#posting through it bc i have shit to do today and i was THIS close to making an improvised blunt weapon out of detachable parts of my car's

[seraphicrose]

it's like fucking noon and it's already been Day and honestly if i could give anyone advice it'd be to just not fall into that fallacy of a thought process that's "if i just try really hard every waking moment to be normal I'll achieve eventually" bc normalcy will not save you all that happens is that you make yourself miserable and steal your own words away, peace

[hearts4chriss]

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍.

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐁𝐒𝐅! 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐏𝐎𝐂 𝐛𝐬𝐟

prompt by this request: "chris getting jealous bc his bsf seems flirty with matt so he confesses his feelings and it ends with smuttttt”

contains: HELLA SMUTTT, Chris confessing his feelings, mad jealous Chris, dom!chris, suggestive, “flirting” w Matt??, Chris and yours first kiss, choking, spanking, degrading names (slut, whore yktv), MUCH dumification, use of pet names (mama, baby, sweetheart, good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl ), stomach bulge!, flashbacks of Chris fantasizing about you, overstimulation, cream pie, squirting, Chris having a massive cock obviously, missionary, slight m!oral, aftercare as always!! Heavy ( bath tg, praising, concerned!chris reassurance

a/n- this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so here it is

For years, since we were kids. I’ve always had a huge crush on my bestfriend.

I couldn’t get over her no matter how hard I tried and it grew more and more especially since she lives in LA now and we see her almost everyday.

It got worse. So bad. I needed her

I remember seeing her in an orange bikini complimenting her gorgeous features. The way the bottoms hugged her curves making her ass pop out was enough to make me finish in my pants.

She was gorgeous, I wanted to have her badly but it was Nearly impossible fo get her alone.

Especially with Matt around. It pissed me off when I’d see them laughing together or making tiktoks.

That’s my girl

I remember sitting in my room scrolling on instagram when I got the notification she posted on her story

Fuck she looked so good.

the way the grey shorts hugged her ass just how I liked, she looked so gorgeous too.

I, unintentionally started palming myself through my sweats.

I couldn’t help it she had such an affect on me.

I pulled my sweats down revealing my boxers with a wet spot where my tip was.

“Shit”. I groan pulling them down fully as my dick slapped against my stomach begging to be touched, wishing it was her hand and not mine.

I began to stroke myself with shaky hands imagining it was her lips wrapped around me and I throw my head back against the pillows as my mind wandered

She was irresistible, I had to have her.

We always had a flirty thing going on and I didn’t think it would get this far.

Until…

Today was on of those days where I was in the kitchen leaning on the counter drinking a Pepsi pretending to watch TV as I listen to her faint giggles as her and my fucking brother watched TV.

I felt my hand tighten around the can as I saw how close they were, knowing he didn’t like her but I didn’t care. I wanted her all too myself.

I sighed throwing my can out coming up with an idea to figure out a way to get her for me.

Matt and nick going to get food.

“hey Matt, wanna go get some food? Y/n likes this Chinese place it’s about an hour away, nick prob wants to go”. I say smiling with a cocky grin and he rolls his eyes.

“Okay fine I’ll be back in like 4 fucking hours nick let’s go!”. Matt tells and Nick comes downstairs.

“Y/n, you’re so lucky we love you”. Nick says sarcastically and they walk out the house but fuck something about the way Matt looked at her before he left just made me more pissed off.

“Chris?”. I stand up adjusting my shorts as the grey material rolled up my ass and my tank top hugged around my tits the watching Chris’s eyes wander.

“What the fuck are you trying to do to me”. Chris mutters into my ear, his hand wrapping around my neck and my breath hitches.

“W-what are you talking about?”. I shudder as his blue eyes pour into mine with an unhappy expression giving me a pity laugh.

“Flirting with my brother in front of me? Seriously?! Is it not obvious how much I want you?”. Chris confessed his nose touching mine making me gulp, my thighs closing together accidentally.

There was no doubt Chris was attractive but hell if I knew he liked me shit I’d probably let him fuck me or something.

“You? Want me?” I said slightly confused and utterly shocked and he takes a deep breath.

“you have no fucking idea how much I want you, and I have no problem showing him that your my girl”. Chris gave me a sly smile picking me up by my ass carrying me downstairs to his room.

“C-Chris wait-“. I was cut off by him kissing me and I melt into his touch. His hands grip my ass tighter making me gasp, his tongue massaging mine as I moan into the kiss.

“Strip”. He demands standing me up and I tilt my head. And he gives me those eyes and immediately comply beginning to peal of my clothes leaving me in a matching set of orange. Chris’s favourite colour.

“Fuck ma you look so pretty..all for me right?” He asks his hands playing with my bra strap making my panties dampen.

“Yes Chris- all for you”. I match his gaze and he smirked pushing me on the bed as I scooted back leaving him room to climb above me.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you”. Chris leaves a soft kiss to my cheek practically ripping my panties off me and I squirm.

“Chris! I liked those!”. I whine and he rolls his eyes pulling down his sweatpants and boxers in one movement and his thick, and painfully hard cock springs out hitting his stomach and my heart beat picks up

how the fuck was that supposed to fit inside me?

Chris took in my nervous expression and let out a soft laugh placing his hands on my thighs

“Spread ur legs for me”. He taps my legs and I spread them apart revealing my wet pussy, the arousal glistening on my inner thighs.

he runs a finger along my slit and I jolt slightly at the sudden sensation.

“shit- ur so wet, did i make you like this? Or was it my brother”. Chris asked tilting his head, his jawn clenched ans my breath hitched as he continued moving his finger.

“No answer? Guess I’ll fuck the answer out of you”. Chris pressed my legs against my chest before slamming his cock deep inside me, stretching me out painfully I almost couldn’t take it.

“f-fuck Chris! T-too much!”. I stutter trying to push his hand away but he quickly slaps it away, using my legs as leverage to begin pounding my inside me.

Chris didn’t give me time to adjust to his large size, tears already forming on my eyes from the pleasure.

“shit- your pussy feels so good, better than I’ve imagined”. He let out a deep groan watching how my pussy sucked him in, Chris’s hips driving into mine as I squint my eyes shut.

“Already becoming a mess on my cock? Should’ve kept matt here so he could see how much of slut you are for me”. Chris grips my neck angling his hips to thrust deeper and I squeal, my eyes meeting with his blues, an electric feeling shooting through me.

He wouldn’t let up his pace, his cock plunging into my tight hole as the pain turned to pleasure thankfully as my cunt morphed to fit his dick.

And Chris was fucking right, I was a slut for him and I has tried to hide it this whole time by being innocent and flirtatious with his brother but the second I was underneath him, I was begging for him to touch me

“Oh shitt- d-don’t stop- fuck”. I throw my head back on the soft pillows, moaning curses breathlessly, my tits bouncing with his quick and hard movements, bound to leave bruises between my thighs burning with sensation.

“mmph fuck- wasn’t planning on it pretty girl”. He moaned, completely infatuated with how I wrapped around him perfectly, like I was made for him. And shit- was he made for me.

She felt so good, almost as if her pussy and every thing about her was made for me.

I couldn’t get enough of her, the Moans and squeaks of my name leaving her swollen lips could’ve made me cum on the spot.

the way she could barley form a sentence as I fucked her, and I wasn’t even close to being done with her yet.

I was going to make sure she knew that she was mine, my fucking girl.

“Chris-you feel so good”. She moaned my name again, turning me on much more than it should’ve, the way her eyes barely opened, and how she’d bite her and stare at me grasping her breasts.

“yeah? you like when I fuck you dumb like this? Can’t even get a word out?”. I taunt, I gripped her neck tighter, her legs finding their way up on my shoulders crying out my name like it’s the only one she knew.

I couldn’t even answer, the things he were asking me required my full attention and shit- I was so far gone.

“I suggest you answer me ma because your about to to cum”. Chris presses his chest on mine, our noses touching as he breathed heavily into my mouth while I reciprocated the same action.

“mm-m I-fuck I-i love it”. I shudder on each word, praying he heard me because I really could not talk right now. I squeezed my eyes shut and he chuckled seeing how speechless he fucked.

“God I could listen to you like this all day”. Chris grunted into my ear as I felt the stomach coil I had began to burst unexpectedly from the overwhelming pleasure.

Chris made me squirt

“S-shit! I’m sorry I-“. I shook as the fluids made a mess over his lower stomach but gasping as he didn’t slow down.

“Never apologize that was hot as fuck- got one more in you?”. He pants resting his head on my shoulder quickening his pace and I whimper gripping his back.

“Oh god Chris- I-I can’t”. My nails run down his back making marks and he bites his bottom lip as I pulled him closer.

His hips pushing into mine, as my juices had coated his cock, leaking out of me creating a wet sensation of our sex.

“You can take it baby, being such a good girl, fuck just one more”. He let out a shaky moan throwing a my leg around his waist and I let out a loud moan at the angle Chris’s cock hit, brushing my g-spot.

“C-Chris ur so deep-“. I let out pornographic sounds and he gave me a deep kiss before pressing his hand where his dick was poking through.

his hand pressed down on the bulge in my stomach and I felt the tears run down my face from the overwhelming pleasure.

“that’s all me baby- fuck I love ur pussy so much-“. He stutters throwing his head as hair sticks to his forehead, the sight was more than appealing.

His slightly parted lips producing whimpers, curses and moans of my name. The way he squeezed my hips making sure I could feel every thick inch of him and the sweat coating over his body.

Her lips parted releasing pants and moans of my name and the occasional “fuck”, her hair now sweated out with hickeys along her neck and tits reminding her that she was mine now. The way her nails would grip my back drawing marks that showed how much she enjoyed it.

“Oh shit- ma- can I cum inside you? M’need you so bad-“. He moans into my neck and I shiver and chant yes’s.

Chris released his seed inside me triggering a second hard orgasm for me, creaming his dick as my body shook.

I turned my head to lay on the pillow before he could catch a glimpse of me, slowly sliding his cock out of me.

He took one look at me and his eyes immediately shifted to one of concern

“wait wait shit- did I hurt you?”. Chris started, seeing how my legs shook from the orgasm I just had.

“please talk to me”. He cupped my cheeks and I gave him a soft smile.

“I’m fine Chris that was- shit- the best sex I’ve ever had”. I let out a quiet sigh and a smirk tugged at his lips as he pulled me into a bridal style hold.

“Well come on let’s get you cleaned up, I wanna spend time with my girl”. He giggled like a child and I rolled my eyes as he carried me into the bathroom running a warm bath for both of us

“No seriously tho your okay?”. He said softly rubbing my shoulders as we soaked in the warm tub.

“Chris the way you put that dick on me I’m more than ok”. I kissed his cheek and his cheeks flushed a bit as he leaned back against the tub whilst I’m in his arms.

She’s really my girl.

@sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chriss @nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume-deactivated20240512 @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @vanteguccir @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @imaslut4kehlani @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @gamermattsgf @lilyloveschris @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @ineedchriscock @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @luhsexcbihh @nickgetsmewetter @rubyjaneaxx @love4chris

[rinhaler]

i cant stop thinking abt noncon + stepcest Rin who cant control himself anymore after noticing how much his lil step-sister has grown since he was away bc of soccer n shit yk..

(btw your blog is goated)

GOATED WHAT A COMPLIMENT AKGHDSAKLH thank u very much I hope u enjoy this <3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stepcest, dub/noncon, slight fingering, vaginal sex, nii-chan/rin-nii used, slight degradation, praise, dacryphilia, calls ur pussy 'she', shush kink?

words: 2k

“You’re always flirting with me.” Rin speaks. It’s the first time he’s said anything to you since he got back from Paris. He’s always been cold with you, short-tempered and even cruel. But you hadn’t expected to hear him say something like that.

You scoff, shuffling your position on the couch to get more comfortable to read your magazine. He always notes how often you change your position when you read; you can never sit still for more than a few minutes. You often read with your bedroom door open, and if he passes by to go to the bathroom, you’re always in a different position by the time he walks back to his room again.

“What was that?” he asks, pulling a disgruntled face at your dismissive response. “You think you don’t? You only wear short skirts when I’m visiting. I see your socials.”

“Oh… so, you’re stalking me then?” you giggle. “Don’t flatter yourself, Rin-nii… I jus’ feel pretty like this.” you defend yourself despite knowing he’s right. He thinks you’re dumb, and the fact that you smile and giggle after every word is a dead giveaway. You’re a flirt, and you’re a liar.

He also hates that you’re absolutely right.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t check your social media profiles. He likes to see what you’re up to and who you’re seeing. It’s only been a recent development, though, he saw a particularly sultry post on your Instagram and he quite frankly hasn’t been the same since. He hadn’t realised you’d grown so much and come into your own. He can’t get you out of his mind.

You gulp a little as he leans forward, his fingers lingering on your chin and guiding your eyes to meet his own. He doesn’t speak immediately. Instead, he opts to examine your responses. The way your forehead forms a tiny bead of sweat under the pressure of his gaze. The way your tongue quickly swipes over your plump lips when his eyes drift to stare at them. The way your breasts almost spill with each heave of your chest as you try and keep your composure.

“Be grateful, little sister. Good nii-chan’s keep an eye on their little sister’s, you know.” he tells you matter-of-factly.

“T- uh, thank you, Rin-nii…” is all you can muster beneath his intense stare. He smirks, too fucking coolly before withdrawing. You close your magazine and stand up, desperate to hurry to your room to calm your nerves. He watches you walk away as he flicks through the channels on the TV.

“Oh God, miss you on my lips… hm-mm-mm…” you sing along with your record player as you listen to Lana Del Rey, following a muted makeup tutorial on your phone to pass the time. You grunt in annoyance when you realise that maybe you aren’t destined to perfect winged eyeliner today.

After locking your phone, you immediately tap the screen to see the time. You almost gasp as you realise it’s 7PM and five hours have passed since you last checked what time it is. Dinner will be ready soon, you grab a makeup wipe and begin to cleanse your skin. You should probably do your skincare, too, but it can wait until right before bedtime.

You examine your face to see if you’ve missed any makeup. Your eyeliner is stubborn but eventually comes off. And so with that, you get up to toss the wipe into the bin in your room.

“Jesus Chri— Rin! What are you doing?” you ask, spotting your elder brother in the doorway of your room. His eyes follow the stained wipe as you drop it into the bin, but his eyes linger on you once more as you wait for him to answer. “Oh… is there something on my face? Thought I got it all…” you tell him, leaning over your dressing table again to make sure your face is spotless.

“Tell me the truth.” he sighs, entering your room without closing the door. You look at him through your mirror before you turn to face him, an eyebrow quirked in confusion as he continues to close the distance. “You flirt with me.”

“This again?” you laugh. You lean back against your dressing table, fingers curling beneath the tabletop as you cross one ankle over the other. You feel heady as he gets closer and you smell his cologne. It doesn’t suit him, you think, but it’s nice. The scent is generic and sporty but Rin Itoshi himself is nothing close to generic.

