disconnecting from one another.

Now that you're both sat up, it makes kissing each other and dry humping at the same time a whole lot more comfortable and easy.

Through the softness of your lips, Gojo's able to whisper a thing out to you every now and then, "F-Fuck... I missed you s'much..." He mumbles into you.

His arms wrap around your waist while yours go around his neck, both of you hungrily making out with each other.

When you pull away for a second to breathe, you respond. "Did you?" You murmur.

Gojo nods eagerly, "You know I did."

You smile slightly as you kiss him again. Both of you just barely conversate in between pecks, "...Prove it," You utter.

The sound of his lips smacking over yours is heard, "O-Okay... I will, however-, mh... however you want." He speaks between your constant pecks and gentle sucks over his lower lip, "T-Told you... I'm all yours."

You finally pry away from his mouth completely, a string of saliva left between your lips and his. "Alright then... can I..." You bite your lower lip for a moment, trying to debate if you really want to go through with the idea in your head.

Gojo looks absolutely dazed right now from all your kissing-- having almost blown his load in his pants from making out with you. His cheeks are completely red, his lips parted with heavy pants leaving him, and his eyes low as they look at you.

"Yes," Gojo blurts out, "Whatever it is, you can do it to me." He agrees.

The man appears as though he was fucked out and all you've done is swap spit with him.

You stare at him innocently before giving him one last peck and then moving to his ear, "Can I tie you up?"

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[restinslices]

If Aegon ii Targaryen Was A Sub

I forgot I said I was gonna post this weeks ago so here it is. Also before we begin, I feel like I gotta say that I DO NOT condone some of the shit he did in the show. This is not that type of party. I just think he has pathetic looking eyes and I’m known to make men subs. Let’s all just be horny in peace Obviously MDNI

A very needy whiny whore 

Needs attention and validation constantly 

Will actually start buggin’ if you're giving someone else attention 

And when I say “needy” I really mean that shit 

He's constantly tryna convince you to sneak away with him for a quickie. And if you're alone together? He definitely wants to fuck 

He's extremely needy and badly wants approval and appreciation but he's also such a fucking brat 

This man is a spoiled ass Prince. Are we surprised?

He's bratty in the sense that he likes pushing buttons but also in the sense that he just sometimes doesn't feel like listening to you 

Behavior that you'll have to make sure to correct 

Now when I mention anal you may wanna say “oh but I have female anatomy”. To that, I say “pegging”

Now you may wanna say “strapons don't exist in this universe” and to that I say “they have literal DRAGONS. Use your imagination and pretend they've been invented”

Now let's continue 

Idk why I feel this way but I can see him enjoying sex from behind. Especially while getting his hair pulled

Also has a thing for titty sucking 

Sucks on you while you ride him 

Or if he's bored 

Kinks and/or fetishes I can see him having are anal, barebacking, biting, breath play, dacryphilia, face fucking, free use, fingering (possibly fisting too), impact play, loud sex, name calling (whatever you wanna go by), orgasm control, orgies, praise, rough sex, and probably some other shit 

I just feel like he can easily be talked into anything. As long as he's getting pleased 

Enjoys the risk of possibly getting caught 

Turns him on even more if he's the one getting fucked 

Possibly getting caught fucking you is one thing but possibly getting caught getting treated like a whore? He'll cum from the thought alone 

Loves being told how slutty he looks

If you can fill his ass with cum, do it! 

Also enjoys being eaten out

He'll reach around to grab your hair and push his ass against you so your tongue goes deeper 

I can see him having a bit of toxic masculinity so you calling his ass a “pussy” or “cunt” will irritate him 

But in the same breath it makes him extremely hard 

His eyes are expressive so it's easy to tell when he's horny 

I don't see him denying it either 

Despises dry humping so it's a good punishment 

He's just way too impatient for it 

Other punishments for him could be orgasm denial, edging or refusing to touch him at all. Not just sexually. Like, refusing to kiss him 

Or telling him he can't pleasure himself could be a punishment 

Cock warming probably isn't his favorite either. Like I said, he's impatient. He immediately wants to fuck 

Has a fantasy of being fucked at a pleasure house while other people watch 

Also has a fantasy of having his mouth full of cum and it leaking out while he's being fucked 

Someone remind me to write these out 

I know I've said a bath for aftercare with other characters but like,,, who doesn't love a good bath?

Quick afterthoughts

He's definitely vocal. I just don't see him being quiet 

Doesn't mind getting woken up with sex

Cannot fully express how much he loves dirty talk

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Season 2: I

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: In the spirit of Christmas hehe

Masterlist, Prologue

He didn’t believe that you were gone no matter what anyone said.

