#this was a repost of a repost so idk who it belonged to

[lunarharp]

scribbly first date type affair (continuation of my modern au stuff)

[arminsumi]

Hi! I hope ur having a good time. Sorry, for the phrasing, English is not my first language hehe (｡>\\<) btw i really like ur writing! u keep them in character and also ur amazing at writing fluff ♡(੭´͈ ��� `͈)੭ can I please ask for a gojo fluff where he realizes reader always wanted to have a small boyfriend to like call him baby boy to sit on her lap and spoil him and stuff and then gojo goes apeshit like trying to sit on her with his long ass limbs trying to be a babyboy idk hehehe anyways tysm

"I'm your baby boy, right?"

GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Satoru thinks he's smaller than he actually is, and tries curl up on you like a cat.

Note : hey hey! srry i took so long to write this omggg it got lost in my drafts. but!! it's such a sweet idea thank u for sending it in!! big beefy satoru trying to make himself ur small boy is a thought that gave me life 💗😖 and thank u so much for ur kind words it means a lot!!

Satoru tries to curl up on you as if he's a little cat.

But he's not.

Ah, but he really thinks he is sometimes.

And he wants to be a little cat to you, not a big burly man or a strong intimidating menace but just a small, soft, delicate thing to be held and touched and pampered with love and care.

It makes you laugh, as you listen to him grunting and struggling to position himself on your lap and get those long limbs in order — it's one of the funniest sights; a big boy trying to box himself up like he's not 6'3 with broad-shoulders 'n thick arms 'n long spider-like legs.

"Do you think you're a cat or something?"

"Yes." he grins dumbly, balancing precariously on you as you sit. Then he sees your smile and slips off. "—oopsfuck!" he falls, gets up, acts it off, then tries again.

In bed, he wiggles down the sheets so his head is level with your chest. He wraps his arms around your middle, arches his back, and encases you between his legs. He clings to your body on his side like that, and snuggles his cheek on your chest as if it's his rightful pillow, the place where he belongs.

"Play with my hair, please?" he mumbles with pouty lips.

He smiles to himself when you fulfil his request.

Feeling both your warmth and your fingers stroking lovingly through his hair makes him drowsy. And when he's drowsy, he mumbles mental notes like "we need to buy orange juice tomorrow..." as he falls asleep.

His grip slackens as he falls asleep. In the middle of the night, he'll wake up and look at you with that puffy pouty sleepy face of his and stare for a moment, appreciating you, before tightening his embrace on your body and returning to slumber.

When he wakes up the next morning with you, he makes the same request; "Play with my hair." but with a raspy voice.

While you do so, he groaningly complains about having had nightmares all night.

"I keep dreamin' about saving the world 'n failing... but it's fine. I wake up and you're right here. So nothin' to worry about. Doesn't matter if I fail if I still have you."

He's so happy to be getting spoiled and pampered by you while curling his body up as small as possible. Happy that he has someone he doesn't have to be big and strong around. Someone who he can be a baby boy around.

Sometimes he's resting on your chest in the mornings in silence, when suddenly he rears his head up and asks "I'm your baby boy, right? Say it, please."

"Mhm. You're my baby boy, Satoru. Don't worry."

"Mm yay." he smiles to himself and resumes resting on you, his white hair tickling under your chin. "Say it again, please. Just keep saying it."

So you do, you say it repeatedly and it sounds like a soft lullaby to him. He falls back asleep with his ear pressed to your heartbeat, and feels a safe warmness in his chest.

"Oh." he startles out of his shallow sleep, "We need to buy orange juice, don't we?"

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[faetreides]

summary: paul atreides x plus sized afab servant!reader

cw: power imbalance, somnophilia (dubcon in my mind as the reader wouldn’t push him away if they woke up but feel free to skip this if you could feel icked out by it), petplay (cheated again and didn’t make it explicit but it’s very petplay coded in a way), size difference (paul’s the skinny bf that would fall over if a gust of wind was strong enough), paul eats reader out, crack treated seriously vibes bc he’s so awkward 💀, ambiguous somno occasion (like how the reader fell asleep), implications of improper use of the voice but it’s weak for this paul era so reader could probably push against it, possible dune lore inaccuracies idk don’t think just vibe

wc: 1k +

block & move on if uncomfortable !!!

don’t repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

You’re having the same dream again. Paul Atreides, the duke’s son who you are tasked with looking after is the star.

He looms over you as you lie flat on your back, though in your dream you’re never in your servant’s quarters. No, the surrounding walls bear a more striking resemblance to Paul’s bedroom. You’re always groggy in the dream, which is a strange feeling to have when you usually are profoundly awake in your other dreams.

You’ve only been having this one since you arrived on Caladan from a smaller planet with no name that they took ownership of. Paul Atreides had seemed to seek you out like a moth to a flame, making a beeline for you and demanding in front of your mother that his father hire you. Even weirder was the fact that the ships belonging to the Atreides left immediately after you agreed to go with them, as if the trip had only one purpose.

“Shh, mouse, it’s just me. Don’t wake up.” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against yours and pecking your lips.

You lie there in a daze, eyes wide and mouth agape as Paul reaches for the fastenings of your top. It’s an orange silk number he gifted you, all your clothes are. Your breaths come out in shallow pants, the disbelief that Paul Atreides would be disrobing you with the intent to bed you is overwhelming. He gives your plush curves loving squeezes as he reveals more and more skin.

Eventually you’re stark naked under him. You sluggishly try to cover yourself with your hands but Paul swiftly knocks them aside, pinning them to your sides so he can drink in the mouth watering image. You have no idea how many dreams he has had of you, ones concerning moments like these and ones about the life you’ll experience together in between. A gaggle of tiny feet playing tag around his throne, domestic mornings of blissful silence waltzing in the dining room.

“I…. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you, i swear it.” Your heart skips a beat, despite knowing very well that this is all some passing fancy. Dreams never have to see the light of day, so you can luxuriate in your delusions.

Paul leans down to shakily mouth at your collarbone, scraping his teeth against the skin and playing with your love handles. You whimper as he litters your rough skin with love bites, you open your mouth to apologize that it’s not as smooth as a noble consort’s would be, but something in the way he shoves his tongue in your mouth to silence you tells you he somehow already knows.

You poke and pull at his dark shirt, the fine black material feeling like heaven but you’d rather it cover your garments next to the bed.

Paul chuckles, nipping at your lips and pulling back to shirk his clothing off. He throws it across the room and goes back to kissing his way down your thick body. Once he reaches your stomach, he takes extra special care to dote on the rolls of skin, softly kissing and pressing his forehead against them.

“You would be a beautiful bride, you know…”

“Um… thank you, sir.” You squirm, all the attention on someone like you from someone like your employer’s son becoming too real. The Paul Atreides would sooner be lost to the sands of Arrakis than utter those words to you in the waking world, but perhaps your long harbored infatuation has leaked into your subconscious.

He smiles, as if charmed by your shyness. “You’re welcome, mouse.”

His favorite nickname for you, given to you due to your adorable scurrying around to avoid others and shy high pitched squeaks that you use instead of words. (Also because he saw you crouch in a corner and nibble on a piece of bread that you had managed to snag from the table.)

He sits back on his heels to grab your thighs, the skin bulging in between his fingers. He draws you into a slow and sensual kiss as he pushes them apart and sinks into the empty space. You squeak in shock when you feel something stiff press against your wet pussy, but Paul only shushes you in your head and you relax again.

“Mmm~” He hums, flicking his tongue against the seam of your lips and lifting himself to hover over you once more.

He winks before tightening his grip on your thighs and stretching them wide enough for him to slink down and have access to the small hole at their apex.

You jolt when he presses a soft kiss to the top of your mound. You squeak and try to close your thighs around his head but he doesn’t let you, keeping your thighs pinned to the bed and licking a flat stripe up your pussy.

“So sweet, mouse….” Paul grins and repeats the motion a few times. “I could just spread you out over the table whenever I need to eat.”

You moan at the attention, desperately wishing that you could grind against Paul’s mouth but it feels like something more than his grip is holding you back, something about the touch seeming too vivid. You shake the thought away and sink your fingers into his hair, brushing any strays away from his face as he moves to suck on your clit.

He hollows out his cheeks a bit to get better suction on your fat clit. Paul nuzzles his face as deep into you as he can possibly get, the chubby lips of your pussy sandwiching his nose. You wrench your eyes shut as your pleasure builds and builds, but a single thin finger eases into your hole right as you’re about to tumble over the edge. The intrusion isn’t painful so much as it is entirely foreign to you, the second finger goes in much easier.

The combination of eating you out and finger fucking you makes the knot in you stomach blessedly come undone. Paul swallows it all down like there’s no better substance in the grand scheme of the universe.

You hope to have this dream again tomorrow, even at the cost of being able to look Paul Atreides in the eyes.

[yunhoszn]

ateez & the coquette bow trend

୨୧ hongjoong thinks the trend is silly and when u beg for him to let u try it, he says why not? he expected u to tie the bow around his wrist or something, so when u give him cute little pigtails like this, he kinda loses it. but it’s ok! cause he looks cute.

୨୧ seonghwa is all for it when u bring the idea to him. idk if yall have noticed but the stylists have a habit of putting things around his bicep… so naturally… that’s where u tie the ribbon, like this. (it gives him an excuse to flex the time he’s been putting in the gym!!)

୨୧ yunho is another advocate!! that boy keeps up with the popular tiktok trends, so he’s actually the one who suggests it to u. and well… u obviously have to tie it around his fingers like this (maybe a thinner ribbon though)… it’s yunho. he’s known for his big pretty hands!! where else would u put it??

୨୧ yeosang is a little.. confused.. when u bring the idea to him. he’s like wtf is that!3?4!3 and he’s not sure why u want to try it so much, but he loves u dearly, so he indulges u. he sits with an awkward smile when u tie one around his neck like this, allowing u to do ur thing. he’s so cute :,(

୨୧ san is like half on the fence, half off about the idea when u bring it to him. he knows it’ll please u if he gives in, but also… huh???? after u show him a few tiktoks, he’s like fine ok… and then u waste No time tying ur pretty ribbon around his waist/torso like this. san is beefy… the bow doesn’t belong anywhere else yknow?

୨୧ mingi is kinda excited when u ask him if u can do the coquette trend. he’s seen tiktoks of couples doing it and he thinks it’s kinda hot… he anticipates u tying it around his bicep or his waist, so when u do this instead… he regrets agreeing so quickly.

୨୧ wooyoung is all for it. he also thinks ur gonna be cute about it and technically… u are!!! but in ur own special way!!! he’s a little thorn in ur side sometimes ok!! of course u’d take the opportunity to tie him all up like this (i love rachel and jay sm), just cause u feel like it ^_^ but he sits there and lets u bc ur having too much fun and he’s so desperately in love with u.

୨୧ jongho. wheewwwww jongho. anyway! he doesn’t really want to do it at first cause it’s stupid to him. he’s like wtf is this shit !2?4?2 (like yeo) but he’s more stubborn so it takes a lotttttt for him to agree. i.e. u tell him u’ll do whatever he asks for a whole day if he lets u put the damn ribbon on him. so he says yes, and u do it like this.

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[signedmio]

HIHI!! Can I request Vox, Alastor and Velvette with a fem s/o who's a powerful overlord and has an iconic trio in hell with her friends, and reader is like, the main one, the most popular, plus she's not afraid to be mean or rude, so she's basically the leader of a powerful and evil trio and is very busy all of the time

TY <3

𝐯𝐨𝐱, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐨!𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫!𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

a/n; heyyy! ofc i can write this for you!! this is giving me strong heather chandler vibes so i did smth like that?? enjoy!

warnings: gn!reader in vox and alastor’s parts, implied fem!reader in velvette’s(?), profanity

proofread: no i’m abouta go to school i don’t have time 😭

tags: hazbin hotel, vox, fanfic, alastor, x reader, velvette

𝐯𝐨𝐱

you reminded vox of himself in many ways — even if the connections weren’t clear as day to the public eye

the fact that neither of you were afraid to be straight-up rude and that you’re both very busy kinda stuck out to him

speaking of, he’s a bit upset that you’re both so busy because it has a tendency to put limits on how much you two can see eachother

yeah, idk what to say with this one 😭😭

𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫

alastor grew up in a time where manners were crucial — so he never thought he’d be with someone who didn’t have that same mindset

despite that, he was nothing but a gentleman to you 24/7 !

believe it or not, like vox, alastor also has quite a bit of stuff on his plate, but do not fret! - he still sets time aside for you personally <3

𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

finally the one i actually had ideas for going into this 😭😭

honestly, you and velvette just hardcore rock out as the bad bitches around hell, you both think you’re tough shit and you don’t give a fuck if people think you’re not

let’s be real, velvette walks around just thinking to herself, “wow, i love my bad bitch” - like she refers to you as her bad bitch, aloud and internally

yeahhh uhhh, idk how to elaborate on this idea, sooo

i do not permit for my work to be reposted, translated, or stolen. all rights go to signedmio. characters are not mine, unless stated, and belong to their rightful creators.

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Forbidden fruit

Steve Rogers x Fem!reader

A/N Hey guys I'm re-posting all my fics. Also all mistakes are my own and comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated xoxo

18+ MINORS FUCK OFF YOU'RE NOT OLD ENOUGH (I WARNED YOU)

Summary Your dad's best friend, Steve pays you a visit. (idk how to summarise this)

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings fluff, Unprotected sex (use protection because you're not fictional), daddy kink, squirting, spitting, the word slut used like once or twice and one slap.

You weren’t expecting anyone today. Between your dad being at work and the lack of plans on your part you didn’t expect the loud knocks on the door at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. You cautiously tiptoed over to the door and looked through the peephole. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw it was Steve. You opened the door with a smile and tried not to stare at the man in front of you. After all he was your dad’s best friend.

“Hey darlin’ is your dad in?” Steve questioned while looking you up and down.

You were wearing some sweatpants and a t-shirt that belonged to your dad. You were home all day so you didn’t bother to put nicer clothes on.

“N-no” you stuttered trying not to focus on the wetness that is now soaking through your panties.

“He told me he wasn’t at work today” Steve said while walking into the kitchen to help himself to a beer.

“He said something about an emergency. I’m not sure though I wasn’t listening properly” you replied.

“I thought you were a good girl” Steve replied with a smirk.

You could feel your cheeks heating up with the praise.

“I-I was in the shower when he told me”

I wish I was there Steve thought as he looked at you hungrily.

“Actually I was here to see you princess” Steve said while watching your face closely.

“me?” you questioned.

“yes. I wanted to know if you meant to send me the photos of your pretty tits and the video of you playing with your pretty pussy.”

Oh my fucking god y/n you thought to yourself. “o-oh I-I’m really sorry Steve t-they weren’t meant to be sent to you.”

