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#please let this post age badly
wuwubean · 4 months
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oh btw how are we doing silksong fans? great day to be a silksong fan, am i right? i mean look at the subreddit! we’re all completely normal! everything is a-okay over here! /s
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crisis averted, i guess.
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arkos404 · 2 years
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inside job is so brave for having the wet cat & golden retriever protagonists relationship be just platonic
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charlitosalcaraz · 1 year
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people died
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druidic-focus · 3 months
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moodboard for when you have to look up ‘hymenectomy’
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thewhizzyhead · 2 years
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ann takamaki you are my new and absolute beloved i'm so sorry i called you persona junko enoshima at the start of the game
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sukirichi · 18 days
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VIRGIN KILLER TRIO !! & their habits
→ oliver aiku + karasu tabito + otoya eita
→ nsfw. smut. wrote this impulsively on my notes because karasu has me feeling things. aged up characters. toxic men. fingering. oral (f receiving) otoya is a cheater (canon but i love him) unedited. size kink kind offf. aiku hits it and quits it.
+ I NEED AIKU SO BAD. i also hc that karasu is a manwhore but he would teeat you so well <3
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it’s hard not to catch sight of the virgin killer trio in every afterparty. there’s oliver — the smooth talker who can never remember a girl’s name, karasu — who reads your every move and can tell from across the room how badly you want him, and otoya — the quietest of them all. but don’t let his demeanor fool you. rumors have it that he’s as great in bed as he is at breaking hearts.
pick your poison, they said. don’t let the night go to waste, they said.
but all is easier said than done when oliver has forgotten his cold beer on the counter as he presses you against it during a party. he calls you names that are outright dirty and should not have made you this wet. he smells like smoke and liquor — like danger, like everything you should avoid. you know he won’t remember you the next morning and you’ll most likely wake up in an empty bed. no notes, no small gift left behind. it would be hard to tell he was ever there if it were not for the ache between your thighs and the bite marks he’d left all over your skin.
oliver fucks like the way he wins — luring his opponent and trapping them against him until you give in and submit. what’s the point of fighting anyway? you know it’s futile. you should just let him do as he pleases — to hammer into you from behind, his large hands squeezing your hips in a vice-tight grip. oh no, he’s not letting you go. he’ll keep you there until your thighs quiver and your head drops down to the pillow, the sheets drenched with sex and sweat. he’ll keep you there until his legs are tangled with yours, your tongue lolled out as he fucks out the most delicious moans from you.
oliver aiku is dirty, intoxicating, and when he leaves his mark on you, he only has one goal in purpose — to ruin you for any other man who comes next.
karasu is different. he’s sweeter, more tender with his words and gestures. he doesn’t seduce you right away. no, he likes to watch his prey first from across the room, letting his gaze wander to your pretty face and picturing if you’d look better when you’re finally coming around his cock. when he makes himself known, it’s too late. he’ll know everything about you already, just like how he knows he’ll have you putty in his hands by the end of the night. the only thing left is to prove his theories right — don’t even try to think you can hide your weaknesses from him. he can read you like an open book. he can tell from the hungry way your eyes roam over him that you’d take it like a good girl, and your eyes would roll back when he slides himself in deep.
unlike aiku, karasu doesn’t cage you under his arms and suffocates you. this isn’t a battle for him, because battles mean there’s equal chances of winning, and there’s none of that in the bedroom. karasu knows he’s stronger and has the upper hand. he knows you’re entirely at his mercy when he pins your hands above your head, his long fingers locked around your wrist. and oh, he’s sweeter, so much sweeter. he calls you beautiful and gorgeous. he worships you and leaves kisses on your body, murmuring sweet nothings like a mantra against your skin. he isn’t rough, but he fucks you hard and deep. hard enough you’re seeing stars and your toes are curling, pussy fluttering around his girth. and when he’s pushed you to the edge, he’ll make sure everyone at the party knows who made you feel that good.
karasu doesn’t leave a note. he stays the night and kisses you again, his eyes droopy in a post sex-haze. he gives you his number, because why not? he sure wouldn’t mind sleeping with you again the next time you run into each other.
the next time you attend these events, it isn’t the dominant oliver or endearing karasu who charms you. instead, otoya comes unexpectedly — slithering his way into your heart (and pants) before you could realize it. he’s subtle, and doesn’t stand out much from the crowd. it comes like a shock to you when you find yourself pressed up against a wall in a random hallway with his lips against your neck. he doesn’t say sweet things like karasu, or teases you on how you’re such a dirty whore like oliver would. no, otoya speaks with his words, and you get the message clear enough when he’s pumping his fingers in you. he’s quiet still, giving you only breathy moans and low groans when you squeeze around him — but by the heavens, he sounds the prettiest.
there is nothing quick and swift when it comes to otoya, unlike how he is when he’s speeding through the field. he takes his time with such confidence and patience that karasu would lack, since he’s too eager. and he touches you in the gentlest manners briefly reminding you of karasu, but when otoya looks at you, it’s different. with his handsome face above you, his reddened lips parted with a shuddering breath, and his eyes narrowed as he watches your cunt swallow him to the hilt. he isn’t the sweetest, but he is the most romantic. lacing his fingertips with yours, otoya swallows all your moans in a devouring kiss. his hips plunging into you in a way that you’re sure you’ll feel him for days. and he kisses like he means it — kisses your sweet pussy with his eyes closed and rough hands kneading your ass like a starved man.
and when he leaves, it’s with a hole in your heart. otoya is a silent killer, who comes and disappears into your life, but not without ensuring he’s more than just a silly fuck. because otoya didn’t have to make out lazily with you, or ask about your passions. he didn’t have to be genuinely interested in getting to know you and smile like he’s fallen in love. he didn’t have to hide that it was all a mistake — that he was already with someone else, and simply couldn’t ignore his needs when you set foot into the room and your scent got him hard.
and when the regret sinks in, otoya will barely look you in the eye. he doesn’t stay the night because there’s someone waiting for him at home.
he doesn’t ask for your name or number because it’s easier to pretend nothing happened between you. just as silently as he made his way to your heart, otoya leaves with a final resounding click of the door being shut.
because just like his friends, otoya never stays.
and they’ll be on their way to find their next conquest.
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mysticmunson · 10 months
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date night: alpha!steve harrington x omega!reader
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summary: finally scoring a date, things go smoothly until you present, and only one alpha knows.
word count: 2.8k
authors note: hii so i wrote this like two months ago and tried wrapping it up to have it posted, but i enjoy this au so please request some expansion requests :)
warnings: a/b/o dynamics, smut 18+
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The pungent smell of fryer grease sifted through the air of Benny’s, a mountain of food divided into a few plates as you sat with Robin, who was in the midst of discussing her most recent ‘study date’ with Vickie.
“Get this! We’re sitting there, talking about chemistry, and bam!” Robin exaggerates, voice lowering in fear of someone overhearing, “She looked at me and kissed me!”
You gasp, smacking her shoulder with the back of your hand, a french fry between your thumb and index finger. 
The couple had kissed a few times now, but the excitement remained as you knew how badly your friend pined over the redhead. 
“We just need to find you someone now.” She teased, taking a bite of her grilled cheese as a string of orange came from between the bread.
“I’m determined to get laid by the end of this month,” You proclaimed, giving yourself around 30 days, “I want to experience it because when or if I present, I want to be somewhat prepared.”
Presenting was a concern for your age group, freshly out of high school, as everyone awaited to discover if they would become an alpha or omega. There had been a few start to show, including your best friend, Steve. 
His presentation was expected, his father a well-known alpha in town, and the traits of one showed early. He was fiercely protective of those he cared about, known to be more than good in the sheets, and strong. Having grown up with him, you saw it happen in real time, making it even stranger when you realized how attractive he became.
Still, Robin supported you on your journey, but worried for your safety. Over analyzing any recollection you shared of a man flirting with you, deciding he was a murderer or ugly, or both. 
In her bedroom, you stood in a loose blouse, tucked into a jean skirt and a matching jacket. Applying another layer of lipstick, you fretted over your appearance as you waited for the clock to strike 6:30, and for your date to pick you up here. 
“Steve is coming over.” Robin mentioned, sipping on her water bottle, sitting cross-legged on her bed.
“Okay,”  You reply, “We just need him gone by the time Devin comes.”
Steve was a great best friend, but he could be a real pain in the ass. He had been scaring any potential boyfriend away since middle school, deeming them not good enough or them being too intimidated by him as he faked a macho persona.
For the plan to work, he couldn’t know. He would go on a tangent about how you didn’t have to have sex just to do it. That was true, but it was hard to listen to a guy who had numerous sexual partners preach it.
The front door swung open as if on cue as you and Robin went to the living room, Steve kicking off his shoes. He began his rant about work, Family Video making him lose hair from stress and children yanking on his hair.
You paid attention, but kept an extra eye on the clock, noticing the hands nearing 6:30. Cursing Steve’s tangent for not letting him leave sooner, you swallowed your anxieties, peaking to make sure a car wasn’t outside. As inconspicuously as possible, you stood and went to grab your heels from Robin’s room. 
Toeing quietly, you were hoping to go unnoticed, but Steve decided to be aware for one of the first times tonight. “Where are you going? You’re dressed up.”
Shrugging, you leaned against the wooden door, “Just out for the night, a friend is picking me up.”
A terrible liar, you thought of something that wasn’t completely fictional, however, they both could tell. The sight of headlights caught your attention, standing straighter, “Okay, bye!”
Robin rushed to the front door to stick her head out as you walked away, “Wrap it before you tap it!”
Embarrassment crawling up your neck, you flicked her off behind your back, opened the car door, and stepped in.
“What!” Steve gasped, startling Robin as she shut the door and who hadn’t expected him to follow her or hear him. Thankfully, the car had pulled away, leaving a confused man with a bit too much heat in his cheeks at his best friend to get some.
“I’m just kidding, Harrington. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Robin snarled, shoulder-bumping him as she went back to her couch. 
The date was fine, Devin was a kid you’d gone to school with since diapers. He had boyish features, cheeks a bit chubby with dimples, and was always polite. He had asked you to hang out a few days prior, agreeing on tonight.
Curls in your stomach that you attributed to nerves hadn’t vanished, even as you both mutually realized midway through your walk in the park that things were platonic. 
Heat simmered within you, discarding your jacket and feeling beads of sweat trickle down the back of your neck. It wasn’t hot outside, even as you walked around and chatted. 
“Are you okay? I don’t mean to sound rude, you don’t look well.” Devin questioned, a hand on your shoulder as your legs began to wobble. 
Nausea flooded you before dissipating, wavering emotions as you tried to make sense of what was wrong. 
Through the nerves, you kept thinking of Steve. How he would let his fingers trail against your lower back in hugs, kiss your head when leaving, and put his hand in front of your body when he hit the brakes too hard while driving.
“I don’t know.” You mumbled, feeling tears threaten through. As you made that statement, you felt the surge between your legs, knowing you had presented. 
It couldn’t be happening now. Not with someone you didn’t know well. Not when you hadn’t been able to score a boyfriend first. Not now. 
“I think I need to go home, I’m so sorry-” You began, huffing as streaks of mascara fell down your warm cheeks. 
Assuring you it was okay, Devin drove you home, even stopping to get you a snack to make your stomach feel at ease. While it didn’t help, you appreciated the thoughtful gesture and thanked him as he waited for you to get securely in your apartment.
The space went from chilly to scorching, removing any amount of clothes you could besides a pair of boyshorts. Your mind raced with confusion as your nipples became hard, feeling a chill, but like a fire on ice. 
Anxieties without category hit you, curling in a ball as you cried, sitting on your floor. It felt pathetic, but no stream of thought was strong enough to withstand the hormones.
Time slipped by as you tried regulating your breathing, applying slight pressure on your clothed core. A shrill ring came from your black phone, lifting the handle and pressing it to your ear.
“You were not supposed to answer!” Robin grumbled, already giving the heads up that she’d call to see if you were getting some, that no answer would be her answer. You had forgotten this rule, her tone making you bring in a fresh set of tears.
On the other end, Robin sat in her room with Steve walking in, not staying in the living room as she had asked. Her priorities were averted to the cry on the other side of the phone.
“Wait, what happened? Why are you crying? What happened with Devin?” Robin frantically questioned, Steve glancing over with furrowed brows as Robin had never stated who she was speaking with. 
“Devin? From junior year math class? That was the friend?” Steve grimaced, toying with nicknacks in his friend’s bedroom, earning a finger on the lips to quiet him down.
“I presented,” You whispered, “I’m so scared and uncomfortable and overwhelmed! What alpha do you know, I don’t care who it is anymore.” 
Though you would probably care later, the clouded judgment had you aching for any form of reprieve from the pain. 
“Fuck, I don’t know!” Robin squeaked, not wanting to reveal your status to Steve for fear of your embarrassment, but she contemplated. The gears of her brain turned as she questioned his overprotectiveness, the way he was quick to frustration when discovering you were on a date.
“Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out, Y/N. I promise.” She concluded, hanging up and grabbing her yearbook.
The faces of former students made her ill, but word got around about presentations, and she hoped that seeing their faces would make her recollect.
“What the hell’s going on? Do I need to go fight Devin?” Steve eyed his friend, an unnerving worry in his stomach. 
Biting her lip, she debated internally, “She needs help.”
“What is looking at that going to do?” Steve gawked, used to his friend’s antics, but still astounded when they acted erratically.
“I’m trying to remember who’s an alpha.”
“Why would you need to know who became an alpha-”
As the words left, his mouth ran dry, and he gulped while looking at Robin. She slowly looked up, watching the dark iris’ before her enlargen.
“Steve-” Robin began, the corner of a page between her two fingers.
The stern look on his face was withholding a multitude of emotions, ones she couldn’t quite make out. She made the judgment call that maybe Steve was your best bet.
“She’s at her place.” 
That was all that needed to be said before Steve ran out her front door and into his car. He had driven your route a million times, but never this fast. 
His blood pumped with nerves and excitement. He had spent his ruts alone, a fist full of himself with the occasional tears of frustration as he tried to alleviate his knot. But now you had presented as an omega.
Refraining from palming his crotch, he watched your streetlights come into view, throwing his car into park. The dark hallways were typically concerning, but your door was practically glowing within his mind.
He growled at the smell in the air, catching his attention more the closer he got. Gripping the door handle, it was unlocked, thankful no one else had noticed the compromising position. 
Choking on his own breath, he fumbled with the lock behind him and trekked down the dim hallway. The protectiveness he already felt was consuming, his palms sweating as he made his way closer. 
The door swung open too quickly as the handle slipped from his grasp, seeing you flinch from your curled position on the floor. 
As if you were nothing, he lifted you from your armpits, making you stand in front of him. Eyes blazing, he looked pointedly as he undid his belt.