Everyone was saying the same thing. You were gone and there was nothing anyone could do to bring you back. However, Min Yoongi didn’t like their answer and anyone who said that you had already passed on from this earth was met with his wrath that was communicated through his fists and weapons. No one could even tell him that he now couldn’t physically follow where you were. In his twisted mind, he thought that he could follow you because you never left this earth. Of course, he could follow. You did promise, after all, that you would never go somewhere where he couldn’t fucking follow. His angel would never lie to him, he thought. But your absence was saying otherwise. Your absence was too loud.

The days following the moment he opened his eyes and learned of your demise were bloody and dark. Everyone was on edge, and the traitors went to hell here on earth. They did wish they had died instead, but death was never quick when it came to them, nor was it painless. Min Yoongi made sure that they felt every ounce of pain he felt when you were taken away from him. His brothers could not even reason with the man. They didn’t know how to handle this Min Yoongi. It was as though he died there with you, and what was left of him was only his darkness. Agustd was already ruthless, but now he was just outright cruel, burning everything and everyone that crossed his path.

No one could even say their piece to him-well, all except Kim Seokjin. Despite Jin choosing the less violent life and despite him spending his days treating people in the hospital, no one could deny the power he naturally excluded. It was the power that was inherent to him when he was unfortunate enough to be born to a father that was the previous mafia king. Kim Seokjin may possessed the face of an angel, but he was the most dangerous of them all. It was just that he had a patience of a saint, and everyone fret the day someone snapped his patience. He was a dangerous, eccentric man. And he was a ticking time bomb in comparison to Taehyung who just kept on exploding without an end in sight. Min Yoongi, though, was known to be a reasonable man, his calm nature was never broken. It took losing you to break the calmness in him. The days after he woke up, he was seen back where he was the happiest. Day after day, Yoongi could be found there, leaning against the tree with cigarette in between his lips as he looked at the ruins of your house. The fire took everything from him. It was angry as it smoldered what once was his latibule to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. Yoongi thought that the world was simply too cruel to him to strip away the only place he had of you. He couldn’t even smell you anymore, couldn’t even go to the place that was full of your presence.

How cruel was it to have you once and never again? How cruel was it for him to finally have found the warmth, to finally have basked in it for a moment too short, only for him to live in a winter forever after you? He would never admit to anyone that each time he closed his eyes, the only thing he saw was the moment you fell as the bullet pierced your skin. So, he had not been sleeping well. If you were here, he thought, you would chase away all the demons in his head. If you were here, you would put your arms around him, rub your hands on his shoulder in a soothing way only you knew how, and you would silently tell him that everything would be okay, that he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. Yoongi couldn’t do anything. All he did was to go to the place where he found and lost you.

He was always there, Jimin noted. He made this place your temple, mural and shrine. However, never once did he visit where you were finally laid to rest. Never once did he even acknowledge your death. It was like not seeing it would make your death untrue. And so, day after day, hour after hour, the man could be found there as though he was waiting on a miracle, as though if he waited long enough then you would return, as though if he stayed long enough, you would walk back and smile at him, all while calling him a fool for looking too sad.

But you never did.  

And after a whole year, Min Yoongi never uttered your name again.

---

“Y-you’re supposed to be the good one! W-what is the Chief of Police doing here?!”

Yoongi watched in boredom as Jungkook pushed a man to kneel in front of him. The warehouse was quiet, well, save for the screaming of the traitors. The other brothers were busy with torturing the remaining traitors they kept alive. And today, he was faced with the last remaining traitor they had yet to kill. See, this asshole was so below the rank that he didn’t know that the Chief of Police was also the same Agustd, the leader of the mafia.

He was nothing, Yoongi thought. And yet, he was the one who blew up your house. He could almost laugh if he still knew how.  “T-the public will know! I’ll tell them that you’re the d-devil!”

Yoongi blew the smoke on his face emotionlessly, a strand of his dark hair falling on his face. “You’re not an intelligent man, are you?” he asked evenly before pulling the cigarette in between his lips and onto the idiot’s eyelid. He heeded his screams no mind as he removed his jacket with his badge on it. Someone from his right stepped in to carefully fold his jacket. Yoongi folded his sleeves to his elbows and without any warning, punched the man on his face.

The man proved to be an even greater fool as he laughed in false bravado, blood a stark contrast against his crooked teeth, “Is that all you can do? You don’t have it in you to kill. You’re a civil servant!”

“Is that so?” he asked in a conversational tone as he picked up a knife, putting it up over the light to inspect it before turning to the buffoon. “Which hand burned the house?”