Though it doesn’t matter, ultimately, not when it’s flooding your senses and drowning your mind.

“You’ve gotten so big…” he sighs, placing a hand on your hip. He smirks at how you shudder from his touch on your bare skin. Your watery eyes make his heart swell, unable to believe how trusting you are. You don’t stop him when his hand smooths over the curve of your ass and fingers dip under your skirt, though you’re trembling. Thick fingers prod at your panties and a tiny mewl escapes your lips. A condescending chuckle leaves him as you uncross your legs, widening them to give him better access. “Your panties are soaked. I knew you wanted me…”

You grab his wrist, urging him to stop when you remember the bedroom door is still wide open. It doesn’t deter him, though. His heavy fingers still press against the material covering your cute little cunt, his bulge growing tenfold when he pushes by your puffy lips to tease your throbbing clit.

“Don’t act coy, now. I know you want this, you opened your legs for nii-chan to play with you.”

“We can’t.” you whisper, biting your lip in a feeble attempt to stifle yourself. “Not l-like this! Not when they’re home… please nii-chan.” you beg, though it’s fruitless. Your eyes flutter closed as his head sinks, his lips meeting your neck to kiss you delicately.

You barely have the energy to fight when he encourages you to hook your legs around his waist. He carries you to the bed, mumbles of protest leave you but you don’t dare make too much noise and draw attention.

“Has to be now, princess.” he tells you. “Don’t know when we’ll get a better chance.” he continues.

You’re trapped beneath him, making a point of looking away from him as he humps against you pathetically. And you want him, of course you want him, but the risk is too high. He’s lost all sense, instead thinking with his cock rather than his brain. But you’re not too far gone yet. You can put a stop to this.

It needs to stop.

“Why are you being like this?” he wonders as he pulls out his length, jerking it slowly all the while still humping the tip against your clothed, wet panties. “I have to do this… little sister. I have to know how tight you are around me.”

“Another time, please! What if we get caught? P-Please stop, you’re smarter than this!” you beg once again, the request falling on deaf ears. You gulp as you feel his fingers hook under the gusset of your panties, moving the material into the crease of your thigh. Your voice breaks, a whiny moan following as he presses his tip into your sticky cunt. The stretch is heavenly, and you can barely catch your breath. His glimmering green eyes staring down at you as he inches further and further into your welcoming warmth makes you feel humiliated. You don’t want this, but fucking hell, you really do. “Aaah~!” you sob.

His palm flies to your mouth, the pressure almost suffocating as lust blown eyes turn impatient.

“Shut the fuck up,” he whispers, still bullying his cock into you. “Gotta be quiet, don’t want our parents to see what a little slut you are for nii-chan, yeah?” he warns you.

You don’t know what to do with yourself. You aren’t sure where to put your hands. They grip into the duvet below before you begin pulling at his shirt. He doesn’t have the patience to take it off, though, not when you’re sucking him in and squeezing around him like a fucking virgin. Are you? He doesn’t want to know. His head dips as your nails begin to claw up his back, marking your territory unintentionally.

He moves his leg, hooking his ankle around yours to keep your thigh pinned in place and open wide. You feel him hold your other ankle briefly, kissing it softly before he moves his hand under the bend of your knee. Your eyes cross as he pushes your leg until your opened up for him like a blooming flower. The new angle is monstrous, his thick, intimidating length reaching depths you didn’t even know existed.

He groans as he watches tears roll out of your innocent eyes. Those trusting eyes that didn’t think your nii-chan could be capable of something so salacious. He’s sure he won’t last long. Not when your clamping around him like this and looking at him with those pathetically wet eyes. You’re mumbling something beneath his dampening palm, but he isn’t stupid enough to free your airways and risk you crying out needily for your dear nii-chan.

You panic as you feel him withdraw his length, though deep down you know it’s for the best. But your eyes roll over white as you feel him stab it in again.

“Pretty little sister… want you to cream this cock for me…” he announces, repeating the motion again and again as he basks in the way you can barely look at him in your ecstasy. He can’t take his eyes off you, though. He doubts he’s ever seen a more beautiful sight. “I’m gonna cum inside, princess. I belong inside, yeah?”

You shake your head, his words stirring in your mind and bringing your senses back once more. Oh God, he can’t. You’re on the pill, all should be fine if he does cum inside but it’s so damn wrong.

“Did you just say no to your nii-chan? I don’t like that answer.” he replies, his hips picking up the pace again. His body shimmers with a sheen of sweat, and his breathless pants become heavier. “You should be begging me for my cum. I’m sure you didn’t mean it, don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.” he continues. Each thrust of his hips is deep and powerful and you’re sure your inner thighs might be developing bruises.

You whimper, again, knowing you can’t do anything to change his mind.

“Your pussy is so cute… think your clit needs some attention, though. Touch yourself for me, let me watch.” he requests. “Go on… she’s so swollen.”

It’s like being hypnotised. Your dominant hand flies to your cunt and begins to rub your needy clit. And it’s minimal, after barely any touching at all and you’re creaming for your beloved nii-chan. The sight is too much for your brother and the way your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth are an additional lure into his release. His own eyes turn white briefly before he looks down at where you’re joined. Your combined coupling forming a beautiful white ring around the base of his cock with every shallow impale.

“F-Fuck… don’t wanna pull out.” he tells you, finally uncovering your mouth to kiss your lips intimately.

You’re speechless. You aren’t surprised your brother is so experienced or so filthy with his words. Not when he’s travels and fucks girls around the world. But how are you meant to be without him now? When he goes away again… how will you stand it? His cock is made for you, of that, you’re sure. But you doubt he’ll keep it in his pants for your benefit.

Fuck, this was a mistake.

“Dinner’s ready!” your mother calls up the stairs, your nii-chan’s hand instinctively flies to your mouth and he shushes you before chuckling again.

You cry desperately as he withdraws his softening length from your twitching hole. But neediness turns to discomfort as you feel your brothers fingers move the gusset of your panties back into place. It’s so wet and sticky and gross, your face distorts at the unpleasant feeling.

“Come on, don’t want to be late, do we?”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[hoseoksluna]

— WIP 𐙚 pt III of vapor

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc

about: the forbidden uncoils—along with your orgasm.

word count: 0.694

note: because i'm feeling IMMENSELY happy today bc of namjoon and bc this very work right here, i decided to express my joy by posting a little wip from the third part of vapor for you that's coming this weekend. *screams loudly* I'M SO EXCITED, OH MY GOOOOOOD. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT; LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. <3

warnings: mentions of punishment, oral sex (f. receiving), jungkook is needy but such a dominant daddy fuck my life

𐙚

“Spank me.” 

Lust and love. A peculiar concoction of it that doesn’t exist in the realm of words. He feels it, feels it with every breath he takes. 

“I should, right?” he rasps, dragging his fingernails down your carmine bum, sneaking his fingers around the squishy bottom of the flesh. He might drench his joggers—he didn’t wear his boxers to sleep; you’re wearing them for him. “For wanting to bite my nose off.” He clicks his tongue, squeezing, other hand wraps around your waist, holding you still. “I should spank you until it hurts. Until you cry.” 

The most gentle of a moan spouts out of your mouth and he twitches, his need growing—all because you want it as much as he does.

Jungkook lifts his hand in a promise he’s about to do it and you shiver in anticipation. 

“Please,” is all you say, but he’s not going to give it to you. He places his hand back in a soft manner, lifting it again to tease you and you wiggle your butt, his boxers still tucked halfway in between, the flesh rippling and he groans. A sight to die for. “I deserve it. Please, do it. I want it.” 

He sighs, a wet spot forming in the place of the joggers where his tip is, and he can’t see anything. Can’t see shit when he lifts you up and takes you inside. Can’t see anything but you and the surface of his kitchen island, which he sets you down on, spreading your legs. 

Confused by the swift motion, you rise to your elbows, but he pushes you right back down—holding your hips in the air, just like he did last night. You will see what he’s about to do to you, nonetheless. No need for you to strain your arms. 

And when he closes his mouth over your clothed pussy, you roll your eyes back, moaning his name so loudly that it echoes throughout the kitchen, rooting around his dripping length. And his arousal for you is so overwhelming, so sensitive that one thrust of his hips against the fabric of his joggers brings him such pleasure coursing through his body that he might as well come like this. 

Jungkook rids you of his boxers in a blink of an eye, throwing them somewhere out of his sight. No need for them, either. 

Burying his nose in your clit as he licks your slit and plunges his tongue inside, he narrows his eyes at you as yet another wave of pleasure comes down upon him. This time from having you for breakfast, at last. You mewl so sweetly that it drives him to thrust his hips again and he groans, groans so deeply for you. Needs you to know what you’re doing to him. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he breathes out, lightly dragging the tip of his tongue across your clit before he swallows, hissing at the delight of your taste. You moan, trembling, barely able to take it. Fuck one day, he’s about to die now. “And you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking boy. Is that what you want?” 

Jungkook flicks your bud, fleetingly, just to make your sounds shudder in the sudden intensity. You clench your small fists in the air, your tremor so terribly visible and rigorous, and with your breath hitching in your throat, he sucks that delicious part of you into his mouth. 

You stammer, badly enough that he begins to feel a sliver of pity for you, not enough for him to stop. He’s ravaging your little princess parts so hard that it takes a few tries for you to get the words out in a steady flow and he doesn’t help you. Doesn’t ease up for you, at all. Flicking, sucking, licking you up all over, rolling his tongue—he simply doesn’t stop, does it so fast that you lose yourself in it, submitting to it with all your being. 

And along with your submission come out your words. 

In perfect fashion.

“No, I want to suck you off.” 

And along with those your orgasm, too.

𐙚

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

WIP masterlist

[chrissbabymama]

keep talking

summary: You and your best friend Chris have known each-other for years, and since he’s moved to l.a. you guys face-time each day. But since you’ve had a glow up Chris can’t help but admire you and your voice.

warnings: sub!chris x dom!reader, dirty talk, m!masturbation, pet names (good boy, baby), mommy kink bc i’m a sucker🫦

a/n: short asf

-----------------------❤︎︎----------------------

“shut the fuck up”, she said giggling. “you did the same shit to bro”, she exclaims, “the fuck i did.”, chris replies.

you and chris have been friends for a awhile, he would facetime you everyday since he was in l.a. and you were in boston.

there was silence, chris sighs. “so tell me about your day”, he says, breaking the silence. “ok”. “so work today was fucking awful there was this one girl who wouldn’t shut the fuck up…”

while she talked, chris couldn’t help but admire her voice and how much it changed, her body to, he remembered the pictures he had sent her, her glow up is fucking crazy.

he found felt his dick grow at the thought of what it would be like to fuck her, would she like spanking? would she let him cum in her mouth? would she swallow it?

without even thinking chris’ hand travels down his body to his hardening dick, which was currently sore from the thoughts he was having.

he palmed himself, listening to her voice as he got himself off, “and i was like-“

all she heard was silence. “chris? are you there?”, his eyes widen. “oh yea i’m- uh- here.”

“ok just checking, so this lady comes up to me right-“

he continues to palm himself, small groans and whimpers here and there, he suddenly let out a small moan, his eyes widen as you stopped talking, he was in some deep shit.

“di-…did you just…moan?”, she asks. “no.” she sat there and thought, she smiled realizing what he was doing. “you know chris you should come back and visit me some time”

“y-yea i would l-love that”, by this point he had taken his cock out of his boxers, he was slowly stroking himself, his thumb rubbing over the tip every so often, making him whimper.

“yea?…i could show you all the new sets i got…since you know…we’re really good friends”,she says. chris hand went faster around his cock, images popping in her head of her in those sets, he lets out a whimper.

“chris?”she asks.

“y-yea” he answers.

“how close are you?”, his eyes widen, but he’s so close to cumming, it’s all he can think about. so he gives in.

“so close mommy- fuck- so fucking close.”

“yea? we’re you getting off to my voice baby?”

before he can respond she listens to the noises coming from her phone, sqelching, panting, whimpering.

“yes, yes, yes, yes- oh my god- so close”

“be a good boy and let me hear”

his hand goes down to his dick, the sound of his hand going up and down his cock made her thighs squeeze together, to her this was insanely hot.

“momm- please…i wanna cum so fuckin- shit- wanna cum so bad.”

“yea?”, she replies.

“fuck- yes.”

there was a couple seconds of silence before she spoke up.

“cum.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck-“

his hand moves faster at that word, throwing his head back, moaning her name, as his eyes roll back, his hips thrusting up into the air, as thick spurts of cum come out, landing on his stomach.

he slowly strokes himself, riding himself through his high, panting for air.

“you did so good baby”

he chuckles, before catching his breath.

“that was fucking crazy.”

-----------------------❤︎︎----------------------

hate this so much but i js wanted to post something🤷🏾‍♀️

[katsu28]

return to sender

pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

summary: you’ve been getting your neighbor’s mail for the past few months and you were okay with it, but now came a time to finally talk to him about it 

warnings: light swearing, neighbors meet cute, bradley's biceps bc god damn they deserve a warning of their own (2.5k)

navigation

The first time you got someone else’s mail, you didn’t think anything of it. Bradley Bradshaw, it said, 1987 Pennsylvania Court. That was a few doors down from your place, and they were just letters, you could just drop them off in his mailbox the next time you went out. No big deal, it was just one time. 

Then one time became twice, which eventually turned into a third, fourth, fifth time, and so on. Letters soon became bigger envelopes, which didn’t actually fit into his mail slot. 

So you started dropping them on his doorstep, leaving them for him to find the next time he left the house. Knocking on his door and giving him his mail seemed like it would be too much of an endeavor for your poor social skills, because you’d seen Bradley Bradshaw around from afar sometimes, but you’d never said a word to him. No, he was big and tall and scary looking, and as much as you hated to pass judgment on people you didn’t actually know, probably a jerk. 

So yeah, sticking them in his mailbox, leaving them at his door and hightailing it out of there was the best option for everyone. It meant you didn’t have to confront him and tell him that his mail was being sent to the wrong apartment, and he didn’t have to waste his time talking to you. Win win for both of you. 

That all went out the window today, when you opened your door to see the biggest box you’d ever laid eyes on sitting on your welcome mat, the mailing address on the top flap spelling out none other than motherfucking Bradley Bradshaw in large, bold letters. Upon trying to lift it, you very quickly found that you couldn’t even get it to budge more than an inch. 

Looks like you were going to have to talk to Bradley after all. 

After giving yourself a pep talk (and hyping yourself up and going through all the things that could possibly go wrong) you marched your way over to his place, practicing what you were going to say to him the whole way. 