“Your door.” He stated, voice wavering with stability.
Furrowing your brows, you looked up at him, “What?”
His shirt was shrugged off, tossing it to the ground as your eyes drifted to his broad chest, whimpering at the sight to his delight.
“It was unlocked, don’t you ever fucking do that again.” He gritted pushing his jeans off, cupping your cheek with one hand and leaning forward so the back of your knees touched your bed. 
His nose had skimmed against yours, breath fanning against your cheeks as you drank in every pheromone he perpetrated. Breath quickening, every thought coming to your head was vulgar, eyes softening in need.
“I won’t.” You whimpered, yelping as your back hit the wrinkled sheets, and his chest soon pressed against your bare one. 
“I mean it, don’t ever do that again, you could’ve gotten hurt.” He gripped your chin in his grasp, looking down at you as your clothed centers touched.
The brief touch made you wail, your body suddenly aware of what was to come. Equally as impatient, he grabbed one side of your underwear and ripped it. Repeating the act on the opposing side, the shreds of fabric were now a relic of the you before this moment.
Palming himself, looking down at your frame as a predator and prey, he growled. 
“How bad do you want it?” He egged on, ripping his own boxers off and onto the floor. 
“Please, Steve, please.” You whined, watching as his cock bobbed. Blushing profusely pink, your mouth watered at it and your chest began to burn with greed.
He seemed far too composed, the performance of himself he was forced to obtain through most of his teen years floating to the top. However, his soft spot was you. It always had been and both of your fresh senses were sensing the discomfort in both of you. 
“Alpha, please.”
That was all it took for his body to be pressed to yours and his lips to meet yours for the first time. 
Grunts and gasps came from you both as the underside of his cock rubbed against your folds, too consumed with how he tasted and how you smelled. 
“Keep that door locked, do you understand?” He gritted, fisting himself in his own grasp, his first thrust in synchronizing with your nod.
A pained cry rose from your lungs, tears already streaming down your cheeks, his lips kissing where the beads were.
Desperation reeked from you both as you grabbed at one another, needing any form of solidification that the other was there. 
Steve found comfort in your warmth, trying his best to soothe your discomfort with affection. Kissing on your neck or rubbing your clit, the latter making you shriek from sensitivity. 
“My omega now,” He sighed, balls reaching the curve of your ass as he settled against you, “my girl. Always have been.” 
“Always yours, alpha, always Steve.” You trembled, the veins of his length stimulating every ridge within yourself. His brown hair crowned around his face, only able to see him in your state of need. 
Though you were the one presenting, Steve felt the same wave of emotions he felt during his first rut, but now even more with another person. His person. The one who knew him since he had gaps in his front teeth, since he had graduated, and every minute moment before and after.
“Fuck, I love you.” He blurted out, feeling his own bashfulness creep up his neck. 
To his relief, you began to be more overcome with emotion, agreeing. Each thrust hit your spongy spot inside you, convincing you more and more he was the only one who could make you feel this way.
“I love you too,” You revealed, locking his lips between yours briefly, “M’sorry I didn’t ask for you first, I was nervous.”
Your words were sweeter than honey, but the implication that someone else almost came to your aid burned him deeply. His hands pushed up your thighs, your knees coming up as he fucked you deeper than you could comprehend. 
“Devin asked me out and I just wanted a boyfriend, but I didn’t want him, I swear-” You cried, unknowingly provoking more possessiveness. 
“Honey, please, it’s okay.” He gritted, clenching sheets in his shaking hands, suppressing the urge to flick his hips quicker.
“I wanted you, alpha, please.” You sighed, stroking his cheek and hair, anywhere you could touch, “I’m so happy, I’m sorry, thank you-”
“Don’t worry, I would’ve found you anyway. You’re my girl, my omega.” He assured, gulping down the emotions he felt when you looked into his eyes.
His words appeared to have a larger effect than any physical reimbursement could do for you as your fingers clenched within his hair. 
Your cry as you came made his hormones go into a flurry. He could feel your uneasiness being thrown into release. It was as if your chests opened in tandem, reaching out and moving in sync as he finished inside you.
White noise filled both of your ears as Steve’s body hovered over yours with much of his weight on top of you. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his chest, shoving your face against the crook of his neck. 
Pumping himself within you until sensitivity took over, he gasped at how you clenched around him. His stature shook as he knotted, a hand going to your hip to keep in place, chest heaving to regain a steady tempo.
“Thank you.” You whimpered, hugging his chest closer to your front, an embrace he matched. Pressing a kiss on the side of your forehead, he trailed down to your ear with pecks and bites.
Rolling to his back, he pulled you to his chest, rubbing your back after you tried sitting up.
“Just relax, honey.” He cooed, the exhaustion already hitting you both, stilling your hips from causing you both more frustration in the compromising position. 
“I want to make you knot again.” You whine beneath your breath, trying to sit up again, ignoring the pain shooting through your body at his swelling. 
“Easy tiger,” He chuckles, biting his lip to stop his own need, “we’ve got time.”
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tagging mutuals :)
@andvys @lilacletter @corrodedcorpses @munsonsreputation @berryfairy444 @poppy-metal @lesservillain @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint
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temptaetions · 4 months
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cinnamon sugar 🌙 k.sm (m)
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a/n: the photo above is from seungmin's instagram. i don't own the media, but i sure was blessed to see it. anyway, i think this is my first post with like...actual smut in it. please forgive me, because it is so shitty, i'm so bad at writing it. anyway, uhm, enjoy! my anon ask is now on, if you'd like to send any requests in!
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synopsis: her lips taste sweet, like cinnamon sugar...she's such a treat.
genre: best friends to lovers | idiots in love | x fem!reader | smut | fluff | angst
pairing(s): best friend!kim seungmin x virgin!reader
word count: 6k. lowercase intended.
rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.
warning(s): swearing, mutual pining, a lot of emotional turmoil from both parties, horribly written smut [between k.sm x reader: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), creampie, soft d/s themes, (slight) overuse of pet names (angel, sweetheart) oral (f. receiving), paragraphs of praise, so much kissing, some grinding, the lightest amount of nipple play. riding/missionary, crying during sex, multiple orgasms, reader begs a lot, they stare into each others eyes and hold hands while fucking oh my god]. this is slightly self indulgent but the guilt i feel after writing it, and so badly at that, is overwhelming.
what to listen to: gaze - sweetback | eat it - megan thee stallion | agora hills - doja cat | real love - mary j. blige | whatta man - salt-n-pepa & en vogue
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message from: seungmin🧸🤎
[7:32pm] i’m coming to pick u up, i want a cinnabon.
message to: seungmin🧸🤎
[7:33pm] ur paying 🤑
"can i get aux?" you say as you slide into seungmin's car. the leather of the passenger seat was cool to the touch, a sign that nobody had sat in your self-assigned seat. "hello to you too, best friend. how was my day? oh, it was lovely! it's so nice to see you, too!" "oh, shut up, min. you don't give a shit if i ask those questions or not." you chuckle, snatching his aux cable out of the center console. "you know me so well, fuck. i hate small talk. just merge souls with me." you and seungmin had been best friends for over ten years. he knew you inside and out - from your scalp to the bottom of your feet (including the scar from his razor scooter slamming into your ankle at age sixteen.)
you shared a lot of interests, but none as intense as your love of music and cinnamon rolls. he was always at your dance recitals. your biggest fan, really. he cheered, but never showed you more praise than necessary.
"i need you to stay humble, it helps me tolerate you." he murmured into your hair after one recital last year. you just shook your head in amusement, holding it high as you let him march you to his car for dinner.
"oh, i updated our playlist! i have a few new things on here." you said excitedly as you scrolled through the playlists on your homepage. you shared this love language – you had dozens of collaborative playlists with user ksm922, and you giggled at the ugly photos of the two of you he often used for the covers.
"sure." he shrugs, using his pinky to turn the volume dial up. your eyes trail on his slender fingers as they return to the wheel, but you shake it off just as quickly. pressing play, you let the smooth r&b sounds fill the car.
"oh, this is nice. what is this?" seungmin nods his head along to it, and you glance at the screen. "gaze by sweetback. it played on my sade station, and the vibes are just so kim seungmin, yanno?" you close your eyes and fake being a disc-jockey, his hand coming to pinch your arm lightly, a chuckle playing on his lips. "stop that, you'd be a horrible deejay."
"are you sure this isn't about sex? geez, bub, act like you get some." he teases, and you swat his arm. "i do get some!" "oh yeah? from who?" his eyes are trained on the road as he bullies you about your sex life (or lack thereof), allowing you a moment to stare at his ringed fingers. oh, the way they gripped the wheel, they could so easily grip your neck–
shut up, y/n.
"your mom." you huff, crossing your arms with a pout. you hated this conversation, and you often avoided it with him. yes, seungmin was your best friend, but you never wanted to talk about your sex life with him. he had experiences…and you heard from so many people how good it was.
with him, to be specific.
"what are we, thirteen? you wish my mother would breathe in your direction, you fucking virgin." he scoffs, and you force a snicker out. you glance at your phone, a smirk threatening to escape as it started. "oh, this one is good. turn it up!" he obliged, not even giving the screen a second look.
you settle in your seat as megan thee stallion's voice blares through the speakers, muffling a soft laugh behind your hand. seungmin hated the idea of you being a sexual being, and you often used it to bother him. you liked seeing him get red in the face, and squirm. it doesn't mean you understood it, but it was hilarious.
legs shakin', hit it 'til the bed breaking…bed springing, talk to it…
seungmin's mouth is agape, his cheeks firetruck red…
i don't want just one nut, daddy, i need the whole tree, ah…
…before his nimble fingers press skip. 
"are you serious, y/n? in my christian minecraft server?" his eyes are still fixed on the road, his knuckles turning white from his hold on the steering wheel. weird.
"it's megan! i love her, she's the hot girl coach. you don't want me to be a virgin forever, do you?" you joke, and he scrunches his nose. "since when do you listen to music about getting your…ugh, whatever. don't ever bring up sex appeal, you repulse me." you laugh loudly, your hand going to pinch his cheek softly. "you're so cute when you get flustered, min. here, i'll play pretty boy by the neighbourhood in your honor."
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he can't stop thinking about it. it's been four hours since you played the song in the car, and it's still stuck in his head. well, what he did hear.
you, inherently, did not come across as a sexual being. you didn't, and that wasn't seungmin being just a platonic, nice friend – you genuinely did not care to be the core of anyone's sexual desire. you wore oversized shirts and loose jeans, the occasional dress paired with black pantyhose and boots. "gotta hide my ankles, minnie. that's how they getcha." but thinking about you…listening to that song? your hips winding down on some other man like he's seen you do on stage? hell, some other man's face when he's right here?
it made him sick.
and you were so beautifully unaware as you swirled your fork in your cinnamon roll, bringing the tines to your lips and sucking the icing clean off them. not a second lick or adjustment, just straight off. he felt his cheeks heat as his cock twitched in his pants, and he almost missed you waving your fingers in his face. "yo, you good? you seem distracted." you have a bit of icing on your lip, and he subconsciously reaches over to wipe it off. your eyes are wide as he does so, and he doesn't know why he can't move his thumb from your lip. he doesn't know why everything feels like it's moving in slow motion, and he just watches as you instinctively suck your lip between your teeth at the loss of contact.
you're so pretty, fuck, you're so pretty.
"i'm good. do you want to go?" he's surprised to hear his own voice, and you nod absently. he was acting weird, he knew he was, but he feels like there's a fog in his brain that he can't shake. maybe it was the way he'd memorized every curve of your body, from watching your fluid dances. maybe it was the way that you smiled so innocently, you were so innocent. your eyes big and pure, your heart full, your mind…naïve.
he didn't understand the sudden urge to ruin you, but he knew he had to get over it, and fast.
"fuck." he groans, and your head whips around to look at him. "you okay?"
he nods quickly, his hand landing on the small of your back to guide you to the car faster. "min, if you have to shit, you can just say that." "ugh, shut up. you always say the most unhinged shit. no wonder you can't get laid." he rolls his eyes, and you just laugh. "trust me, it's not for lack of opportunity." you let him open the door for you, and you wink at him playfully, his fingers flicking your forehead before shutting the door. it was true, multiple of your friends had offered to…deflower you. hyunjin, on your dance team. minho, on your production team. felix, your choreographer. even their friends in the music department had offered, and you simply smiled, shaking your head at them. "i just like to flirt, your dick is your problem."
but much like seungmin, they had all seen the way you moved. how easily you sunk to your knees, how smooth your gyrations were, the way you looked like you enjoyed it. you felt good knowing people were attracted to you, but it never compared to what you believed was seungmin's innocent gaze.
it was weird to want more from him, and it pained you, slightly. he was cute, your best friend. cute, experienced, and he knew you. he knew you so well, what could go wrong? he could reject you, that's what.
you're in your own head when you realize the car has been moving, and rather fast, at that. "min, seriously. are you shitting your pants?" you roll your eyes, and he brings the car to a screeching halt. "bro, your brakes." you cringe, covering your ears as he pulls into his driveway.
"are you going to kill me? no way, jisung always said i'd go out this way. please, tell my mother i love her and make sure i get the best spot in heaven." you feign terror as you unbuckle your seatbelt, not noticing the way seungmin can't even look at you. you feel how hard he slams his door, and you give his car a pitiful look as you slide out, following him to his apartment. he lived on the first floor, what a privilege.
he doesn't look at you as he walks into the apartment, tossing his keys onto the kitchen table. "y/n, i have a question."
"oh? mr. attitude has a question, does he?" you smile sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest, the cowhide leather of the letterman you stole from him in high school rough against your skin. "alright, let's hear it." "why are you still a virgin?" okay, not what you were expecting. don't let it fluster you. you don't really notice his hardened expression as you try to answer. "well…it's just not on my list of priorities. i'll get fucked when i get fucked, you know?"
you shrug, not thinking much of your answer as he steps closer. "hm, i don't buy it."
raising an eyebrow, you shake your head, unbuttoning the jacket. "you're acting so weird, seungmin. if you wanna fuck me, just say that."
you sound surprisingly confident, and you can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you slide the jacket off, draping it over the couch. you gather your hair forward, spinning to speak to him again. "did you still want to watch the mov-" you're cut off by his lips pressing against yours, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer. you can't move, your hands frozen as he works you carefully, lips burning against your own. his movements feel desperate, and you let your body take over as you kiss him back, a soft sigh escaping his lips as your tongue slips between them. the kiss is hungry, his hands are digging into you so deeply you're sure you'll bruise. 
he stops. his fingers let go of your hips, and he pulls away, your lips chasing after his as he does. your lip gloss is glittering on his face, before he covers his eyes. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i have no idea what came over me, i…i'm sorry, please, let me take you home."
you can't speak, your mind still swirling with endorphins. your best friend of ten years just made the biggest move on you, and without a word, you managed to fumble it. no way. absolutely not.