“who were they meant for then? Because they better not have been for a boy who doesn’t know how to treat a girl like you right.” Steve said bitterly. “Have you had sex with him before?” you nodded slowly watching Steve’s face for his reaction. “how many times has he made you cum?”

“well...” you replied looking at the floor.

“You’re joking. He had a pretty thing like you at his fingertips and he didn’t make you cum once. I think we should make another video to show your friend so he knows how to treat a girl like you.”

“I-I don’t think we should do this,” you replied.

“He’ll be home in about 45 minutes. That’s more than enough time to get those sexy legs of yours quivering and you screaming my name like a prayer.”

All you could do was whimper in response as Steve stepped closer to you. He brought his hand up to your face and brushed his thumb over your lips. You opened your mouth, and Steve pressed his thumb onto your tongue. You closed your lips around his thumb and sucked, which elicited a deep moan from Steve. He removed his thumb from your mouth and softly grasped your chin to make you look at him.

“Before we do anything, I want to set some rules,” he said sternly.

“O-okay,” you whimpered.

“Firstly, I need to know if you know what the traffic light system is.”

“I, umm, I know what it is.”

“Good girl. I want you to use it at any time, especially if you don’t like something that I’m doing or if you just want to slow down. I don’t care about anything but your well-being. Do you understand?” he questioned in a serious tone.

“Okay,” you replied while crossing your legs.

“Secondly, I’m going to have my way with you, but if you disobey me, I will have to spank you. And most importantly, you are to call me daddy and only daddy. Am I clear?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” you almost whispered.

“Good girl,” he growled.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against his chest.

“No bra?” he questioned.

You shook your head. You put your left hand on his chest and your right one on his cheek. He leaned down, and you reached up to meet his lips. It started off tame until Steve licked across your lips. You instantly opened your mouth and welcomed his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues fought for dominance, a fight that would always be won by Steve.

He moved his hands to your ass and told you to jump.

You pulled back. “Are you sure?” you questioned.

Steve looked at you like you were crazy. “Did I stutter? I said jump. So you’re gonna jump, and I’m gonna carry you to your bedroom, and then I’m gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Better than any guy your age can.”

You decided that Steve didn’t care and jumped. He caught you and wrapped your legs around his waist. You started to kiss him again as he made his way upstairs with you. Luckily you had left your bedroom door open do all he had to do was kick it so you both could fit through the doorway. He dropped you on your bed and then started to strip his clothes off. However, you were visibly disappointed when he didn’t take his tight boxers off. You could see his bulge and it looked too big to be real.

“see something you like?” he said with a smirk on his face. Then, he looked you in the eyes and said “strip. I want everything off.”

“ok daddy” you replied whilst taking your clothes off with shaky hands.

Once you got your panties off, Steve took them out of your hand and put them on top of his pile of clothes.

“they’re mine now”

All you could do was whimper in response.

“lay back” he ordered.

You did as he said and then he laid down on his front between your legs. He grabbed your thighs and wrapped them around his head.

He looked up at you and said, “I want you to suffocate me with your pussy. I mean it, if I die then I’ll die a happy man. Also, I want both hands in my hair. They move, I stop. Do you understand?”

“y-yes daddy,” you replied a shiver running down your spine.

You buried your hands into Steve’s soft strands of hair and pulled which made him groan.

He leaned forward and you tightened your legs. He smiled to himself before he dived in. He started with long languid licks from your hole to your clit. Making sure to leave nowhere untouched by his tongue. He licked into your pussy while his thumb swiped over your bundle of nerves.

You pulled hard on his hair making him groan once again. He shook his head so he could get deeper and decided to change his tactics.

He rubbed two fingers up and down your wetness, pushed them inside and curled them. The moan you let out made Steve grind his hardness into the mattress. He started to suck on your clit and you pulled as hard as you could on his hair.

“OH FUCK DADDY.” You screamed. “I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum.” You chanted.

Steve carried on what he was doing. Well he had no choice. Your legs were so tight around his head now that he couldn’t move. He couldn’t be in a better position if he tried. It was like being in heaven.

You let out an earth shattering squeal as you came. Steve carried on as your legs quivered and your hands tried to push his head away. The overstimulation feeling like too much. Steve added another finger and curled them hard against your g-spot. He got into a rhythm of harshly thrusting his fingers in and out of you while he sucked as hard as he could on your clit.

Then, a weird pressure started to build. One that you had never felt before. It felt like you needed to pee.

“daddy it feels weird. Daddy I’m gonna cum gonna cum again.” You shouted.

He carried on with his movements and then suddenly he pulled his fingers out of you. He continued you roughly rub two fingers across your clit even as you writhed and your legs shook. He put an arm across your waist as he continued his ministrations.

Then suddenly you came. Your release squirted out of you while Steve continued to rub your swollen and almost painful bundle of nerves.

“DADDY!” You squealed and then you shouted, “YELLOW.” The feeling was pleasurable but it felt too much. You just needed everything to slow down.

Steve removed his hand and put his other one on your cheek as his thumb stroked the skin under your eye.

“Are you ok baby? Do you want to slow down or stop?” he asked in a soft voice.

“I just want to slow down. It just got a little too much. I can go again now. I-it’s just that I needed a break.” You breathlessly replied.

“Ok baby but if its too much just tell me. I won’t be mad.”

“ok daddy.”

Steve leaned down and whispered “good girl” into your ear making goose bumps form all over your body.

“Daddyyyyy.” You whined. “I need you”

“what do you need baby?” he said while smiling softly at you.

“I need you inside me. Please please daddy!”

“Good girl. Such. A. Good. Girl.” Steve punctuated each word with a kiss.

He started to kiss from your lips to your neck where he started to kiss and bite you leaving a trail of marks. You tangled your hands into his hair, pulling on the strands.

Steve groaned as he grinded his erection into your leg. He kissed down to your breasts where he sucked your left nipple into his mouth. He bit down on it which made you groan. He then switched his attention to the other nipple.

Once he felt like your nipples had had enough attention, he started to kiss his way back up to your lips.

He sat back on his legs and started to remove his boxers. As he pulled them down his legs, his large cock sprung up and laid flat against his stomach. The red tip was leaking a steady stream of precum.

You sat up and reached out for Steve’s cock and grasped it. You started to pump his cock up and down occasionally twisting your hand as you reached the sensitive head whilst using his precum as lube. He let out a loud groan.

You got closer so that you could lean down and take his member into your mouth. You sucked harder as you got to the tip. Once you had a steady rhythm, Steve put a hand on either side of you head and started to fuck your mouth.

“If you need me to stop just tap on my thigh twice” He gritted out.

He held your head down so that your nose was buried in the hairs at the base of his cock. Then he pulled back and carried on thrusting into your mouth. As he got close to cumming, he pulled out and picked you up.

Steve laid you down on your back and then kneeled between your open legs. He shuffled closer and grabbed his cock. He started to run the tip up and down your folds.

“Daddy please. Fuck me please daddy please!” you pleaded desperately.

“ok, ok, baby” he said looking at you with lust blown eyes.

He grabbed his member and pushed it inside you. You moaned and you arched your back as he slowly entered you. Steve stilled for a few seconds to let you get used to his size.

“Steve please!” you begged, desperate for Steve to pound you into the mattress.

“what did you call me?” Steve snarled and slapped you around your face.

You moaned and clenched around him making him hiss.

“sorry daddy sorry I just want you to fuck me. PLEASE!” you pleaded.

“you want me to fuck you really hard do you?” Steve said as you nodded your head. He chuckled and then put his hand around your neck squeezing gently. “ok then I’ll fuck you but don’t expect me to stop you slut.”

Steve started to pound into you. His hips slapping against yours while his balls slap against your ass. His thrusts were quick and sharp not allowing you any time to move away.

Steve grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders. He leant down and you were practically folded in half. What he did next surprised you. Steve used his spare hand to hold down your jaw while he spat into your mouth. He removed his hand and you automatically swallowed and opened your mouth again.

“Such a fucking slut wanting my spit. Dirty girl.” Steve said while spitting into your mouth again.

You swallowed. Then, Steve snaked the hand that he used to open your jaw down to your clit and started to rub it quickly. Your legs started to shake and your back arched off the bed.

“Are you gonna cum my dumb slut?” you nodded. “Tell daddy. Tell him you’re a dumb cumslut” Steve started to thrust faster which you didn’t know was possible.

“I-I’m a-a cumslut. D-daddy’s cums-slut. I’m gonna cum daddy. I’m gonna cum.” You sobbed while your legs shook and the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grew.

“that’s it good girl” Steve groaned. “good girl, such a good girl for daddy.”

That’s when the band inside you snapped and you came for the final time. Your last released squired out of you and drenched Steve’s cock and thighs.

“good girl. Such a good cumslut.”steve moaned his thrusts losing their rhythm. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum”

“daddy cum inside me please daddy please. Want your cum inside me. Please!”

That was it for Steve. He was a goner. His hips stilled as his spend pumped inside you.

You both stayed like that for a while until Steve suddenly got up. You whined at the loss of contact but your attention was now on Steve picking up your phone.

“Open it please baby. I want to send a video of my spunk dripping out of you to that little shit who thinks he deserved you”

You whimpered at his possessive tone and took your phone out of his hand to put the password in. Steve then clicked on the camera and took a video of your still pulsing hole which had his spend leaking out of it.

Steve stopped the video and sent it to your friend. Then he laid on top of you with his head on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.

You both stayed like that for a while until your phone rang. Steve rolled over beside you with a groan and you picked up your phone.

“shit, it’s my dad.” You said as you answered the call. “Hey dad what’s up?”

“Nothing sweetheart I’m just calling to say I’m gonna be home 30 minutes late today.”

“o-ok I’ll see you later. Bye dad, love you”

“bye love you too.”

You put the phone down and looked at Steve with a smile on your face. “we have an extra 30 minutes”

“good. Now I can take care of you the way you deserve.” Steve picked you up and took you to the bathroom down the hallway.

He sat you on the toilet so you could pee while he went back into the bedroom to take the sheets off your bed. After you were finished in the bathroom, you called Steve back in. He picked you up again and placed you on the counter.

“where are the towels?” Steve asked.

“in the cupboard under this counter.” You said, smiling softly at Steve.

“ok then darlin’. You get the shower going and I’ll get a change of clothes and towels ready before I join you.” He smiled and then slapped your ass when you walked over to the shower.

You yelped in response but carried on with the task you had been given. Once the shower was to your preferred temperature, you got under the spray and got your hair wet.

Just as you were about to reach for your body wash Steve had entered the shower and came up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your hair. You turned around in his arms and leaned up to kiss him.

Then you reached out for your dad’s shower gel and squirted some of it on a loofah. Then, you thoroughly cleaned Steve’s body and then his hair. Once you had finished, Steve decided to return the favour.

These simple acts felt intimate but you knew you couldn’t have a relationship with Steve. It was like he was forbidden fruit since he was your dad’s best friend. How would your dad react to that?

After Steve had finished cleaning your body and hair, you both got out of the shower. Steve decided had that you didn’t need to walk yet.

He put you down once you reached the bedroom and then you both started to get dressed which gave you an opportunity to look Steve over and appreciate his chiselled body.

“you’re staring baby” Steve said while laughing.

Your cheeks started to heat up again but that was short lived since Steve dragged you back into bed so you could cuddle. Your head was on Steve’s chest while his arm was around you and your leg was thrown over his waist.

Your peaceful moment was torn apart by the sound of a key in the front door. You and Steve jumped out of bed and started to panic

“hey its OK, I’ll quickly go downstairs and tell your dad that you was getting changed. Ok?”

“ok I’ll wait a few minutes before coming down stairs then” you agreed.

“good girl” Steve whispered in your ear before kissing you on the lips and then on your forehead.

He ran downstairs and into the kitchen to pick up his beer and talk to your dad. All this happened while you were still thinking about what you and Steve had just done and how it would change your relationship.

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier @nicoline1998enilocin

[moni-logues]

Across a Crowded Room

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Strangers-to-lovers, idolverse, smut

Word count: 10.7k

Summary: Dissatisfied and uncomfortable at a party where you don’t belong, in a country where you feel like you don’t belong, you see a man looking at you from across the room. Maybe he’s what you’ve been missing.

Content: alcohol consumption, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, I guess slight exhibitionism since it all happens up against a window lmao

A/N: Ok, so I 1000000% thought I had re-posted this here already?? but Lia has informed me that I have not and since I got a nice message about it on the old blog, I figured now's as good a time as any to repost!! The start of this fic is literally the first writing I had done for over a decade. I started writing even before I had a writing blog. Then the rest of it was written... last November? ish? idk. anyway, I read this myself the other day and it's alright! ETA: LOL, you can tell it's old because it's written in present tense LMAO

* * *

You tug self-consciously at the hem of your dress; it’s a little too short for your liking, but Hanjae likes you in K-style clothes and, once you’re there, it’ll be fine. It’s always a little nerve-wracking the thought of going to a party where you hardly know anyone, but it always turns out fine. Fun, even. Positive thinking. You sigh and inhale deeply before leaving your apartment and heading down to the car he’s sent for you.

When you first met, you were both taken with each other. He was intrigued by your foreignness and enchanted by your clumsy negotiations in a foreign culture; you were reassured by his confidence and excited by the access he had to hitherto hidden worlds of luxury and indulgence. He wasn’t rolling with Elon Musk or anything (and you’d have had nothing to do with him if he were), but he lived with an ease and security that you yearned for. Which, you suppose, is why you’re still letting him parade you around at parties like this.

It was fun at first. You liked the attention – who wouldn’t? Instead of feeling freakish and out of place, you felt interesting and cherished for your differences. You felt like they were laughing with you when you told funny, embarrassing stories of when you’d got it wrong, or how you do things back home. It felt like people were fascinated by you and you were warmed by their curiosity. You didn’t mind when they reached out to touch your tattoos or asked personal questions, because they didn’t mean any harm. Hanjae gave you a social life that you hadn’t quite managed to create for yourself in this new place and got you out of your apartment, out of your comfort zone, and you clung to that.

Recently, though, you’ve been feeling different. When you show up to parties with him and see his friends you’ve met before, they’re surprised you’re still around. They joke to your face that they would’ve expected Hanjae to have moved on by now. They ask what his parents think (but you have never been introduced to them). They’re not so charmed by you anymore. These friends barely spare you a second thought once they’ve registered their surprise and the attentions of new friends aren’t as welcome as they once were. You started feeling uncomfortable with the way Hanjae paraded you around a couple of weeks ago and now, you’re frankly sick to your stomach. When people reach out to touch you, you flinch away; you don’t tell funny, embarrassing stories because you feel like you’re being laughed at; you stay quiet, for the most part, because your Korean is still not very good and, when they correct you or laugh at your mistakes, you don’t feel like they’re doing it kindly. Standing, mute, next to Hanjae while he laughs and drinks makes you feel like an object, a trophy, an oddity. If Hanjae were a Victorian-era Englishman travelling to the ends of the Earth to ransack a foreign place and bring home stolen goods, you were the buried necklace of an Aztec noblewoman he would give to the eligible girl in the manor house whose hand he is trying to win. He is showing you off because other people are impressed, but you no longer get the feeling that he is.