“What?”

Yoongi looked at Jungkook and the latter manhandled the man near the table, flatting both his hand on it. “Which hand should I cut?” He walked nearer to them as though he had all the time in the world. “This one,” he stabbed the table, missing the man’s hand by a centimeter. “Or this one?” he repeated the action for the right hand, except that this time he intentionally stabbed the knife through his thumb, severely cutting it. “Oh no,” he said in a deadpanned voice before looking directly at him. “Guess my aim got bad.”

“W-who are y-you?!”

He smiled at him; his eyes remained emotionless. “Hi, I’m Agustd. Nice to meet you. So which hand?”

“N-No! No, please! I’ll give you what you want-“

Yoongi sighed, already losing his patience. “You do have to choose. We won’t stop until you only have one hand. Or do you want me to choose?”

“L-lef-“

Before the traitor could even finish sputtering what Yoongi deemed was bullshit, he buried the hilt of the knife into his hand. He didn’t even blink when he felt resistance from his bones, Yoongi merely kept on pushing, uncaring of the wailing man. He never stopped until he the knife finally touched the surface of the table.

And after that, he stabbed his hand again. He never ceased, not until the hand was completely mutilated. He never stopped, not even when the blood kept sputtering on his face from the man’s open wound, a stark contrast on his pale white complexion. He never stopped even when the man lost consciousness.

“He’s going to die, Yoongi,” Seokjin noted lightly from his seat. From outside looking in, he looked like a perfect image of peace, yet the hold he had on his phone was a telltale sign that he was far from pleased. He was not even phased by the violence around him, his focus merely on the whereabouts of his runaway sunshine. “I do not have the patience required to revive a dying man tonight.”

Yoongi paused, leering at the man who was slipping in and out of consciousness, before heeding his hyung’s statement. He did not want to test Jin’s patience tonight when it was apparent that he was barely holding on to his control.

He didn’t want to kill this man tonight. No. He planned on keeping him alive for years and years to come. He planned to give him hope, only for him to squash it away like he did his. As long as Yoongi shall live, then he shall suffer with him. As long as he was living in this fucked-up nightmare where you weren’t by his side, then so should he lived his very own crafted nightmare.

If he wasn’t happy, then why should anyone be?

---

“That phone looks like it wants to rest,” Jimin observed lightly as he and his hyung visited another crime scene that was definitely not because of them. It was three hours away from Seoul, the travel time giving him headache, similar to what Jimin was giving him. He watched as Yoongi ended the call before glaring at him.

“What about my phone, Jimin?”

“It looks like it wants to retire. Please, for the love of all that’s good, let me buy you a phone.”

“No.” It was the only thing he had of you.

“Whyyyyy do you love that phone so much, hyung? Our enemies would think our business is not doing good that you cannot even buy yourself a phone!”

Yoongi just shrugged his broad shoulders before walking out of the police line and through the busy market. He nodded at the policemen as they acknowledged him. His watchful eyes observed the chipper attitude of the marketgoers, chatting among themselves. He wondered how people could wake up this early and yet looked so alive. He hadn’t felt alive since that night. However, he thought that had you been here, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would. He would wake up at an ungodly hour for you.

He could hear Jimin chatter beside him as they navigated their way out of the busy street when it happened. Until it all turned into a white noise when it happened.

When he saw you.

He halted his brisk walk, his eyes following as you walked away yet again from him.

 For a brief moment, he believed your eyes met. For a brief moment, he felt his heart beat again. Yet, your eyes seemed to hold no recognition for him as it only passed through him. You didn’t even stop. It was as though he was merely a stranger.

On the other hand, he thought that you looked different, but he knew in his dead heart that it was you.

Or was it his mind finally crumbling on him, reveling on his insanity?

He blinked once and you were gone.

Jimin, suffice to say, was shocked as his hyung ran back. He never saw him moved that fast, uncaring of the people who he would runover from his haste. His dark coat trailed behind him as he moved, a touch of desperation evident, compelling Jimin to reluctantly trail after him. Yoongi forcefully cleared a path, parting the crowd with determined strides. His singular focus was on reaching you, leaving his mind devoid of any other thoughts.

It was you, he was sure. It was his angel.

He was almost sure.

But when he reached where he saw you last, you weren’t there.

Jimin was breathless when he finally reached his hyung who was looking around the crowd like a lost child. His hands were on his waist as his desperate eyes searched for…who, exactly?

“What happened, hyu-“

“It was her, Jimin-ah. I saw her.”

He blinked, following his hyung’s shifting gaze. “Who?”

“My angel. She’s alive."

Latibule 2.II