"sorry for what? i'm not understanding." you suddenly feel very vulnerable, your skin littering with goosebumps at the sudden change in the air. "i'm perfectly fine with…whatever you were doing."
seungmin peers back at you through dark eyes. "no, y/n. we can't." he swipes his keys off the table, and you huff. "and why can't we, seungmin? what is so bad about kissing me?" his eyes are wide as you ramble, and it's all word vomit. you can't seem to stop it, but he's drinking every word.
"what is it? am i a bad kisser? is it because i'm a virgin? i don't think it's very fair that you can openly admit to being other girls' firsts but you can't even do that for me. you haven't even offered. i'm not saying you fucking have to, because you're my best friend and you always will be. but holy fuck, seungmin, i'm trying to get some. you said i should, so why not be the one i get it from?" 
you're out of breath, and seungmin just shakes his head as he takes one, two steps back in front of you. "you think i don't want to be your first? you think i don't want you all to myself, to ruin you for anyone else? you think i don't want to fuck you stupid, until all you know is my name? are you hearing yourself right now?"
"you're certainly not acting like it. it doesn't have to mean shit, seungmin. it's just sex." you roll your eyes, leaning on the couch. "it's not just sex, y/n. this is a huge step for you, for us. our friendship is on the line, and i don't want to do something you might regret later." you shake your head, and he hates when you get stubborn like this, you won't listen to reason. "still not seeing the issue here. i lose my virginity and gain some experience for the next guy, you get your dick wet. we go to bed, and we act like it didn't happen in the morning. you take me home, we listen to our playlists on the way there, and we go about our days."
he flings his keys onto the floor, his hands reaching to hold your face. he tucks a few strands behind your ears, fingers lovingly caressing your pierced lobes before he looks you dead in the eyes. "y/n, if i give you what you want tonight, there is no chance in hell you're going to fuck someone else."
you stare back at him silently, your eyes darting to his lips before your tongue peeks out to wet your own. it's not the worst thing in the world, being with seungmin. it could be good…and not just the sex. he knows you, you know him…his lips felt like they were made for you. they always had, since your drunken kiss on christmas eve.
"you say that like it's a threat." you challenge, and he bites back a smile, nodding his head. his hand has traveled to your hip, his other still holding your face when his nose touches yours, his breath hitting your lips. "if you want me to stop at any point, just let me know. understand, sweetheart?"
you nod, leaning forward to connect your lips. he pulls back, shaking his head. "i need to hear you say you understand."
"jeez, seungmin, i understand. i get it, can we please move this along?" you're not the least bit embarrassed as you whine against him, and he lets you kiss him. your lips are eager, your hands carding through his hair as he licks into your mouth. the kiss is all teeth and tongue, a soft moan interrupting it as he gives your clothed breast a gentle squeeze, his thumb working over your pebbled nipple. "min, i…" "what, tell me what you want, sweetheart." his lips trail down your jaw, nipping along your exposed neck carefully. your whines are like heaven to him, "n-need you.." "aw, you need me? need me where?" he's loving this, the way you squirm under his lips, under his nimble fingers. you push your chest into him involuntarily, "h-here. please?"
you grab his wrist, a wave of confidence taking over as you guide his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants. his fingers are cool against your clothed heat, a soft wet patch forming on the fabric. his eyes are wide as he instinctively lets his hand run over the spot, watching as you flinch, lip caught between your teeth. he presses hard against you, a gasp falling from your mouth. "i haven't even touched you, and look at how wet you are for me. a little pathetic, hm?" "'m’ yours, minnie. always, always been yours." you don’t mean that, he thinks. he's letting you grind against his hand, his gaze transfixed on your face. your brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut as you used his hand to get yourself to the edge. his cock twitches at the little pants falling from your lips, when he decides he's had enough. you nearly cry at the loss of contact, his hand escaping the confines of your plush thighs. "minnie-" "if you're gonna cum, it's gonna be on my face. let's go, sweetheart." he tugs you towards his bedroom, your legs weak as you try not to stumble behind him. "bed. on your back."
he's pulling his sweater over his head, and you nearly coo at his messy hair in your fucked out state. he feels a flush coat his cheeks as you lay there, waiting for him to tug your pants off. hooking his fingers in your waistband, you lift your hips to make it easier, and he slides your underwear and sweatpants off in one go. you suddenly feel shy, closing your legs. 
"ah, ah. it's just me, sweetheart. do you want to stop?" his hands move to your knees, the cool metal of his rings sending a soft shock to your spine. "no, i'm…okay. i'm just nervous." "it's okay, angel. i got you, don't worry." he presses a kiss to your forehead, nose…lips. he lingers there a bit, but doesn't let it deepen as he runs his hands down your legs. his fingers dig into your thighs, pulling them apart for him to settle between. you're soaking, the heat of his stare making anxiety bubble in your stomach. "fuck, you're going to be the death of me." his lips press soft, chaste kisses along your inner thigh, nipping carefully as you mewl. "minnie, please..i..please…" you end in a whimper, and who is he to deny you when you beg so nicely? he buries his nose in your pussy, bumping your clit as he lets his tongue drag through your folds, collecting your sweet, sweet arousal on his face. your hand flies to his hair as his lips suck on your clit, thighs threatening to close around his head. he doesn't care, he'd die a happy man right there between your legs.
"f-fuck, seungmin, ah! right there, holy f-fuh.." you're shaking around his head, bucking your hips into his face as gently as you can muster. he loves it, but he can't tell you that as he drowns in the scent of you, the obscene sounds of his tongue against you paired with your pretty whimpers ensuring he'd probably cum in his pants. "oh, b-baby i'm gonna.."
his hand reaches for yours, interlacing your trembling fingers with his, his other hand massaging your thigh in encouragement. he can barely bring himself to talk, a soft moan of his against your clit sending you over the edge, a soft cry of his name echoing in the room. "that's it, good job angel. you did so well for me, hm?" he's still lapping at you, not wanting to miss a single shiver or whimper from your body. "s'always that good? min?" he peers up at you from his spot between your legs, your lips parted as you blink, a tear rolling down the side of your face. he moves up to wipe it away, but you take his hand in yours, kissing his palm softly. "you okay? we can stop." he presses his forehead against yours, not able to process your cute gesture without wanting to bawl. you nod, a lazy smile crossing your lips as you reach to kiss him. "m'all good, minnie. do you…want me to help you?"
you can feel his clothed cock pressing against your leg, practically begging to be set free, and you teasingly buck up against it. he inhales sharply, shaking his head, "i want tonight to be about you. i want to make sure you feel good, okay? are you sure you want to continue?" "yeah, m'all yours." you sigh against his lips, a chaste kiss from you to him. "can i take this off, sweetheart?" he yanks lightly on your shirt, and you nod. you help him tug it over your head, your fingers reaching backwards to unclasp your bra. he feels like all the air is sucked out of the room as you lay beneath him, for him, in all your glory. every curve he's imagined just as gorgeous. "you're staring, it's making me shy." your soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "no, no, fuck, you're gorgeous. look at you, oh my god, i.." he trails off, his hands resting on your tummy. "you just went down on me, and you're short-circuiting over my tits, kim?" your teasing is not helping his brain, but the attitude brings him back to reality. "you know that's not all it is, stop it." he rolls his eyes, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. it's soothing, the warmth of your skin radiating against his. he dips his head between your breasts, trailing open mouthed kisses all over your chest and stomach. "you're so beautiful. i'm literally the luckiest person in the entire universe." he's mumbling to himself mostly, but you feel soft tears prick at your eyes. his lips latch around one of your nipples, a gasp from you making him pull off with a pop. "can i…are you sure you want this, y/n? i really, really don't want you to regret this."
you grab his face in your hands, your thumbs lightly padding over his cheeks. "i want you, entirely. in this life, in the next life. okay? i got you, don't worry." you echo his words back to him, and he bites his lip, a hint of something in his eyes as he pulls back to unbuckle his pants. kicking them off quickly, you wait until he straightens to take a peek. 
the rumors were true. he's thick, his tip a soft mauve. your mouth is watering at the sight, when a snap of his fingers catches your attention. "eyes up here, sweetheart. i want you to look at me, can you do that?"
you nod, a shy smile on your lips as he goes to spread your knees again. "no, wait, minnie…" he feels his heart skip a beat at your voice, eyes flickering to yours in concern. "i…can i be on top? i read that…it can be better that way." you swallow thickly, and he feels the tips of ears burn but a smile grazes his features. "you studied for sex?"
any awkwardness is gone. you scoff, a light smack landing on his arm. "forgive me for wanting to be in control."
"you want to be in control? okay. fine, but you won't last long." he shrugs, sliding onto the bed behind you, eyes taking in the curve of your ass before you turn. "lay back, asswipe." "watch the attitude, or i'm shutting this shit down." he says, eyes serious as you feel your cheeks heat. you watch as he gets comfortable on his pillows, and you crawl over to him, your hands brushing against his sides as you straddle him. "we can go as slow as you want, okay?" his words are reassuring as his hands reach for your thighs, and you nod.
you take a deep breath, lightly letting your cunt drag along his length, his tip bumping your clit. you shiver, a buzz going up your legs as he takes your hips in his hands, manually guiding you over his cock. "did you read about this too?"
"shut up." you roll your eyes, his hands holding you in place. he looks…so convincing like this. like everything will go back to normal after this, like everything will be the same. he'll still be your best friend, and you'll still be desperately, hopelessly, stupidly in love with him. it's overwhelming, and you just bite your lip, shaking your head. "you're staring." "your dick is twitching, but i'm not saying shit." scoffing, you take him in your hand gently, lining him up with your aching center. you sink down slowly, the tip barely swiping your entrance when you grimace, a hiss escaping your lips as you screw your eyes shut. "i know, angel. here, let me help you." seungmin pulls you closer, his back against his headboard, careful not to pull out. you watch as his hand snakes between the two of you, his thumb softly circling your clit, your eyes threatening to close. "eyes open." you oblige, feeling a gush of arousal at his command, and you have no room to feel embarrassed when he begins to shallowly fuck into you, matching the pace of his thumb. your eyes are glossy as you move your hands to hold onto the headboard, your chest flush to his face. he kisses your shoulder, your soft whimpers music to his ears. 
"deeper? or stay like this?" he asks, voice shaking slightly, the warmth of your pussy almost staggering. it's humiliating how worked up you have him, but you need to stay humble. it helps him tolerate you. "d-deeper, is okay."
his arms wrap around your waist tightly, slowly pulling you down further, a whine escaping your throat as your hands move to his shoulders, your eyes meeting his. he's trying not to cum from the way your pretty cunt swallowed him so perfectly, taking him so well. made for him, just him. "m'so full, minnie." you clench around him, and it takes all his willpower not to finish. he's not far, he's practically seeing stars…but the way you're looking at him, you're so pretty, so ready to cry over his cock. he needs to drag this out as long as he can.
"y-you can move, if you want. p-please, want to feel you." you're pleading, he knows. he swallows, confidence wavering as he nods, slowly thrusting up into you, the squelch immediately catching his attention, eyes tearing from yours. he watches the way you take him, your body begging to be ruined by him. he moves a little faster, your mind beginning to blur as he falls into a rhythm. 
your nails are digging into his shoulders, your lip caught between your teeth as his hips rock against yours. his eyes flicker back to your face, and you manage a quick wink. he feels his cheeks burn beet red as he looks away. he feels like such a fucking virgin, when he is the one that's your first, not the other way around. pretty girl on his lap and he can't even look at you.
he wishes you had been his first, too, and he wishes you would have asked him sooner. you're so smart, you're so gorgeous, your lips taste like cinnamon sugar. fuck, he loves you. you're his best friend, you feel so good around him and you know him so well. he loves you, so fucking much.
his hips come to a slow, your moan drawing out as he drags his cock against your walls at an agonizing pace. "'still want to be in control, angel?" his lips press to your clavicle, and you nod against his neck. "will you tell me if it's good?"
he pulls you back, hand coming up to caress your face. "how could it not be, when it's you?"
you don't say a word, allowing his lips to meet yours in a chaste kiss. he slumps a bit, and you maneuver so his back is almost flat on the bed, and you try not to moan as the movement makes his cock hit you just right. "whenever you're ready, just use me how you want to." you feel a flutter in your stomach, giving an experimental roll of your hips, your hands flat on his side. raising your hips, your thighs tremble as you start a rhythm, bouncing on him carefully. he's watching you, the way you move so fluidly, like you're dancing. like you're enjoying him, using him, making his brain feel useless. he can't speak, just drinking in this picture of you he's never going to get to see again after tonight, taking in your throaty moans.
"m-minnie?" your eyes are low, your hands moving to his chest, pushing your breasts together. fuck, you are art. "y-yeah?" 
he can't even focus as you whimper, clamping around him like a vice, moving slightly faster. "m'close, i can't..i.." you're still looking at him, and he can't. he can't take it, using his strength to flip you on your back. he interlaces your fingers, pinning your hands above you as he roughly fucks into you, sharp cries falling from your lips.
his head dips, lips dragging along your jaw as he whispers in your ear. "this is where you belong. under me, begging for me. got it?"
you feel chills cover your body as you nod, "y-yes, god, yes." "good girl." he's so unsure of himself, he's so afraid he'll scare off your high but he needs to know. "did you mean what you said earlier?" he's speaking through gritted teeth, his eyes focused on the gloss in your eyes.
"hmm?" your brows furrow, your bitten lips slightly agape as his thrusts become sloppy, and he just shakes his head, opting to kiss you instead. hoping it'll help the knot in his stomach go away, hoping it will help you forget he asked. you can't help but pant into his mouth, feeling him smile against your lips. "you can let go, sweetheart. you did so well for me, yeah? i got you." you don't register how tightly you squeeze his fingers, or how deeply you're kissing him as you feel the white hot sensation rip through you. he's drunk off you, and you can feel him spurting inside you, his cum trickling out of you as his thrusts come to a slow, slow, stop.
but he doesn't, his lips don't. he can't stop kissing you, he doesn't want to talk. he doesn't want to tell you how you made him feel, how he can never see you the same again. he doesn't want to watch you walk out of his apartment tonight and possibly never be able to talk you again. he doesn't want to ever, ever hear about you doing this with some other guy, but he made his bed. 
your thighs are trembling around him, and you tug your fingers out of his grasp, pulling as far away from his mouth as you physically can. he pouts, chasing after them, only stopping when your eyes blink slowly at him.
"you alright?" his voice is soft, almost scared. you nod, swallowing thickly as you look away, tears forming in your eyes. "ah, talk to me, y/n. it's okay." "i meant it. what i said, earlier. i…don't know why i said it, i never planned on saying it. i'm sorry if it's going to make things awkward." you feel a tear escape, your hand quickly pawing it away. "awkward? with you? it’s not possible." he murmurs, and you glance at him, but he's staring at the pillows above your head.