You exhaled one last sharp breath through your mouth, licking your lips nervously before knocking on his door, once, twice, a third time. Faint footsteps came from inside, the clicking of the lock a few seconds after, then the door swung open. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the person standing in front of you. It was Bradley, of course, but up close for the first time. For once, you could see him in his entirety, and holy fuck was he hot. Clad in a plain t-shirt and a pair of shorts, he looked unfairly good—a far cry from you in your stretched out leggings and frayed sweatshirt from fucking college. He was tall and broad and tan and about a dozen other words you couldn’t even think of right now, not when all you could do was barely control your reaction to seeing him. You wouldn’t be at all surprised if there was a ‘loading, please wait’ signal flashing above your head. 

His gaze landed on you hovering awkwardly on his doorstep, offering you a polite smile. “Hi, can I help you with something?” 

“Hi. I live a few doors down from here and I think there’s been some sort of mistake with the post office, because I’ve been getting your mail for the past few months.” You blurted, pressing your lips together right after the words left your mouth. Way to ease into it, loser! 

Bradley’s eyebrow’s furrowed, mouth turning down into a confused sort of frown. “Uh…no, I don’t think so? My mail’s been getting here just fine everyday.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been dropping it off in your mailbox every time I get it.”  

His eyes widened, mouth dropping open the tiniest bit in…was that shock? Surprise? Possibly guilt? Maybe a mixture of all three. “Shit, really?” You nodded. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t even—I didn’t notice.” 

Honestly, you were expecting him to be a dick about it, but here he was, apologizing for something that he couldn’t have even known was happening all this time. It was throwing you for a loop, because you’d built him up in your head to be kinda mean and scary, but he was actually really nice. 

“Um. It’s—it’s okay. Just thought I should let you know.” 

“I guess I should be thanking you then.” He smiled warmly, and you had to fight the urge to turn tail and run. Bradley Bradshaw had the kind of smile that had the power to throw your whole plan out the window. 

See, you’d banked this entire interaction on him being an asshole. You’d tell him to come get his package, he’d do it, somehow fix the whole mail delivery problem, and then you’d never have to talk to him again. Problems solved, no reason for you to have to take this any further. 

Except he wasn’t an asshole at all, which made you feel like an asshole. 

“I’m Bradley, by the way,” He offered, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Which you already knew, ‘cause you’ve been getting my mail for months. I never got your name though?” 

“Y/N.” You replied, shifting your weight to your other foot. He repeated it, bobbing his head in acknowledgment. Hearing your name come off his lips was…well, the only way you could describe it was weird. It sounded somehow better than you’d heard it come out of anyone else’s mouth. “Right, so that’s not actually what I came over here for. Well, it was to tell you about the mail thing, but also something else. You’ve got a giant package.” Your face burned lava hot as you realized what you said and what it sounded like you were saying (two very different things, by the way). 

Bradley coughed abruptly, choking on his own breath at your words. He pounded on his chest a few times to recover before speaking. “I’m sorry?” 

“Your mail—a really big box. Sent to my apartment. Again!” You exclaimed, attempting to salvage your dignity and this downhill spiraling conversation. You could see Bradley was trying to keep his composure so as to not make you feel any more mortified than he could clearly see you were, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. He’d brought up a hand to rub at his mustache, effectively covering most of his mouth, but the beginnings of a smirk curled the edges of it, his eyes glinting in barely contained amusement at your blunder. “There’s a giant box that belongs to you on my doorstep and I can’t move it, so can you just…” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come grab it.” He nodded quickly, grabbing his keys and stepping outside. He shut the door behind him, gesturing for you to go first. “Lead the way.” 

You started the walk back to your place in dead silence, keeping your eyes trained on the sidewalk so you wouldn’t have to say anything to Bradley. You’d rather stew in your own humiliation and impending misery than initiate another conversation. Or think about how attractive he was, but that was besides the point. Totally, completely irrelevant. 

It was going pretty well, but then, he spoke. “So, when did you move into your place? I can’t say that I’ve seen you around here much.” 

He was trying to make small talk, you could tell. Probably to avoid having to dwell on the very awkward situation from moments prior. And as much as you didn’t want to make any more of a fool out of yourself than you already had, it would’ve been rude not to answer. 

“Been here a few years. I keep to myself mostly though.” Mainly to avoid situations like this. 

“Ah yeah, I’m usually not here too often. My job takes me a lot of different places, so I’m typically gone for months at a time.” He replied casually, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“Long business trips?” 

“Sorta. I’m Navy. Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, naval aviator—at your service.” Navy, interesting. Now you were wondering how those broad shoulders fit into a jet. 

“So you zoom around in the skies for a living?” 

“It’s a little more than that, but yeah, pretty much,” He snorted, said broad shoulders shaking with laughter. Damnit, even his laugh was endearing. It was getting harder and harder for you to justify making this thing with Bradley a one off. “Maybe I could take you up in my jet one day, give you a taste of what flying free feels like.” 

Was he…flirting with you right now? 

You finally looked at him, raising a curious eyebrow. “Really?” 

“Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s extremely against the rules. I can’t do that, I don’t—I don’t know why I said that.” Bradley admitted, offering you a rather embarrassed smile. 

You didn’t know how to respond to that, but good thing you’d arrived back at your place right at that minute, the huge box on your doormat instantly distracting him. 

“No way! I’ve been waiting for this thing for ages!” He exclaimed, squatting down to run his hand along the cardboard. He turned to you, eyes alight with pure joy. “You wanna know what it is?” 

You didn’t feel like you really needed to know, but from the way Bradley was beaming at you, you found yourself actually growing a little interested. “What is it?” 

“This fancy new coffee machine one of my buddies has been raving about. Apparently it’s supposed to brew like, the best coffee ever. I really think he might be exaggerating a bit, but Hangman’s fairly reliable when it comes to cool things.” 

Your brow raised in curiosity. “Hangman?” 

“His callsign. Mine’s Rooster.” Weird, but somehow it seemed very fitting. 

Bradley hefted the box into his arms with ease, resting it on a raised knee as he attempted to get his arms around it. His biceps bulged with the effort, and you had to make a conscious effort to avert your gaze. God, those things had to be bigger than your head. 

“Thank you again for dropping off my mail all this time, you really didn’t have to.” He said earnestly, fighting another smirk. Oh, he definitely caught you looking.

“I didn’t mind.” You replied quickly, feeling your face grow warm again. “Thought they might be important things. Naval aviator paperwork, maybe.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll let you get on with your day,” Bradley chuckled. He shifted the box a little higher up in his arms, and you looked anywhere else to stop your eyes slipping to his flexing biceps yet again. “But hey, if you ever wanted to chat or hang out or something since we’re neighbors, feel free to swing by. We could try out this coffee machine, see if it’s worth the fortune I spent on it.” 

You hesitated in your response. You knew it wasn’t anything serious, just some coffee between two neighbors, but the weight of it hung heavy in the air. Did you really want to make this more than a one time thing? 

Bradley was really goddamn nice, and as pathetic as it might’ve sounded, just that was enough to make your answer lean towards yes. But he didn’t need to know that yet. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to pressure you for a response right this very minute, so you just nodded. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. It was nice to meet you, Rooster.” You were slightly teasing him about his callsign, but it didn’t look like he minded one bit. One side of his mouth lifted into a smile, dimples on full display. 

“Call me Bradley,” He insisted, brown eyes not unlike the coffee he was offering up boring into yours. “Please.” 

“Okay. Bradley.” He looked pleased at that. “See you around, I guess.” 

“I sure hope so.” 

-------

It was weird how frequently you did start to see Bradley around after that. You’d stopped getting his mail, but sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of him through your window on one of his daily runs, and a lot of the time you somehow left the house or came home at the same time, which resulted in more conversations with each other. 

He’d always go out of his way to say hi or good morning to you when he spotted you, even if you had your head down or your earbuds in, and one time he even scared the living shit out of you by tapping your shoulder when you were looking for your car keys in your bag. Turns out you’d somehow dropped them near his car (which you didn’t even know was his car), and he was on his way out too when he spotted them. 

Things like this happened so often, you began to get used to Bradley. Talking to him became easier, less nerve wracking. It got to a point where you even started to look forward to seeing him out and about, because your interactions always ended up leaving you in a better mood. He was funny, charismatic as hell, and definitely easy on the eyes, and as much as you were afraid to admit it at first, you started to like him a little more than you knew you should’ve. Part of you thought that he might like you too, but you just weren’t sure. 

Yeah, he was a little flirty with you, but you just chalked that up to it being part of his personality. No way he was actually serious about it. That was just who Bradley Bradshaw was. 

Or so you thought.

The answer to your wonders came in the form of a stack of your mail in your mailbox one day a few weeks after the whole giant package fiasco. There was a sticky note attached to the top one, a message scrawled across the paper in small, messy letters. 

These were mixed in with my mail today. My my, how the tables have turned. Here’s my number in case the post office decides to make this a new thing. - Bradley 

You had to hand it to him—Bradley sure knew how to make his mark. You smiled to yourself, phone in hand, fingers entering his number and tapping out a message before you could even take a second to dwell on it. 

y/n: that offer for coffee still on the table by any chance? 

You set it face down on the kitchen counter the moment after you pressed send, walking away from it like that would quell your nerves as you waited for Bradley’s response. But really, what was the likelihood that he was going to see your message in the next—

Ding.

It was pathetic how fast you bolted back to the kitchen to snatch up your phone. 

Bradley: Absolutely. Tomorrow at noon sound okay?

y/n: sounds perfect

Unbeknownst to you, Bradley had also been waiting anxiously for your text, digging his phone out of his pocket the second he felt it buzz, hoping his not-so-subtle way of slipping you his number wasn't too forward of him. He couldn’t help the stupid grin that stretched his lips as his eyes read your text over and over again. It would be perfect. 

Now if he could only figure out how to actually work the goddamn coffee machine, it would be even better. 

[rbr4c1ng]

Hii! I was wondering if you could maybe explain the bus bros fallout or p2p gate or pretty much all of the McLaughlin-Newgarden lore to me since I'm only getting in to IndyCar now and I want to be caught up before the 500. I understand this is a big ask but I've seen that youve posted about it and I just NEED to know. Any links to other pieces of lore would also be much apreciated. Completely understand if you don't want to write anything though so thank you so much I advance!! <3

YES ABSOLUTELY I WILL EXPLAIN! this is my special interest dw i could write an 18 page essay about their lore.

SO basically scott came into indycar from supercars in 2020-2021 ish and him a josef started getting along like super well, which is honestly a bit odd bc josef is known to not really let people get so close to him, so scotty is a bit of an outlier in that respect.

eventually! they make bus bros!!! wooooo everyone loves it etc etc they have fun making it…. until they don’t! leading up to their breakup there were QUITE a few clues that they knew it was gonna end in flames like scott talked about it on off track (see audio excerpt below) and on hot seats with hinch if i remember correctly?

there’s also a fair share of articles that mention it. they basically knew it was inevitable but i don’t think anyone thought it was gonna happen so quickly??

so then the winter break leading into the 2024 szn happened! this is about when i started getting really into bus bros and was honestly pretty present for some of this shit (i was at the daytona 24 and st pete so i’ve got some first hand evidence but we will get to that later)… anyways so the rumors start going around that bus bros is over around?? st pete time i think??? a little bit earlier. which is odd given that they seemed okay with each other at the daytona 24, even though i thought it was strange that they weren’t both on tower motorsports anymore cause josef switched to penske porsche but GENERALLY it seemed okay (although based on this pic idk their relationship seems a little charged atp but it’s all speculation really)

then after the rumors come out i think it was jenna fryer’s article that did it in? (idk it has a paywall on it for me right now and i don’t care enough to find it here but there’s definitely excerpts floating around) now i do recommend to take anything jenna fryer says with a grain of salt bc she is essentially a gossip columnist for all intents and purposes. but the article basically said that josef and scotty were done and scott wouldn’t answer any questions about it and was only saying that they’re fine or to ask josef about it (tea from todays 100 days to indy episode actually…). they promptly took down the bus bros merch site and have been relatively quiet since then. at st pete they talked on the podium and didn’t seem too bad but i’ve seen other clips where they won’t even sit next to each other or speak to each other so take that as you will. podiums are pretty much just publicity, cameras everywhere, you’d probably want to seem at least cordial with your teammate.

(pic 1 is mine, pic 2 is a pic of my tv from todays episode LMFAO)

so heres where most of the speculative stuff comes in. Josef dissolved his media company, unfollowed everyone, and cancelled bus bros leading into the 2024 season because he wanted to “get rid of distractions”, and really we could leave it at that, but i find it hard to believe that that’s the only thing that happened.

Josef is the dictionary definition of Penske Perfect, you won’t get any closer to it than him. he’s fucking OBSESSED with this idea of being perfect. perfect season, perfect body, perfect car, perfect team. obviously this isn’t feasible, but scotty seemed to have broken through that block in his little Penske Perfect brain and got him to LIGHTEN UP A BIT. and then the 2023 season happened. sure, josef won the indy 500 but it was one of his worst season finishes in a while and, to make matters worse, scott BEAT him. little scotty mac, supercars champion transplant from 2021 beat josef newgarden at his own fucking game after breaking down his walls and making him soft. i can see how that scared josef honestly. so he ended it. Scott doesn’t see things on a plane of winning/losing imo, everything is just experience for him. hell, he didn’t even know if he would end up in indycar and he sure as hell didn’t think he’d win races so soon AND beat his teammate. to josef, it’s JUST winning/losing. if he’s losing, he needs to be better. and he lost sight of that for the 2023 season. that’s why he had to come back and put an end to the shenanigans bc he knows scott makes him soft.

but that’s just my speculation!!!!! literally could just be nothing. maybe it is to josef, but i know for a FACT it isn’t to scott.

OH and with the p2pgate stuff! basically they had a component in their car that. was not supposed to be there! that prevented race control from turning off their push to pass like normal. (marshall pruitt has a rlly good article explaining it all here) and they were caught in long beach when race control forgot to turn on the push to pass during the sunday warm up and HMMMMM why do the penske cars still have it???? when has this happened before??? oh ok st pete! now they’re disqualified. josef used 9 seconds of p2p when it was not enabled and scotty only used 1.9 and will used none. so i’m led to believe that it was a josef-centered choice IF it was intentional to use the p2p when it was supposed to be inactive.

now josef really laid down the water works for that press conference at barber to the point that i was having a VERY hard time watching it. i felt bad for the guy. he seemed really fucking upset and i almost believe that it WASNT on purpose but. it’s just too good to be true right?

honestly i think this all could tie back to the downfall of bus bros in that scott maybe didn’t want to do the p2p thing but josef was willing to? and maybe that caused some sort of divide between them bc then again for josef it’s about Winning No Matter What, and yes scott wants to win but cheating isn’t the way for him. idk.

for more of their lore when they WERE friends, watch bus bros (duh), admit one, 100 days to indy, scott learns america: nashville, hot seats with hinch, and listen to scott’s episode on off track with hinch and rossi! also there are some very brief interactions between them on some older penske games videos before bus bros was even a thing but it’s not much. there are more but i can’t think of them rn…

sorry for rambling, if you have any more qs feel free to ask!!! i’m always available for brain picking :)

[shuadotcom]

Irresistible | KMG (M)

Summary: You love Mingyu's hands and arms, especially when he holds you and touches you in the most sinful way.