You hand over your phone and lip balm to Hanjae when you meet him outside the venue; this became a habit early on, so you wouldn’t have to hold a bag and he was happy to keep them in his pockets. Now, it feels a little bit like handing over your freedom.

“Cheer up!” he says as you lean back in your seat. “This’ll be fun, won’t it?” He smiles at you and tucks your hair behind your ear. He’s not a bad guy. He really isn’t. You’re not entirely sure if he even realises what he’s doing with you, if he knows that he doesn’t really like you but the idea of you, if he knows that there’s no future with you, if he’s realised that this relationship is rapidly approaching its expiry date. He’s been extremely good to you and you owe it to him to try. However much you want it to end, you don’t want it to end badly and you don’t want to hurt him; there’s no need for that.

You walk into the party amongst a sea of black suits. You scan the crowd, looking for other women you can compare your outfit to. A terrible thing to do, you know, but your insecurity needs reassurance that you’re dressed appropriately for this event. Hanjae is already leading you over to his friends, two of whom have brought their girlfriends, who are dressed in outfits similar to yours, so that’s something at least. You greet them brightly and Hanjae hands you a drink before launching into a conversation you can’t quite follow. That’s the other thing about these parties; they’re so loud, even if everyone were speaking English, you’re not sure you’d be able to hear them properly, so you hardly stand a chance in Korean. You’ve improved dramatically and can get by in your day-to-day life, but you don’t feel like you’re good enough yet to have a proper conversation, to really talk to anyone. It’s quite a lonely feeling and another reason you’ve spent so much time with Hanjae: he speaks fluent English; although he uses it less and less often these days and he gets more impatient when you need things repeating. You suppose it must be difficult for him, too, having to use a second language so much.

You gaze around the room, looking at nothing in particular. You sip your drink and wonder what everyone else is thinking about. You barely notice the looks you get anymore – most of them are meaningless anyway and people pass their eyes over you before turning back to their friends – but out of the corner of your eye, you see someone looking at you. You don’t recognise him, but you’ve never been very good with faces and the lighting is weird here. You raise your glass and nod slightly; even if you don’t know him, it’s nice to be polite. He looks a little flustered that you’ve noticed and quickly looks away, and then back again and raises his glass a little before turning and walking away. You smile, what a cutie.

*

Your glass is empty and your feet hurt from standing still for so long, so you tell Hanjae you’re going to get another drink. He asks you to get him a whiskey, so you traipse to the bar and order. You hand the drink to Hanjae without a word and wander off; there must be somewhere to sit in this place.

The main room is cavernous and you’re worried there will be no open doors to anywhere else. There is a small group of tables in one corner, but they are all already occupied. You look around as you walk, and suddenly bump into someone.

“Oh, so-“, you start to say, but you realise it isn’t someone; it is a mirror. The whole back wall is mirrored. For a moment, you are completely disoriented and slightly embarrassed, but as you edge along the mirror, you realise that the wall doesn’t reach the other side and the room continues beyond it. As you cross behind the mirror, the din of music and voices is subdued significantly. There’s another partial wall from the other side as though the room is zig-zagging. You’re wary of going too far, but the increasing quiet is soothing. You turn another corner and there’s a bench opposite a large staircase. You immediately sit down along its length and lift your feet. You wonder what the time is and how much more of it you’ll have to kill before you can go home. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, reminding yourself that Hanjae is a good man and you are very fortunate and suffering from very glamorous problems. A few months ago, you’d have given an arm and a leg to be at a party like this. Be careful what you wish for, you think to yourself.

As you fidget on the bench, you realise you are not alone. There is a man coming down the stairs. You take your feet off the bench and try to look like you’re doing something (what? What could you be doing? There is absolutely nothing to occupy you here!); you settle for just looking awkward. You nod your head and raise a hand as he reaches the bottom.

“Are you ok?” he asks. His hesitance reminds you of someone and you realise with a flash that he is the man who was looking at you earlier.

You clear your throat.

“네. 괜찮아요. 감사합니다,” you answer falteringly, embarrassed at having been caught hiding out. You rise to leave.

“오, 정말요? ……………?”

You don’t understand the second half of what he said and you curse yourself for having answered in Korean; if you’d just spoken English and pretended you didn’t know any Korean at all, this would’ve been much simpler!

“Sorry, I didn’t understand,” you tell him. “갈게요.”

“No, wait,” he cries, with more force than he intended. “You don’t have to leave.” He gestures to the bench. “I was also looking for somewhere quiet.”

He speaks shyly and you assume he doesn’t have much practice at speaking English and don’t have the energy for locking you both into a conversation where neither of you can quite understand the other. On the other hand, it would feel rude to just walk away now. You stand, not leaving but not quite staying, both of you trapped in an awkward moment that seems to last forever.

“You can leave if you want,” he says, finally. “I am going to stay.” He sits on the bottom step and takes a sip from his drink. “It’s ok, we don’t have to talk- but I can speak English a little bit if you want.”

You slowly return to the bench and sit down. You feel like you should say something, but your mind is blank. It’s like you’ve never had a conversation before in your life; what do people say? Does he even want you to say something? Why was he staring at you earlier? In the same way that everyone else always does or was there a specific reason? You feel your hands start to sweat and you inwardly roll your eyes at yourself and tell yourself to get a grip, literally nothing is happening.

He is looking out of the window and you are staring into the corner on the opposite side; you each take glances at one another, praying the other doesn’t notice. You can still hear the music from the party, quiet in the background, and you wonder if Hanjae has noticed your absence yet; you expect not. You glance at the man opposite you and catch his eye. You both chuckle awkwardly.

“I’m ________,” you say.

“Jungkook,” he answers.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“I saw you earlier; I didn’t think we’d met before.”

“No, I’m not really invited to these things,” you explain. “I just tag along with my b-,“ you stop, the word ‘boyfriend’ weighing heavily on your tongue.

“Who’s your boyfriend?”

Dammit.

“Uh, Kim Hanjae?”

“Ah… Don’t know him.”

“He’s…” How on earth did you get to this subject so quickly? Do you really want to talk about Hanjae to this random man? More to the point, does this random man want to hear about your boyfriend and how you actually don’t want him to be your boyfriend anymore? Doubtful. “He’s nice,” you finish, lamely.

“Just don’t like parties?”

Part of you wishes you had just left when you had the chance. Then you realise how ridiculously you’re behaving; hating the party because no one will talk to you and, now, as soon as someone starts, you want to leave. ‘Get a grip, girl,’ you say to yourself.

“I like parties,” you answer, “but it’s-… I’m-… This-…” You pause as you try to work out how to give an honest answer that isn’t simultaneously dumping all your crap onto him. “These are all his friends; I don’t really know anyone here.”

He nods.

“I have a different problem: everyone knows me and wants to talk to me all the time.” He laughs. “I don’t like big parties. They’re… so much… too much.”

You nod. The two of you lapse into silence again, but it’s more comfortable this time. You’ve broken the ice a little. He seems nice and you feel a pang of sympathy for him: to be a big deal at parties like this sounds exhausting, especially if you don’t even like parties to start with. No wonder he’s hiding out with you.

“It’s hard for me to talk to people at these things,” you tell him. “My Korean isn’t very good and Hanjae doesn’t like speaking English when we’re with his friends because some of them don’t speak it.”

“I think your Korean sounds good.”

You laugh; that was a sweet thing to say given that he’s heard you say all of three words.

“It’s ok, but we couldn’t have this conversation in Korean. Sorry.” You smile weakly and feel pathetic; you knew it would be a process, moving to a new country and learning the language as you go, but you weren’t prepared for how embarrassed and ashamed you would feel all the time about your failings.

“Don’t be sorry!” He grins at you. “I can try my English! But, actually, it is not very good either. Sorry.”

You laugh again. Koreans and their modesty; his English sounds just fine from where you’re sitting.

“Did you move here recently?” he asks.

“About four months ago,” you answer. “I was… looking for something new, I guess. I don’t know… I needed new horizons, new experiences.”

“And how do you think about it now you’re here?”

You wonder if he knows what a loaded question that is. You exhale with a huff. Where to begin?

“It’s been harder than I thought it would be,” you tell him. “I feel very… different. Being looked at so much is not something I was used to… I think Hanjae likes it, but it’s awkward for me. I feel like…”

“An object.”

Your eyes meet and your chest is flooded with the warmth of familiarity. He’ll understand, won’t he?

“When we met,” you start, looking away self-consciously, “he was charmed by my foreignness, y’know? And he liked how different I looked and found it cute when I made mistakes in Korean and didn’t know things. It gave him clout, y’know? Dating a foreigner? I was spoilt by it, the attention; I thought it was for me and when he bought me dresses and took me to parties to show me off, I thought it was because I was special, not just because I was foreign. I loved it at the start.

“I think the appeal is wearing off, though,” you continue, stealing a quick glance to gauge his reaction. He’s looking at you patiently, intently, concentrating, probably, on understanding what you’re saying. “He gets annoyed sometimes now when I don’t know things and-“

You tell him everything. Once you start, you find you can’t stop. You don’t know whether to be angry or sad about it, so you vacillate between the two. Jungkook listens, never interrupts; he drinks and nods and keeps looking at you with those huge brown eyes.

“I know it’s over,” you say, resolute. “I just-” you realise it as you say it, “I’m scared that I won’t have anything if I don’t have him.”

He looks at you thoughtfully for a moment.

“But you met him in Korea, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you still have the person who moved all the way here to start a new life; that seems like a lot to me.”

For a split second, you don’t know whether to burst into tears or fling your arms around him and give him a kiss. ‘Is he looking at me,’ you wonder ‘or staring into my soul?’. You feel seen, seen for the first time in months. You decide then and there that you would walk on hot coals for this man; he’s got you whether he wants you or not. His kindness streams out from him like rays of the sun from behind clouds. Such a bright, young thing, hiding in the dark.

“What about you?” You ask. “You’re hiding back here, too.”

“Ah.” He finishes his drink and places the glass next to him on the step. “I prefer quiet places. I like to keep things small and…-”

“Intimate?”

You blush furiously as he looks at you. That isn’t what you meant and you’re not sure how he’s taken it.

“Yeah, intimate. Big crowds are not my thing.”

“Not when they forget that you’re a person, first.”

He nods.

You stand and move to look out of the window, closer to him. He rises, too, and stands next to you. Your arm is a hair’s breadth from him; you daren’t move.

“Do you like the view?” he asks.

“Actually, I don’t really like a cityscape. I prefer country views.”

“What are the views like where you’re from?”

No one has asked you about home like that. They ask for funny differences between here and there or ask you to debunk or confirm stereotypes, but no one has really cared what you actually think. You smile, picturing in your mind’s eye cloudy, wind-swept beaches, rolling hills, pier arcades, church spires and so much green. You tell him everything. You turn your back to Seoul and, leaning against the glass, describe the house you grew up in and where your grandparents used to live; you describe the places you took holidays when you were a kid and the specific smell of the sea that isn’t the same anywhere else in the world. He’s been to your home country before, but he hasn’t been to your hometown; he asks questions and shows interest and you realise how starving you’ve been. Starved of this sort of attention – focused, interested, penetrating. You’ve had a taste and you want more and more.

You ask him about Seoul; did he grow up here? No, he tells you about Busan in the South. He speaks slowly and thoughtfully about his childhood and his dreams and moving here at such a young age, growing up so far from everything he’s ever known. He’s achieved more than he ever thought was even possible, more than he had ever dreamed, he explains; sometimes he still can’t believe it’s real.

While he talks, you study his face. He’s happy now, but you feel for the scared, little boy thrust into the industry machine before he even knew who he was. Now’s not the time, you know that, but you want to gently crack him open like a soft-boiled egg. Such depth in his eyes, so much soul. You resist the urge many times to put your hand on his arm, hold his hand for a second, reach out and physically touch him somehow. You feel connected to him in such a way that you need it to be physical for a moment, to close the circle, to just… touch.

You’re still standing by the window, deep in conversation, when a man appears from behind the wall and beckons to Jungkook. They talk quickly and Jungkook returns.

“I’m going to get a drink.”

Your heart falls.

“Do you want one?”

A wash of relief. You shrug, sure.

“Ok, wait here. I won’t be long.”

He leaves and you turn back to the window, pressing your forehead against the cool glass. You wonder what time it is, where is Hanjae, what’s he doing, is he even still here, has he noticed you’re missing, is Jungkook actually coming back? You take some deep breaths.

With no watch, no phone, and no clock in this dark, little hideaway, you have no way to tell how long Jungkook has been. One minute? Could be ten. You wonder if he’ll make it back to you; after all, he was hiding back here to avoid being grasped in the clutches of all the many, many people out there. Maybe he’s been waylaid. He’s got stuck with a chatterbox who won’t be quiet; he’s got trapped into a business conversation that he can’t leave. Maye he’s seen some friends and is having fun out there.

You sigh, knowing that if he doesn’t come back soon, you’ll have to go out there, too. Hanjae will be missing you, you tell yourself; it’s rude to abandon him completely when he’s the reason you’re even here in the first place. You take a deep, resolute breath and stand, smoothing out your dress. You bump into Jungkook as you round the corner.

“Oh,” he says as he sees you. “Are you going?”

He hands you a drink and you take it, the cold glass sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Uh, well, no, well yes, I was but I didn’t know if you were coming back.” You hope you didn’t sound accusatory.

“I’m sorry, it is hard to avoid people out there,” he replies, continuing around the corner and sitting on the bench. You follow him and he places a hand on the bench, indicating you should join. You feel bad; he shouldn’t have to apologise. You sit next to him on the bench and sip your drink.

“You can go back out there, if you want, you know; you don’t have to stay here with me,” you tell him. His eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“No, thank you!” he laughs. “That was enough. Maybe I will show my face again a bit later.”

“Good.” You spoke without thinking and are just about to regret it when he smiles at you.

“Yeah. Good.”

You place a hand down on the bench and he reaches out a finger to touch your bracelet. When you packed your whole life into one suitcase, a lot of brutal cuts had to be made and there are so many parts of your heart at home, abandoned by you, but not this one. It’s a tiny gold chain, with a tiny gold J attached.

“That’s not the letter of your name,” Jungkook says, still studying your bracelet.

“No… No, it’s from my best friend’s name,” you explain. “She gave this to me a long time ago; I like to wear it when I feel like I need her, to feel like I’ve got a little bit of her with me.” You rub your wrist, self-consciously, and wonder what she’s up to right now.