"but you don't feel the same way." you say, almost as if you're trying not to hurt your feelings by letting your own words reject you, instead of him. he shifts, and you realize he's still inside you. he props himself up on his elbows, hands holding his head up as he peers at you. "you think i don't?"
"i know you don't." you laugh coldly, and he smiles. "yeah, miss sex expert? you know everything? did you read that, too?"
"ugh, stop. i'm never telling you anything again." you're becoming increasingly aware of your nudity, and seungmin can feel the hot flame of shame creeping up his back. he shakes his head, hating the way his blushing cheeks burn so bright. "i want you to tell me everything, forever. i love knowing you, i love trusting you. i'm glad you trusted me with this."
you can't look at him. his hand moves to make you look at him, fingers lightly squeezing your jaw. "and i meant what i said, too. you can't fuck anyone else. only i can see you like this, okay?"
his eyes are searching your face, watching you attempt to nod. "and…" he sighs, feeling tears prick at his eyes. "and i love you. i love your smile, and how you laugh when you play sex songs in the car. i love when we split cinnamon rolls, because you always try to take the bigger piece as if i won't just let you have it. i love when you say my name because it rolls so nicely off your tongue. i love how you move so effortlessly, and how you remember every little thing about anyone, ever. i love that you're funny, and you're so passionate. i love that you're so smart, far too smart to think that i wouldn't sell my soul to live an eternity by your side." his voice is trembling, and your eyes are wide and full of tears, full of adoration, of love for the stupid boy hovering above you.
"i love you, please. please say you're mine." his tears spill, and your lips part, a soft sob escaping as you pull him close, the cool metal of his necklace dragging against your damp skin. "i'm yours, always. i'm yours, i'm yours, i'm yours. i love you." you mumble against his lips, your tears mixing with his on your cheeks.
"thank fuck, i was about to end it all thinking about you doing that fucking trick on someone else." he mutters, and you snort as he buries his face. "that wasn't in the article, funnily enough. it just felt like the right thing to do. think if i pierced my clit, it'd feel better for you?" you ponder aloud, and he nips at your skin.
"don't even start, i haven't even pulled out." he groans, and you laugh loudly. "you're so pretty." he pouts, and rolls his eyes as they start filling with tears, your hand quickly wiping the ones that spilled. "is this going to happen every time? i kind of hate it."
"god, i hope so. i love seeing you like this for me." you tease, and he scrunches his nose. "shut up. stay humble, it's the only way i tolerate you." he nuzzles his nose back into your neck, and you let him stay there, carding your fingers through his hair.
"y/n?"
"yes, seungmin?" "i'm yours, you know that?"
"mmm, i do now. just mine?" "just yours. always." he nods as he pulls himself off you, placing a kiss on your temple, before brushing his lips on the shell of your ear. "someone has to fuck the attitude out of you, and i'm so glad it's gonna be me." you feel your skin heat at his words, and you smack him lightly. he gives a playful thrust, making you gasp before slowly pulling out. "you're off the hook for now, my angel. let's get you cleaned up." he doesn't stop kissing your face in the shower, or when he's shampooing your hair. he doesn't stop kissing your shoulders as he towels you dry, or your tummy when he works lotion into your skin. he can't keep his hands off you, even when you say you need to put clothes on. he can't get enough of the burn of your skin against his, and moves as fast as a human possibly can stripping the sheets off his bed and replacing them. 
he can't stop, and he won't stop kissing you, splitting cinnamon rolls with you, or singing sex songs in the car. he can't stop, and he won't stop, supporting you at your recitals and fucking you stupid as a reward. he can't stop, and he won't stop filling your cup until it's overflowing, making you laugh until you cry, and dragging moans of his name from your throat.
he can't stop, and he will never stop, loving you.
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babygorewhore · 11 months
Text
Sit down. Evan Peters smut.
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Your older boyfriend has been growing out his facial hair for a while. And he asks something of you. Something you’ve resisted before. What happens next? Requested by anonymous! I’m finally posting this! Next I’m gonna take the next few days to work on my requests!
WARNINGS! Oral! Fem receiving. Face riding.
Evan hadn’t shaved in almost a month, his beard growing more and more as the days went on. You were always attracted to him. But now? He looked so manly. Shedding his appearance as a boy. Which he was far from, but the beard…mmm. It looked so good on him.
You both sat on the bed, he was reading through a magazine as the tv was long forgotten. You were on your phone scrolling through tik tok, still bugging him to get one.
“Sorry, babe. I’m afraid that’s where our age difference comes in.” He grinned at you and you rolled your eyes.
“Okay, old man.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, gently brushing against his scruff.
“Do you like it? The beard, I mean?” Evan questioned. You paused, sensing his insecurity.
“Of course, I like it, baby. It looks good.” You cooed at him. He leaned down and kissed you, softly at first before he found your lips and grazed his teeth against your lower lip.
“Oh yeah?” He asked you.
Evan gently leaned on you, his weight pressing against your body as he continued kissing you. You felt his beard against your chin, but the scratch comforted you.
“I fucking love kissing you.” He breathed. His hand raising to gently squeeze your breast. You sucked in a breath.
Evan sucked on your lower lip as he kneaded your chest. Your core pooled at his attention as he brushed his tongue against your teeth.
You met his kiss, his tongue diving in your mouth and tasted you throughly. “Can you do something for me?” He asked against your mouth.
“Anything.” You answered, your hand against the back of his head.
“Can you…please sit on my face?” He asked. You froze, mid kiss.
He had asked you before and you refused. You couldn’t possibly. You felt way too heavy for him. You would probably crush his neck.
“Evan…” you started and he pressed a finger against your lips.
“Baby, you’re not going to crush me. I promise. You’re not too heavy. I know you’re insecure. But trust me. I can handle it. Please, I’m dying to taste you. I’ve been wanting this all day.” He trailed his lips down your neck, finding your pulse point.
His hands found your hips as his fingers tightened along them, as he guided you to sit up. You hesitated as he laid down, his eyes darkened impossibly. Evan helped you straddle his chest, pulling your oversized t shirt above your belly. “It’s okay, baby girl. Please? Please come here. I want to taste how sweet you are.”
You swallowed, still unsure. Evan gripped your thighs.
You were thicker than him, something you were always afraid that he wouldn’t find attractive. You hated that, you felt so uncomfortable whenever he held you on his lap, or picked you up. But he never let you speak badly about yourself, always reassuring you that he thought you were beautiful. Sexy, even.
“Sweetheart.” Evan reached forward, cupping your chin, making you look at him. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re not hurting me. You’re not too heavy. It feels so good, do you want me to beg?”
Your eyes widened. “What?” Evan smirked at you before he toyed with the band of your underwear.
“Please, baby. Please, fuck my face. It’ll make you feel so good, I promise. I need it.” He whispered to you, slowly lifting you higher on his chest. Your hands fell to his shoulders, as you hovered above him, your underwear pulled to your separated knees.
Evan leaned up, you felt his beard brush against your pussy. You almost pulled away. But Evan’s hands went to your ass. “Fucking sit.” He breathed, before bringing you down on his mouth.
You immediately felt his tongue driving up, circling your clit as your thighs straddled his face. Your hips buckled, but your cheeks warmed as he slurped and sucked your sensitive bud. He moaned deep within his throat as he head moved up and down. His tongue dipped inside you, tasting you deep as his beard lightly scratched your inner thighs.
“Evan-“ you squeaked as your hands splayed on his chest, as he desperately thrusted his tongue against your clit.
“Fuck, you taste so good.” He groaned, his hands finding your hips as he rolled them. You tossed insecurities aside and started humping his face.
Your slick coated his chin as you moved against his face, your pleasure growing inside your stomach. Evan quickened his pace as you reached forward to grip the headboard. Your head pressed against it as your pelvis buckled as he flicked his tongue against your folds.
“I’m gonna-“ you stuttered.
“Please do.” Evan begged. You moved your hips up and down, Evan whimpered at the pressure and you shuddered as your release came.
You chased your orgasm as your movements became sloppy and Evan held your lower back so tight you thought he would break you. You moved to get off but he still held you in place.
“I’m not done.” He whined, continuing lapping at your pussy as he licked your leftover climax.
“I can’t-Evan please. I need a break.” You said to him and he finally stopped.
You climbed off, back on the bed beside him and you glanced at his crotch. But you saw the wet patch staining his sweatpants. “Did you-“
“Yeah.” He said, a slightly blush creeping his cheeks. “It was so hot, I couldn’t contain myself.”
You nodded and he snuggled closer to your side, trailing his fingers against your arms.” You did really good, baby. I really liked it.” He confessed.
“You promise?” You looked at him through your lashes.
“Yes,” he reached forward and kissed you. Savoring your lips with the aftermath of your taste.
Taglist. @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @icannot3 @randodummy @howtobesasha @evanptrss
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justadeadreaper · 4 months
Note
okay so I'm curious- puptrapping you say? That you'd need another post to go into? I'd like to encourage this please
Puptrapping?
You want to hear about puptrapping, you say?
Anon, your wish is my command.
Just so you know, this is like you encouraging a crack addict by finding them a new dealer. I am not joking because this is my obsession at this point, but I do encourage you to send in more asks about Omega!Makarov or ideas you want me to write about because I will. I never originally thought of puptrapping; instead, it was my dear friend @frogchiro who said that she thought he would based on a comment I made about him tying you down to make sure you cum in him. Also, do thank @frogchiro because she helped me form these ideas in our late-night rants, and she is my biggest encourager.
Now that I have written this, I am tempted to write about Omega!Makarov with pups or a fic based on this idea if anyone wants it.
Obvious warnings for puptrapping (omegaverse version of babytrapping) and all the shit that goes with it, Omega!Makarov spiking your drink with an omegaverse version of Viagra (that sounds so fucking weird), but also a big misunderstanding between Omega!Makarov and reader.
This whole idea is based on it being a misunderstanding. Omega!Makarov is a feared man; no one even knows he is an omega; you were only allowed that grace of knowledge due to being his alpha -specifically chosen for being the most desired for your size and strength-. Knowing how secretive he was about his second gender, you presumed that he would never want pups as it would reveal his identity to the world, and he could not have that, could he? Hell, you did not even think he loved you; he only used you to satisfy his natural instincts that come with being an omega so that he would not be on a constant edge from having his subconscious desires not be fulfilled. You enforced the rule around using some form of protection as you did not want to force or pressure him into having pups that he would never want in a million years.
But oh, you poor, dumb alpha. How wrong could you be?
Omega!Makarov is infatuated with you. As soon as he saw you, he knew that you had to be his; no one else would be able to satisfy him after he saw you. Yes, he may be a cruel, heartless man but he loves you in his own special way and let me tell you he loves you with all his heart! He genuinely does! Now, being that he loves you so much, it is only natural that he wants your pups; it is only made worse by him being an omega and having the natural instincts to breed and have pups that poor omegas like him have. He knew he wanted pups from a young age, even if he knew that he did not love like a normal person does. Another part of him wanting to have pups is his own relationship with his father. A narcissistic, bullheaded alpha that abused Makarov and his poor brother for being omegas, Makarov had to watch as his poor mother was abused for not giving that asshole the alpha sons he desperately wanted. His father was never nice to him; he was a horrid father who chickened out at the last minute instead of suffering the consequences of his actions. Makarov does not want to be like that; he instead wants to be the best father he can be and have as many pups as he can to shove it to the old man who damaged him so much, to embrace the one thing his father abused him for and always forced him to hide.
So, for you to say that you need to use birth control? That is the biggest insult to him! Do you not love him? Do you not think he is a good enough omega to have your pups? Are you just using him to get yourself off? Are you planning on just dropping him off one day? Why do you not feel like him? He wants your pups so badly, why do you not want to give them to him?
He damn near hissed at you for suggesting such a thing, but he decided to hold his tongue as he knows he will get his way, he always has.
Now it just. depends on what type of birth control you force him to use for what he does to still be able to have your pups.
Condoms? Expect every single one to have multiple puncture holes from the set of pins that used to belong to his mother. Small enough for you not to notice but just big enough to allow enough cum to come through to give him a nice litter of pups. But that is only if you are stupid enough to allow him to be the only one to supply the condoms or allow him to be around the box by himself for longer than two minutes. If you buy them and never let him near them, you can be sure that those things will rip because, for some reason, your knot was a lot bigger than it normally is causing the condom to rip.
Birth control? He is lying about being on it. The prescription he showed you was a fake he forced a poor pharmacist to make as the pills inside that he showed you were nothing more than sugar pills mixed with the omegaverse version of Viagra known as an Amplifa that helps people knot while also increasing their fertility that he forced the drug dealers he hires to make. Each day, he will take them in front of you, knowing that they do not work. But if you are the one to supply the pills, then he is finding any pill or herb known to man to counteract it so that the birth control fails.
The Amplifa he uses to spike your drink and his own have a few side effects. I imagine omegas to have a reverse knot to match an alpha’s knot, which means they are doubly bonded. How it works is by inflating the sides of the passage like how, for an alpha, the base inflates to lock inside; it is to make sure that the alpha is being milked of all their cum and that the omega is too tight for the alpha to pull out. Since both he and you have been spiked with it, it causes your knot to inflate beyond the point of it being pulled out while he is too tight that it hurts to try and pull out. It also makes the knots last for hours upon hours instead of the normal half an hour to an hour, as it makes you cum so much. Not to mention it makes you incredibly more horny so you could fuck for longer.
With everything prepared, he has sex with you.
Once you are close to cumming he leg locks you making sure you can not push him off as you cum. Your knot inflating inside him as he milks you dry, all while he is still moving his hips in a specific motion to cause more friction that stimulates you and makes you hard yet again. Wiggling his hips and whining as you have yet another orgasm while the two of you are stuck together as his reverse knot will just not let go. Watching as his tummy begins to form a bump already as it grows from how much cum you have stuffed inside of it with every orgasm. He puts on the “I’m innocent, I swear!” act; he uses all the manipulation tactics he knows, the fake tears, the lies, the everything. He is just a simple omega who was trying to enjoy sex with his alpha; he has no idea what is going on. Whining over how worried he is since with this much cum he is most definitely already pregnant, even if you were being safe. All of this while he continues to move his hips as you cum once more.
And as soon as you are asleep from exhaustion and overstimulation he is gently caressing his stomach as he purrs. He can already imagine the litter of pups he will be having in a few months and how much of a happy family you all will be...