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Afab!Reader

Genres & AUs: Smut, pwp, established relationship au

Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

Warnings: Fingering, a little dirty talk, body worship? (mc is in love with Mingyu’s hands and arms), public sex, outdoor sex (they’re in the woods 0/10 would recommend), pet names (sweetheart, baby)

Words: 1.2k

Note: A little drabble thingy I wrote in a few hours for Mingyu’s birthday! It’s not beta’d so please don’t tell me about the typos bc I’ll probably find them in like 6 months when I decide to randomly reread it lol. It’s also my first time writing a fic completely on mobile and posting on the app (very annoying btw 😒). I also have a different Gyu fic that I finished that I want to get beta’d before I post - hopefully in the next day or so! It’s a little fluff moment though and not like whatever this horny shit is lol.

Net tag: @kflixnet

Mingyu’s hands are one of your favorite things about him (and yes it’s a very extensive list). His hands are so pretty and always so warm. The pads of his fingers are calloused in the best way but also always so soft.

He’s an expert at holding your hands and loves linking his fingers through yours and rubbing circles into your skin. You love watching him use his hands. Whether it’s when he cooks and you admire the skilled way he handles knives and chopsticks, or when he’s typing on his computer or phone and you watch how his nimble fingers glide over the keyboard and screen.

You love when he’s gripping something, especially something heavy, and you get to see the veins under the skin of his hands bulge, muscles stretching and flexing, reminiscent of pathways on a map; a map that trails all the way up his forearms to his biceps. His bulky, sculpted, wonderful biceps.

Those are a favorite of yours too.

You know he truly puts in the work to make them as big and defined as they are and you appreciate the hell out of him for it. You appreciate how safe and sound you always feel when he traps you in those arms in a hug, holding you like the most precious piece of glass. The limbs are so sturdy, so easy to naturally grab onto when you’re out in the world, relishing in the jealous looks people give you because you’re the one clinging to him, digging your nails lightly into the arms of the Greek god you get to call your boyfriend. If it was up to you, Mingyu would wear nothing but sleeveless shirts and tank tops.

Just like the sleeveless shirt he’s wearing today. It’s black and soft between your fingers as you cling to it like a lifeline. His hands you obsess over so much are doing another thing you love - grabbing at your sweaty, bare skin.

His right-hand grips the leg you’ve thrown around his waist, helping to keep you upright and keep you balanced. His left hand is covered in your sticky wetness as he drags his index finger in and out of your eager cunt.

The bark of the oak tree you’re pressed against digs into your back through your shirt and your jeans are dangerously close to falling off the leg that dangles in his hold, but you barely register it as Mingyu’s finger brushes your g-spot.

“Fuck! Gyu…”

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

Your bottom lip, already red and raw from how hard he kissed you earlier and how much you’ve been gnawing at it, is between your teeth again and you nod in response.

You’ve lost count of how long he’s been teasing you and drawing out this pleasure. It’s been at least fifteen minutes maybe. Definitely too long to be doing this behind a cluster of trees in the park in the middle of the day while your friends wait for you a few feet away.

“I can’t help it, you look so fucking good,” he grumbled into your ear as he crowded you against a tree.

“I’m wearing such a normal outfit!” You giggled, but it was short-lived when he attached his lips to your neck and began sucking on the skin.

“That’s how much you drive me crazy. You’re fucking irresistible.”

“B-but we’re supposed to be getting th-the drinks from the car.” You could barely get the sentence out as Mingyu’s wide hand reached up, grabbing a handful of one of your breasts through your shirt.

“The drinks can wait. Wanna make you cum first.”

He had said that what seems like forever ago, and he’s been doing the exact opposite. Mingyu alternates between lazily rubbing at your clit with his thumb and fucking you with one finger, bringing you so close but not giving you enough to tip you over the edge.

“Gyu, please,” you breathe out, holding in a moan that wants so badly to tumble out. Your ears pick up the sounds all around you - the sound of voices, the rustling of the trees, a dog barking in the distance, and the obscene squelching of your juices as Mingyu shoves a second thick finger into you.

“Hmm, I suppose I should let you cum. People may come looking for us.” He’s almost noncommittal with his words, still only fingering you with minimal effort.

“Please, please, please,” you babble as your fingers grab at his shirt so hard that you’re sure it’ll be wrinkled once you’re done.

“Please what, baby?”

“Please, let me cum, Gyu, please!” You’re desperate and punctuate your whimpers with open mouth kisses on his chiseled jaw.

Your boyfriend gives you a devious smirk and you can nearly hear the gears in his head turning, deciding if he wants to keep teasing you or not. Mingyu seems to take pity on you though as he readjusts your leg around him, hiking it higher. Your eyes rake over the prominent veins in his biceps, the skin looking as smooth and tan as always.

Then he’s drawing his other arm back and starts thrusting his fingers into you so quickly it takes your breath away. Your hands fly to his shoulders, grasping onto him for dear life as Mingyu pistons his fingers in and out, curling the tips perfectly.

“Ohhh fuck, like that, fuck!” The words leave your mouth in between more moans of his name, fire erupting in the pit of your stomach.

“Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Gonna let go for me right here with all these people around?”

A mix of words that you can’t understand comes out of you. He adds a third finger at some point, making your eyes roll back at the delicious burn of the stretch. Mingyu’s thumb rubs against your clit roughly, the pressure being exactly what you need.

He knows you so well and always knows when you’re about to release, so Mingyu brings his mouth to yours, capturing your lips and sticking his tongue into your mouth as you reach your peak. He swallows up your cries of his name as your body shakes in his hold, the tree bark scratching against your exposed skin where your shirt has risen up your back.

Your lips stay locked as you messily make out with him, his digits slowing down to let you ride out the rest of your orgasm.

Eventually, he pulls away and you let out puffs of air that turn into whines of protest when the stimulation from his fingers becomes too much.

Mingyu eases his fingers out of you and holds your gaze as he pops them into his mouth, sucking his fingers clean and groans.

“So sweet. My favorite flavor.” If your skin wasn’t already ablaze, you know you’d be burning up due to his little show.

Mingyu gently lowers your leg and leans down to help you steady your weak body. He gingerly lifts your leg to put it back through your underwear and jeans, even wiggling the denim up your legs and fastening the button for you.

He brings his right hand up, brushing some of your sweaty hair back and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Now, let’s go get those drinks!” He flashes you his signature wide, puppy smile before lacing his perfect fingers with yours and carrying on with your original goal as if he hadn’t just had those same fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy.

Not that you’re mad about it of course.

[notiddygxthgf]

6. troublemaker

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Did you miss me? ❞ ❝ Only a little. ❞

★ c.w.: smoking, smut, lots of filthy dirty talk omg. (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: i hated writing this chapter only bc its like omg. i just want everyone to be HAPPYYYYY!! ugh. I tried to make it slow burny but as you can see that did not work out. I missed aki too much to bear it. Anyway! I'm finishing up the last few chapters in google docs (dw there are many chapters you will see before i post them, i like to be prepared is all) and im thinking of how to end the story. Leave suggestions! Keep them comments coming, I love reading through them! I be, like, kicking my feet n shit. 

★ w.c: .5.5k

shameless ; chapter index

THE MORNING LIGHT FILTERED SOFTLY through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. You stirred, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. His arm was still draped over you, holding you close. As you opened your eyes, you found yourself face to face with him. He was already awake, his gaze warm and soft, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice husky.

Yesterday was real. He was real.

"Morning," You replied, a blush creeping up your cheeks. The two of you were still pressed bare chest to bare chest, a gesture so sickeningly intimate that you couldn't help but blush.

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "How did you sleep?" he asked.

You smiled, feeling a little shy. "Better than I have in a long time," you admitted. "You?"

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling. "Like a baby," he said, his hand gently caressing your back. "You're a wild sleeper, though. Almost pushed me off the bed."

You laughed, feeling a lightness in your chest that you hadn't felt in ages. "And you're a wild lover. My back feels like shit," you teased, snuggling closer to him.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Sorry," he said quietly, his breath warm against your skin. "Wanna do it again sometime?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for a moment, you were lost in the tender bliss of it all. 

"When's sometime?" You dared to ask.

He grinned – giddy and breathless and pretty, "Right now works for me. You?"

You laughed, "Don't be greedy."

Still, you thought about it. You thought about rolling over and kissing his pretty face again, being close to him – feeling his hands on your hips while he slowly, lazily thrusted up into you.

But then, reality came crashing down on you. You had a train to catch and responsibilities to face. As much as you wanted to stay in this cocoon of warmth and affection with him forever – stay buried in his strong, sweet smelling arms – you knew you couldn't.

You glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and your eyes widened in alarm. "My train!" You exclaimed, quickly pulling away from him. You reached for your phone, checking the time. 

Hurriedly, you got out of bed. You began gathering your things, slipping into your Public Safety suit and tie uniform. As you zipped up your suitcase, you caught his eye in the mirror. He was watching you with the most tender smile, and it made your heart ache.

"I'm going to have to call a cab," You said, smoothing out your uniform in the mirror. "I was going to walk, but... at this rate..." You trailed off, biting your lip.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Don't worry about it," he said, getting out of bed. He came up behind you, his presence comforting. "I'll drive you."

You turned to face him, a look of surprise on your face. "You sure?" you asked, your voice soft. "I don't want to put you out of your way. I know you have work today."

You really, really, could get used to a sight like this – a handsome captain standing in nothing more than a pair of boxers behind you, admiring your uniform in the mirror like you were a fucking painting.

He smiled, a gentle, reassuring smile. "I can run a few minutes late," he said. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "I want to make sure you get there safely."

It felt so good to be desired by him.

You felt a lump form in your throat. The way he held you, the concern in his voice—it was more than you had expected, more than you felt you deserved. You looked at your reflection in the mirror, meeting his eyes. 

"I'll be fine, Aki," You said softly. You were a devil hunter, after all. You could defend yourself against anything.

"It's not up for debate," he said gently but firmly. "I'm taking you to the train station. Are you all packed?"

At this rate, I'm gonna fall for him.

"Yeah," You smiled breathlessly.

He landed a smack on your ass, "Then bring it here, and let's hit the road. If I look at you any longer, I'll give you a reason to miss the train."

"Fine," You laughed. "I'm carrying my own suitcase, though."

It was something you were used to doing. Something completely mindless – your husband never helped you with your bags, or anything like that. 

"And have you lift a finger?" He retorted, "Over my dead body."

"Watch me," You grinned back.

You never did wind up carrying your suitcase to the car. Or opening the door, for that matter. Aki, a man true to his word, did not let you lift a finger.

.

The train station was the same way it had been when you'd arrived only a week or so earlier. The only different thing about it, in fact, was the fact that you were with the same man you had bumped into upon your arrival – and now he was carrying your luggage for you.

As you reached up to grab your suitcase, you collided with someone. Startled, you looked up to find yourself face-to-face with a man who immediately captured your attention. He was tall, easily over six feet, with broad shoulders and a powerful build that spoke of both strength and discipline. His dark hair was tied back in a neat topknot, accentuating his sharp, angular features. But it was his eyes that held you—their piercing blue depths seemed to look straight through you, filled with a seriousness that made you catch your breath.

"Sorry—" he began, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that vibrated through the narrow space.

The butterfly effect was a strange thing, truly. 

The two of you stopped in front of the tracks. He checked his wrist watch, parking your luggage right beside him. As if on cue, a train pulled into the station, screeching to an unceremonious stop. You had half of a mind to be upset about its arrival, as if you had been robbed of your precious time with him (even if it was only a few minutes, and even if the two of you had spent the entire car ride talking shit about coworkers).

"Just in time," He remarked.

You didn't know how to feel. Should you have been happy that you were finally able to leave your transgressions behind and return to your husband? If such was the case, then why did you feel as if you were leaving such a large part of you behind?

As if your heart was buried in Tokyo along with the memories of your past?

"Yup," You replied in a remarkably stupid fashion. As the doors of the train opened and passengers began pouring out, your heart dropped.

He observed you fondly, the faintest hint of affection in his stoic resting face – as if he was expecting you to make the first move.

So, not knowing what else to do, you bowed your head ever-so-slightly. 

"Thank you for everything," You said. Then, struggling to find the words to say what you meant (I miss you already...? Will I ever see you again...? I wish I didn't have to leave...?), you added, "Okay. I guess this is it. Goodbye, Aki."

You turned to walk away, feeling the weight of the moment pressing on your chest. Every step felt like a betrayal. 

Suddenly, you felt a firm but gentle grip on your arm. Before you could process what was happening, Aki pulled you back with a surprising urgency. 

In an instant, his lips met yours in a kiss so passionate that it took your breath away. You stumbled backward, the sheer force of the moment making your knees weak, but his arm around your back secured you, holding you close to him – like he was afraid he would lose you if he let you go.

Time seemed to stop. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was the warmth of his lips and the pounding of your heart. His other hand moved to cup the side of your face, fingers gentle yet firm, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless. He looked at you, eyes filled with a mix of emotions you couldn't quite decipher. His cheeks were tinged with a slight blush, an endearing contrast to his usual stoic demeanor.

"Goodbye," he said softly, his voice slightly husky from the kiss. The faint blush on his cheeks deepened, giving him an almost boyish charm. 

You could feel your face heating up, the blush spreading like wildfire. "Bye," you managed to say, your voice coming out more giddy than you intended. The giddiness in your tone mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you.

With one last lingering look, you turned and walked toward the train, toting your suitcase with you. As you reached the door and stepped inside, you couldn't resist glancing back. He was still standing there, watching you with a mixture of longing and resignation.

The doors closed with a final, echoing thud, and the train lurched forward. You found a seat by the window, your heart still racing. As the train pulled away, you watched Aki's figure grow smaller and smaller, until he was just a distant memory in the Tokyo landscape.

Like the night you had taken a cab to get away from him.

You sighed, resting your head against the window. The kiss lingered on your lips, a bittersweet reminder of what you were leaving behind. The train rumbled on, carrying you back to the life you knew – a life that, for some odd reason, seemed much emptier.

A faint buzz of your phone, and you were checking instantly. A part of you hoped it was him, begging you to get off the train, to stay with him, husband be damned.

AKI

|   I hope I get to see you again soon.

|   Get home safe.

Soon. Somehow, despite the heavy feeling in your chest that you were leaving something behind, you found it in yourself to smile. . . .