“Does it help?”

“No, not really.” You laugh, a little sad. “It reminds me that there are people in the world who love me, which is nice, but it also reminds me that those people are thousands of miles away.”

“All of them?” His penetrating eyes beam at you and you feel like no matter what answer you give, it’ll be the wrong one. You shrug.

“I thought maybe you told me a fake name before,” he admits, grinning sheepishly.

“Oh, I don’t think that would’ve ever occurred to me! Why, do you do that?”

He nods. He smiles but it’s sad, the mirth not reaching his eyes.

“Sometimes. But I wouldn’t get away with it so easily if I wore one of those, right?”

You unclasp the bracelet’s fastening and it slips off your wrist and, taking an end in each hand, hold it out to him. He looks uncertainly at you and you nod. He offers his wrist and you fix the chain in place.

“There’s no getting away from who you really are,” you tell him, knowing full well that it doesn’t matter where you go, ’cause there you’ll always be. He grins. “For tonight.”

“For tonight, I can be your best friend?”

You laugh and nod, thinking, ‘god, can he be my best friend forever?’.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, gently moving the bracelet around his wrist; you wonder what he’s thinking and take a sip of your drink.

A few minutes pass in a comfortable silence until Jungkook speaks again.

“I don’t have anything to give you.”

“What?”

“In return.” He indicates the bracelet. “I don’t have anything I can give you.” He takes off a ring and considers it. “I think they will all be too big.” He holds it out and you offer up your hand; he slips it onto your index finger and you lift your hand up, swirling the ring around so that it very nearly flies off the tip.

“Too big,” you confirm with a grin.

He pulls his sleeve up to reveal a watch and you notice the tattoos running underneath.

“I think this will not go with your dress, right?”

You nod absently, trying to make out what you’re looking at. You take the edge of his sleeve and lift it a little higher to get a better look and then become aware of what you’re doing and drop it, apologising instantly.

“That’s ok,” he says and he undoes the cuff, rolling the sleeve up to his elbow. He turns his arm slowly so you can get a good look (or as good a look as you can manage in the dark light). You nod approvingly.

“That’s why I was looking at you earlier,” he says, a little embarrassed. “I was trying to look at your tattoo.”

Well, that explains the intensity of his focus earlier. You turn so that he can see. You feel, for a second, his hand above your skin and your stomach clenches, praying he won’t touch you like everyone else does: ‘just please don’t let him touch me; please, please don’t let him touch me’. But the touch never comes. You sense his hand moving across your back and down your arm and you twist your head to see his finger, an inch above the skin, tracing the lines of your tattoo. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body back towards him.

“They’re very beautiful.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he answers and you’re struck again by the feeling of being seen and not merely looked at. Neither of you looks away this time. You hold the moment between yourselves, pausing time just for a second. You break the connection and look down, tracing a finger over your bracelet on his wrist. You know it’s only a coincidence that they share the same initial – it’s not exactly uncommon – but something about it feels right.

“Do you want it back?” he asks.

No, you don’t. Not yet. You feel like he’s wearing a part of you while he’s wearing it; he has accepted a part of you as a part of himself. You feel warm in the glow of that tiny, tremulous thread between you. You think, and the thought shocks you, that you would be alright he kept it forever. It’s immensely precious to you, so much so that you brought it with you thousands of miles away into your new life, but, somehow, Jungkook’s wearing it brings more to you, more comfort, more confidence, more certainty in the knowledge that there are people in the world that love you. Love is not diminished when given away, it is doubled. You suddenly wish that you did have something of his you could wear, if only for tonight.

The silence lapses and you talk, nursing your drinks, knowing that one of you will have to leave if either of you needs another. You forget the passing of time and everything outside of this little bubble. It’s the most fun you’ve had at a party for ages.

The man who appeared earlier returns and, once again, beckons to Jungkook. Jungkook stands and goes over to him and they, once again, talk quietly. Jungkook returns and the man remains.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Jungkook asks and you feel shattered all of a sudden. You had forgotten all about Hanjae, truth be told, and you are overwhelmed with guilt and shame that you’ve spent the whole night away from him, talking to another man. He isn’t my boyfriend, that’s what you wanted to say: he’s definitely not my boyfriend, or even if he is, I don’t want him to be and he won’t be for much longer! Why is Jungkook asking? Whatever bubble you were in has been popped from the inside. A part of you feels heartbroken and a part of you feels betrayed. It was just you and Jungkook; there’s no need to bring anyone else into this.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know,” you stutter in response. “Probably… somewhere…”. You have no idea where he will be; you assume that he is still here (you hope he is still here because he still has your phone), but who can say for sure?

“Do you want to leave with me?” Jungkook asks and you are stunned into momentary silence.

“What?”

“Do you want to leave with me?” he repeats. “We don’t have to go anywhere; I can take you home if you want, but would you like to leave?”

You feel like that is too many mixed messages to cope with right now so you nod dumbly and stand.

“Hanjae,” you say abruptly as your brain sputters back into gear. “He has my phone and my things.”

“Ok, shall I meet you outside? I’ll wait.”

“I’ll be quick.”

Breathless, you walk as quickly as you can back into the cavernous room, the noise building to a roar, the throng of people overwhelming. You stand on tiptoes and crane your neck, looking for anyone you recognise, cursing the organisers for the dim lighting and all men for their interminably boring black suits which make none of them stand out. You notice movement in your peripheral vision and turn to see a waving arm, beckoning you. It’s not Hanjae; it’s one of his friends.

“Where have you been?” they exclaim as you approach. “Han was looking everywhere for you; thought you must’ve disappeared! Anyway, he had to leave earlier – some work emergency – so he told me to give you these if I saw you.” He hands over your phone, lip balm, and a lipstick you’re sure isn’t yours. “He told you you can order a car if you like, but he won’t be back so you’ll have to get home on your own.”

You see that his friends clearly have no idea of entertaining you or keeping you company for the rest of the evening, which is just as well, given you were about to leave with someone else.

As you make your way outside, you look at the lipstick you were given. You try to think what might constitute a ‘work emergency’ on a Friday night; it’s not like the guy’s a doctor or fire fighter! You try not to let suspicion creep in, because Hanjae has never given you any reason to doubt his fidelity before, but then, you’ve also never considered it, because you’ve never really considered the two of you to be in an actual relationship. Maybe he hadn’t either. And if that’s the case, then there’s no need to be hurt or angered by it. But there is a niggle. There’s something crawling, digging up, trying to plant its seed in your heart. You decide if it’s going to happen at all, it will have to be tonight. As you approach the doorway, you stand to one side and dial Hanjae’s number.

“여보세요?” he answers just as you were about to give up.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh. Where are you?”

“I’m still at the party.”

“Oh. Where did you go? I tried to look for you earlier; I’m not there anymore. I’ve had to come to the office.”

“Yeah, I know; I found Seongyoung and he gave me my phone.”

“Right yeah, yeah.” He sounds distracted.

“So, are you in the office now?” you ask.

“Yeah, but I can’t see you; there’s been a huge mistake and it’s going to take a long time to fix.”

“Please; it’ll be quick. I promise.”

He sighs heavily but agrees. You hang up the phone with a small weight sitting in your stomach.

You turn back to the entrance and walk out, scanning for Jungkook. There are a few dark cars sitting in front of you but you have no idea if any one of them belongs to him. You hesitate, not sure where to turn, standing awkwardly in front of drivers and security officers. A door on one of the cars opens and a hand waves; you approach and Jungkook beams up at you from inside.

“Quick!” He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you in. He speaks quickly to the driver in Korean and turns back to you. “Are you alright?”

“Um, actually, can we go somewhere?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I… have to do something. It won’t take long, please.”

“Of course, that’s ok. Where do you want to go?”

You give him the address of Hanjae’s office building and he relays it to the driver. You sit, slightly on edge, compulsively flicking the edge of your phone case off and on, off and on. The building isn’t far and you sit in silence while Jungkook hums along to the radio. You are barely even aware of what song is playing. The driver slows and you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Just give me like, five minutes. I’ll be quick,” you say as you open the car door.

“It’s ok; you can take as long as you like. I will wait.”

You wonder what Jungkook thinks you are doing, where he thinks you are. You wonder if he knows. Part of you assumes he does, since he seems to intuitively understand so much about you. You enter the building and approach the reception desk. The woman behind it barely looks up as she opens the barrier to let you in. You’re not sure if she recognises you from times you’ve been here before or just does not care about her job. If you had to man a reception desk in an almost entirely empty building on a Friday night, you probably wouldn’t care much either. As you call a thank you to her and walk past, the lipstick suddenly flashes into your mind. Could it be hers? You suppose it could be. It could be anyone’s. It might not have anything to do with Hanjae at all. Maybe Seongyoung handed you his girlfriend’s lipstick by mistake. Maybe not. It won’t matter soon.

You reach Hanjae’s floor and can see him in his glass-walled office: jacket and tie off, sleeves rolled up, standing and on the phone. You walk with purpose to his door and wave. He gestures for you to come in, so you stand inside the door and wait for his conversation to end.

“What’s up?” he asks, putting his phone on his desk.

“I think we need to have a conversation,” you begin, your resolve holding firm for now.

“Right now? I really don’t have time-“

“I said I’d be quick and I meant it.” If you aren’t quick, you’re not sure you’ll be able to go through with it.

“Ok then, shoot.”

You hadn’t actually planned what you were going to say. None of the words sounded right; you wanted to be clear and direct but kind at the same time; is it even possible to tell someone kindly that you don’t want them to be in your life anymore? You clench and unclench your fist and decide to rip the plaster straight off.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I don’t think we should be together. I think we should end things. This is over.” The words tumble out without your being able to stop them. Hanjae’s eyebrows raise and he looks surprised.

“Oh.”

He looks a little dumb-founded but you had expected him to say more and aren’t sure what to do now. You open and close your mouth like a goldfish, waiting for something else to happen. You haven’t actually broken up with anyone before so you’re not sure how this usually goes.

“Can I ask why?”

“We’re not a good fit.” You hope that this will suffice but you know it won’t satisfy him.

“What does that mean? Don’t we have fun together? Don’t we like each other?” Ay, there’s the rub.

“Actually, I don’t really think you do, no.” You try to explain to him all the things you’ve been feeling recently; you try not to blame him for any of it because you don’t want this to turn into an argument; you tread as carefully as you can but you’re so desperate for this to be over now it’s started that you can’t stop your mouth running on and on.

“You’ve given me so much and I’m so grateful to you for that and I really value all the time we have spent together and I do think you’re a nice person and I don’t want to hurt you but… well, this is how I feel.” You feel a little breathless as you come to a stop. Hanjae doesn’t say anything for a while and you can’t read his face. You don’t know what he’s thinking and the longer the silence lasts, the sicker and sicker you feel.

“I’m sorry that you feel that my attention has been so unwelcome,” he finally answers, speaking slowly and coldly. “I don’t really know what else I could have done to show you that I value you: I buy you things, take you places, I introduced you to all of my friends, I show you off; is that not loving? You say you don’t even think I like you, but if that’s true, why would I bother to see you? Why would I waste my time with you if I didn’t? I hadn’t, until now, considered our time together a waste, but it seems as though my efforts have been just that. You’ve been feeling this way for weeks, have you? Well, why are you here, then? Why did you come tonight at all if all of my friends ignore you and all of my attention is so unwanted? If the time we spend together makes you feel so awful, why have you waited this long to say something? You disappeared very early this evening; I tried looking for you everywhere. You said you were getting a drink and then I didn’t see you again. Perhaps it’s not that my attention is unwanted but that you’ve found someone else whose attention you prefer? Were you just putting up with me for long enough to find a higher roller, someone richer, or more famous perhaps? Am I a step on your ladder to the top? You have never, until tonight, given me a reason not to trust you, but you have to admit that this is rather out of the blue and your behaviour at the party was… not very polite. You abandoned me-“

You scoff at that, unable to stop yourself. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. Hanjae raises his eyebrows and waits for you to explain yourself. You’ve no idea how. You say nothing. You’re the first to break eye contact and you look at the ground, then the window, the desk, anywhere but Hanjae’s face.

“Fine,” he says. “Have it your way. What a horrible boyfriend I was to you, to treat you to presents and dinners and parties, to be so impressed by you that I want to show you off to everyone I know, to speak English with you and help you with Korean, to help you get settled in, to give you a social life, to show you what Seoul has to offer, what I have to offer, to never treat you like-“

“A person. You didn’t treat me like a person, Hanjae. I’m not a prize to show off; I’m a person first, not an object.” Your heart is hammering in your chest and you can feel tears pricking in your eyes. How can you get him to understand?

“Oh, I objectify you?” It is his turn to scoff. “And yet I am the one who has been used.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

“No, I- it’s- we- I-“

“Whatever, you can leave now.” He turns his back on you and picks up his phone again. He turns around with the phone to his ear and nods at the door, shooing you away. You turn around and leave the office on trembling legs. As soon as you step into the lift to go back down, the tears come. You’re not even sure why you’re crying; you wanted this after all. It was just horrible. You feel sticky with sweat all over, and shaky with the stress of it. You know that Hanjae isn’t right, saying those things about you, and he was lashing out defensively, but it hurt all the same. Or maybe he is a little bit right. You said yourself that he’s given you so much, access to things and people and places you wouldn’t have had otherwise; you said yourself that you enjoyed that. Maybe you are in the wrong, at least a little bit. You both are, you suppose. You exit the lift and walk briskly out of the office, not turning to look at the receptionist on your way out in case she sees you crying. You step out of the door and hide behind a pillar, catching your breath, drying your tears and trying to put on a happy face. Leaning against the cold stone of the wall, you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“____?”

Shit. Jungkook is right there in front of you, looking concerned.

“Are you ok? What happened?”

You shake your head and hold up your hands.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You stand up straight and give yourself a body shake. “Honestly, it’s fine.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You can’t think of much worse than going home to your poky apartment to spend the rest of your night miserable and alone.

“No… Can we, can we get a drink? Do you want to get a drink?”

Jungkook grimaces slightly. “Ah, that’s kind of difficult for me. I can’t really just go to a bar on a Friday night, y’know?”

Your heart sinks; of course he doesn’t want to go to a bar with you.

“We could have a drink at my house, if you want?” he offers.

Your heart rises. God, yes, please.

You drive back to Jungkook’s apartment in silence. The presence of the driver makes you feel somehow inhibited, self-conscious. You feel conspicuous, even though you’re sure the driver couldn’t care less about who you are or what you’re doing there. He’s just doing his job. You, nevertheless, don’t want to say anything yet, not until you’re alone with Jungkook. He’s scrolling on his phone, and you take the opportunity to study him more closely. His face changes with the changing light: suddenly brightly lit as you stop at traffic lights under a lamppost, then hidden in shadows. He has a kind face, open and bright, deep, soft eyes… You wanted to reach out a finger to trace his profile, the line of his lips, study him as if you were about to embark upon a masterpiece of him. Not that you would be able to capture his spirit if you tried. There’s a light in his eyes that seems to lie so deeply within them but shine so close to the surface.