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leahsgf · 6 months
Note
hi!! could you please do a lucy fic where she looks after a younger player (like late teens age) and she gets very protective over them, like when they’re tackled badly or when interacting with fans, or maybe helps them with nightmares, any stuff like that pls
i’ve got you
lucy bronze x teen!reader
just lucy being an overprotective older sister figure to you
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lucy had been protective over you from the instant she saw you for the first time, after your call up to the senior squad. you were a little baby in comparison to the other girls, and she could sense your anxiousness - immediately taking you under her wing, and being like the older sister you never had.
to say she was fiercely protective over you was the understatement of the century, and this was something well known by everyone around you - so when you found yourself on the receiving end of a particularly rough tackle during a game, there was only one way it would go.
you weren’t entirely sure what had even happened, all you knew is that you were hit, hard, leaving you slumped on the pitch, with pain swarming your body, and blood trickling down your head.
you cried out silently as you were surrounded by your fellow teammates and medics, and everyone except the one person you needed.
alessia and georgia were crouched at your side, holding your hands and stroking your hair in an attempt to comfort you as a splint was placed around your leg, and you were being prepared to be stretchered off.
amongst the ringing noise of the crowd and the worried voices all around you, you could hear lucy’s shouts from a distance as clear as day, worrying as you could hear that she was arguing with both the ref and the opposing player as keira and leah pleaded with her to just leave it be.
“she needs you with her more than she needs you to be doing this. we’ll sort it out, just go to her. she only wants you.” keira pointed towards you.
lucy nodded, as if instantly coming to her senses at a mention of you, before rushing towards the chaos, everyone knowing to part to let her through to you.
“luce.”
you spoke in barely a murmur, yet she was next to you in an instant, as if you had screamed her name - and you visibly relaxed with her presence.
“i’m here sweetheart, i’m here. you’re gonna be okay, hm? i’ve got you.” she pressed a kiss to your head and held your hand as you were carried off the pitch, being subbed off to be with you.
-
she was there for you in other aspects of the games too, always making sure to keep an eye on you when you were meeting the waiting fans at the end of matches, knowing your struggles with anxiety and that you were still only young and relatively new to all of the attention on you.
there was one day where the shouts of your name, shirts being thrown and phones thrusted in front of your face became a little too much, and you froze - completely overwhelmed, and she was quick to be next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and guiding you towards the tunnel after thanking all of the fans for coming.
“you did great, little one. gets a bit much for us all sometimes, it’s perfectly okay to have boundaries, let’s head out - fancy a movie night?”
-
the pair of you always roomed together, as she was your unofficial guardian whilst you were on camp or away for games, and those were the moments where she saw you at your most vulnerable.
you had been plagued with nightmares from a very young age - and they worsened as your anxiety peaked.
you often woke in tears, struggling to catch your breath in the darkness, but lucy never once hesitated to comfort you, no matter the time of night or how tired she was, she’d be rubbing your back and talking you through it.
“there’s my girl, you’re doing so well. i’ve got you.”
-
i’m not sure if i’m happy with the ending but i just want to post it so i’m ending it here…
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bvidzsoo · 2 months
Text
Love Me Like A Rockstar (8)
Chapter 8: Own My Mind
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Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader
Warning: cursing
Word count: 8.3k
Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au
Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?
A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm back with a new chapter and let me tell you, ever since I've started writing this there's been little changes to the plot here and there, but...we should all thank Song Mingi for the way he's been acting this weekend for bringing a major change to it (i wanna kms ha-ha *dies in pain*) Anyways, I have a love-hate relationship with that man right now, don't mind my dramatic ass. Please listen to Maneskin's Own My Mind before or while reading this chapter, just the usual! If you want to be added to this story's taglist, just leave a comment on this post and you'll be added! Also, the drawing our girlie is talking about that is on her bed (later in this chp.), is absolutely waterbomb Mingi and it's a call-back to chp. 4 hehet. I have a surprise at the end of this chapter lol. One last question and then I'm going, should I do a Q&A surrounding this story? Like, if you have any curiosities about it, you can send in an ask and I'll gladly answer it! ^^ I hope you'll enjoy this part and, as always, let me know your thoughts about it!
Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @sharksandminhos
⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩
♫Playlist♫
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            I shivered as I hurriedly shrugged off my jacket, backpack discarded the second I stepped inside my warm home, the loud thunder cut short as Mingi quickly closed the front door behind himself, hissing and groaning. I turned my head to watch him struggle out of his worn-out jacket as I stepped out of my shoes, hardly believing that from just a few minutes out in the rain, even my socks got soaked. Mingi’s head shook as his body trembled, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched him. He looked quite hilarious with his black hair sticking to his forehead, glasses so wet he couldn’t see through them anymore, loose clothing now sticking to his lean body like a second skin.
“What’s so funny?” Mingi playfully furrowed his eyebrows as he took his specks off, shaking the water off the glass, as wiping it against his already wet clothes wouldn’t have helped him in ridding his glasses of water.
“You.” I mumbled with a chuckle as I peeled my cardigan off, skin covered in goosebumps as my damp skin was exposed to the chilly air in the hallway. Mingi rolled his eyes, and placed his glasses back on as I took off towards the wardrobe by the stairs, chewing on my bottom lip. Mingi would have to change out of his wet clothes, unless we wanted him to catch a cold. I couldn’t leave him standing there like that, shivering and sniffing as he already sneezed loudly. His apology was sheepish, but I just flashed him a small smile before opening the heavy door of the wardrobe. There were minimal chances that the box I was looking for was still inside the wardrobe, considering the fact that my mother would go on a cleaning frenzy every month and throw out almost everything inside the house that she deemed unusable anymore. Therefore, there were almost one to zero chances that the box I so vividly remember having placed here ages ago, was still in its spot.
“Uh, do you think I could use the bathroom real fast?” Mingi asked, voice sounding unsure as I kneeled down in front of the wardrobe, eyebrows furrowing when I didn’t spot the box right away.
“One second, let me find something.” I called out, leaning forward as I pushed my mother’s long coats hanging in my face out of the way, and disappeared further into the wardrobe as I pushed and pulled at the thick blankets she kept in there. I thought about giving up for a second, about her having thrown out the contents of the box I was searching for, but I gasped when I felt the sturdy cartoon underneath my fingertips. With a triumphant smile, I pulled on it, a few scarfs and my very old Hello Kitty beanie falling out in the process. The box felt heavier than I remembered it to be, and my heart settled knowing that my mother didn’t throw it out. But that didn’t mean it didn’t start beating wildly once I sat back on my heels, box placed in front of me. A chill ran down my spine, and I knew right now that it wasn’t because of the chilly air and my damp skin. Whatever still remained inside this box…is what I never had the strength to throw out, to fully get rid of every memory lingering of Yunho. I gulped, chewing on my bottom lip as I hesitated opening it up. But there was another loud sneeze, and as I briefly glanced at Mingi, I couldn’t help but notice the light red tinge on his cheeks as he typed away on his phone, completely soaked. I really had no other choice but to open up the box of pandora.
And a lump formed in my throat when I finally opened it, a stale scent hitting my nose. My eyebrows furrowed when a golden butterfly necklace sat on top of everything, a harsh reminder of all the gifts Yunho would buy for me during our relationship. I have thrown out all the gifts, except this one. It was expensive, and frankly, too beautiful to be thrown out or gifted to anyone else. Gulping, I pushed the necklace aside and sighed as I dug around the box, jaw clenching at the three sketchbooks getting in my way. They were filled with drawings of Yunho and myself, of all the places we’ve been to, of all the places I have wished to visit with Yunho. Of all the memories we have once made, and of all the memories I wished we could’ve made. Being an artist was amazing, but at certain times it was a nightmare in disguise, brain able to conjure such vivid images that never happened, that it could fool me into thinking that they have actually happened. I sighed quietly as I felt eyes on me, and finally found what I was searching for. A fuzzy and faded knitted sweater, a plethora of colors mixed together, from beige to a light purple, black and silver in the mix too. I pulled it out of the box, together with the grey sweatpants, and cleared my throat as I stood, hands burning the longer I held the clothing in my hands. I felt guilty, almost disgusting as I neared Mingi again, trying to avoid his eyes as he had an easy look on his face, smiling despite continuously sniffing.
“These are the only male clothing we have in the house,” I said as I reached my hands out, looking at Mingi’s chest rather than eyes, “hopefully they’ll fit you.”
“And if they won’t, you can always give me one of your colorful fuzzy cardigans.” Mingi’s tone was playful and I chuckled, giving him a playful glare. Those cardigans would never fit his broad shoulders. The tightness was gone from my chest as Mingi took the clothes from my grasp, a thankful look on his face. The guilt remained, but it wasn’t so pressing anymore.
“You can change in the bathroom downstairs,” I pointed towards the closed door across from the wardrobe, “towels are in the cabinet above the toilet. Do you need a hairdryer?”
Mingi shook his head with a smile and gave my soaked hair a light tap, “Thank you, Y/N.”
The way he seemed to linger on my name sent my heart into a dumb frenzy, and I found myself flustered beyond, emotion so foreign I forgot how to speak for a second. And Mingi didn’t miss it, fuck, because he walked away with a smug smile towards the bathroom and paused in the doorway for dramatic effect, before disappearing with a damn wink. I huffed, glaring daggers at the closed door as I scurried to shove everything fallen out back inside the wardrobe, closing its door rather harshly. I licked my chapped lips and raced up the stairs, throwing the door to my room open and taking a second to take in its state. My desk was messy, but that’s just how it always was, I couldn’t do much about it right now. I opened the blackout curtains, however, the weather already gloomy enough to cast shadows inside my dark room. I flinched as another thunder rumbled through the sky, and grabbed the first clothes I found in my closet, walking to the bathroom upstairs.
After having changed into wide legged leggings that had cotton on the inside, I quickly threw on a white tank top and a soft pink mock neck sweater, sighing in content as warmth finally enveloped my body after I have dried up the dampness on it with a towel. I skipped down the stairs as I had a towel around my head, messily towel drying my hair, completely missing the tall form standing at the foot of the stairs as I stumbled into him. I yelped, but Mingi quickly steadied me by the elbows. Before I had the chance to pull the towel off my head, two large hands grabbed at it and started softly rubbing the towel against my wet hair. I froze, everything inside me stopping as even my breath stilled, eyes wide open. Mingi said nothing as he continued with his actions, quietly humming to himself. I was afraid he’d be able to hear my loud heartbeat as I breathed through my mouth, lips parting as I struggled to calm down. I was thankful for the towel hiding my face, because I could feel the blush spreading down from my cheeks to my ears, and even neck. I couldn’t remember a time when I have blushed this hard, and it made me feel slightly disoriented. For God’s sake, Mingi was simply towel drying my hair for me, why was I having such a visceral reaction to it?! My mind seemed to be screaming at me, but I was too busy trying to regulate my breathing, doing so quietly, as Mingi’s hands became a little rougher, almost pulling on specific strands of hair. My eyes narrowed as he turned my head left to right to his likes, and I groaned as his fingers dug into my scalp.
“Hey, stop it!” I whined and slapped at his hand, making Mingi chuckle as he ruffled my hair to the point I had strands from the back falling into my eyes.
“Oh, good,” He was still chuckling, “for a second there I thought you had fallen asleep with how quiet you were.”
Despite not being able to see his face, or anything if I looked ahead, I could still peek down and see his feet. I was standing on the last step of the stairs, and with an evil grin, I jumped down, his naked toes falling victims to my attack. Mingi yelped loudly, and I cackled as I pulled the towel off my face, smiling at him smugly.
“Serves you right since my hair is all knotted up thanks to you.” I raised my eyebrows at him as Mingi had his right leg raised, massaging his toes with a pained expression.
“So you break my toes?!” He exclaimed, his deep tone a few octaves higher, making me snicker to myself as I threw the towel at him, making him yelp and look at me with an appalled expression on his face.
“Stop being a baby,” I stuck my tongue out at him as I walked towards the front door to lock it before I went inside the kitchen, “And wear some slippers before you come to the kitchen.”
Mingi was closely following behind me, ignoring my words, “What, one of your dwarf slippers? It’s either my toes or heels will be dangling off.”
The image was funny in my head, but I ignored it in order to throw him a scrutinizing look, “The tiles are cold in here, you’ll catch a cold.”
A wide smile spread on Mingi’s lips as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, biceps bulging underneath the tight fabric of the sweater, “You’re so cute when you worry about me, doll.”
There goes the pleasant exchange we’ve been having up until now. My voice became devoid of any expression besides the glare I threw at him, mirroring him as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I’m not cute. I’m merely saying you’ll probably catch a cold since we’ve been out in the rain not even fifteen minutes ago. And since you’re a singer you should be taking a lot more care of yourself.”
Mingi remained silent for a few seconds, until I watched a light hue tinge his cheeks. Was he blushing because I was lecturing him? Just what in the hell?!
“You’re right, sorry.” Mingi mumbled, but showed no intentions of actually following through with my words as he walked further inside the room, sitting at the table, feet up on the chair as he hugged his long legs to his chest. For such a tall and broad man, he looked extremely tiny sitting on that chair right now.
“Uh,” A little confused by the turn of events, I looked around the kitchen, trying to remember the initial purpose of me coming here, “Right. You don’t like tea, so we have coffee or hot chocolate to warm us up, which one would you like?”
Mingi’s eyes lingered on me for a second too long, taking in my whole being before his eyes settled on my face again, a smile so genuine settling on his lips that his eyes were sparkling, “Hot chocolate is fine.”
I hummed, a little breathless, then turned to open the cabinet above the microwave to take out two tall mugs for the hot chocolate. For some reason, I didn’t mind Mingi’s eyes following my every move as I tinkered around in my kitchen, taking everything I needed in my hands to prepare them on the counter. The thought of having Mingi inside my home, sitting in my kitchen, wearing my ex’s clothes, acting like we’ve been friends since forever seemed to hit me at once as I froze for a second while pouring water inside the second mug, Mingi’s mug. And what was even more surprising was not finding any thoughts that suggested that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this, that Mingi didn’t belong inside my kitchen. I didn’t want to dwell more on why it all felt so right, so instead, I watched as the mugs whirled around in the microwave, locking these thoughts away for later…I knew they’d come back late at night to haunt me, it’s just how it always was.
Mingi clearing his throat gained my attention as I glanced back at him, and tried not to look too long. The way Yunho’s clothes perfectly fit Mingi’s form was alarming, albeit the sweatpants seemed to be slightly too long for Mingi. I’ve had Yunho’s clothes since highschool, which was a few good years ago, yet they still fit Mingi. It made me wonder if the two ever exchanged clothes or wore something matching, like best friends would do for fun. I know Yunho had once mentioned having matching rings with Mingi, but back then I was too jealous about their closeness to ask any further questions about any other matching items they had. And it was a little surprising just how well Mingi’s skin tone was complimented by the colors of Yunho’s old sweater, Mingi’s necklaces sitting on top of the knitted fabric. That sweater was one of my favorite’s while Yunho and I were dating, Yunho always seemed to be glowing when he wore it. At some point I had even forgotten that I still had it. Perhaps I should do something about the contents of that box, join my mother next month in her frenzy cleaning marathon and throw out its contents.