Deciding to take the more scenic route home, you opted out of boarding the bullet train. You rode local instead. You didn't even mind that you had to transfer three times, or that the commute took eight hours. It gave you some time to finish up the book you had packed, and even more time to catch up on the sleep you had lost the night before.

More importantly, above all else, you wouldn't have to see your husband so soon.

By the time you finally stumbled into the house – haphazardly tugging your suitcase along with you, it was bedtime. You found yourself hoping that your husband had gone to bed early, so that he wouldn't come all up on you expecting some sort of "I missed you" sex.

You kicked your shoes off in the foyer, and pulled your suitcase down the corridor until the voice of your husband called your name.

"You home?"

Fuck.

"Yeah!" you huffed, reluctantly following his voice towards your bedroom. You had hoped to slip in unnoticed, crawl into bed, and avoid any conversation altogether.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on you as you entered. He looked familiar – brown hair and tired eyes searching your face – but his presence didn't bring you the peace it once did. You could see the tension in his jaw, the furrow in his brow. He was waiting for something, perhaps an explanation, an apology, or a confession.

"How was your week?" he asked, his voice neutral but his eyes piercing.

"It was fun!" you said, trying to sound casual. "Met up with some old friends, got to meet some new ones..."

Images of Aki and you together flashed through your mind, and you felt a pang of guilt.

"I stayed up to talk to you, you know," he said, his tone harder now.

Your heart dropped. "About what?"

"These new friends of yours," he said. "Wouldn't happen to be one of your coworkers, would it?"

Shit. Fuck. Shit, fuck. 

Did he know? Knowing him, he could have been drunk and jealous, and just talking out of his ass. Still, a part of you couldn't help but wonder.

You froze. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm saying I don't know what you thought you were doing in Tokyo," he said, his voice rising. "But word travels in Public Safety. There are rumors about you dancing around with a little Captain, or some shit."

He does know.

"That's ridiculous!" you snapped, your defensiveness rising. "The Captain and I are mutual friends with Himeno. She made introductions, and he bought us a round of drinks. They're blowing it out of proportion."

"Are they?" he shouted, standing up. "Then, you should really, really start clearing your name. You could very well have fucked him already."

"It's not like that!" you retorted, tears stinging your eyes. It was like that. "It's not my fault that people have nothing better to talk about. I'm in love with you, and only you."

You were lying. You knew you were lying. He knew you were lying.

"Bull shit," he scoffed. "We haven't made love in two weeks."

"I don't want to do this right now," you muttered, turning away. He was insufferable, as per usual. "I'm exhausted."

"You're always exhausted," he shot back. "Always too tired to talk, too tired to fuck. Then you go off on this work trip, and there are rumors about you at some party. What am I supposed to think?"

You felt a mix of guilt and frustration. "You're my husband. You're supposed to trust me," you said quietly. "I didn't cheat on you. Don't be a dick, it was just a dance!"

Truly, the irony of the entire conversation was not lost on you.

"Want to know the truth? I really don't give a shit if you cheat on me or not. I can have another woman in here tomorrow to take your place," Your husband's next words were cold and unforgiving, "You want to keep your white-picket-fence life? Then stop embarrassing me in public."

With tears streaming down your face, you slipped into a nightgown you had hung up on the dresser. The bed felt cold and uninviting as you slid under the covers, your husband's eyes still boring into you. You turned your back to him, staring at the wall, trying to will yourself to sleep. 

The damage was already done, the emotional distance between you and your husband growing wider with each passing moment. The bed felt even colder now, and you closed your eyes, hoping for sleep to come quickly and take you away from the reality you were living.

Lying there, you couldn't help but replay the moments with Aki in your mind. The way he made you feel alive, seen, and wanted. You felt a deep pang of guilt, knowing you had betrayed your husband's trust. Yet, part of you couldn't bring yourself to regret it entirely. 

The fact of the matter was that Aki had filled a void in your life, one that you hadn't even realized was there until he came along.

Aki was ten times the man your husband could ever dream of being.

The hustle and bustle of Tokyo played in your mind, the energy of the people, and the warmth of a certain dark, handsome Captain. You even found yourself missing Himeno, her infectious laughter and the way she always knew how to lighten the mood. But most of all, you missed the secret moments with Hayakawa, the stolen kisses, the way he breathed passion into your name. Your heart ached with the memory of it all.

"I hope I'm wrong," Your husband said, his voice low and steady – a reminder of all that you had lost by settling down with him so young. "But, above all else, I hope I don't have to tell you that cheating is insulting to a man like me and stupid for a woman like you."

A man like him. You could nearly laugh at the prospect of your husband being grouped into any sort of high category. He was a piece of shit. That's what he was, and it was getting progressively harder to ignore that fact.

"Goodnight," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You wouldn't glorify him with a response.

Your husband lay down beside you. 

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Your heart raced. "No," you said, your voice barely steady. "There's nothing."

You swallowed hard, the weight of your guilt pressing down on you. 

He's too late, you thought to yourself.  .

8:38 PM [New Message]

[Play]

[Automated: Playing Voicemail from 'Makima']

"Hello. I'm sorry for calling so late. I hope I didn't disturb you. I wanted to speak with you at your earliest convenience. I have some concerns about one of my new recruits, and I'm uncertain that he will function well in his group. Would it be possible to request you for backup? You did such great work last time, and I know you won't fail me. A little help would be greatly appreciated, at least until we recover from the tremendous losses we just suffered. Thank you, again, for all that you do. Please call me back and let me know if you're available this week. Again, all expenses will be paid. Goodbye."

[Automated: You have no new messages.] .

The work week dragged on, each day blurring into the next. Every task felt like a mountain to climb, your thoughts repeatedly drifting back to Tokyo and the emotional whirlwind you'd left behind.

A few days later, as you stood in the kitchen, the aroma of cooking filling the room, you decided it was time to share your news. Your husband walked in, his mood noticeably sour.

"I've got news," you said, trying to sound casual as you stirred the pot on the stove. "I'm being reassigned to Tokyo again."

His eyes narrowed immediately. "Tokyo? Again? What is this, some kind of joke?"

"It's not a joke," you said, turning to face him. "It's a new assignment from Makima."

"Makima's orders?" he echoed, his voice rising in frustration. "So you're just going to pack up and leave again? How many times do I have to watch you walk out that door?"

"It's not like that," you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. "This is a work assignment. It's out of my control."

"Out of your control?" he snapped. "Its your job. You can say no."

"I didn't want to," You said. "I would be getting paid almost double. What did you want me to do?"

"Quit, like I've been telling you to do for the past few years," He replied. "When are you going to let me take care of you? I could make you a stay at home wife. You don't need this job."

You. A housewife. You, being trapped inside of the house all day – all of your ambitions and dreams and achievements being reduced to your status as a homemaker. That wasn't your life. It wasn't what you wanted for yourself.

Why wouldn't he take the hint?

"I'm not gonna quit. I want to work," you said, feeling a pang of defensiveness. "I need to go to Tokyo for said work. To get paid more. It's not about escaping you."

"You don't even see how you're doing exactly that. Run off, then. Go back to Tokyo."

"It's not like that," you said, trying to explain. "Life's been overwhelming. I'm not trying to run off, I just–"

"Overwhelming?" he scoffed. "You were full of energy over there. You had time for everyone else but none left for me."

Dick.

"It wasn't like that!" you said, your frustration bubbling over. "I was catching up with friends. It was a chance to get away from all of this. You cant– I won't let you criticize me for having a life outside of this marriage."

"Is that what you call it?" he snapped. "A life outside of our marriage? While I'm stuck here, waiting for my wife to come home, barely even recognizing her when she does?"

"That's not fair," you said, tears welling up. "I care about you. But it's been hard for me, too. I've been dealing with a lot."

"Dealing with a lot?" he repeated, his face reddening. "Do you even realize how distant you've become? We barely have sex anymore. We hardly talk. What kind of marriage is this?"

"I don't know," you admitted, feeling the sting of his words. "I'm tired. Maybe I would want to fuck you if you... I dunno... maybe, helped me out once in a while. You never even lift a finger around here. I'm working just as hard as you, and yet you are the one who gets to come home to a home-cooked meal."

"This wouldn't be an issue if you just quit," he shot back, taking a step closer. "But you're too busy being an independent woman, right? I own this house. It's in my name."

"I pay half of the bills," You added.

"But it's my house," He corrected you. "On paper, it belongs to me. Don't get out of line."

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" you said, your voice breaking. "I wish you would stop– fucking– pointing fingers at me for once and realize that there's a bigger issue here. We're struggling, and I don't– it's not my job to fix us."

"You can't fix shit. This is us," he said, his voice growing colder. "This is marriage. The difference between me and you is that I'm stuck dealing with this mess while you run off and live your life. How am I supposed to just accept that?"

"You don't have to accept it," you said, frustration rising. "But you need to understand that I'm not doing this to hurt you. I need to have a life of my own."

"A life of your own," he echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "It seems like you're more interested in escaping the life you have than in fixing what's broken between us."

"Stop it," you said, your anger flaring. You set your spoon down on the stove, turned the burner off, and turned to face the man you were supposed to love. "This conversation is over."

"I don't get it," he said, his eyes darkening. "Are you happier away from me? Are you saying that you're not interested in being here, in working on our relationship?"

"That's not what I'm saying," you said, lip quivering with anger. "But I can't just flip a switch and make everything perfect. I'm trying. You can't wall me up inside this house and expect me to be your bitch forever. I want to– I need to have a life."

"Be grateful for the life I gave you," he spat, his voice harsh and final, dripping with hatred and venom. It could not have been more apparent. Your husband hated you. "I'm the one who provides for you. I'm the reason you have a home and a life. Without me, you'd have nothing."

"Even with you, I have nothing," you laughed humorlessly. "There's nothing here. Nothing between us. I'm starting to believe I shouldn't have married you to begin with. Lord knows we were fine before, but you just had to settle down in the countryside."

You froze. The coldness of your own words cut through the air like ice. Before you could take it back, apologize, even, his hand lashed out, striking you across the face. The shock of the blow left you reeling, your cheek stinging with pain.

He spoke slowly, like he was sounding it out. His eyes wide, he apologized– "Honey, wait, I–"

"Fuck you," you whispered, the tears falling freely now. 

You turned on your heel and fled to your room, your heart pounding.

Inside, you slammed the door and leaned against it, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The pain in your cheek was sharp, but you forced yourself to focus on something else. 

You began unpacking your suitcase, using the physical task to distract yourself from the emotional turmoil.

You tugged the zipper open, revealing neat piles of folded clothes. You began to pull them out, laying at the foot of your bed. As you reached the bottom of the suitcase, you uncovered the painting Aki had gifted you, carefully wrapped in bubble wrap. 

You unwrapped it slowly, revealing the vibrant colors and delicate brushstrokes. The painting was a tangible piece of Tokyo, a reminder of a time when you had felt truly alive – the flowers in the field. The strong tree. The blue sky, and the warm, warm sun.

It had no place in your home.

Your room felt cold and impersonal, a stark contrast to the warmth of the painting. You knew it didn't belong here, in this bedroom that felt more like a prison than a home – with gray walls and gray floors. But as you looked at the painting, a deep longing settled in your chest.

You glanced around the room, your eyes landing on a framed photo of you and your husband. It was one that had been taken at your wedding reception. He was grinning ear to ear, holding you close to his side. You were smiling, too, face smeared with cake – hopeful for your future with the man you loved.

Without hesitation, you took it down and replaced it with the painting. As you hung it up, you felt a rush of warmth spread through your chest, a flicker of happiness amid the darkness.

Standing back, you admired the painting. For a brief moment, the pain and anger seemed to melt away, replaced by the comforting memory of Aki. Oddly enough, staring at the painting long enough, you felt as if you could almost feel his presence, smell his warm cologne whipped together with the scent of the nicotine that lingered on his uniform. You felt as if you could practically feel him behind you, hands resting on your waist, soft lips pressing tender kisses to the valley of your neck.

And, only then did you really grasp the gravity of your situation. You were fucked. Completely and totally fucked.

Aki's text from the train sat heavy and unanswered still in your pocket. A week had passed, and you hadn't dared to text him back. 

You didn't need to open it to know what it said. You had stared at it for so long that the image was practically ingrained into your memory.

I hope I get to see you again soon.

Get home safe.

You shouldn't. You knew you shouldn't. But you could feel the weight of your phone in your pocket, the weight of your desire rearing its ugly head during a moment of weakness, and you couldn't help yourself. Before you could stop and think twice about it, you were flipping your phone open and browsing your contact book, pressing 'ok' on a name you most definitely should have deleted by now.

The phone rang once. Twice. A third time. 

Then it clicked.

"Hello?"

"Hey," You exhaled, relieved that your call had gone through. You crossed your legs, plopping down onto the bed.

"Hey, troublemaker."

The wave of heat that washed over you at the sound of his voice was uncanny. He filled you with a fantastic sort of giddiness that you hadn't felt in years – you didn't even care that your husband was about to eat dinner in the next room, just as he didn't seem to care that you had been M.I.A. for the past week.

In his typical fashion, he made you forget about your surroundings. Right then, it was just you and him, and that's all that mattered.

"Did you miss me?" Aki asked.

"Only a little," You replied. You couldn't help but smile. "What are you up to right now? Do you have time to talk?"

"Of course. I always have time for you," He answered warmly. His voice was deep and tender, and it made you melt all over the bed. "I'm laying in bed right now. Just had a smoke. How did you know I was thinking about you?"

There were so many things you wanted to say to him – I miss you, come get me, he hit me. I need you – and yet you couldn't help but bask in the comforting silence.

"Lucky guess," you said, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. "I've been thinking about you too. What's it like there? Anything exciting?"

"It's Tokyo," he said with a lazy lilt to his voice. He sounded tired, as he always did. It was endearing. "Could be better, but honestly, I'd trade it all just to be with you right now."

You felt a shiver of excitement at his words. The warmth of his voice and the lightness of the conversation made you forget, if only for a moment, the coldness of your current reality.

You knew it was bad. Still, you grinned, rolling onto your stomach while you took the call, kicking your feet.

"So, what's the weather like there?" You asked, trying to keep the tone light but unable to mask the undercurrent of flirtation.

You would say anything if it meant you would get to hear his voice a little longer.

"Warm, surprisingly," Aki replied, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone."Have you been holding up okay over there? You haven't spoken to me in a week."

"Probably for the better," you said, a laugh escaping you. "Even now, I shouldn't be talking to you. I'm sitting here in this freezing room, and your words are the only thing warming me up."

"Good," he said, his tone suggestive. "Maybe one day soon I can warm you up in person. Until then, just know I'm thinking about you."

You rested your head on the bed, the phone pressed to your ear, feeling as if you were floating in the warmth of his words. Despite the rational part of your mind telling you to be cautious, you found yourself lost in the conversation, savoring every last moment you could.