You can’t work out what you’re feeling – too much, honestly. You need a minute to step back, step out of yourself – out of your life – to sort through everything that had happened. You feel a little as though you have accidentally stepped on a travelator and things are moving faster than you can keep up with. You wonder if you’ll regret any of this in the morning, if sleep will clear your mind and show your actions up as mistakes. You hope not. You think not. You catch the glint of your bracelet, still around Jungkook’s wrist and you nod to yourself. No, this – if this alone – is not a mistake.

When you arrive at Jungkook’s building, he shows you in and your mouth gapes. This was much bigger than Hanjae’s place. Wow. Just how famous was this guy? You are reminded forcefully of how little you actually know about him, whatever your feelings might be saying.

“What would you like to drink?” he asks, crouching in front of a cabinet. He opens the door to reveal all manner of spirits and liquors.

“Oh, anything,” you answer, without thinking. He laughs and you’re embarrassed by your answer but making another decision at this point feels impossible. You feel like a swan, calm on top, but flailing wildly underneath. You begin to think that maybe you should have let Jungkook take you home, so you could’ve gone to bed, or stared out of the window blankly until the sun rose. He’s too stimulating. Questions constantly rise to the surface of your mind like bubbles in boiling water: what’s his family like? What’s his favourite film? What’s his favourite food? Is he single? What’s he thinking? What does he want out of life? He’s already achieved his career dream so what’s his next dream?

He hands you a glass and you take a sip without even looking. It’s strong, good. You follow Jungkook to the sofa and flop onto it, thankful to be sitting comfortably. He asks if the drink is ok and you just nod and take another sip. You’re torn with conflicting desires: to stare at him endlessly, to fall into his chest and listen to his heartbeat, to tell him everything, to listen to him tell you everything, to kiss him, to never kiss him, to be his best friend, to fall in love with him, to fall in love with him and love him from afar from the rest of your life. It’s exquisite, the confusion, the keenness of your muddled feelings. You wonder briefly if you are just drunk but shake the thought from your head: you haven’t had that much to drink.

You drink in silence for a while and when you’ve finished, you stand. Placing your glass on the coffee table, you wander over to the bookcase, full of not books but DVDs and figurines. You scan the titles, your eyes not really seeing. They linger on a small figurine of a tiger at the edge of a shelf. You pick it up.

“Year of the tiger?” you ask, brandishing the figure at him.

“It is.” He stands and comes closer to you, taking the tiger in his hand.

“This is me,” you tell him. 24 years old, you were born two tigers ago. You take the figure back and wiggle it in his face. He laughs.

“I’m an ox,” he says, kneeling down. He opens the door of a little cabinet and reveals figurines for each of the zodiac animals. You laugh picking them up and inspecting them. He takes the ox from the cupboard and the tiger from your hand and puts them both back on the bookshelf. Feeling silly, you move the tiger and make a sound that’s neither quite a roar nor a meow as though the tiger is talking to the ox. Jungkook laughs and responds in kind, lowing deeply as he turns the ox towards the tiger. This is the sort of nonsense you need to lift you from the deep water of your confused feelings.

You move to the window as Jungkook refills your glass. It’s probably a good view that he probably paid a lot of money for but you can’t be enamoured with so many lights and so much modern architecture. You can just barely make out the dark shape of the mountains beyond and you smile; that’s more like it. Jungkook joins you at the window. You talk quietly; you don’t want to tell him that you broke up with Hanjae, because it implies something that you don’t really want to imply, but it comes out in the course of conversation and you actually feel relieved. You don’t know what Jungkook feels about it, if anything, but he seems pleased for you. You feel like everything is so fragile, delicate, precarious. You stay talking at the window for what feels like hours (maybe it is) because you feel that to move will be to ruin the moment somehow, force a shift in the atmosphere that you don’t want.

Your eyes settle on the gold chain at his wrist and your fingers reach out for it, toying with it. Jungkook’s hand moves, into yours, his fingers dancing on your palm. You flick your eyes back to his and he’s smiling at you, shy and sweet. You let him take your hand and suddenly it’s a handshake and you’re snorting, laughing, leaning towards each other as your shoulders shake. You lean your head on his shoulder as your breath comes back and Jungkook moves his hand to waist, pulls you closer to him.

He’s still smiling when you lift your head to look at him and you’re staring back at him, wide-eyed and unsure. He pulls you closer still, his arm snaking around your waist and he kisses you without hesitation. His lips are soft but he isn’t; he’s sure and confident and he brings his thumb to your chin to gently press down, gently open your mouth and let him inside. You’re responding before you’ve had the opportunity to think. Your hands grab at the collar of his shirt and you move against him, a leg between his legs, his bottom lip between your teeth. You’re dizzied and light-headed, grateful to the cool glass at your back and Jungkook’s arms secure around you.

When he pulls back, with apparent effort, he rests his forehead on yours, nudges your nose with his and looks at you from under his thick, dark lashes.

“Honestly, I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he says, his voice hushed in the silence of the apartment, and then he barely brushes his lips against yours again, as if he just can’t help himself.

If you were confused earlier, you aren’t anymore. The world around you has faded to a fuzzy, black blur, eclipsed by the soft bloomings of want in your chest.

“I’ve wanted you to do that all night,” you whisper back, aware only as you’re saying it that it’s true. You have wanted him to do that. You want him to do it again and then a whole lot more.

He takes your face in his hands and kisses you, lightly, gently.

“I don’t usually do this,” he says, eyes alighting on yours for only a second before he’s looking at your lips again. “It’s not… This isn’t like me but…”

“I know,” you reply. “Me, too.”

“I feel…”

“Something.”

“Yeah.”

Your heart skips a beat when he looks at you and the world holds its breath; you almost feel time slow down, the seconds that it takes for his hands to fall from your face, glide down your body, and encircle you again stretch into minutes. The distance between your lips – not even inches – stretches far into the horizon. You almost feel each of the chambers of your heart squeeze, a rush of warmth heating your cheeks, your chest, your core.

And then his lips are on you and you’re like a Catherine wheel, spinning and sparking and wild. Time snaps back like an elastic band and you’re frantic now, all hands and lips and tongue.

You slip your fingers into his shirt, flicking open the buttons, running your hands over his body, soft and supple and flushed. His hands push your dress higher and higher, over the slope of your hips and he lifts you, pushing you against the glass and pushing his body into yours. You can feel the arousal pooled at your core and you can feel him straining against his trousers. You’re wet like you’ve been waiting all night for it, like you’ve been anticipating this very moment since you first laid eyes on him. You push his shirt to the floor, watching it float down like a white flag of surrender: surrendering yourself to him, he to you, to this, whatever this is or could be.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.”

Soft whispers tumble from you as Jungkook’s fingers slide past your underwear and press into your wet heat. Your cunt squeezes against them and your hips cant towards him as he presses his thumb against your clit. Your whimpering, whining, mewling barely drowns out the squelch of his fingers working inside you, arousal dripping down his hand. You’re climbing steadily to your peak, moaning against his mouth as he rolls his tongue with yours. You pull on his hair, his head tipping back, his throat exposed. He looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a slack jaw. Then he grins, thrumming faster, pressing harder and you’re squirming. You let go of his hair to clutch around his shoulders, holding on hard as your own head tips back, thudding against the glass.

Jungkook brings his face close to yours and nudges your nose with his, gently guiding your attention back to him. He holds your gaze as your legs quiver and shake, as your breath hitches and you close your eyes, so, so close now.

“Look at me.” His voice is low, soft, but demanding. “I want to see you… I want you to look at me when you come.”

And you do. Your eyes don’t leave his as you fall apart in his arms, pleasure coursing through you like a lightning strike. You’ve barely finished before he’s crashing his lips into you, urgent and needy and then suddenly neither of those things. He slows. He removes his fingers from your soaking wet slip and he holds you close to him, just barely grinding his hips into you. His kiss is deep, languorous, like he’s really tasting you now. The quiet moan he makes as his tongue rolls with yours makes your heart skip a beat and you’re weak. So weak that, when he drops you, lightly, your feet returning to the floor, you almost stumble, almost fall. But he’s got you.

He pushes your dress back down, smoothing it out so he can unzip it. He finally breaks your kiss as he pulls it from your shoulders, letting it slip down your arms. You’re braless and goosebumps sprinkle all over your skin, your nipples shivering to attention. You run your hands through Jungkook’s hair as he dips his head, lowers himself to kiss your neck, your chest, to run his tongue up the underside of your breast and suck your tight little bud into his mouth. The glass at your back is cold but he is so warm in front of you.

He drops to his knees, hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls them to the floor. You step out and he flings them away.

“I want to make you come again.”

He looks up at you and his eyes are wide, imploring, asking, seeking, searching and it’s all you can do to just nod. You’ve had one-night stands and hook-ups and situationships and even boyfriends who haven’t said that to you, who haven’t cared enough to try for one, let alone more.

He’s still looking at you when he puts his mouth on you and runs his tongue through your folds. You let your head fall back again, eyes to the ceiling. Jungkook grunts, the vibration against you a little shock. You look back down at him and he nods, swirling his tongue around your clit, and you understand: he wants you to look at him, he wants to see you and wants you to see him seeing you, as you have all evening. Because he does. See you. He sees you like no one else has. You can already feel it bubbling up within you. You can sense his soul reaching out to yours as yours reaches back to him. You think to yourself that you would probably have fallen in love with him even if he weren’t so good at—

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook. Fuck. Yes, like that.”

He’s fucking you with his fingers again with his mouth sealed around your clit, the soft plane of his tongue pressing against it, sucking and then lapping. You grab onto his hair, hard, grounding you, something, anything to tether you to this world as you feel yourself floating away.

He groans and you understand his instruction, having to drag your eyes back to his. His brows are furrowed, eyes shining bright. Looking into his eyes at this moment is like falling into an abyss. Tumbling and twisting, your body writhes with pleasure, shuddering against the window as you come again, a cry strangled in your throat, legs shaking and then you’re literally falling, sliding down the glass. Jungkook follows you down, his fingers still pressing against you as he kisses up your stomach, your chest, and then he’s holding you. You’re in his arms and he’s kissing you, your own arousal all over his lips and his tongue.

“You ok?” he asks, his voice thick and low.

You couldn’t speak. Could only take his face between your palms and kiss him again. He lifts you up into his lap, so you’re straddling him, knees either side of his hips, and you can feel him, pressing against his trousers, trapped and tensed. You sit down a little further and roll your hips over him; he groans into your mouth and his hands on your glutes squeeze tight.

“Jungkook,” you whisper and he whispers your name back. “Please.”

He lifts you from his lap and kneels up, hands working at his belt and his zip. He stands to shuck them down his legs and kicks them off. You look up at him and ask,

“Do you have…?”

He nods, crossing the room to his wallet on the sideboard by the door. You press your hands against the cool glass of the window, but rather than cooling you, it warms, too. There is heat all over you, burning around you.

Jungkook returns and falls to his knees, condom in hand. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and mumbles, rolling his eyes at himself as he stands once more to push them all the way down and off. You giggle, reaching out for him, rising on your knees as he slides the rubber over his length. He pulls you to your feet and cages you in against the window, lips capturing yours.

He bites down on your lower lip and you can feel him at your entrance. He’s rubbing his length along your slick slit and you’re whimpering, walls fluttering, heart racing. He breaks the kiss to look you in the eye as he pushes into you. A soft gasp leaves you and your hands circle tight around his biceps. You can feel him slow, his eyes watching you carefully now.

“No, don’t stop, don’t stop. It feels good. Please.”

He continues, still slowly, and, when he’s all the way in, he kisses you again, pressing his body against yours.

“Jungkook,” you breathe, but whatever you were about to say disappears into a moan as he drags his cock out and then pushes back in. He moans back and brings a hand to your breast, his thumb rubbing light circles against your pert nipple. You’re already not sure how you’re still standing and then he lowers his lips to your neck and sucks at just exactly the right spot. Your legs tremble and your cunt quivers and you feel his hot breath against your skin as he chuckles.

“You like that, huh?”

“Yes.”

He says no more and his lips return to the sweet spot on your neck. You cling to him, gripping tightly, every pass of the head of his dick against your g-spot a test of your strength, fading rapidly as you start to drown in him. He thrusts deep and slow with little grunts of effort, like he’s holding back.

“Jungkook, I—”

“Yes?”

He’s looking at you again and, up close like this, he takes your breath away.

“I want more. More. I-… I can’t stand, but I wan—oh.”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s grabbing you, his hands at the backs of your thighs lifting you, taking all your weight onto him. You wrap your legs around him and he moves faster now, harder, looking down at where he disappears into you. He’s more vocal, louder, as he fucks you into the window and the sound of him, his pleasure, his pleasure in you, stirs you. You’re fucked out and weak but your desire renews your force. You squeeze your walls against him and he curses.

“Shit.”

You do it again and a tiny chuckle bubbles up in his throat.

“Baby, you are dangerous. You’re—fuck, hngh—you’re going to make me come.”

He’s panting and breathy and his hair sticks to his forehead. You wrap you arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, his jaw, bite at his earlobe.

“Isn’t that the point?” you whisper.

A shudder runs through him and he growls, his grip on you tighter, even painfully tight. You pull back to look at him and his eyes are black, his jaw set, his brow furrowed. But he’s still looking at you; his eyes aren’t glazed, aren’t elsewhere, aren’t looking through you. He’s seeing you and you feel naked but not afraid, not exposed. You hold his face and kiss him and he grunts, groans; it’s open-mouthed and sloppy, your breath mingling as your tongues slide past and over each other.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours and his stare is so intense, from that alone you would know he was close. He’s cursing lightly, repeatedly, fucking you hard, and then he’s coming, too, with a shudder and an animal groan, guttural and low.

He lowers you both down to the floor and lays you down, kissing you lightly, almost politely, as he brushes your hair from your face. He turns away and stands, disposing of the used condom and grabbing the blanket from the sofa. You just watch him return to you, settling next to you on the floor, covering both your bodies.

You look at the window where your heat and sweat have condensed in an already fading cloud. You laugh and point it out; he laughs, too.

“It’s almost gone already,” he says, watching it shrink, disappear, self-effacing.

You hum. This is usually when you’d feel awkward, make a show of being polite, get up and go but you don’t want to leave; you want to stay right where you are and watch the sun rise with him. You want to yawn and stretch yourself like a cat before curling against him and sleeping through the morning. You want to kiss him both goodnight and good morning. You look at him looking at the window and imagine an entire life with him, spanning years and decades in a second. Your heart beats heavy in your chest and you wonder if he can feel it, if he feels it, too.