The microwave pinged and I took the two mugs out, realizing that Mingi and I had been staring at each other for at least a good minute, my cheeks flushed again. A soft chuckle was heard behind me, but I ignored it for my own sake. The silence didn’t last for longer as I opened the little packages containing the hot chocolate powder to pour into our cups, “This might sound crazy, but I swear I’ve seen this exact sweater on Yunho quite a few times.”
I froze, thankful that I had my back to Mingi as panic flashed over my face. Deep breaths, I had this. Mingi didn’t have to know, I could lie my way out of this. And so, I forced a small smile on my face as I faced him while walking to the fridge, “Really? Well, coincidence, maybe. It’s my cousin’s sweater, he forgot it here once, but as he lives overseas he never came to get it and my mother just placed it away for when he comes to visit us.”
I didn’t have one single male cousin. Let alone cousin’s that lived overseas.
“Oh,” Mingi mumbled as he picked at an undone string on the sleeve of Yunho’s sweater, “Yeah, that could be it, a coincidence, I mean. Besides, my memory is a little fuzzy, I might be wrong.”
I gulped away the guilt that suddenly bloomed in my chest and grabbed the whipped cream, raising it up, “Whipped cream for your hot chocolate?”
I grinned at Mingi as he slowly shook his head, “I drink it simple.”
“Really?” I asked surprised as I walked back to the mugs, “Not even with marshmallows?”
Mingi shook his head with a small smile and so I mixed his powder with the warm water, handing it to him. Mingi had a fond smile on his lips when he took it, his cold fingers lightly brushing against mine, making me blush like a stupid schoolgirl who has a crush. And I do not have a crush on anyone, let alone on Song Mingi. I swiftly turned around, hoping that Mingi didn’t notice me blushing as I quickly put whipped cream in my hot chocolate and stuck two marshmallows in it, putting everything away quickly. I turned to face him as I took a sip, leaning against the counter. Mingi sat in a cross-legged position on the chair as he had the mug in his hands, ring clad fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic. I couldn’t help myself as my eyes lingered on his painted nails, slowly trailing up to Mingi’s face. His black fluffy hair fell in his eyes, obscuring his sharp eyes slightly as they were devoid of the black eyeliner now, a few blemishes tainting his otherwise glowing skin around his jaw, glasses slipping low on his tall nose, and plump lips red and slightly wet from how much Mingi always licks his lips. The simplicity of his whole being has never looked more attractive than right now, and as Mingi opened his mouth to say something, I was startled by such alarming thoughts, and so I hurried out of the kitchen.
“Let’s go up to my room!” I called out, on the brink of crying from all these stupid emotions I was suddenly feeling, trying to calm my crazily beating heart. Who allowed my brain to think in such way of Song Mingi? When did I even start considering him attractive? He was annoying, obnoxiously loud, arrogant and irritating, there was absolutely nothing to like about him or find in him attractive. I had to get a grip of myself right now! Mingi’s footsteps were dull as he followed after me, probably surprised that I had waited for him at the top of the stairs, unknowing of the storm inside my head, matching the raging storm outside. Lightning flashed every two seconds, skies rumbling with thunder, shaking even the ground at times. I hated storms, but suddenly it wasn’t as unbearable as before. When Mingi stood next to me, I lead us towards my room and pushed the door open, leaving it like that as Mingi walked in once I stepped aside for him, allowing him inside my safe space.
I have never been consciously proud or embarrassed of what my room looked like, the thought of what others thought of it absent up until right now. As Mingi walked further inside, head turning each and every way, taking everything in, suddenly I realized I was scared of what he would think. My walls were painted a light grey, on purpose, and there was little to no space left bare except for the wall on which the window was. My bed was pushed up against the wall to your left just as you walked inside, sketches that I have done throughout the years plastered up and put on display, my very first drawing even making it up on my wall. It was my little personal museum, a way of reminding myself of where I started out and how much I have evolved ever since, and even how much I was still changing as I was experimenting with my styles, learning a new technique in the class of Mr. Yoon. The desk across from my bed was messy, like I have said, it was littered with everything I needed to have at hand. Pencil holders filled to the brim, at least five of them, then there were brushes and little paint tubes littered all over it, notebooks and discarded sketches sitting underneath it, with my laptop hanging just a little dangerously off, not having paid much attention where I have put it this morning. A plain canvas was spread out on the little free space I still had, a project I had planned on starting today, now postponed for tomorrow. The wall above my desk had three modest shelves filled to the brim with books and some vinyl’s I have started collecting not long ago, pots and plants hanging off from the sides. The wall around the shelves was decorated by posters and pictures of my favorite bands, a few of my favorite paintings mixing in with them. The little stand next to my desk had my vinyl player, plants underneath it and around it, little ones. And then in the corner there was an old guitar that once had belonged to my mother, who has had a phase back in highschool and dreams of becoming a band member, famous and rich. She didn’t have the heart to gift the guitar to anyone, so she’s always kept it and passed it on to me once I was old enough. I never had an affinity for playing any instruments, but I do enjoy good music. A mix of old and new artists making it in that mix, actually—perhaps Noir Zenith slowly becoming one of them too, but Mingi didn’t have to know that. My closet was to the right just as you walked in, and it was of dark and sturdy wood, expanding from the ceiling to the floor. I had a little mirror right on its right side, the wall above and behind it, going right behind the door even, littered with my favorite painter’s paintings. Of course, they were only prints made at the local copy shop, but that didn’t matter. Fairy lights hung above my bed and from the lamp on the ceiling. The two nightstands on either side of my bed were more organized than one would expect from me, little makeup buckets placed on the one closest to the window, charger cable and some headphones sitting on the dark wood. The one nearest to the door had pictures of myself and my mom, and of Seulgi and I on display with a little clock, its drawer so filled with notebooks that I couldn’t quite close it. Thankfully the drawers of my desk weren’t so filled, I had just rearranged them last week, one evening when I was too restless to sleep.
Mingi was quiet as his mouth was slightly open, eyes wide as he took everything in, eyes falling onto my bed. I followed his sight and was mortified to find my biggest sketchbook open and displaying a quite realistic sketch of Mingi performing on stage. It was from the night I had a breakdown and Mingi found me in that diner. Seulgi had sent me some pictures she had taken of Wooyoung and accidentally slipped in one with Mingi too, and because the image just wouldn’t leave my mind, I knew I had no choice but to draw it. I dived for the sketchbook as if my life depended on it, all of it happening so fast I hoped Mingi didn’t actually catch what the drawing—or better said, who—the drawing was of. I shut it closed and pushed it off the bed, the light thud loud in the silent room. When I turned to look at Mingi, ready to face his smug face and taunting words, I was surprised to find his attention on something completely different. Of course, I should’ve expected from a man who plays in a band to be enamored by the vintage guitar in my possession. Its body was a light blue and had cherry blossoms painted over it, something my mother admitted to doing so, which lead to an argument with her father back in the days when he had seen the “damage” my mother had done to the pricey guitar.
“Is that a Martin D-19?” Mingi gushed as he walked toward the guitar, mouth hanging open. My eyebrows raised at his knowledge about it upon one glance. To me, it looked like a regular acoustic guitar. But then again, I should’ve expected it from a music major and a guy who has a literal band and plays the bass.
“Yeah, it was my mother’s.” I answered as I set my mug on the nightstand and sat at the edge of my bed, watching the awed expression on Mingi’s face. He had placed his mug by the foot of my desk as he crouched down, admiring the guitar from up-close.
“It’s absolutely beautiful.” Mingi whispered, fingers carefully tracing its body. Not even at gun point would I have admitted my next thought, which was of just how beautiful Mingi looked in this exact moment. Lightning flashed and the ground shook with the intense thunder, making Mingi tense for a second before he turned back to face me with the prettiest smile I have ever seen on someone.
“Your mother knows how to play it?” He asked, sounding enthusiastic. I was breathless, but after a big gulp, I forced my brain to function.
“Yeah,” I answered with a small smile, “she was a big rock lover back in the days, even wanted to start her own band. But due to her parents negative reactions to it, she unfortunately had to give up on that dream and do something more ‘real’.”
I rolled my eyes at the end of my sentence, not very fond of my grandparents. They weren’t bad people, but they also treated my mother harshly, and even myself, always asking about my future plans and straight up crying when I told them I wanted to become a painter. I saw the way Mingi’s face hardened for a second, but I knew he didn’t want to talk about it as he became expressionless quickly after. I was curious what made his mood become sour so quickly, if he perhaps related to what I have said in some way, but I wouldn’t prod. If he wants to tell me, he will sometime. So, instead, as a distraction, I scooched up further on my bed and patted the mattress next to me with a lazy smile, watching Mingi’s eyes slightly widen. He looked a little shy as he grabbed his mug and rose up to his full height, steps almost hesitant as he approached the bed, making me snort. It made Mingi narrow his eyes as I crossed my legs underneath myself as he kneeled on the bed and then settled beside me, long legs extended as he playfully wiggled his feet left and right. I chuckled as I clasped my hands together, letting them rest in my lap as Mingi took a sip of his hot chocolate. The silence was comfortable between us, the harsh rain hitting the windows loudly, wind rocking trees harshly, and the lightning and rumble a constant background noise.
“Last time when we performed at Outlaw, when you didn’t come,” Mingi paused and turned his head to look at me, “you know, when we met at the diner—”
“Let’s not talk about that.” I muttered with a grimace and Mingi hummed, licking his lips.
“Right, so, that night,” His voice was quiet, lips pulling into an abashed smile, “the crowd was bigger than usual, at first I blamed it on being a rowdier night, but it turned out those people were there to see us, Noir Zenith, to see me.”
I felt a small smile appear on my own lips, Mingi looking pleased with himself despite the light pink tinge of his cheeks, “And now Hongjoong might help us sign with a record deal, I feel like everything is finally coming together. Like my hard work is finally being rewarded.”
I bit my lower lip to stop myself from smiling too wide, subconsciously reaching out to hold Mingi’s arm as he looked me in the eyes, “That’s so good, Mingi! You deserve all the praise and attention your band gets, you’re really good.”
“You really think so?” Mingi sounded small, eyes wide in wonder as he flushed more. I knew I have said some things that weren’t the nicest, and now it made me realize that Mingi never deserved hearing those things from me. Yeah, I didn’t like the guy much at the beginning—not that now I like him more—but I still shouldn’t have shit on his music, on something he pours his whole soul and heart into.
“I really do, Mingi.” I slightly squeezed his arm, hoping that he could hear the sincerity in my voice as a wide and bright smile spread onto Mingi’s plush lips, so contagious that I found myself with a matching smile on my own lips. I chuckled, for some reason not wanting to release his arm just yet, the knitted sweater soft and warm under my touch.
“Lovely seeing you slowly turn into my number one fan, doll.” Of course, trust Mingi to ruin the moment. My eyes narrowed as I sighed loudly, slowly shaking my head. Mingi chuckled before taking a large gulp of his not so hot anymore chocolate, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Now, don’t get cocky.” I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand off his arm, watching as his eyes lingered where I have touched him, “I can recognize good work without becoming your fan.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mingi mused playfully and I scoffed, bumping my shoulder into his before I went to retrieve my laptop from my desk, “Seonghwa and Wooyoung want us to try out new genres.”
“Really?” I asked surprised as I settled back in my previous spot, knee brushing against Mingi’s thigh, “Like what?”
“Well, nothing specific, just something little softer.” Mingi pursed his lips, fiddling with the mug in his hands, “Maybe something more indie rock.”
“I love indie rock,” I muttered absentmindedly as I powered on my laptop, “and why are you reluctant?”
Mingi seemed surprised that I had caught on, but it was quite obvious in his tone that he didn’t sound very enthusiastic about it, “Because my voice is rough and raw, unlike Seonghwa’s who’s smooth and almost angelic, and Wooyoung’s who’s can reach pitches I can only dream of and has a roughness that is absolutely soft at the same time, alluring.”
“Your voice is deep and powerful, it conveys every single emotion you’re feeling when you sing, Mingi. Your raspy tone alone tells a story, even without speaking the same language I would understand what you’re singing about. But just because it’s rougher and more powerful compared to Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful and enchanting, Mingi.” Occupied with typing in the password to my laptop, I failed to notice the way Mingi’s breaths became shallow, the way his eyes bore into the side of my skull, “I think your voice is unique and desirable, you should be proud of it and not look down on yourself because of it. Many wish to have what you have, so really, don’t think any less of yourself because you think Seonghwa and Wooyoung are somehow better and more alluring. It’s not true, each one of you has their charm and well…I think you’re the most charming out of the three of you.”
I didn’t expect the expression on Mingi’s face when I turned my head to look at him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were glazed over as his sharp eyes watched me intently, his breaths loud as his cheeks were red. My eyebrows furrowed, and for a second I worried I have made him angry, but the longer I looked, I realized the look in his eyes had nothing to do with anger. I gulped and averted my eyes, suddenly feeling my heart race again, biting my lower lip and trying to ignore the overbearing proximity between us. It was only our knee and thigh touching, yet it felt like Mingi was all over me, his scent still strong despite having changed out of his clothes and getting soaked by the rain. He always had a sharp scent surround him; it reminded me of pine trees.
“Thank you.” At last, Mingi found his voice and it was lower than before, goosebumps covered my skin as the low baritone of it traveled through my body. I nodded once in acknowledgement, not trusting my voice as I went on the internet to search for some movies to watch and pass the time while we wait for the storm to pass. If it passes, “Do you think rapping would fit my tone?”
It was an unexpected question, but as I mulled over it, I concluded that Mingi had the perfect timbre to both sing and rap, “Yeah, I think it would.”
I dared to take a peek at Mingi from the corner of my eyes, and was relieved to find the intensity gone from his face, instead, a soft smile grazed his lips as he finished his hot chocolate. He leaned back and placed his empty mug next to mine on the nightstand and fished his phone out of his pocket, “I found some old videos of me at school plays, let’s see what my music genius bestie thinks of them.”
I rolled my eyes, but nevertheless peered over Mingi’s shoulder in curiosity, “Don’t make fun of me, I’m merely stating something that someone with not musically trained ears hear. You should be more thankful.”
“I’m more than thankful, Y/N.” Mingi suddenly turned his head, our faces too close for comfort, so I quickly leaned back as he placed his arm on my thigh and pressed play on a video he pulled up from his gallery.
『Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?
Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?
Do you wanna know what the good, good, bad things all feel like?
Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?』
            The movie of my choice was simple, The Quiet Ones. Nothing better than something a little spooky while there’s a wild storm raging outside, but to my utter surprise, Mingi looked terrified after only ten minutes of watching it. We were both leaning against the headboard of my bed, pillows behind our backs, and laptop placed between our lower bodies as our legs were stretched out. And despite the laptop being between us, Mingi’s shoulder pressed against mine not even five minutes after settling in our current spots. Trying to watch the horror movie, which was one of my favorite movie’s, turned out to be a fail, and I had no choice but to give in to Mingi as he only stopped whining when he got what he wanted. And that was watching a rom-com from the nineties, called 10 Things I Hate About You. I’ve seen it numerous times already, but it never gets old. There is something about the way the actors play their parts, and the plot too, that have me coming back to it with the same enthusiasm I had for it when watching it for the first time. At first, I thought Mingi hadn’t seen it and had only went along with my suggestion because he didn’t know what else to watch, but when he started quoting Patrick’s lines as if he were the character himself, I narrowed my eyes at him and poked his arm. After some painful jabs, he admitted that it was his favorite movie and he regularly rewatched it, especially if he was in a bad mood. That was a piece of information I wasn’t expecting from someone like Mingi. He looked like a guy who enjoyed tough and brutal movies, with the occasional romance movies if a pretty girl begged him to watch it together. Turns out, Mingi’s favorite genre is romance, and he hates horror, and depends on the type of thriller whether he likes it or not.
We found ourselves joking and laughing throughout the movie, making our own commentary about it after our first disagreement. Which was about whether Patrick accepting the money to charm Kat was right or wrong. Of course, it was very wrong to play with someone’s feelings and get paid for it too, but Mingi argued that if he never accepted it, then him and Kat would’ve never gotten together. And for that, I threw in the hypothetical scenario of him accepting money from Wooyoung so that he could take me out on a date and make me fall in love with him if that meant Wooyoung could have Seulgi date him. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and he declined such scenario, exactly proving my point why this was so wrong then, but he remained believing that for Kat and Patrick it totally worked out. And then he had the audacity to compare my stubbornness to Kat’s, making me call him just as stupid as Patrick was.
Time flew by as our laughter got louder, completely missing the way the rain had started to quiet down as we were immersed in the movie we were watching. It felt like a bubble was wrapped around us, isolating us from the cold world, and letting us enjoy ourselves without being so cautious of what we were saying. It felt nice. I couldn’t remember a time when I was able to let loose with someone other than Seulgi. It was a nice feeling, it made me excited in some way, completely making me forget that I was doing this with Mingi. He made it too easy to forget my worries and made me feel really comfortable all of a sudden, never stepping out of line—if we ignore his stupid flirting—and always keeping everything lighthearted. It was a nice change for once.
I groaned as I let my head fall back, lips pursed as my ass had gone numb from sitting so much in one place. Mingi snickered as Kat reversed into Joey’s car, clearly amused by the snarky remarks exchanged between the two characters. He was clearly into the witty exchanges, especially between Patrick and Kat, even having said that it makes Kat attractive how quickly and well she can shut Patrick down. I had told him that she wouldn’t have to do that if Patrick wasn’t so stupid most of the time, making Mingi roll his eyes at me, and say that I simply didn’t appreciate some good banter. Which wasn’t even true, I liked bantering if it had a smart purpose, not just to rile each other up, what was the point of that?
I licked my lips as my head lulled to the right, eyes falling on Mingi’s profile as he had his legs up, leaning forward as he hugged them around his knees with one arm. He was smiling and chuckling, pretty red lips pulled to the side, showing off his white teeth. His brows were dark, and his browbone being more prominent really sharpened his face in a very aesthetically pleasing way. Mingi’s face was very beautiful, and as an artist, I couldn’t help but admire it, and recognize it. So many pretty portraits of his face could be made, pity he doesn’t model. My lips pulled into a tiny smile at the thought of him modelling for me when we had to sketch human forms for our next class. I’m sure my professor would appreciate my drawings even more. Mingi’s glasses were discarded, and my eyes paused on his long nose, biting my lower lip just as Mingi chuckled again, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He sniffed before rubbing two fingers against his plump lips, wetting them not even a second later. I gulped as I suddenly wondered what they would taste like. It was such a startling thought that I jumped, but Mingi suddenly looking at me certainly scared me more. I gulped, instantly blushing as a friendly smile painted Mingi’s lips as he leaned back, placing his head on the pillow, and letting it roll to the left. Our gazes connected, and I wasn’t surprised to find my heart beating so quickly once again, my lips pulling into a straight line as I struggled to keep my breathing even. Mingi’s easy smile didn’t disappear as his eyes racked over my face, it only became wider.
There was a whole galaxy behind those beautiful deep brown eyes of his, they sparkled with life and an excitement I haven’t seen in anyone before. I wished that I could recreate that in my drawings, but I wasn’t good enough to give simple eyes such deep emotions yet. And I really wished I was able to do so, because the longer I stared into Mingi’s eyes, the more lost I got in them, thoughts and worries disappearing into nothingness. Mingi’s hand twitched for a second and I tensed when I felt a finger gently poking my cold hand. I gulped, but I wasn’t able to look away as ever so softly more fingers brushed against my skin like feather, Mingi’s bottom lip between his teeth. His actions were slow and cautious, probably afraid that I would pull away, but I was too captured by his alluring gaze to even think to move away from him. Slowly, his longer fingers intertwined with mine and his rings cut into my skin when I squeezed his hand, uncaring that it hurt a bit. I knew my cheeks were now surely very red, but I couldn’t actually be bothered to feel embarrassed, not when Mingi’s cheeks were dusted pink as well. His high cheekbones were flushed the pretties color they could have been, and I smiled as Mingi blinked, looking abashed. Somehow no words had to be exchanged between us, everything felt comfortable, scarily familiar. I haven’t felt like this…since my ex. And not even with him have I felt so safe and understood, it always seemed like there was some invisible barrier between us, and I never understood why. With Mingi, if I allowed myself to feel and be unafraid, no barrier lay between the two of us.
I gulped, eyes suddenly falling on Mingi’s lips as his tongue poked out just slightly to wet them, his plump lips red and full. I’ve never seen a person have such full lips, and it made me wonder if they were as soft as one would imagine them be. Aware that my eyes were glued to Mingi’s lips, I looked back up in his eyes, trying to ignore how insanely attractive his mole right underneath it made him look. There was something about Mingi’s bareface that was so charming and beautiful that it almost made me feel jealous of it. Mingi sniffed quietly, and his bottom lip was between his teeth again as his eyes fell to my lips, my rapid heartbeat halting for a second. Could he be having similar thoughts to mine? I wouldn’t know, but when Mingi’s eyes found mine again, they were just slightly more intense and sharper. Like he was determined and nothing could stop him. I gulped loudly as he moved his head, just lightly, but it was closer than before. My heart was beating like crazy, but almost as if I was under a spell, I found myself shifting my head just a little bit closer. Mingi’s eyes no longer were on mine, and as my lips parted when I licked them, I felt Mingi’s hand squeeze mine just a little bit more. I gulped as I proceeded to lean even closer, my eyes fixated on Mingi’s lips now too, just wondering and wondering infinitely if they were warm, soft, wet, and what they would taste like. I didn’t startle nor flinch when Mingi angled his body so that he could lean dangerously close, the bridge of his nose brushing against mine. His hot breath mingled with mine as our lips were parted, a pull so magnetic I couldn’t untangle myself from it even if I tried to. My eyes threatened to flutter closed as I pressed my nose against his, the side of our lips rubbing just a little together as I couldn’t breathe regularly anymore. Mingi’s lips pressed ever so slightly against the corner of mine, feather like, and it suddenly wasn’t enough. The distance, it was too big—even if it didn’t even exist between us anymore—and I squeezed his hand as I angled my head to finally press our lips together, Mingi’s breaths audible due to our proximity.
But suddenly, a door was slammed shut loudly, “Sweetheart, I made it home finally! I saw a car parked in front of our house, all’s good?!”
The curious and shrill voice of my mother sent Mingi and I flying away from each other, both of our eyes wide as I was panting, my whole body burning. I couldn’t look at Mingi as I scrambled to press pause on the movie and Mingi was off the bed in a flash, sprinting towards my window. I could still feel his hot puffs against my face, and I gulped as I forced myself to forget everything I felt just seconds ago.
“The rain stopped,” Mingi’s voice was hoarse, so gravely that I had to clench my fists to stop myself from doing something I would regret, “I will be going.”
“I’ll go downstairs, let my mom know you’re here.” My voice wasn’t better off, I sounded breathless. I felt lightheaded as I got off the bed, standing and pausing for a second.
“Right, I’ll change back into my clothes and then—”
“No,” I didn’t mean to sound desperate as Mingi’s eyes fell on me, I had to look away in embarrassment, “keep them, they are of no use to me.”
“Right.” Mingi cleared his throat and I quickly walked past him, thankful that he stepped aside, and hurried out of my room and down the stairs. I took a deep breath to compose myself as I heard my mother placing down plastic bags in the kitchen. I needed to behave like everything was fine, when nothing was fine anymore.
“Hi!” My greeting was high pitched and way too cheery, my mother’s eyes narrowed when she saw me standing in the doorway, “Glad you made it home, the storm was awful.”
“It really was.” My mom grimaced as she continued unpacking the groceries, “You got home alright?”
“Yeah, uhm, actually,” I gulped and bit my lower lip as I heard Mingi coming down the stairs, “a friend from university drove me home as it was already raining, and he, uhm, stayed over. Because the rain was so bad he wouldn’t have been able to drive home. You know, safety measures and all.”
My mother paused and looked up at me with both of her eyebrows raised, “He?”
And on cue, Mingi appeared next to me, glasses pushed up on his nose adequately for once and hair not as messy as before, “Hello, my name is Song Mingi.”
“Nice to meet you, dear.” My mother’s eyes were glinting, looking way too happy for someone who was just introducing themselves. I was afraid of what would come, so, I grabbed Mingi’s arm and guided him towards the coat hanger.
“Mingi’s leaving, mom.” I said as I let go of his arm, averting my eyes as he wore his shoes and pulled on his jacket.
“Already?” My mom asked with a pout, coming to stand in the doorway, “Don’t you want to stay for dinner, dear?”
Mingi froze, eyes first finding mine before he looked at my mother with a polite smile, “Don’t worry, Mrs—”
“Oh, don’t be all formal with me, I hate that shit.” My mother chuckled and winked at him, “Call me Boyoung.”
Mingi gulped, seemingly taken aback by my mother’s behavior. I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, knowing how surprising the contrast between my mother’s personality and mine was. Sadly, I haven’t taken after her when it comes to my attitude, but that’s fine.
“Well, Boyoung, thank you for your offer, but my friends and I actually agreed on dining out tonight.” Mingi’s excuse sounded real, so I knew he wasn’t lying. I gulped when my mother threw me a very slick glare, almost saying that this was my fault. I rolled my eyes, offended by her assumption.
“That’s a pity, dear,” My mother pouted, but soon a bright smile appeared on her lips, “But you are invited for whenever you feel like having dinner with us, right, my starlight?”
I tried not to glare at my mother for the outrageous nickname, especially when I saw Mingi’s lips twitch in amusement. I told her not to call me that in front of others so many times, “Right, mom.”
My mother chuckled, all too aware of my dislike for the nickname, before her eyes landed on Mingi again. There was a brief pause, one too awkward for my liking, and then Mingi was clearing his throat and opening the front door.
“Uh,” He made eye contact with me briefly, “talk to you later.”
“Wait,” My mother’s eyebrows furrowed as Mingi stepped outside, trying to adjust the strap of his backpack, “Aren’t those Yun—”
“Talk to you later!” I loudly said, making sure to send my mother a very alarmed look as Mingi froze for a second before he hummed quietly and took off towards his car.
The air was chilly and humid due to the harsh rain, and as I closed the front door, I knew I had a lot of questions to answer when my eyes fell on my mother’s amused face.
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❱❱ Next chapter
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lol, this is the surprise I mentioned...I saw this post and it would just not leave my mind, besides, I think it's very fitting for our plot, no?
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dumplingsfordays · 9 months
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tutoring sessions
Dan Heng x fem!reader
genre - smut
summary - your tutor (and friend) gets a little hot under the collar after you tease him, and things escalate a little (by a little I mean a lot).
cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), friends to (implied) partners, oral (dan heng receiving), praise, virgin!reader, virgin!dan heng, all characters 18+, kinda subby dan heng (he's also very vocal hehe), voyeurism kinda, reader is referred to as 'good/pretty girl' but that's really it for gendered language, implied that dan heng's still v thirsty for reader once the fic ends 👀
note - this is my first smut fic so I'm sorry if this is badly written 😭😭 dan heng might be a little ooc but I'll just roll w it... I was working on a fluff version of this but I accidentally posted the draft and I couldn't un-post it so I'm crying rn it was so long too-
and as always, thank you for reading :)
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
"And today's topic..." the raven-haired man flips to a page in the calculus textbook that he's holding, "is mathematical induction."
"That sounds super hard!" you sigh playfully. "Can we please do something else?"
"Sum and product identities?"
"No!"
"How about-" he flips further, "-sigma notation?"
"Also sounds super hard."
"But it isn't."
"You say that everytime!"
"We do have to start somewhere, though," he remarks with a small smile.
For a split second, you remember where this whole thing actually started. Ah yes, your room, six months ago... when your parents hired him and you came downstairs to find a complete stranger your age sitting at the dinner table. You remember being confused about what classes you shared with him - he did seem familiar in a way, so you just assumed that you had some shared classes. Back then, he was very quiet, very low-profile, and look at him now! Talkative, compassionate, cheeky (only sometimes), kind... if you really excelled in English class, then you might've called him a bloomed flower or something else of the sort. He looks so different now, though - you don't know if it's the chill of the night air that's trickling through the open window by your desk, or the soft, mellow glow of the fairy lights strung up around your room, or if it's just your stupidly big crush on him... it's probably the latter, now that you think about it.
"Well, I don't want to start anything." You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, relishing in the way that you can practically feel his mock-disappointed gaze on you.
"I guess we'll end the sessions here then," he sighs. You weren't sure if he was kidding or not - something about his tone hinted that he wasn't, so, not really thinking it through, you spring back forward to the table and cup your face in your hands with your elbows on your desk. You look up at him in desperation.
"There's no need to do that," you pout, "I just don't feel like doing anything, you know?"
"Come on, let's just finish at least one lesson today," Dan Heng urges, leaning in a little as he does. He smiles encouragingly and pats your back, but you're still not planning on giving in to the agony of work.
"Why do we have to do that, though?" you whine, now folding your arms on your desk and laying your head down on them. It's now his turn to lean back in his chair.
"Okay, so what are you lacking in right now?" he asks, running a hand through his hair to get some wild strands out of his eyes. "Why don't you want to do anything today?" You hate yourself for the fact that you felt your face redden at his action.