"Are you still there?" Aki's voice came through, warm and inviting, like a soft blanket in the coolness of your room.

"Yeah," you replied, settling into the bed, propping yourself up with pillows. "I'm still here. Just... don't want to hang up."

"Glad to hear it," he said, his tone teasing. "I'm not ready to let go of you either. What are you thinking about?"

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "Just thinking about how nice it is to hear your voice. It's been such a rough day, and talking to you made me feel a little better."

"Wanna talk about it?" Aki asked softly. "I've been thinking about you like crazy."

"Really?" you asked. "What do you see when you think of me?"

Aki chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine. "I see me and you – in that little black dress of yours – and the way your kisses tasted."

You felt a flush of warmth at his words, the intensity of your feelings bubbling up. "You probably shouldn't," you admitted. "You'll catch feelings."

"You're making it hard to stay focused on anything but you," Aki said, his voice growing more serious. 

You laughed softly. "You're good at this, you know. Making me feel like I'm the only person in the world."

"That's because you are," he said earnestly. "For me, anyway. Wanna talk about your day?"

You shifted in bed, pulling the blankets around you as if trying to draw closer to him through the phone. "I don't really feel like talking about it."

Aki's voice was tender and soothing. "That's fine. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?"

"I don't know," You sighed, the sound a mix of contentment and longing. You felt weak. "I just want to hear your voice. I need you."

"I need you too," he said, his voice softening. "I had a dream about you, you know? It felt like I was back in that hotel room with you again, watching you get ready to go home," A pause, then he added, "I should've made you miss that train."

You closed your eyes, letting the image of a shirtless Aki slipping into his work slacks flood your memory. "You're terrible."

He's one fine piece of ass.

Aki's laugh was deep and gentle, like the tides of the ocean tugging at the shore. "I am. I'm a terrible, rotten man, and it's all your fault. Have you been thinking about me, too?"

You glanced at the painting on the wall, feeling a pang of an emotion you couldn't quite place, "More than I'd like to admit."

"Hold on, I just heard something break in the kitchen. I think my nightmare roommate is up," Aki said. "I have to hang up. Promise you'll text and call more often, though. I've been worried sick."

"I promise," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your face flushed like you were a lovestruck schoolgirl. "Goodnight, Aki."

"Goodnight, troublemaker," he replied softly. "I'll be dreaming of you."

a/n: oh nooooooo... what do yall think is gonna happen? (i know, but yk....). but actually i hope you loved it, I loved writing sexy phone aki ugh it makes me wanna write more of him. I hope you all dont hate me too much for keeping them apart. (i'll make it up to u soon, trust.) anyway, QOTD: wyd if you were y/n? x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[emmyrosee]

GUESS WHO’S BACK!!! WITH ANOTHER RANT!!! your resident haikyuu simp, that’s who. (a simp who is currently listening to her friend argue w her bf send help this is so awkward)

Today I offer: sunarin teasing a (slightly) jealous reader.

Okay so let’s just say that your relationship was more on the private side- no one outside of friends, his teammates and family knew he was dating anyone. But you’ve been together for so long?? Like years. And his fans for some reason seem to think he’s been dating some other public figure (up to your imagination) bc they’ve been at the same events a couple times now and somehow keep ending up in pics together. These two have like, never spoken aside from awkward small talk to be polite. Very un-relationship like. So anyway. You’re starting to not like the fact that every single time you open social media you’re flooded with fan pages shipping them, and Suna picks up on this and just??? Posts you one day??? Randomly??? And it’s both the sweetest and most annoying thing ever bc aww cute caption and stuff but “really, rin, did you NEED to add the picture of us from two years ago when my hair looked like that?” (He might have also posted a suggestive pic of you two or a video of you kissing or something at the end and you just haven’t scrolled that far yet so he basks in the peace and hides away before he can hear your shriek when you realize hehe)

Either way it’s sweet and things calm down after that, but he teases you RELENTLESSLY about the fact you were jealous and makes it known that you’re the only one for him ever. and that he would never even make you jealous on purpose or anything, he just likes the feeling of belonging to you as much as you belong to him <3

I’m just soft for rin, my next couple rants might be suna-centric :3

anon <3

WOULD LIGHT MYSELF ON FIRE FOR ONE (1) SUNA RINTARO, HE IS THE LOML AND I WILL ABSOLUTELY DEVPUR ALL THE RINTARO RANTS-

Ahem.

He’s a shit. I love him so much.

Because like, yeah, okay, paparazzi are the worst, and while he’s still able to live his life like a standard person, he knows what people do to celebrities who are in relationships, and he doesn’t want to put you through that. Your friends respected that, his teammates completely close lipped -atsumu actually has it in his interview agreements he’s never to talk about any relationships, and honestly, it’s been a life saver for so many of his teammates- but nothings perfect.

Sometimes, like an idiot, Rin leaves the house with hickeys on full display. Just. Out and about. The media loves that, and usually, Rintaro doesn’t even care, whatever makes them happy.

But then it happens.

He gets out of a limo at a sponsor event, with a ‘mysterious woman,’ dress shirt wrinkled and tux closed haphazardly.

And of course, a hickey just above the pristine white collar.

This. Blows. Up.

Because of course it does, and of course people now assume this woman is the one who leaves marks on your boyfriends body, and how cool he is for dating someone uNdErGrOuNd and whatever the bloody hell they try to spew.

And it hurts, okay, because this woman- Atsumu’s stylist, literally because the man child can’t go one damned day without spilling something on himself, and that’s actually why she was helping Rin, dumbass spilt champagne all over his-damn-self- is very obviously not his partner, you are, and it’s just. It sucks watching them get fan edits and theories on how long they’re been together when you know the truth.

It turns you pretty sour towards him, almost resentful, and he tries to remind you that it’s just a rumor and you’re the only soul he’d ever want to be with, but it gets hard to believe when you open your Instagram and it’s about how stunning “Rin’s girlfriend” is.

And you, obviously, are not that person. You’re you.

Instead of sitting together, you’re sitting on one end of the couch, far from him; he tries to snuggle, and you get up and leave the room. Instead of holding his hand in the car, his hand tries desperately to paw for yours or even your thigh, just to hold onto you, but you turn towards the window. Instead of going with him places when he goes to see his buddies, you croak out an extremely sad “how about you go with the pretty lady who gives you hickeys?”

He feels bad for you, obviously. But in his own mind, he’s at his breaking point. He needs your attention and affection, he thrives and breathes and lives because of it, and now he’s losing his mind that he hasn’t had it for weeks.

So, against telling you, and hoping to smother any other rumors about himself and Atsumu’s stylist, he makes his post.

None of them have your whole face, maybe an eye or a smile or wearing a mask (he put some thought into this okay-) but it’s very obviously not the stylist. He posts a picture of a shadow in which your hands are holding, the next one is a picture you took, where your hand was shaped in half a heart and on the other end, he held up the other half to match, and finally, a video; one where he’s laying on top of you with his eyes closed, your hand in his hair and scratching his scalp while he sleepily mumbles how much he loves you (the last video is actually one he took of you suckling and marking up his neck, his raspy breath on the other end; extremely not safe for the internet, and naturally, when you saw that, you shit your pants and chased him with a shoe, but that’s not the point.)

It’s something he clearly wanted to fix, but also wanted to keep you as safe as possible. And you certainly appreciate it, and when you see what he did and how the comments are now hyping you up, you shuffle your way to find him. He’s on the couch, carding his own hair, and smiling up at you as you approach him.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and he shifts one of the legs sprawled out on the couch to rest on the floor so you can lay between them, which you do. “I hated being so far from you but… but I couldn’t-“

“I get it,” he assures, nosing softly at you. “It wasn’t fair to you. I know how much you hated it.”

“She was very pretty, though,” you confess, and he lowers his eyes to peek at you through his lashes.

“You think so?” He asks, shrugging as you nod. “Wasn’t really my type.”

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

can I get cowboy!reader with the flu, all feverish and sick and disoriented and maybe the team takes shifts going to watch him/give him some company because he lives all alone and they know he won’t take care of himself like he would for others.

Whether this is an opportunity for more romance to bloom or for him to just be seen as a bit vulnerable and human to the other members of the team, up to you. I think all his usual inhibitions would be lowered juuust enough to give the team a laugh. (bc in my mind he’s not a drinker, he doesn’t like the effect it has on people- making them violent etc)

- 🦕

Description: cowboy reader gets sick and makes some confessions. And it's what everyone's been waiting for.

Warnings: illness, mentions throwing up (no actual throwing up), cold/flu, mentions high temperature, reader feels rough, yeah

A/N: hopefully this is okay, i'm feeling a bit worried about this one but today has been a whirlwind and i finished this to relax and thought i'd post it now so hopefully it's okay. let me know what you think, even if it's criticism! (it's okay if you have ways in which you think i can improve!) also i'm panicking it reads as rushed so i'm very sorry if it does seem rushed but yeah let me know your thoughts!

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84

You had felt like shit by the end of the day and had drove home hoping it was just the consequence of a busy day. So, when you got home, you had immediately gotten dressed into your pajamas and quickly ate something and curled up under your covers and fell asleep.

This feeling, however, did not go away when you woke up the next morning. In fact, it had gotten so so so much worse. You couldn't bend down without your head feeling like it was going to explode. But still, you got dressed, grabbed a coffee and made your way to work. (You weren't one to give in to illness).

"You look rough." Morgan stated as you walked into the bullpen.

"'M fine," You mumbled, removing your hat and placing it on the desk as you tried to push the hair that was now stuck to your forehead back. "'m not even sick-"

"You need to go home." Hotch says as he joins the rest of the group, you shake your head, blinking any dots from your vision.

"No, I'm fine. I can still work," You insisted. Hotch studied you once more before sighing.

"If I agree to let you stay, I want you to stay at the police station,"

You sniffed slightly as you nodding, "Yessir,"

"And I want someone with you at all times."

"'M fine," You argued, "D'n't needta with someone,"

Hotch raised an eyebrow. Derek gave a small smirk, "Hey cowboy, did you know your drawl is this prominent when you're sick?"

"Ain't sick." You mumbled giving a sniff as you went to sit down.

"Before you sit down Cowboy, we've got a case." Garcia said a she walked passed you. You closed your eyes, trying to not groan.

You managed to get some shut eye on the jet after going over the case once more, cowboy hat on the desk as you rested your head against the cool window. Hopefully it wasn't too obvious how shit you felt.

When you woke up, your head seemed to be pounding in time with your heartbeat and it made you want to crawl under the covers and cry. But you ignore it, giving JJ a smile (trying not to wince at the pain that explodes through your head as a result).

And, as usual, you all hit the ground running. Normally, you loved your job, but not today. All you wanted to do was sleep.

It was now close to midnight and you genuinely thought that you might throw up. You hadn't really eaten much today, what with feeling ill, so that probably wasn't helping. You drew in a deep breath as you tried your best to focus on the profile written out in front of you.

"Come on Cowboy, you need to head back to the hotel." Morgan said, gently nudging your shoulder.

"'M fine." You huffed.

Morgan rolled his eyes but left you to it, instead, walking out of the room and fishing his phone out of his pocket.

"Oracle of all, how may I assist the?"

Derek smiled, "Hey baby girl, I need some advice, how do I get Cowboy to go to the hotel?"

Penelope gave a chuckle, "That's an easy question, at least give me a challenge." There was a small pause, "Is he okay?"

"He's refusing to accept he's ill."

"Get JJ to talk to him." Penelope said, Derek could practically hear the shrug as she spoke.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows, "Okay, are you sure that'll work?"

"Remember when he quit smoking?"

"Yeah."

"It was because JJ asked him to."

"Seriously?" Derek's jaw dropped, "Are they completely blind? Its obvious they're smitten."

"They're both too blind to see it. It's romantic really."

"It's painful."

"Alright, I'll give that a shot, thanks Mama,"

"Anytime, my Chocolate Thunder!" Garcia said before hanging up, just as JJ walked past.

"Oh! JJ, you need to talk to (Y/N), he's refusing to go back go the hotel and he looks like he's going to collapse at any moment."

JJ looked at Morgan and nodded, "I don't know why he's refusing to admit he's ill." She said, "But I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you!"

You looked up from your notes when you heard the door open, sending JJ a smile as she walked in. Feeling immediately a little bit more like yourself with her presence. "Hi," She smiled, "How you feeling?"

"'M not ill,"

"Yes you are." JJ said, voice firm, "And it's okay that you are, we all get ill. But you need to go back to the hotel and rest, otherwise you'll just feel worse."

"Can still help," You mutter and JJ shakes her head.

"Nope, no you can't," She said, "I'm sorry, but you need to go back to the hotel to get some rest."

"But-" You look at JJ before sighing. "Fine. Not happy 'bout it though,"

JJ rolls her eyes with a fond smile, "Come on, I'll drive you,"

She let Hotch know she was going to drive you back (ignoring Morgan's look of absolute shock), voicing her concerns about leaving you on your own at the hotel. Hotch's gaze shifted to you in the briefing room hunched over slightly as you tried to ignore the throbbing in your head.

"Do you think you could work from the hotel room?" JJ nodded, "Alright, stay with him for a little while, I'll send Prentiss or Morgan to the hotel in a bit."

"Alright, I'll take him back before he collapses or something," JJ half-joked as she quickly gathered her things. Turning to the door, she watched as you staggered in, trying your best to look as unphased as possible. "Ready to go?"

"Mhm," You hummed, clutching your hat tightly in your hands, "All good,"

You let your head fall against the window of the car, music playing gently, listening to JJ quietly singing along. Soon enough, you had reached the hotel and you were (despite feeling like shit) insisting on taking JJ's bag and coat. Eventually, she gave in and the pair of you headed to one of the hotel rooms.

When you got there, you put all your shame to one side and rummaged in your bag for your pajama's, grabbing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt you quickly make your way to the bathroom and get changed. You throw the clothes into your bag to sort out later. Taking some cold and flu medication you then fling yourself onto the bed (which if the pounding in your head said anything, it was a bad idea).

"How are you feeling?"

"Been better," You mumbled, you watch as she walks over to you. She places the back of her hand against your forehead slightly.

"You're running a high temperature," She mumbles.

You looked at her, giving her a dopey smile, having to refrain yourself from making a joke. Unfortunately, this means that something else (and much more private) sneaks out.

"I really like you," You said, reaching up to pat her cheek. "You're really pretty. N it really hurt my feelin's when you went on that date 'cause I think I love you n when I say think I mean I know."

JJ gives you a small smile as she brushes your hair off her forehead, "I feel the same,"

You both stare at each other for a moment, both living in denial before one of you said the inevitable. Taking a deep breath, you decide you would rather be the bad guy in this story than for JJ to feel guilty. It seems that whilst you were ill, you were still able to think somewhat coherently.