When he finally looks back at you, you know. He kisses you like you’re precious, gently traces the shapes of your face with featherlight fingers. You shiver and he pulls you closer into his warm body, pulls the blanket tighter around you.

“Y’know,” he says, pausing to kiss you again. “I’m really glad I went to that party.”

[vickyzangels]

% “eres ese algo que mi mente ha estado imaginando”

# synopsis ; i’m literally just writing down a thought cause i wanna go to sleep

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader

# word count ; 437

# tags ; nsfw (mdni), unprotected p in v, pre-established relationship (i literally label him your boyfriend so idk if i even need this tag), half awake writing if it’s bad i didn’t do it

a/n ; meine schatz - my treasure, liebchen - sweetheart

you very very briefly mentioned to your boyfriend over text that you wanted to see what’d it be like to get fucked face down, ass up.

t: isn’t that just doggy ??

idk its supposed to have a diff angle to it i think

the conversation moved on quickly, and that was seemingly the end of it. and then tonight you both came back from a trashy party in some celebrity’s mansion, so what better way to end the night than to try out that position you brought up?

“fuckk-k.. please..! s’ deep… godf-!” you muffled from your hotel room’s sheets. sure, tom said a lot of things during interviews, but he very rarely lied, and he very much didn't when he said he was 24 cm. shit, you swore you could feel him in your stomach and yet you could feel his tip hitting your spongy g-spot with every push to the hilt of his cock.

he was moving so slowly but he knew that this angle was doing you so much justice, of course he knew, even between his groans you could hear his infamous smirk. you don’t know how much more you can take, the throbbing of pleasure was swallowing you whole and god- if your pussy subconsciously clenched around him one more time and pulled him somehow deeper into you, your eyes would look at the back of your head with how hard you’ve been rolling them.

tom wasn’t helping your case, he very much was not helping your case with how he was running calloused fingers over the arch of your back, ensuring that your head was far into the pillows. who knows how many times you came on his dick, trying to wrench away from him through every orgasm and yet simultaneously pushing yourself back onto it.

“one more, meine schatz, just one more i promise.”

he sounds so supportive and willing and fuck, you believe him, even if he said that the last 2 times. this time he might actually mean it, though, when he pushes himself up and braces a soft palm that you've come to love on the back of your head, gently securing your head down before he pulls almost entirely out of you and in suddenly quick thrusts, completely bottoms out in you, over and over and over again.

this time he’s not brushing your spot anymore, he’s aiming and hitting directly at it. any form of verbal communication coming out of you completely melts into loud mews and gasps, barely shaping together a choppy, “can-t… take it..!”

“yes, you can, just take it a little longer, liebchen.”

a/n ; birthday coming up soon yay

a/n 2 ; WAS I JUST A FOOLL ⁉️ YOU’LL NEVER GET AWAY FROM THE SOUNNDD OF THE WOMAN WHO LOVED YOU‼️

© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.

taglist ; @cup1d-lix @imabitchh @arquiiva @verelace @iovemoonyy @everseve

[ringsofsaturnnnn]

— [🪐] ·˚ ༘ ✎ mine.

MDNI | a.arlert x fem!reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: possessive armin who can’t stand that his entire friend group stares at his girlfriend constantly, even when he’s right there. he hates their wandering eyes and lustful stares. you’re his, not theirs, and tonight, he’s going to make sure he proves that to them.

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴) :: voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, use of petnames, overstim, creampie, let me know if i missed anything <3

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 :: i wasn’t thinking straight when i wrote this. tbh, this is a big word vomit. not proofread for my own sanity.

© 2023 ringsofsaturn | please don't copy or repost my works! i have not given permission to anyone to repost my works. reblogs/comments/likes are okay!

𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥

tag list :: @callm3senpaii (i remember you posted about me tagging you in stuff. idk if it still stands or not just lmk if it doesn’t 😭😭)

“a-armin! slow down! p-please!” your soft cries fall on deaf ears as armin forces you down on his cock yet again. tears were spilling down your pretty cheeks as your fingers desperately attempted to clutch something. anything.

“go on. tell them how good daddy’s cock feels.” he whispered harshly in your ear as his fingers toyed with your overstimulated clit. cum was dripping out of your abused hole, which was on display for eren, reiner, connie, and jean to see.

“g-go-goooo— ah!” you could hardly get a single word out as armin’s tip hit that one spot inside of you that had you squeezing your eyes shut. he laughed, moving his fingers even quicker. “poor baby, too fucking stupid to even speak?” he mocked meanly.

eren was jerking off, quiet grunts escaping his half-parted lips. “look at eren, angel.” armin smirked evilly. when you didn’t move your head, he used his free hand to force your head in eren’s direction. “open your fucking eyes and watch eren fuck his fist to the thought of you,” he growled in your ear. “watch as he pathetically cums in his hand, wishing it was your tight cunt.”

armin’s roughness was turning you on even more as you feebly opened your eyes. your eyes immediately locked onto the taller brunette. the second you made eye contact with him with those glazed over, fucked out eyes, he came with a soft pant of your name and a small “fuck.”

your boyfriend was grinning sadistically. “aw, good girl angel. you made our pathetic friend cum just by being a good little slut.” when armin’s hips snapped into yours you squealed loudly. “c-cumming! cumming, cumming, cumming..” you wailed pathetically.

“that’s a good girl. there you go. just let yourself feel good.” he whispered reassuringly in your ear as he fucked you through your high. your legs were trembling as more tears spilled down your cheeks. “i think..” he panted. “i think i’m gonna cum soon, pretty..”

this would be his what.. third orgasm of the night? armin was insistent on pumping load after load into you, especially since he had something to prove. he had to prove to his stupid friends that you were his. his toy. his plaything. his little breed slut. you were his and they couldn’t have you.

“w-wan’ it so bad. g-gimme..” you whimpered pathetically. your pussy was sore and you weren’t sure you could take what you were begging for, but still, you pleaded for it nonetheless. like a good girl would.

“what’s the magic word, angel?” his voice was sweet, yet held a small hint of mockery. “please!” and with that, armin was thrusting into you one last time before his load was spilling into you. inhaling sharply, your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your fingernails sank into the sides of his thighs.

“that’s it. use daddy to steady yourself. fuck, taking my cum so well. you’re a good fucking girl for me. the best fucking girl for me..”

his once mean tone was now sweet and caring as he pressed a kiss to your sweaty temple. your eyes were shut and your chest was heaving heavily. “now, tell everyone who you belong to..”

“y-you. i-i belong to armin!”

“yeah, that’s right angel. you belong to me.”

[rafetopia]

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!exgf!reader, topper thornton x fem!gf!reader (only mentioned)

genre: smut & minor angst -> 18+only

warnings: smutty stuff, mentions of past toxic relationship, some soft!rafe, some mean!rafe, name calling, mentions of drugs, choking (in a non sexual way), ass slapping, cheating, unprotected sex, lmk if k forgot something

words: ~3.3k

request: okay!! i wanted to request a rafe x reader based off the song ‘why are you here’ by machine gun kelly. write it however you want🖤 (by anonymous)

summary: after seeing your ex rafe in the club, you have to learn once again why the two of you never could’ve worked out, no matter how much you both wished you could

note: this is a repost from my old blog, which is why you might have seen it before. also i don’t remember if it’s proofread

also big thank you to my baby @chaos-mybeloved for beta reading this one for me

also i’m sorry for the format idk how to format my stuff

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

“Baby, I’m gonna get another drink, you want one?” Topper screamed into your ear, trying to drown out the noise.

You shook your head with a smile and focused back on the music. They were playing your favorite song, there was no way you’d stop dancing just for another drink. The dance floor was full and still, most eyes were fixated on you, as you moved your body perfectly to the rhythm of the song. You were no professional dancer but you sure as hell knew what you were doing.

Concentrated on the music, you didn’t notice the new pair of eyes watching you from the corner of the dance floor. The young man was talking to the girl next to him but his gaze never moved from your body. The blonde must’ve noticed as her voice grew angry but the man didn’t seem to care. He wasn’t even listening to the words thrown at him, his attention only belonging to you.

The song was coming to an end and you opened your eyes back up, slowly adjusting to your surroundings. You did that sometimes while dancing, closing your eyes so you could focus more on the music and enjoy the moment instead of getting distracted by the people around you. You looked around, trying to see if you could find your boyfriend when your eyes met his. A sudden feeling of sadness and anger rushed through your body, keeping you from focusing. Your mind was all over the place, tons of thoughts blocking your mind all at once.

Unsure of how you got there, you found yourself in one of the club bathrooms, hanging above the sink. You tried to keep the tears inside your eyes and normally you were good at that but when it came to him, everything was different. You placed your hands on the sides of the sink, trying to keep your body from falling down when the door to the bathroom opened. You didn’t need to look up in order to know who it was.

“I’m pretty sure the tits on the door stand for “women”.” You spat out.

“(Y/N)…”

“What do you want, Cameron?” You hissed, now turning around to look directly into his light gray eyes.

His gaze went down to the ground, clearly trying to avoid your anger. “I don’t know… You looked sad and I… I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” You hissed, turning away from him. You looked into the mirror but the girl you met looked far from fine. Sure her makeup and hair looked perfect, but her eyes told a different story. They were watery, seconds from bursting out into tears. She tried to keep herself together but the presence of the boy behind her made everything harder.

You took a deep breath and looked at the boy in the mirror. His hair was a mess, sure it looked good, it always did but not because he put any effort into it. His lips were smiling but his eyes never were good at lying. You had always loved his eyes, the way they sparkled in the morning sun or the way they lit up when you told him one of your unfunny dad jokes that always made him laugh. He always sounded so beautiful when he was laughing, a sound you haven't heard in a very long time but missed terribly. He was in pain, clearly and it hurt you but it wasn’t that that was your fault. At least not completely.

“Listen…” He started, not sure if he should continue or just turn around and leave. “I… I’m sorry that you’re sad. Don’t like seeing you like this.”

“Don’t like seeing me like this?” You laughed. “That’s funny.” You turned around, now facing him directly. “Now be honest Cam-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“But that’s your fucking name now isn’t it?” You paused, walking one step closer to him. “Now be honest, why are you here, Cameron?”

“Like I already said (Y/L/N), because I wanted to see if you were okay.” He pressed, his face now only inches away from yours.

“Hmm. You see, I was okay I was having the time of my life until you and your blonde accessory of the week waltzed in.”

“Ohhh, my accessory of the week hm? Says the one who’s fucking my best friend.” His eyes were dark and his voice turned low. It was obvious how angry he was, something that had never stopped you from topping it off once more.

“That’s right Rafe Cameron, I’m fucking your best friend.” You paused, knowing if you’d go down that road, there would be no going back. “And guess what, he’s better at-” You wanted to continue but got cut off by Rafe's hand around your throat.

“Better at what sweetheart hm?” He whispered. “Tell me, darling.”

“There it is.” You grinned wickedly. “There’s the Rafe Cameron I know and hate.”

That hit him. It was obvious, his grip tightened around your throat and his eyes flickered. He knew you were mad at him but knowing you actually hated him, hit him harder than he thought it would. He wanted to say something, he wanted to spit out a response so dark even the devil would flinch but he couldn’t.

Your body tensed at the loss of oxygen flowing through your throat and you felt your heart fasten but you didn’t flinch. You met his dark gaze and countered with an even darker one. It was like when you were still together, you would challenge and provoke each other until one of you snapped. It had always been like this and it never changed even after you broke up.

He opened his mouth, about to say something when he stopped and let go of your throat. You gasped for air, your hand automatically wandering to your throat. He had done this shit before but never as strong and tight as he did now. His gaze wandered down to the hand on your throat and something in his eyes changed as if he was sorry. He held his hands up and took a few steps back until his back met the wall behind him.

“You know I… I…” He tried but clearly struggled with finding the right words. “I… I’m…” He looked at you, hoping for you to say something but you stayed silent. “You know what, forget it.” He pulled out before ripping the bathroom door open and making his way outside.

Split seconds later and his lips crashed onto yours. You didn’t quite remember how this happened, how your arm reached after him, how you pulled him towards you, or how he smashed the door back shut behind him, all you knew was how much you needed him, how much you missed him.

His hands wandered around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You had only been making out for a few seconds but you could feel his hardened erection on your body, which turned you on even more. Your hands wandered through his hair, something that you had always loved to do when you were making out.

“Let me show you who the better lover is, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear. “Bet Topper can’t make you scream the way I’m about to do.” His mouth wandered down your neck, gently kissing and sucking on your soft skin while his hand pushed down your left strap. Your dress was tight but it wasn’t enough to make it fall down your body but it was enough to make your left tit fall out.

He smirked at the sight of your exposed nipple before leaning down and gently sucking on it. He got more passionate with each second, causing you to grow impatient. You placed your finger under his chin and pulled his face back up to yours.

“I need you, to fuck me, Rafe Cameron. Now.” You whispered.

“Mhhh so needy for someone who hates me so bad.” He hummed with a grin on his face. “What would your boyfriend say if he saw his girl like this, all wet for me already, hm? Bet he can’t make you wet like this that fast.”

You rolled your eyes and hopped on the sink behind you, spreading your legs wide apart leaving him no choice but to look down at your exposed thong that was barely enough fabric to cover your folds. You gently let your hand wander through his hair before pulling him towards you. “I. Said. Fuck. Me. Rafe Cameron.” You smirked and continued: “Before I go out there and tell everyone that Topper's dick is bigger than yours.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Is it?”

“Oh god.” You groaned before pushing his head down to your crotch.

He chuckled before placing his teeth on your thong, ripping it from your body with one quick pull. You moaned at the sight of it and let your head fall back onto the mirror. He got down on his knees and started tongue fucking your pussy like there was no tomorrow. He had always had his special ways, techniques only Rafe Cameron knew how to use but this boy never failed to surprise you. You tried to keep quiet, afraid someone would hear you but he made it very hard when he added his thumb to the party. Soon, he started rubbing soft circles around your clit, something that had always been your weakness.

“Rafe…” You moaned out. “I’m close.”

He didn’t answer but you could feel him smirk against your soaking wet pussy. He sped up his pace, even adding another finger knowing how much you’d always loved it. You tried to hold on to the sink you were sitting on, nearly breaking off a nail as you press your fingertips against the cold ceramic. He could feel your walls tighten around his finger and shortly after, you were cumming all over him. He removed his finger and sucked off your juice, something he’d always loved to do.

You were still holding on to the sink, trying to prepare for what was about to come next. From experience you knew, there was no way in hell he’d let you go without having fucked you at least once, and regarding the boner that was pressing against your stomach, he wouldn't make an exception now.

He smashed his lips onto yours, not leaving any room for you to breathe. Your hands wandered down and unbuckled his belt, quickly exposing his hardened erection. You were about to push him inside you when pulled away.