"Lack motivation, probably," you bury your face in your arms now, trying to hide the prominent blush on your cheeks.
You hear him hum - a low, pleasant sound. "Motivation..."
As you hear seconds tick by on the clock across the room, your heartbeat calms down and just as you're sure that the redness covering your face and the tips of your ears has faded-
"Just be a good girl and if we get through at least one topic tonight, you'll get a reward. Is that good enough motivation for you?"
You tremble at his voice. It's persuasive and smooth and deep and makes something deep inside of your stomach flutter - was he messing with you? Did he know about you having a crush on him and was teasing you?
You tilt your head to look at him and instantly regret it. He's leaning in so much that you can feel small breaths of air escaping him as he breathes, his eyes trained on yours.
Then he leans back again and smiles, still keeping eye contact, while you, wide-eyed, bewildered, gawk at him.
"Just kidding." The audacity to say that! After you thought that he was flirting and actually took it seriously! Oh, you just had to get revenge.
"No, no, I'll do it," you raise your brows in defiance, a cheeky smile dancing on your lips. "I'll be a good girl."
This does him in. Now he's the blubbering fool, mouth opening and closing like a fish's, trying to process what you said. The fact that you could make Dan Heng, the least expressive person you've ever met, turn into a tomato from just a simple sentence was extremely satisfying.
"You don't have to," he stammers. In a few quick movements he's back at the table, arms folded in his lap. You notice that they're not relaxed, no, his hands are balled up into white-knuckled fists - should you really keep on teasing?
Immediately, you decide that yes, you should.
"But I want to."
For a split second you think that you heard something, maybe a faint meow from a stray cat or a little creak of the walls, but then you realize that the sound came from a much closer origin. Dan Heng, at this point, is tense all over - you can see his jaw clench and his fists growing tighter, nails probably leaving small white crescents in his skin. He's doubled over, too, like he has a stomachache. At this, you immediately feel regret, and all the seductiveness and sass from your voice vanishes in an instant, replaced with concern.
"You okay?"
"Yes," he says, still avoiding eye contact, "Yes, I'm good- can I just go to the bathroom for a sec?"
"Are you..?" You trail off, scared to finish your sentence at the possible implications. He swallows thickly and stands up, trying his best to cover his problem with his shirt, and just as he's about to exit your room-
"You can stay, if you want to..."
He slowly turns his head around, totally stunned at your words.
"I mean," you babble nervously, "my parents are still home, and there's a chance that they'll see your- um, friend, and..."
Before you can internally slap yourself for letting your mouth run like a river, he swivels around fully and his hand leaves the doorknob.
"You're sure?" he whispers.
"Only if you are," you reply, looking directly into his eyes, and Dan Heng awkwardly trudges back over to sit beside you on your bed, a blush dusting his face.
"I don't really know how to start," he admits, "I've never really... you know."
"Me neither," you reply with a nervous chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. "I mean, if you're up to it, I guess we can start with, um, kissing, or something..."
As if on cue, he leans towards you, cupping your cheek in his hand, and your eyes close as your lips touch.
It's your first kiss, too, so you don't really have anything to go off of, but this kiss makes your knees weak and you press your hands against his broad chest, seeking stability. He wraps his other hand around your waist at this action and as the kiss deepens, his lips travel down your jaw and to your neck, eventually coming to rest on your collarbone, where he plants another kiss and leans further into your touch.
You, meanwhile, reach for the tent in his sweatpants and start to rub it though the fabric, eliciting a whine from the larger man. He bucks up into your palm, desperate for more friction, and raises his lips to the shell of your ear, whimpering and quietly gasping in overwhelming pleasure. His large hands finally settle on your waist and his fingers dig into your skin as you continue your ministrations and smile into his shoulder.
"Please," he begs softly, "need to feel you 'round me."
He didn't need to tell you twice as you immediately get the hint and drop down to your knees in front of him. You hook a finger over the band of his sweatpants, tugging at it while looking up at Dan Heng with pleading, wide eyes.
He mutters an expletive when he lifts his hips up, cheeks reddening every second that passes, and as the clothes pool around his ankles, you can see the outline of his thick cock through the material of his boxers.
You decide to tease him (again, and you will never get tired of it because his reactions are way too cute to stop) and glide your fingers over the bulge, at which he squirms, but doesn't dare to take his eyes off of yours.
His hips rise again, and another article of clothing is shed, but this time his lower half is completely naked, so you finally get to see what he's been packing in there.
It's gorgeous compared to the ones that you've seen online. It's standing at attention, slightly twitching whenever your hot breath meets the tip. Dan Heng sees your eyes widen and swallows nervously as you subconsciously lick your lips.
"Is it not...?" he trails off, eyebrows furrowed.
You shake your head, still mesmerized. "No, no, it's very pretty."
He whines when you lean closer to it, eventually bringing it to rest against your cheek. You look up at the man as your hand wraps around its base and you hum at how warm it is.
"You ready?" you ask. You're rubbing your thighs together at this point - his half-lidded eyes, red, swollen lips parted in a sigh, and cheeks dusted with pink elicit a reaction from you like no erotic content ever could.
"Yes- yes, (y/n), please, need you so much, please," he gasps desperately, hands reaching to his sides and grabbing the blanket underneath him. You fulfill his request with a light kiss to the red tip of his now-leaking cock (at which a whimper escapes his lips and he almost bucks up) and take it into your mouth.
His long fingers weave through your hair at the back of your head in an attempt to feel more of you - you then moan, sending delicious vibrations to his cock which throbs in appreciation.
"You're s'warm," Dan Heng hisses through his teeth above you, tears about to fall from his watery eyes, "so, so tight, fuck! Such a good girl f'me, yeah-"
You take more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as his tip hits the back of your throat. Your gag reflex activates and your throat constricts - the raven-haired man above you nearly chokes at the feeling while you drag your lips off of his cock.
"'M sorry," you whisper as you slowly stroke it, feeling it pulse in your soft hands.
"Don't be, that was - ah - felt so good," he pants. "You okay, though?"
"Yeah, 'm all right... can we continue, though?"
"Please."
You stop stroking it and attempt to fit it all in once more, sharp gasps coming from the man above you. You almost reach the base, but his tip prods against the back of your throat so you have no choice but to suck it, bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Rogue specks of your saliva land on it just to pool on your lips as they hungrily come back down his shaft.
He's arching his back from the pleasure, applying a little pressure to your head to guide it in a steady rhythm. His hips start bucking up faster and faster as he gets close to his orgasm - he's shaking his head, screwing shut his eyes as deep, throaty groans are ripped from his chest.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck... doin' so well, pretty girl - ah! - makin' me feel s'good, yeah? 'M gonna cum, baby, just keep - fuck - suckin' me off like that like a good girl, please, fuck, please-"
Eventually he can't take it anymore. His hips are now wildly thrusting up into your mouth, lower abs flexing at the movements, he's panting, drooling, and crying all at the same time - it's so overwhelming and it feels so amazing that he cums with a single, broken moan.
Dan Heng's chest is heaving up and down as he comes down from his high, soothing hand petting your head gently. You attempt to stand, but fail as you topple back onto the ground, laughing.
"Cock so good you can't stand back up?" he teases jokingly, and lends you his hand so he can pull you back up onto the bed.
"Hah, you wish," you smirk back and giggle again. "So, what are we then? Are we still friends, or have we been demoted to student and tutor again?"
His eyes narrow and cloud with lust as an idea pops into his head - you swallow nervously when you meet his darkened gaze. He grabs your wrist and pushes you back, his other hand now greedily kneading your thigh.
"We'll see after I repay you."
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luvrboydave · 10 months
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dad's best friend dave brainrot
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pairing: dave mustaine x fem!reader
warnings: smut, age gap, oral sex (f receiving), pet names, hair pulling
a/n: had to remake this account so i'm posting this again lol whoops...anyways enjoy!!
CLICK HERE FOR PT.2
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your dad invites him over for dinner and to have beers, watch shit on tv, talk cars, etc every so often. he’s just so fucking hot, and the fact that he lives just across the street makes things so much worse. when dave mows his lawn, he’s always shirtless and every time you make sure to be out on your front porch to stare at him. and don’t think he doesn't notice your lingering stares…in fact, he likes to put on a bit of a show for you, constantly wearing those slutty little cutoff tank tops around you, going to his mailbox in the morning wearing nothing but a low-hanging pair of grey sweats…he likes that you watch him; honestly, he kinda gets off on it. knowing someone much younger than him finds him attractive turns him on so much.
one night while your dad is out of the house for a work trip, dave presses you up against the kitchen counter, his chest flush with your back, and whispers nasty shit in your ear as you grind back into him. “been thinking ‘bout this for so long,” he groans as he grabs your hips and holds you still against his hardening cock. he flips you around to face him, hoisting you to sit on the counter before kneeling, flipping your skirt up, and sliding your pretty little panties down your legs. and god, he is such a tease. he takes his sweet time rubbing up your thighs, purposefully avoiding the spot you need him most. he won’t touch you until you whine for him to do so. he wants to hear how desperate you are for his touch, how badly you need him between your legs. “please, dave, please touch me...need you so bad! ’m so wet for you, baby...” he looks up at you with that stupid fucking smirk and whispers out a “good girl” before diving right into your soaked pussy. and good lord, this man eats pussy like his life depends on it!
your legs are thrown over his shoulders, and it’s all so fuckin sloppy. his fingers are pressed inside of you as he laps at your swollen clit. his pupils are blown wide when you look down at him, and he’s staring up at you through his messy bangs, watching how you react to his touch. his chin is glistening with a mixture of your slick and his spit, and his pretty nose brushes up against your clit occasionally. you brush the hair from his face to get a better look at his pussydrunk expression, and it almost sends you over the edge. your hands weave into his curly hair and try to pull him away from you. dave growls when you pull his hair, his eyes rolling to the back of his head for a split second at the feeling, but he doesn’t budge. “oh shit- baby, ‘m gonna cum!” you cry out, your grip on his hair tightens, and you begin to squirm. dave wraps his arms around your plush thighs, pulls you closer to his mouth, and mumbles, “stop squirmin’, sweetheart.” your eyes roll back into your skull, and your legs start to shake. “c’mon sweetheart, cum for me. let go, baby.” dave growls. “fuck, fuck, fuck! i’m cumming-” you cry out. your whole body shudders, and your vision goes white. dave grunts against your pussy, helping you ride through your orgasm. “fuck, sweetheart...you did so good for me. so good, baby,” dave groans, “god…this pussy is gonna kill me, baby,” he breathes out, resting his head against your thigh, a dopey smile on his face. through your labored breathing, you manage to mumble, “what about you?” he looks up at you and laughs a bit, “no need to worry ‘bout me, sweetheart…you already made me cum in my pants like a fuckin’ teenager.”
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infamous-if · 10 months
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Thank you for 5,000 followers ! I was thinking of what to post as a thanks and realized I wrote a letter (months ago) in response to this post that I reblogged (see: my tags).
Anyway, I wrote it ages ago for me but I decided to share it as a 5k gift. Here is the hypothetical letter Seven would've written to MC after their first kiss :) (inspired by Alex Turner)
As I write this, I feel vaguely sick to my stomach. Not only have I become acutely aware of my own feelings, but I have become forced to acknowledge the true depth of them. It makes me feel a bit powerless, my body and soul being at the mercy of your hands, lips, feet and every part of you as if I have lost all agency. Maybe I have, in a way. The moment we kissed, I knew immediately I was a goner. In more ways than one. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Terrifying because I know that I have ruined every kiss hereafter for the rest of my life, sentenced to compare every single one afterwards to yours while knowing they will never live up. Exhilarating because kissing you once has opened the opportunity to kiss you again, even a few more times if you’d like. Possibly forever, if you allow it. 
The intimacy of our friendship these years have comforted in ways no one but us two will ever understand, but the intimacy of a possible relationship comforts me even more. I know, deep down, that this is a bad idea. The cons outweigh the pros: our friendship is too delicate to ruin, and yet I want the alternative so badly that I am willing to risk that nugget of a chance to kiss you again. Will you let me? Or will I be forced to write about it in songs and hope one day you’d connect the dots and save me from the uniquely horrible suffering of an unrequited love? Please don’t let this be a singular moment. Or a lapse in judgment. Or a simple testing of the waters. Please dive completely into the deep end as I already have. 
Yours, Seven. 
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k0komi · 20 days
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this might sound a bit far-fetched at first but hear me out, i consider myself an avid feminist and i swear even from that perspective alone i could never bring myself to like james potter based on how he acts in the books, so let me draw a quick comparison between him and snape based on canon (mostly snape's worst memory):
-james does not respect lily's rejections and doesn't take no for an answer (even after multiple times)
-> lily tells severus she wants to end their friendship once and he respects it without further bothering her (only getting somewhat involved again years later to attempt to save her life which is a pretty good reason)
- james isn't really shown having any female friends in the books and only seems to pursue lily because he wants to date her, not because he wants to form an actual connection/friendship (although he most likely improved on this aspect as he got a bit older, i'll give him that)
-> severus and lily had an actual friendship with a long shared history. even if he developed feelings for her later on (which can't be said with 100% certainty based on canon material) that wasn't the reason he originally connected with her, and he never made any unwanted advances or bothered her about it because he actually valued her as a person beyond just a possible relationship. he's also well respected by and (possibly?) friends with several women as an adult, including minerva, charity and narcissa.
- another point about james is that not only does he not accept lily's multiple rejections, but he also reacts to them with anger and violence. again referring to SWM, as soon as lily tells him off, he starts disrespecting and threatening her and then turning his anger towards snape in a form of sexual harassment. do i need to say more...
-> and please don't get me wrong, i'm not writing this post to argue that snape was a good person who did no wrong. he treated people badly and used a slur against lily in this same chapter - he joined the death eaters ffs. however, his violence was never gendered, which is what i wanted to focus on with this post.
so.. let me summarize: james potter is a male who can't take no for an answer - and reacts to rejection with violence and anger. who (in the source material) is only shown trying to connect with the opposite gender because he is romantically interested in them and harrassing them about going on dates for what was probably months on end. who threatens violence against said person ('don't make me hex you') and also doesn't shy away from actively resorting to violence and assault over small inconveniences.
those are all some of the biggest red flags a man can have and the kind i wish to stay as far away from as possible. also yes. i know he was a teenager, but this kind of behaviour is simply not something i will personally tolerate regardless of age. i especially can't stand the way many fans use this sort of 'boys will be boys' mentality to excuse his behaviour or just completely downplay it. obviously you're allowed to like him as a character for a variety of reasons, but pretending that the kind of behaviour he displayed in the books is not downright dangerous is not the way. especially because those same fans often try to make him out as some sort of feminist, which is just... LOL.
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