"We can't do anythin' about it." You said, furrowing your eyebrows heavily, "We work together,"

"I know," She answered, giving a small smile. "It's okay."

You both sat in silence, drinking in the other's presence. Seeing JJ frown, you interlock your hands, "You a'right?"

"I'm just tired," She said, giving you a small smile, "You must be too with that fever you're running,"

You hummed slightly as you relaxed, letting your head gently fall against the pillow. "Very," JJ smiled at the thick twang of your accent peaking through in your tiredness.

"Get some sleep, I'll wake you for your next round of meds," She joked lightly, you gave a small smile as your eyes fluttered shut.

JJ kept her smile until she was sure your eyes were fully closed and then she let her smile drop. Perhaps there would be some day in the near future when neither of you would care about whether or not your jobs allowed you to date.

[ugh-yoongi]

Jewel, I know your requests are closed but I desperately need to hear your thoughts on who in BTS would do this: https://www.tumblr.com/writing-prompt-s/739417828719034368/you-a-powerful-demoness-have-just-been-summoned

and why is it Namjoon (the potential for crack with this 148 IQ man who is also way more innocent than we think acc to one park jimin just takes me out)

i'm so sorry it took me so long to finish and post this but thank you so much for sending it bc i have been cackling about this scenario ever since.

the prompt: you, a powerful demoness, have just been summoned to earth. this man, this human, wants you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a few days so his parents will get off his back about it.

the gang summons a demon

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: supernatural au; crack warnings: reader is a demon and engages in demon behavior, swearing, namjoon makes mention of not being straight, heteronormative parental expectations, jk learns about arcane things on tumblr (which is not an original idea; i read a fic ages ago where taekook are tumblr witches but i cannot find it, so credit to that author or whoever came up with it first), unedited so any mistakes are mine. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 2k

It’s been years since you’ve been to Earth—even longer since you’ve been to South Korea.

“I haven’t been here since 1910,” you say, staring at the gobsmacked man across from you. He’s tall, with tanned skin and a bleached buzz cut; a smattering of tattoos dotting his toned arms—whites and rich hues of blue, imitations of some kind of ceramic art, you think; a golden hoop through his nose; cheeks with dimples so deep you’re sure they’ll crater. “People here definitely didn’t look like you back then, so I’m going to assume we’re pretty far into the future.”

“It’s 2024,” he answers, seemingly still a little dazed. He’s staring at you with wide eyes, jaw dropped. Normally it’s nice to be looked at like that, with all the reverence and awe you deserve, but Earth is not your favorite place to be. Doesn’t even crack the top fifty, if you’re being honest. “Did you say 1910? As in the beginning of the—”

You sigh. “Uh-huh. Hey, if you wouldn’t mind hurrying this up, I’ve got things to do.” The man continues staring. Could be a trick of the light, but you think he’s turning paler by the second.

Minutes tick by. Nothing but silence.

“Are you even listening to me?” you snarl, quickly losing patience you were never given. “I said I’ve got shit to do. My schedule’s booked solid for the next eight centuries, so I really don’t have time to be dilly-dallying in mundane human affairs. Your problems are always so boring.”

More silence.

Which is irksome, sure, but what’s worse is this stupid fucking circle you’re trapped in. Drawn crudely on the floor of (seemingly) this human man’s actual apartment, which would’ve told you all you’d needed to know, if you’d taken ten seconds to take in your surroundings upon first being summoned. This place has got books stacked floor to ceiling in every available inch of space, but you’re certain this person is a fucking idiot.

“Hello?”

The man shakes his head. “Oh, sorry, I just—I’m Namjoon? Kim Namjoon.”

“I don’t care.”

“Right, right.” He sucks in a deep breath. “Well, you’re probably wondering why I summoned you here today”—you roll your eyes—“and, uh.” Namjoon scratches at the back of his neck, anxiety oozing from every pore on his body. Definitely paler. “I am too, to be honest.”

“You what—”

“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon hurriedly adds, all of that anxiety shifting quickly into pure panic. “It’s just—it was a joke! Mostly! Jeongguk said it as a joke, because everything he says is a joke, and I should’ve known that, but—I don’t know! I’ve tried everything else, and the longer its gone on the more desperate I’ve become, and suddenly what Jeongguk said as a joke didn’t sound so much like a joke anymore! I’m sorry! I didn’t think it’d actually work!”

It takes your brain a minute to translate and decipher the useless slush that just came out of his mouth, but when it does… oh, when it does, you feel absolutely murderous. “You summoned me as a joke?”

Namjoon must see it, too. There’s no way you’re looking cool, calm, and collected right now, because you’ve seen the faces of others that have witnessed your wrath, and they were almost always on the brink of (if not outright) shitting their pants. This stupid, clueless human in front of you doesn’t appear to be faring much better.

So you continue, just to watch him squirm. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Um,” comes his brilliant response. “Yes?”

“And who am I?”

He holds up his pointer finger and digs through the back pocket of his jeans. Pulls out a crumbled scrap of paper, nearly soiled from ass sweat and time, and his eyes squint as he tries to read it. “I—well, it’s probably not an accurate translation, you know, since—”

“What does that piece of parchment say, Kim Namjoon?”

“Nothing,” he lies. “I can’t read it anyway, so… a-haaa…”

Patience officially worn thin, you snap your fingers, delighting in the startled shriek that escapes him as the paper goes up in a plume of smoke. “I am going to give you one chance to be honest with me,” you explain slowly, leveling him with a look. “Who do you think I am, and why am I here?”

Namjoon pales further. Looks like he’s trying to melt right through the floor into a puddle of useless slush, and you’d be more than willing to speed up the process if it weren’t for this god forsaken demon trap.

“Can I—can I sit down for this?”

Kim Namjoon, you learn, has a friend named Jeon Jeongguk.

Jeon Jeongguk, you also come to learn, has learned magic from a website called Tumblr.

“There, uh. There are definitely blogs for that sort of thing,” Namjoon explains, tattooed fingers scratching at the back of his neck. He takes a very quick glance at you. “Clearly not very accurate ones.”

You hum. “That’s the only smart thing I’ve heard you say since I showed up in this shithole.”

Namjoon gawks. “Hey, my apartment isn’t a shithole! It’s the best I could afford, alright? There was just an article in The Business Times about how archaic of a system jeonse is—”

“Uh-huh. And this… website?”

Namjoon goes red. Coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, yeah. I’m gonna be honest with you—”

“I already said that—”

“—my parents are coming to visit from Ilsan in a few days and I need a girlfriend.”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. Long enough to replace the rug that had been pulled from under you, because you’re pretty sure you heard this human man allude to having summoned you so you can pretend to be his girlfriend.

All things considered, you’re impressed by how calm you are. This is not a trait most demons have, you especially, and it makes you nostalgic for the days you used to rip men apart limb by limb for less.

“Are you insane?” you ask simply.

“In my defense,” he explains around a wince, “Jeongguk said it was a love spell.”

“A love spell.” Namjoon nods. “And you wound up summoning a demon.”

“It… appears I may have done that, yes.”

“And you want a demon to meet your parents?”

“I mean… when in Rome, right?”

“I’ve committed at least four-hundred and sixty-seven separate atrocities there, so no, probably not when in Rome.”

Namjoon’s jaw drops. He tucks his knees closer to his chest. “Christ, that’s a lot. How did you have the time?”

“I’m immortal,” you deadpan.

“Right, right. Anyway, to answer your question: yes.”

Your eyes narrow. “How bad are your parents that you’d want me to meet them?”

“They’re fine, mostly. I just… am not what they expected in a son? Like, I have the hair and the tattoos and I dropped out of my engineering program in university to pursue art and poetry, so the least I could do is find a wife and settle down and give them grandchildren, but I don’t even know if I want to ever settle down. I’m also not… heterosexual? Entirely? Do you see that a lot—”

You sigh. “Misconception. Not to launch you into some kind of existential crisis, but the gods really don’t give a shit who you humans sleep with.”

“Gods? As in plural?” You snap your fingers. Namjoon’s fingers immediately go to his temples. “Damn, I have a really bad migraine all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, that was me.”

“What’d you do?”

“Made you forget something.”

“Oh. What’d I forget?” It takes a second. “Oh, right, yeah. Um. What was the last thing I said?”

“Your parents wanted you to be an engineer and have a ton of kids but you like art and also not-women, sometimes.”

He flushes again. “I—yes.”

You sigh, arms crossed over your chest. All you want to do is sit down, or open a window. This apartment smells far too strongly of patchouli. “Look, I haven’t been to this place in a long time, but surely you aren’t undesirable by your society’s standards.”

“Are you saying I’m attractive?”

You scowl. “No. I’m saying there had to have been easier ways of doing this, and also can you open a window?”

“It’s February.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“It’s really cold outside.”

“I’m literally from Hell. Go put on a sweater, then.”

With a roll of his eyes, Namjoon stands and moves to the window. Cracks it open a millimeter, just enough for the cold to seep in, before he’s stalking off toward—you’re assuming—his bedroom. You think he’s shoving a garment over his head when he calls out, “You know, you’re really fucking bossy for someone stuck in a trap.”

You vow to kill him as soon as you’re free.

It isn’t often you’re held hostage.

Usually you can spot a trick coming a thousand miles away, but since Namjoon hadn’t meant to summon you at all, you’d been caught unawares. Doomed to be stuck in a demon trap, just like he’d said, which meant you didn’t have a ton of bargaining power.

At least that’s what you’re telling yourself, because as you sit across from Namjoon’s parents at some fancy restaurant, you aren’t convinced he isn’t a crossroads demon himself.

“So,” his mother begins, turning her attention to you, “what do you do for work?”

Namjoon elbows you beneath the table, giving you a silent warning to stick to the script. You’re only here under threat of force—because Jeongguk had stopped by Namjoon’s apartment, saw you in the summoning circle, and nearly fainted before going back to Tumblr to find a binding spell.

Except that one wasn’t great, either, because it only bound you and Namjoon together for three days instead of forever. And, as penance for all the chaos you’ve sown across the universe, Namjoon’s parents’ visit fell within that time frame, so here you are.

Out to dinner. With humans.

You’re pretending to be someone’s girlfriend.

You’re in for the most embarrassing ribbing of your existence once you’re home.

“I work with idols,” you respond, as convincingly as possible, because Namjoon had thought it’d be really funny. Get it? he’d said. Like false idols? You hadn’t laughed. “It’s very secretive, of course, but—”

You don’t finish your thought, because Namjoon’s mother looks delighted: face lit up with mirth, smile blinding, eyes half-lidded under the weight of her happiness. “Oh, how exciting! Has he told you he used to do performances to old H.O.T songs? Namjoonie, what was that one song you liked—”

“Eomma, please—”

“Wasn’t it ‘Candy’?” Namjoon’s dad offers from behind his menu. It’s the first thing he’s said all evening.

Namjoon whimpers, foregoing all social decorum and lectures on posture to sink further in his chair.

You do not, under any circumstances, feel a hint of fondness.

(Which dissipates not even twenty-four hours later.

“The blog was deleted,” Jeongguk says, eyes wide as saucers. “I—the blog is gone, I don’t know how to—”

“What do you mean the blog is gone?” The poor kid is overcome with panic and fear, tries to stutter out a response that makes no sense to you at all through his sobs. “Jeon Jeongguk, what do you mean the blog is gone?”

“I—it’s—I had it bookmarked, I swear! Once the binding spell wore off I was gonna send it to Namjoon hyung so he could send you back, but the blog is gone so the post is gone, too. I don’t—what do I even search for—oh my god, please don’t kill me, I think I’m having a panic attack, I’m gonna—”

And then this human man vomits all over your feet. Namjoon sighs as he goes to fetch a bucket, and you think it’ll be a miracle if any of these people—yourself included—live to see the end of the week.)

[nqify]

nsfw headcanons. — miles quaritch ☆

pairings. fem!reader. na’vi!miles quaritch!

content warnings. literally smut y’all. so get ready

note. First post OMF #scared

okay first off. Pet names. We all know this fucker gives you pet names. We can all agree on this!!

headcanon this man to call you ma, or mama, like y’all, he most def says that to his s/o listen, “look at you ma, feel this big cock huh? Feels good doesn’t it mama??”ANYWAYS

shit like baby, babygirl, pretty girl, princess, darling! just the basics and we love it!! “hi princess, u look very pretty today” or “what’s wrong babygirl?” Or or “cmon pretty girl do a little twirl for daddy” yeah BRO!

this man loves eating pussy. And I mean he loves it!!! he’ll have ur thighs pressed against your chest as your hands struggle to find smth to hold onto. Quaritchs massive hand (ohmygod) is placed right above the back of your knee for support as his other hand is spreading your pretty pussy wide for him. and oh he loves it

his tongue flicking your abused clit while he hums, knowing it drives you crazy!!!! “pretty girl has such a pretty pussy”

sometimes he’ll pick up by the bottom half of your body, lifting you up and eat u out like it’s no tmrw. He wants you to see how good he’s pleasuring you. Bc we all know no one is doing it better then him duh???

certified dirty talker. my GOD he loves it. He loves talking you through your orgasms. the way your pussy flutters around him when he says things like, “yeah?, you like that?, you like when I fuck you this like baby?” or “look at you, taking me so well, what a pretty slut”.

to add on, he also likes it when you response back, especially when your overwhelmed with the amount of pleasure your under. The way you close ur teary eyes and gasp for air as you try to come up with words rlly gets this man going. He’d taunt you like, “c’mon baby, tell me where you want this big dick, you want it in your throat?? Ur pretty pussy?, cmon tell daddy” and you would just whine, grinding against his hardening bulge, hoping he’d take that as an answer. BUT OH NO!!!, “you’re a big girl aren’t you?, use ur words”

gulp bitch gulp. You’d stutter out, “p-please, in me, want you in me” this fucker needs you to be dead on specific, “uh uh baby, I need to know where, you want me in here?” He places the flat side of his thumb on ur bottom lip and drags your mouth slowly open, you shake your head, “then where?” this cocky fucker

ur dripping at this point and he knows it FOR SURE!!! “want your cock inside my pussy, please, please miles need it so bad” he grins knowing how much control he has over you.

na’vi babes!! this little shit will pull your tail during doggy style!! He’ll have you on ur fours while ur ass is in the air and your head is pressed against the sheets. one day this fucker saw u sway ur tail in front of him as he was hitting it from the back and got the urge just to pull it, and he did.

he’ll use your tail to push himself deeper and deeper into you where he’ll get down low, grab your hand and bring it to your belly to feel the bulge he’s making, “fuck, baby, you feel that?, you feel me inside you huh?” actually creaming.

you CAN NOT tell me this guy is not into breath play. like hello his hands??? quaritch loves having his hands around your throat when he’s fucking you missionary. Seeing your pretty eyes swell up with tears as you struggle to breathe because of HIM!!!! OH HE LOVES IT.

he’s drilling into you, one hand on your hip while the other is tightening around your neck. you can’t help but smirk a little. shit drives him through the roof when you do that. “shit, princess, you’re nasty as fuck. You smiling while taking this dick huh?? yeah, good girl”

SPEAKING OF THAT??!?!$:!$(( PRAISE KINK. Yep yep yep. he’ll praise the living shit out of you. you’d be taking his cock down your throat and he’ll just softly grab you hair to make you look up at him and he’ll say some shit like, “good girl baby, look at you taking my cock so well, fuck, you make daddy feels so good” pussy is aching.