“Uh, Uh, turn around for me baby, let me see that pretty ass of yours while I fuck you.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you quickly hopped off the counter and turned around making him able to slide right into you, causing you both to moan out at the sudden contact.

“Fuck (Y/N) you’re still so tight.”

“What, did you think Topper’s dick is so big it would’ve stretched me out?”

You could see his eye roll through the mirror, causing you to chuckle silently. “Glad to see you still have that pretty big mouth. Let’s see what we can do about that, huh?” He whispered into your ear as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached into his pocket and pulled the ripped piece of fabric before shoving it into your mouth. “Now, we don’t want anyone to find out what a dirty little slut you are now do we?” You nodded quickly, hoping it would get him to finally start fucking you.

Your hopes were heard and soon you were met with his hips thrusting into your ass, making clap sounds every time your skin touched. His hands held onto your hips as his thrusts got faster and faster with every move. He pulled your hips closer to him, changing the ankle which made him reach the spot that made you lose all your senses. You wanted to scream out his name but instead, felt tears forming in your eyes caused by your inability to do so.

This of cource didn’t go unnoticed by him, causing him to grin and only sped up his pace, fucking you even harder than before. His eyes wandered from your face down to your ass where he watched it wiggle because of his movements. He loved the sight in front of him, you being all messed up because of him, salty tears rolling down your face, colored black mixed with your eyeliner, and your ass presented in front of him, begging him to get slapped. In fact, it was his favorite sight. He tried not to think about it too much but he tried to burn that image deep inside his mind, scared he wouldn’t be able to see it again that fast, if ever.

He wished he could’ve gone like this forever but there was still the risk of getting caught and even though he didn’t care, he knew you would, and believe it or not but upsetting you was the last thing he wanted. So he softly let his hands slide over your body, down to your clit where he placed his finger for support. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder, as he still leaned over you. He loved the way your skin felt on his, a feeling he had never felt with anyone else. He loved the way your hair smelled when you let yourself fall back, even though he hated having hair on his face.

You weren’t able to moan his name out loud but by the way, your nails dug into his thigh, he knew you were close and so was he. He sped up once again, causing you to reach your high almost synchronized with him. You could feel his cum shooting through your body as you tried to recover from your own orgasm.

Even though you were able to free yourself from your own panties by now, you still had trouble catching your breath which didn’t go unnoticed by the boy, still inside of you.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked softly.

You nodded and gave him a happy smile through the mirror, causing him to smile himself. Oh, much he missed that smile. How much he missed you in general. But he knew you didn’t work out, you tried several times and it always ended in tears.

He slowly pulled out and quickly grabbed the piece of paper that you were handing him before you got yourself your own. The both of you cleaned yourself up and got back dressed. He wanted to say something, how much he enjoyed being close to you like this again but the words didn’t come out.

You watched him silently as he struggled to close his belt because it was stuck once again. You silently laughed at the sight in front of you, the boy that just fucked you mercilessly against the sink in the bathroom of your favorite club struggling with a task as simple as closing his belt. It reminded you of a side of Rafe, that he barely showed anyone these days. The side where he allowed himself to struggle, where he allowed himself to be human and not that perfect business robot, Ward Cameron tried to force him to be.

I'm a demon in the night

She's an angel with the white

Told me keep on all the lights

I'ma show you what you like

Help you put back on your clothes

Make sure nothing's on your nose

Ain't even tell my closest homies, nobody knows

“Here let me help you.” You said as you stepped forward and took the matter into your own hands. “I thought you’d thrown this thing out by now, it has been causing problems since the day I bought it for you.”

“It’s still working.” He answered, but there was a shift in his voice. He sounded harsher than before as if someone got into his mind and reminded him how he was supposed to act.

“Whatever you say then.” You mourned as you slid the belt into the buckle.

You got back up, ready to leave when he pulled you back. “You shouldn’t go out like that, here let me fix you.” He grabbed a piece of paper and poured some water on it, before softly removing black makeup stains from your face. He was very careful, not wanting to hurt you. “I think that’s it but maybe you should… like redo that or something… I don’t know. You always used to do that.”

“Right.” You grabbed into your bag and pulled out a thin, black eyeliner. “Do you want to do it? You used to like doing it.”

“Sure.” He chuckled. He wasn’t particularly good at drawing your eyeliner but you didn’t care. It always felt special when Rafe did your makeup, no matter if it looked perfect or not. You never let anyone do your makeup but there was something about the expression he made once he finished that you just couldn’t resist.

“You know… we could try to stay friends, at least.” You proposed carefully. “If you want to.”

“I don’t want to be your friend, (Y/N). When will you get that into your thick skull that this will never happen?” He spat out as he handed you back your eyeliner. “Like we could never be friends. Like… like what would we even do… as… as friends? Like, what would that friendship be good for?”

“Geez, as you wish Cameron, but know that this… whatever this was… will never happen again.” You paused, trying to fight back your incoming tears. “Like ever.”

“Fine by me.” He mumbled under his breath, but still loud enough for you to hear.

“Good, it’s settled then. I go back to Topper and you can go back to snorting coke off some whores ass.” You spat as you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the door.

He saw you walking through the crowd and stumbling back into the arms of your boyfriend.

Rafe knew he fucked up, but it was for the better. He knew how the both of you could get when you didn’t share the same opinion on something. He knew what power his words held over you if he lost control and said things he never wanted to say. He had seen you before, broken down on his kitchen floor between shattered bottles of glass after the both of you lost it. It was painful, seeing you walk back to Topper, the boy he used to call his best friend. He knew he’d go back to snorting coke, he could already feel the lack of substances in his blood and deep down, he knew Topper was the better man. He knew he wouldn’t hurt you the way he did, he never could and he was right. Topper could never hurt you the way Rafe did but that wasn’t because he was the better man, it was because Rafe had something that Topper never would. You loved him.

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

We can never be friends

[luvistqrzzz]

TRIVIA : LOVE — enhypen hyung line oneshot series

Finding love is not easy they say but what happens when you fall for someone at the most unexpected time in an unexpected way? — whisper a small oops and continue to fall further into the loophole of love.

aka the chronicles of a hopeless romantic soul

PAIRING && GENRE — hyung line x f!reader, can be read as stand alone oneshots, crack, ansgt, fluff, happy ending, more tba in individual fics

TAGLIST — open send an ask or comment to be added (you will be tagged for all the 4 fics) — @flwrshee @aosbie @rsmura @enhastolemyheart @yannew @sophiko22 @www-jungwon @nwjws @in-somnias-world @zzinyl @mrchweeee @ghostiiess @ilovecheese09

PERMANENT TAGLIST — @rikizm @str0l0gy @yenqa @heetoldme @crxzs @s00buwu @nhularin @bunreis @hysgf @mochamvgz @myonos — will be added in all parts

STATUS — to be released !!

AN — TYSM FLO @dollikis FOR THE MAIN BANNER ISTG SHE'S SUCH A GENIUS 🫶🏼🥹 I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF IT ILYSM FLO my banners for the rest of the fic look like shit 😻🤞🏼 i feel the general summary is so cringe ( if someone comes up w a better one then pls help 😭) ALSO the fics in the series are based on rom com books tbh ive been planning and editing the masterlist for the past two weeks ahaha so idk how to feel about it... technically im still on my writing hiatus but ill try to start working on the fics after exams,,, hope yall look forward to it hehe ^_^ !!

"It was like I was trying to memorize him — in case this was the last time I would ever see him." — (failed) STEPS TO NOT MISS YOUR EX

There were a lot of ways your sister's wedding could have gone wrong but none of them included you crossing paths with your ex who happened to be the assistant wedding planner.  Alternatively, where you were apparently "over" Lee Heeseung but an (almost) disastrous wedding made you think otherwise.

a luvistqrzzz rendition of save the date by morgan matson — [ read here ]

“Here's the thing about writing Happily Ever Afters: it helps if you believe in them.” — LETTERS TO YOU, ME AND THE BEACH

When a crippling writer’s block and an almost broke bank account forces you to move to an old family home, you didn’t expect to cross paths with your arch nemesis from high school, the ever obnoxious, Park Jay. But maybe the series of events that unfold during the summer could help you with a romantic book or two.

a luvistqrzzz rendition of beach read by emily henry — [ read here ]

“Note to self: Do not under any circumstances fall in love again.” — A 1000 WAYS BACK TO YOU

When Jake realizes he doesn't want to be (only) friends with you anymore, you are already moving halfway around the world and he's left alone on the other side of the line. Will it take two oblivious idiots 10 years and more than a hundred missed chances to see the feelings they've been hiding for long?

a luvistqrzzz rendition of where rainbows end by cecelia ahern — [ read here ]

"Well sure, who doesn't need a boyfriend? But realistically, those exotic creatures are hard to come by. At least a quality one.” — A STRANGER'S GUIDE TO LOVE AND CHRISTMAS

For Sunghoon, Christmas is like any other day, only a hundred times more crowded. But then he stumbles across a notebook at the local bookstore. A notebook full of... dares. As he and the anonymous author spend the entire Christmas eve swapping stories and dreams around the city of Seoul, where will it lead Sunghoon to?

a luvistqrzzz rendition of dash and lily's book of dares by rachel cohn and david levithan — [ read here ]

works belongs to @luvistqrzzz do not copy repost or translate my work

reblogs and feedback are heavily appreciated

networks- @hyfenet @enhanet @en-web @k-films

[fruitmins]

masterlist

caution — all rights reserved so don’t steal or repost anything to different platforms. this is for tumblr only. please keep in mind that i am a very young adult (as of right now) who made this blog purely to expand and improve my writing so my works won’t be as good or long as others.

k e y — ✓ completed ✐ ongoing დ fluff ⌬ angst ✞ smut

𝓢 𝓔 𝓡 𝓘 𝓔 𝓢

Agust Dad ⌬ ✐

Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever..

start here

𝙾 𝙽 𝙴 𝚂 𝙷 𝙾 𝚃/𝙳 𝚁 𝙰 𝙱 𝙱 𝙻 𝙴 𝚂

For You — yoongi⌬

Yoongi is the son of a big business man and is now the CEO of the million dollar company so naturally he grew up distant and stern. But suddenly, his attitude changes when he meets you, a local kind hearted stripper that catches his curiosity. He finds himself lost in your smile and warm spirit, despite him being the opposite. But he’s willing to let down his walls for you..

read here

Victory — namjoon⌬

Namjoon is a wolf hybrid who has a dark past with humans that ultimately landed him in a boxing ring, so he tries his very hardest to hate every single one of them. Even his mate, who happens to be a human nurse who works for the boxing ring. But everything changes when he finds you bleeding out with marks all around you..

read here

Attention — jimin✞

You’ve been stalking your ex ever since you two broke up. And he’s aware of this, but you know he won’t stop you cause he’s a little attention whore. Until he starts seeing some else so you have to remind him who he belongs too..

read here

Stay Focused — jungkook✞

in which your dorm mate and best friend Jungkook isn’t pleased to hear that your boyfriend was over the week he was away. but wow did he look hot when he was pissed off…

read here

Purple Car — jungkook ⌬ დ

in which jungkook is a successful solo idol and your his long time girlfriend that he hasn’t seen in almost two months. again. it’s starting to feel like your more like distant friends more than lovers so when you unexpectedly disappear, jungkook goes the distance to try to find you.

read here

ᴍ ɪ ɴ ɪ ꜱ ᴇ ʀ ɪ ᴇ ꜱ

Oᵤᵣ Bᵢg Bₐby / BTS OT7

➭genre: little space, age regression, fluff, caregivers bts, little reader, maybe some of the members can be littles to idk, sfw, hurt/comfort, mostly no plot

masterpost

[starfirette]

All Mine

⭐️reposting this because it didn't show up in the tags

⭐️ Jace Herondale x Fem! Brightlaw Reader

⭐️masterlist | here are your warnings: 17+ + PiV + fluffy smut + marking and possessive-ness + birth control runes

⭐️book/movie Jace??? Idk. I imagine movie Jace as Jace when I'm reading, which I'm doing rn, I'm rereading city of bones. I'm going to post the next three chapters of EWW to my ao3 this weekend, and maybe I'll get a good update out! Like a real one. Thanks everyone for being patient and bearing with me being a totally emotional spaz

Jace's room was usually clean. The immaculate space could only be described as that of belonging to a monk or a pastor, or any man who lived in quiet humbility. Typically the place was spotless: routinely dusted and the hardwood floors always swept--perhaps that was a trait he had picked up from Mayrse...she was a rather strong advocate for the neat freak movement, so perhaps something about being raised by her in his later years of childhood had rubbed off.

His stack of piano music books, and a few other personal belongings, tended to be neatly set on his dresser, the one with the huge mirror (the same one he probably spent forty minutes gazing into every morning).

But now the room was trashed. It had everything to do with the way Jace had dragged you around it. He'd tossed you on every possible surface and possessed your body. Books spilled across the edge as your hands buckled to find something to grip onto as Jace hoisted his hips hard against yours, filling you up with this long cock.

By now, it had been hours, and you were both on the bed.

His thumbs pressed hard into the flesh of your ass as he guided your hips back and forth, shushing you as he grinned like a fallen Angel.

"You like this cock, baby?" Jace asked, his curly golden hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. The flushed features of his sharp cheekbones and the flickering golden hue fading in and out of his crisp blue eyes reminded you of his angelic heritage.

"Come on, angel, answer me," Jace hissed as he tipped your face up. His long fingers pressed beneath your chin, and his eyes glittered gold with brief hunger as he examined the splotchy marks he'd littered on your throat.

"I do like it," you stammered out, still trying to hump his hips as fast and hard as you could. His cock was angled just right so it rubbed the spongy spot inside of you. Your clit was erect and pounding with rushing blood, beating fast like another pulse in your body.

"I like it, I like it," you whined, sounding pathetic and not at all like a Shadowhunter. What would your parabatai say if they knew just how cockdumb you'd become, and for Jace Herondale of all people. He easily was the most arrogant of all Shadowhunters.

"Yeah, I know you like it," Jace chuckled as he stroked your cheek with the back of his hands, the cool metal of his family rings, both the Wayland and the Herondale sigils passing over your flushed face. The coldness of the rings eased the sweat as Jace maneuvered his thumb to tickle your clitoris just lightly. It made your vision blur and you couldn't help but cry out.

"You own this cock, don't you?" Jace purred as he lazed back, his voice deep with pleasure as you cried in rumbling ecstasy. Your body was trembling all over and Jace caught you as you pushed forward, slumping over as you gave up on using your own hips to hump his dick.

Jace wrapped his arms around you. He had gotten bulkier, more muscular, since the last battle in Alicante against Jonathan's army; he'd found temporary peace in his excercising with Alec, as well as his clear mind. Heavenly Fire flooded his veins, making the apples of his cheeks rosy with rush and fever.

You groaned into the crook of Jace's neck as he held you together. Without his arms you might very well fall apart; come completely undone as Jace split you in half, releasing your shadowy soul and laying it to rest in the City of Bones.

"Daughter of The Brightlaws" your slated tombstone would read. "Killed by a Herondale cock."

Well, it'd be an interesting sight.

Jace's hips and thighs smacked up as he leaned back into the headboard of the large, Institute bed. He cradled you in his arms and softly groaned as he fucked into you. Your teeth sank over the Star shaped mark on his shoulder as his skin wettly slapped into yours.

"Gotta suck something to keep quiet?" Jace chuckled as your lips suckled onto the mark. "That's fucking hot. That's right, suck. Like it's my cock, okay?"

Your lips cramped as tears dropped down your cheeks. Your upteenth orgasm was stirring inside of you, churning like cream into sugar. It was a sweeter feeling than any cake batter or cookie dough; a stronger and hotter feeling than any fine whiskey or vodka you'd ever tasted.

Jace hissed as your teeth nipped his collar bone. The skin was blotched red and purple and it stained the Star mark on his shoulder.

You shuddered violently as cum spilled outside of you. It was leaking down your thighs, coating Jace's pelvis; it was a salty mix of the both of you: it was the last of the Herondales and Brightlaws, and it was being wasted on sloppy, sloppy sex; what would the consul say? How would the Clave react if they knew your left shoulder blade was coated with a birth control rune, courtesy of Clary Fairchild.

The sound of Jace's cock plunging in and out through the sticky flood of semen was erotic on its own. It lubricated your pounding clit so that even the lightest touch made you flinch in the best of ways.

"Cum on it again, okay, Angel? I can't get enough of the feeling. Aw, baby, don't cry," Jace chuckled as he used a thumb to wipe away the tears that settled on your cheeks. "I'm going to take such good care of you. Don't you know how much I love you?"

The creaking of the bed crescendoed into a slamming against the walls. No doubt the other residents were hearing all of this, and no doubt would they guffaw and joke about it during breakfast the next day.

"I love you," Jace said, his voice breathless as he held your hips down firmly. His cock was twitching and pounding as it hammered inside of you. His thighs were thick and full with muscle as they flexed to keep himself from collapsing into the mattress. His entire body burned with tire but he couldn't stop. He needed one more, one more burst of ecstasy with you. "I will love you until I die. And if there's a life after that? I'll love you then. Can't let my Angel be all alone...need to keep her company."

Your jaw went slack as drool dripped from your lips, sticking to the Herondale star as you emitted mindless sounds into his golden skin. "I love you, Jace," you said between hiccuping moans.

"And my cock?"

You couldn't help but laugh between the thrusts. "Even your cock, baby."

Jace firmly smacked you on the ass as he made a little noise of praise. "That's right. You love it. You love it, you own it; you milk it so good. Your wet pussy hugs me just right. Raziel made you for me."

His blue eyes flared with golden flame; the heavenly fire was forcing its way out of hiding, making his hands warm as the groped across your body. "You're all mine."

[ffsg0jo]

tw: cannibalism (yeah idk guys, i shocked myself. this was supposed to be cute 😭)

chimera suguru, who clawed up from the depths of tartarus, carrying the unfulfilled wishes of the dead on his clipped wings. it may be too late for him to soar up to the heavens now, but he sure as hell can drag as many people as possible with him to the bowels of the hellfire.

chimera suguru, who's got two long blackened horns, protruding from his hairline. a thin scaled tail trailing after him, and a long mane of luscious black hair. on his back rests heavy, wings as black as the night sky, dotted with flecks of gold. there's something so tragically beautiful about him that people can't help but stop and stare. upon looking closely, they find an alarmingly deep bitterness in the brown pearls of his eyes.

chimera suguru, borne from vengeance, filled to the brim with an innate desire to corrupt and destroy. he controls his urges as best as he can, but something inside of him purrs to release the wrath of his foremothers when seeing the looks 'normal' hybrids and humans give him. like he's frankenstein's monster, unnatural and a crime against a higher power, or mr hyde, deformed and inherently evil.

as if there's anything 'normal' about being a hybrid in the first place. besides, if it's a monster they seek, who is he to hide?

chimera suguru, who settles for feasting on the flesh and blood of regular humans. he hates it. he hates it so so much, and they taste like misery, but he really can’t help it. the voice in his head finally settles and quietens down when indulging in his latest victim, making sure to lick the blood clean off his lips. it’s not enough though, as soon as the last bite goes down his throat, his bloodlust increases tenfold. he hates what he’s becoming, but it’s an eat or be eaten world... right?

chimera suguru, who feels broken and messily glued back together. constantly in pain and agony, trying to reconcile with the two parts of him, split between somewhat moral and immoral. id growing stronger and stronger, silencing the superego, and tossing the ego aside. he wants his torment to end, the voices to quiet, the divine retribution in his blood to spill.

chimera suguru, who lays his eyes on you and an unfamiliar emotion churns in the depths of his gut. he’s so used to feeling hot flashes of ugly emotions, but looking at you, it was like crawling out of hell, on his knees, and onto heaven's gate. a hot, fluttery feeling slowly travelling throughout his body. he loathed it. he basked in it.

he’s never wanted to be closer to someone as he has you.

an: i tried to write a cute hybrid thing, but it ended up coming out like this. im not mad at it, but suguru and reader would NOT be a healthy dynamic. like at all.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[keepingitformyself]

learning to warm cold hands

A/N: i don’t know what this is????? just a bunch of love nonsense because i was in the absolute mood for love (you’ll see). will it make sense? idk. the ending was intentionally made abrupt… hope u like it tho :]

synopsis: two people who love each other belong together. that’s it.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff?

warnings: none i don’t think…

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

—————————————

natasha still doesn’t know how to deal with it; being loved.

but every little obstacle she has ever faced in her life has been that she had to deal with it.

sometimes she’s still a bit astonished at the fact that she has an entire family who has her back, a sister who calls just to annoy her, a best friend who defends her, and you who she comes home to, to kiss and to love endlessly.

natasha thinks that in some sense she had always been in love with you. for the amount of time you’d know each other she thought it was so strange that it took so long for you to be together.

you were always there, in plain sight. then one day, the stars decided to align and you were there and she had finally seen the light.

so yes, natasha decides that you were the best thing she’s ever had to deal with. being in love with you? she will own up to it for as much as she can.

she has accepted the scary fact that she must let herself be known. she shall let you unravel her and climb inside her heart and choose to stay. she will deal with the consequences of it later, but she hopes not.

she carries a polaroid of you in her wallet as a reminder of this. it’s there when she opens it to pay for dinner with you, or groceries, or when she sees a bouquet of lillie’s she thinks you’d appreciate.

and when she comes home to your shared apartment you’re there in the kitchen cooking a meal for her.

‘my grandmas recipe. i know you loved them when she came to visit us.’ you say as you stir a pot on the stove. she lets out a laugh through her nose and comes up behind you for a hug.

‘i made it dairy free for you. i know you’re trying to cut that off a little.’ natasha’s heart swells even bigger.

when the food is ready and the table is set and you’ve put the lillie’s in a vase at the center of the table, you will sit together and eat. natasha will listen to you as you tell her about the dish.

how you cried chopping the onions and had to take a break in between, how much you thought about her liking this meal while you made it, and how you specifically only used red and orange peppers because you remember her telling you that ‘green is boring when it comes to vegetables’ and when you’re done with your rambling you’ll reach over the table and kiss her.

she’ll tell you she loves you and you tell her she has onion breath and you’ll both laugh and god being in love is such a beautiful thing.

but everyone has their bad days.

you usually enjoy the rainy weather but it’s that time of the month and it’s effecting your mood swings greatly. natasha offers to go out and buy your favorite snacks and a deli sandwich from the bodega two blocks down.

you decline her offer with a sad smile and hide yourself under the covers of your shared bed. natasha sighs, she knows you better than that. she knows how badly you want all those things but she also knows how much of an inconvenience you feel like when you get like this. she tries to let you know that she’s okay with going out in the rain to make you happier.

you don’t budge, instead you groan into the pillows and hide further into the sheets. ‘i just need to be alone for a while.’ you mutter, a bit annoyed.

with a new determined mindset she decides she’ll give you the space you need. she brushes off all comments you made and grabs her coat before quietly leaving out the front door.

the rain doesn’t bother her one bit. she makes it to the bodega in record timing and orders from the deli. your order leaves her mouth as if she were ordering for herself.

‘can i have teriyaki grilled chicken on a sourdough with three slices of mozzarella and honey mustard, some grilled onions on the side too, can you also toast the bread for about thirty seconds longer? please, thank you.’ she orders for herself and smiles at the man working the grill then sets off on finding your desired snacks.

she’s quick with it, easily acquiring the cucumber lime gatorade you love so much, a payday bar and baked hot cheetos. she pays at the front where her deli order waits and rushes home to you.

she checks her phone on the way only to find it with four missed calls from you. the worst comes to mind and she’s home within two minutes.

she finds you on the couch looking small, her heart drops when she spots the tears that stain your cheeks. ‘i thought you were upset after i told you i wanted space.’ you mumble out. natasha sighs and sets the stuff down. she takes careful steps towards you, afraid you might disappear if she does anything too quickly.

‘no..’ she grasps your cheeks, her thumb brushing along your cheekbones. ‘i just wanted to make you feel better.’ she kisses your forehead. ‘it wasn’t anything to do with me being upset.’

you look down almost in shame. you hate being so sensitive, it makes you worry even more and you feel like an even bigger bother when things like this happen. your mind gets way ahead of your heart and you let things bother you that you know shouldn’t.

natasha notices the wheels turning in your brain. she recognizes the mental battle you’re having with yourself. your shoulders slump a little, she knows you’re tired. you’re biting your lips to keep from saying anything.

‘hey..’ natasha whispers. her heart clenches a little. it’s such a silly thing, all this. the normal you wouldn’t have let anything get this far. she laughs a little at the fact. screw periods.

‘why are you laughing?’ you’re confused and your girlfriend is laughing at you. it makes her laugh a little more and you grow a little impatient.

natasha pulls you in closer. her arms enclose around your waist and her chin rests on your shoulder. ‘i love you, okay?’ she whispers it in your ear.

she hugs you tighter.

‘whatever you’re thinking right now is only half true.’ she tells you. you’re just as confused as ever and you’re about to ask her what she means but then she’s pulling away and grasping your cheeks in her hands.

‘i want to be inconvenienced by you.’ the look in her eyes is as soft as ever. her lips have a slight tremble to them. ‘please bother me, like all the time.’

‘you are the very notion of my existence. i want everything that i do to be for you.’ she says it with that raspy tone in her voice, you know she means everything she’s telling you.

you are putty in her hands at this point, she went out and ordered your favorite comfort meal in the pouring rain…after you told her not to. because she knows you. the intimacy of it all, she knows you and she chooses to stay after the stupid things that come out of being with you.

she notices the slight furrow of your eyebrows, you’re processing what she’s just told you. you never say anything, instead you pull her in and bury your nose into her shoulder. natasha hears your inhale and she holds you even tighter.

she smells like home. like the candle you love to leave on all day, the fabric softener you use to wash her clothes, that perfume you complimented her on your first date.

a silent understanding settles between you both.

you feel the absolute removal of any walls when around each other. you have seen sides of natasha not even her own best friend has seen, or her sister.

she makes the corniest jokes, you always laugh, sometimes snort and that makes you laugh even harder. when you’re having dinner it’s silent. but it’s a good silence. the silence is comfortable and she’s holding your hand while the other is holding her spoon and when either of you talk, it’s listening and you feel like the most heard person in the world.

it all feels so perfectly warm in the bubble you’ve created together. you feel so seperate from the rest of the world in the best ways possible. in the they don’t us like we know us kind of ways.

you pull away to look at her. your heart is cradled in her hands.

[signedmio]

Hi there! Long time fan, first time requester! I’m autistic and my current hyper fixation is the HELLAVerse so I got super excited when I saw you’re writing for Helluva now! I was hoping for fem/gn reader with Stolas, Millie, Blitz, and your choice where they go to lulu land for a birthday or an anniversary? I love theme park date ideas and wanna see your take on it if you’d like!

Also, could I be 🍎 anon? I’d love to interact more now that I’ve gotten this far!

𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳ø, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

a/n: heyo!! ofc you can be 🍎anon!! when i read this i was kinda confused cause i didn’t know if you meant lu-lu WORLD by lucifer or loo loo LAND — the knock off of lucifer’s, which i think is owned by mammon? idk i’m still rewatching the episodes haha. but i think you meant the one via and stolas went to in season 1 so i hope i’m right ^^” and yes ofc!! don’t be scared to interact haha, i won’t bite. even if it’s not request related i can stir up quite the convo XD anyway, on with the show :)

warnings: profanity, mentions of possible age-gaps in stolas’s part, implied violence in millie’s part

proofread: yep

tags: helluva boss, x reader, fic, stolas, blitzø, millie

𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳ø

blitzø quite honestly doesn’t understand all that hype about loo loo land, but if it makes you happy, than hey, fuck it, am i right?

the only thing he genuinely doesn’t like is the possibility of running into fizz, they may have sorta made up, but it’s still a bit awkward — at least for now

he’ll go do all the rides with you, even the ones he thinks are dumb, or straight-up creepy, whether he says it or not he likes seeing you get all excited about it

although, he genuinely does get into the rides that go upside-down and backwards and that go crazy fast, he’s screaming out of excitement the whole damn way, and you both probably end up going on those like 100 times

and yes, he did spend the fifty dollars on that novelty cup that you can only use once, all for you

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

while at loo loo land, he may baby you just a tad, especially if you’re an age-gap couple where he’s significantly older

like blitzø, he’ll go on all the rides with you, but not the big, scary rides like blitzø would do, nah, stolas would do the kiddy ones and sit there clap his hands like a small child…

as we can see in S1E2, he will spend a shit ton of money on any kind of merchandise like shirts, hats, cups, toys, etc — will probably bring something from for via as well

speaking of via, her father will constantly be sending her pictures of the two of you while on your outing, while octavia is stuck at home with stella…

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞

once millie finds out your going to loo loo land for her birthday, she’s over the moon!! she gets packed and dressed up and everything!!

she gets all excited like a little kid, she’ll be the first one rushing you both to any sort of ride, kiddy or not, or any of the game booths

honestly, it’s very heart-warming and sweet to see this grown ass woman get excited about a theme park, and i’m not even kidding

though she won’t hesitate to tear anyone apart who even thinks about ruining her birthday date for either of you…

i do not permit for my work to be reposted, translated, or stolen. all rights go to signedmio. characters are not mine, unless stated, and belong to their rightful creators.