I think he rlly likes it when u also praise him, like the subtle, “miles, feels so good.” Like when he’s eating your pussy he loves it when you say stuff like, “pls, want more, feels so good”, “right there, miles pls, ur so good at this”

SIZE KINK!!!!! bc he wants u to be vocal and say shit this dude will LOVE you saying, “I-it’s so big, too b-big baby” shit driving him WILD. “I know u can take it princess, cmon just a few more to go, it’s nearly in” and you would just whine about how big he is and how much it fills you up so well

okay, breeding kink. yeah stfu y’all, WE ALL AGREE ON THIS. The idea of having you pregnant with his child. Yeah shit you better run!!! He’s gonna pump you full of his cum over and over again. “yeah? Wanna be a mama? want daddy to fill you up with his cum mm?? isn’t that right princess??”

requests are open!! Feel free to ask me anything!! lemme write about how much y’all love miles quaritch PLS🙏

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 44

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Block, Punch, Dodge by @chasing-the-sterek

"You're not bad," Keith says. "I'm going to take that as a compliment and not think about the implication that you thought I was going to be terrible," Lance shoots back, eyes tracking Keith's hand when it twitches towards his hip. /// In which Lance is a secret badass, Keith is surprisingly not as emotionally constipated as normal and everyone cheats at least little bit.

LANCE SANCHEZ KEITH GYEONG RIGHTS ALL DAY EVERY DAY ALL THE FUCKING TIME NEVER ENDING. this is actually one of the first vld klance fic every posted!! a national treasure fr. poweful younger sibling lance my love and light. he is badass and annoying and i love him so bad

2. Tongue Tied by WinterAndLittleBrunettes

Lance and Keith have been dating for a couple months, but have kept their new status under wraps from their families until they were sure this relationship was worth something. Now that they've found that, they decide to tell Lance's family together at the monthly family dinner. But, things don't exactly go as planned.

i will forever and always be obsessed with the secret relationship trope. always always. and its BETTER when its revealed and then the mcclains are like FUCK yeah keith is our BOY finally you make a good decision!!! iconique

3. Secrets and Lavender by VertigoReader101

Lance rolled his eyes. “Not like you know anything about love, Pidge podge.” “And you do?” Pidge questioned. Lance’s eyes subconsciously glanced over to Keith who was stubbornly looking straight ahead, but you could tell he was listening closely. “I’d like to think so.” ````````````````````` Or five times Lance was jealous but couldn't say anything and the one time that he punches someone in the face.

i will ALWAYS love this fic!! the way they love each other so fiercely but they don't trust the world with them yet!!! like!! but they want to. they want to be out and proud but there is patience that needs to work its way through them and their relationship. the way lavender is woven so so intricately through the entire fic...crying and screaming

4. Frilly Apron by @ficletsandthelike

Pidge just wanted some food goo, but disgustingly sweet secret dates might be even better.

more secret relationship bc truly who is going to stop me. also, we as a fandom have failed in implementing a pidge and keith rivalry. this fic is so dorky and funny

5. Rough Cut by zenstrike

The war effort makes demands of everyone. or, that time the paladins are forced to go on a hunt for a diamond and Lance makes everything a little more difficult for Keith.

I WILL ALWAYS BE SO SO OBSESSED WITH ZENSTRIKE. for starters they have written probably one of my favourite klance series of all times. they are the MASTERS of klance being knowing and quietly loving and right on the precipice of falling again and again and again. this fic in particular is so fucking funny and comes with the added bonus of allura losing her whole entire shit at the dumbass mission they're sent on lol

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[iipaibai]

Erza, Julia, Mirajane hc (NSFW) with dom!male!reader.

a/n: worked 8 hours today, working 9 hours tomorrow, yet nothing compares to the amount of time i’ll spend rereading this and smiling at being able to have the courage to post this and simultaneously suck so hard at writing for a dom male pov. #notthebrightest #slaygirlboss

*——————————————————————*

ERZAA

-erza would def be an obedient sub. like.. have you SEEN the way she shrinks back when shes speaking to someone of a higher power???

-a big plus for that requip too btw

-she would go above and beyond to make you feel the best you can-not just for you, but for her as well. like she would suck you off till you dropped. Alternate ending for pleasure doms: she’d take about 7-8 orgasms before she fainted.

-out in the day, she seems like the dom in your guys relationship. everyone even makes jokes that she pegs you. but behind closed doors is when shit gets real.

-it’s almost sad to see how much she just wants to be on her knees all the time, pleasing you.

-even you mocking her doesn’t sway her. The nastiest things you could think of still wouldn’t be enough to wake her from her cockhungry trance.

-“Titania, queen of the fairies, sucking my dick. whining all pretty and breathy just for her (daddy/master/god/etc). does she like it? hm? awww those tears in your eyes say that you do~”

-def a deepthroating queen. she doesn’t have a gag reflex bc it’s easier to survive without one

-a widely respected sorceress among EVERYONE so knowing that so many people respect her makes it all the more pathetic when she whines for you to just stop teasing and finally put it in

-can deal with monstrous size but truly prefers a smaller cock.

-she does everything for you and you alone. whether it be sucking your cock until your eyes roll into the back of your head, or letting you do whatever you wanted to her-as long as it made you feel good, she’d sacrifice herself for you, let alone your pleasure. ❤️

————————————————————————

JUVIAA

-juvia is a brat. she CAN be obedient, if you really liked it, but she doesn’t want to be.

-once you start dating her, you get a glimpse of her playful side and see that past that relatively obedient exterior, she’s actually a little disobedient and lowk a brat

-she wants to be restricted, restrained, unable to move at all. she wants to be in pain so much and be put back in her place

-she purposefully upsets you so that you get angry and pin her against the wall, nearly crushing her wrists in the process

-“you think you’re fucking funny? lets see how long you’ll stay laughing when i shut your brain off by chaining you to the bed and leaving a vibrator in while I go take a fucking nap. should we time it”

-she can last very long. VERYY long.

-do i even need to clarify that she’s a squirter?

-she loves feeling helpless, alone, terrified, and she’s definitely into predator/prey.

-your guys’ favorite activity is when you let her loose in the forest right by the Fairy Tail guild with a blindfold on. she stumbles around, trying so hard to see through it and feel her way instead of running when she suddenly feels your hands on her, whispering lowly in her ear.

“gotcha.”💙

————————————————————————

MIRAAAA

-to me, mira would be a pleasure dom. but, for the sake of this, she’ll have a pretty similar personality in bed as she does out in the world

-she isn’t exactly as obedient as Erza is behind closed doors, but she’s also nowhere near as bratty as Juvia.

-she’s a good mix of housewife and back alley street whore but instead of money it’s oz of your cum

-she’s so genuinely embarrassed about the things that turns her on because she knows that if word ever got out, it would be the end of her career at Fairy Tail. she thinks that if she ever told anyone about anything she was into, she would instantly get fired and shunned. (She’s into light choking and praise-degradation)

-not too much degradation, because just as she’s very pretty, she’s the same amount to fragile, mentally.

-but also not too much praise otherwise she feels like she’s being lied to.

-her favorite line of yours? probably the time she spilled a glass of orange juice on your limited edition “how to dominate in bedwars” in the morning after she stayed up all night, flipped out about it, tried to clean it off. But then you stood up, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into your warm body while you wrapped your arms around her and whispered softly into her ear. “it’s okay, my love. someone as beautiful as you should never have to fret about something so trivial. you’re okay, it’s okay. it’s all going to be just fine.” 🤍

[neewtmas]

Hello hello! Could I please request George x gn!reader either sharing an umbrella in the rain or being caught out in a storm and having to find shelter together? 😊 thanks in advance, love your writing!

Kisses In The Rain

A/N: omg when I tell you I threw my phone through the room when I saw you requested something??? This is so nerve-wracking to post bc I love your writing omg🥹 i hope you like it!! The idea was the cutest, and I just decided to do both🤭

pairing: george karim x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

masterlist

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You closed the door of 35 Portland Row and adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder before you turned around. The bright sunlight made you squint your eyes. For a moment, you just closed them and enjoyed the warmth on your skin. It was a lovely day, the sky bright blue and no clouds in sight, and that was a rarity in London. You were meeting up with George at the Archives today and decided to walk instead of taking a cab. This weather ought to be taken advantage of. A slight breeze ruffled your hair as you walked through the streets, a slight spring in your step. You were feeling good - the weather and the prospect of spending an entire day with George lifted your mood immensely.

It didn't take long before you arrived at the Archives and found George sitting at the table you usually shared, surrounded by books, nose buried in a particularly heavy one. As usual, he was so focused that he didn't hear you coming, and so you took the opportunity. You quietly moved behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso and squeezing. "Hi, George", you whispered in his ear.

He gasped, the book he had been holding up slamming on the table, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "Y/N!", he hissed, wriggling out of your embrace. You just chuckled to yourself and sat down on the chair opposite to him. George cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair a few times before returning to his book. You smiled softly as you watched him search over the page with his finger, trying to find where he left off. His ears were tinted pink and you could tell he was flustered by the way he flexed his hands while reading. You loved the effect you had on George in situations like this. You were just lucky he didn't know what effect he could have on you.

The next few hours you spent reading, scribbling down notes, every now and then showing each other a particularly interesting paragraph. Time flew by, like always when you and George hung out.

It was late afternoon when you finally packed up your stuff, ready to head home. You stretched your arms over your head, your stiff muscles protesting after being in a seated position for so long. You and George made your way through the long aisles of bookshelves, down a few stairs until you reached the foyer. Outside, the air was still warm like in the morning, but the atmosphere felt heavy.

"That does not look good", remarked George, critically eyeing the big, towering heaps of dark clouds that had taken the place of the sun. "Do we take a cab?" you asked.

"We might be fine if we hurry."

As it turned out, you were absolutely not fine. You had walked for just about five minutes when the first heavy raindrop hit your cheek. When you looked up, there was no trace left of the blue sky you had woken up to this morning. The wind had picked up considerably, blowing leaves over the sidewalk. In the distance, thunder rumbled. Raindrops began to fall, quickly beginning to turn into a heavy downpour.

"Shit shit shit", George mumbled and started to rummage around in his bag. You looked around to see if there was maybe a cab or at least someplace dry where you could find shelter, but the street was deserted.

"Aha!" You turned back to George to see the reason for his excitement. He held up a little umbrella. "I knew I was gonna be useful." He opened it up, inspecting it briefly. "It is a little small though. I hope you don't mind?" He smiled at you, a little bashful, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Of course you didn't mind. "Why would I?" you asked, linking arms with him. He quickly averted his eyes, but you were sure you saw a blush creep up his face. The rain intensified further as you walked down the street, impossibly close together under the small umbrella that didn't do a very good job of keeping the rain away.

Soon, everything from your chest down was soaked, as the rain now splattered down, driven under your umbrella by gushes of wind that became stronger by the minute. The temperature had fallen quickly, and suddenly you wished you had packed a jacket this morning. George was gripping the umbrella handle tightly, the wind threatening to rip it from his hand. He leaned closer to you, his breath brushing over your ear. "We should try to find shelter, don't you think?" Now it was your turn to be flustered. You just nodded.

The wind kept jerking at the umbrella and George's knuckled turned white, trying to hold it in place. But to no avail. Booming thunder sounded through the rain as a particularly forceful gust picked it up. George's fingers slipped off the handle, and immediately the wind took the umbrella, blowing it high up in the sky. George cursed loudly, looking after it. There was no chance of retrieving it. You pointed down the street, where you could barely make out the logo of a little corner store through the heavy rain that had immediately soaked you to the bone. George seemed to understand because he grabbed your hand and together, you sprinted through the rain.

The ground was littered with puddles, some big, some small, but you didn't care to avoid them. At this point, you couldn't get much more wet anyways. But that was a mistake. You didn't have enough time to register what was happing when your foot caught in something and you tripped and stumbled. Your hand scraped over the wet concrete as you caught yourself right before you landed face-first in the giant puddle beneath you. George was still gripping your hand and immediately pulled you up again with all the strength he could muster. But the momentum was too much - you collided with his chest, and without thinking about it, he wrapped his arm around you to stop you from falling a second time.

You stared at him, your mind still processing the fall and the fact that you suddenly were so close to him, pressed up against his chest. His one hand was still holding yours, the other gripping your waist, keeping you in place. You were so close that you could count every single freckle, every drop of rain on his face. His curly hair stuck wetly to his forehead, and you couldn't resist the temptation to gently brush it to the side. As you lowered your hand again, his cheeks were flushed, but this time, he did not look away. Instead, he studied your face intently, like you were the most fascinating person he had ever laid his eyes on.

You couldn't help feeling flustered under his intense gaze. Suddenly you were hyper-aware of how close you really were. Just leaning in a little would be enough… George seemed to have the same thought because he leaned down impossibly closer, until his lips were ghosting over yours. You held your breath, butterflies jittering around in your stomach and you closed your eyes in anticipation.

But what you anticipated never came. Instead, deafening thunder tore through the air, startling you into opening your eyes again. George immediately let go of you, almost jumped away, and you suddenly had the sinking feeling that you misread the entire situation terribly. George looked at you wide-eyed, and you could not for the life of you read his expression. What was he thinking?

Without a word, he grabbed your arm - not your hand - and pulled you over to the little corner store, that was closed but at least provided some shelter from the rain if you kept close to the walls. You were still dazed from the almost-kiss you just shared out there in the rain - was it an almost-kiss? Or was that just what you wanted it to be?

You tried to get some of the water out of your hair and wipe off your face, and it took only a few seconds of being out of the rain for you to start shivering violently. Every piece of clothing on your body was soaking wet. George looked over to you, and without a word, he got out of his jacket, crossed the short distance between you and carefully draped it over your shoulders. His hands lingered there, and you could tell that he didn't know what to do.

"(name)-" he started, but you decided whatever it was that he wanted to say, you didn't need to hear it. You took a quick step closer, cupping his face and pressing a kiss on his lips. Immediately, you pulled back again, gauging his reaction. He looked at you stunned, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, lips slightly parted. Your heart was beating so loud you were scared he was gonna hear it as you searched for his eyes, for confirmation that this was what he wanted. "Do it again" he whispered, barely audible.