#what the fuck would be the point of that?

[taegimood]

— my girl (c.yj) ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader genre: friends to lovers, non-idol au, smut, fluff rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 6.1k warnings: unprotected sex, pwp (6k but most of it is smut tbh lol), softdom!yeonjun, inexperienced!reader, dry humping, oral + fingering (f receiving), squirting, petnames (baby, princess, doll, good girl, pretty girl), yeonjun refers to himself as daddy, spanking, creampie, multiple orgasms (f receiving), light choking but not (he doesn’t squeeze), one instance of spitting, it’s established that jun is older than reader so OPPA IS USED AS AN HONORIFIC and idc if people hate it lol as a korean speaker i’m tired of westernizing shit

a/n - pls picture temptation era hair yeonjun 😵‍💫 this is inspired by a dream i had.. dreamt every part in his room up until the actual penetration 😮‍💨 cockblocked by my own brain

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yeonjun’s sheets are soft as you sit observing his bedroom, taking note of all the little details that his strong personality shines through, the first time you’ve seen the other side of his door — though how you even got to this point in the first place is still something you’re going over and over in your head as you wait for him to come back.

his soft smile is met with your nervous one as he enters the room with two water bottles in hand, shutting the door quietly behind him — your eyes follow his lithe fingers as he turns the lock — and you watch as he places the drinks on his nightstand before turning to you.

the air suddenly feels much warmer when he sits down on the bed beside you, so close that you’re almost touching, and that fond look on his face only serves to heighten your nerves as you remember that he knows what he’s doing, and you don’t.

well… sort of.

everything happened only a few hours before.

your best friend kai had invited you to hang out with him and his roommates, a chaotic group of guys who you’ve grown to call your friends as well; even yeonjun, who you may or may not have developed the hugest crush on ever from the minute that you’d first met him.

it’d been a few months of back-and-forth, sometimes convinced that it must be mutual and other times doubting your judgement completely — has he always been this flirty, or is it your imagination when his eyes linger just a little too long? — and it was on this fateful day at their apartment when it all fell apart.

(or should you say, all came together).

everyone knows to watch out once beomgyu’s got a couple of drinks in him, so it was only a matter of time before your unlucky day came when he’d decide that you would be his glorious first victim of the afternoon; and that was exactly where you found yourself as he took it upon himself to announce to everyone in the room that you and yeonjun needed to admit you wanna fuck each other already, or else he’d “just have to do something about it himself” (whatever that meant).

to say you wanted to crawl into a ditch and die would be the biggest understatement of the century.

your wide eyes were pinned to the floor as the room erupted into multiple reactions; soobin groaning with a smack upside beomgyu’s head as he scolded the younger not to say stuff like that, taehyun’s “damn,” as he knocked back his beer to cover a laugh, kai burying his head into his hands with a shriek — he swore he didn’t mean to spill your secret to beomgyu a few weeks ago, it just slipped out — and of course, the culprit in the center laughing his ass off unphased.

the only one who had yet to say anything was…

you steeled yourself and glanced up, meeting yeonjun’s eyes that were already watching you from across the living room.

your own widened marginally.

he didn’t look disgusted. he didn’t look put off. in fact, he looked…..

your breath caught. there was a small upturn to his lips, a confirmation, the hint of a smile that solidified as he quirked a brow as if in question. as if he was asking you,

“well? what should we do about it then?”

and everything changed from there.

~

it hadn’t taken long for beomgyu’s quick-moving attention span to be directed elsewhere thanks to some faithful effort on hyuka’s part, the others following suit to spare you from the spotlight — and it was only about an hour later when you found yourself alone in the kitchen for a breather, the sounds of your friend’s quarreling and laughter slightly less eardrum-shattering now from where you stood leaning against the sink.

a few minutes passed before the sound of someone else slipping into the room grabbed your attention.

your peace quickly morphed into apprehension.

“hi,” yeonjun whispered, a small smile on his face that read somewhere between gentle and amused.

his hands were in his pockets as he came to lean casually against the counter opposite you, head tilted slightly to the side as his eyes trailed over your expression, and you cursed your mouth for going dry at the sight of him.

his simple black tank top and sweatpants combo had you fighting to keep your eyes on his face — his face, pretty and framed so nicely by silky black hair that was grown out quite a bit longer than usual these days, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it as your thighs rubbed together subconsciously.

“…hi,” you whispered back.

he breathed out a small laugh.

“i wanted to talk to you, but i didn’t want the others to hear.. figured this was a good opportunity when i saw you get up.”

“r-right..”

why am i so awkward? what the fuck? oh god wait why is he coming closer-

your hands gripped the counter behind you as yeonjun stepped forward. his voice was low, quiet, meant only for you as he stood in front of you with a look on his face that had you melting in more ways than one.

“listen... i know that we’ve never talked about this thing between us. i didn’t wanna scare you off by being too forward, but now that beomgyu ran his mouth about it…”

with a feather-light touch, yeonjun reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“well, i’m not gonna deny what he said, and i’m pretty sure that i’m right when i say.. i think you want me the same way that i want you.”

you felt heat running down your entire body like a zap of electricity.

your fried brain didn’t even have the chance to fully process before you heard beomgyu shout from the living room, “hey, what’s taking so long?!” and the scent of yeonjun’s cologne was like a drug as he leaned in and whispered in your ear,

“if you feel ready to see where this goes.. stay here with me when they go out.”

and just like that he was gone, random assortment of snacks in hand to avoid suspicion as he called back to beomgyu, “i’m coming, just couldn’t decide what to eat!”

and you slumped against the counter with legs like jelly.

~

you received a chorus of groans and boos when you told the guys you were gonna go home instead of joining them elsewhere for dinner and drinks, earning brief suspicion only from taehyun as he eyed you questioningly for a moment — their focus primarily resting on yeonjun’s uncharacteristic opt-out that he’d blamed on a sudden migraine.

you felt ridiculous as you even headed down the elevator with them to the street outside, going out of your way to be believable, rounding the corner towards the subway station until they were well out of sight before heading back up towards the apartment.

you’d’ve been lying if you said that you didn’t consider leaving yourself; your jittery nerves and quick-beating heart nearly convincing you, until you remembered the look in yeonjun’s eyes and the wetness between your legs returned.

yeonjun, choi yeonjun, one of the most popular and charismatic guys that you know — wants you.

and now here you are on his bed.

when you think about it, in your eyes yeonjun is a lot of things that you’re not; the way he just naturally draws people in, the way he carries himself, always making friends so easily; the fact that he’s genuinely cool, somehow good at everything he does and always looks hot doing it; he’s older than you — not by much, but still — and the number one thing on your mind right now:

he’s experienced.

now you’re no virgin, but your measly 1 past boyfriend is nothing in comparison to the fact that yeonjun’s ability to please a woman is a very well-checked box on his long list of skills (if beomgyu is correct about anything he’s blabbed about, at least. which today so far he seems to be).

and now, as he sits here so close to you with that same look on his face as before, that gentle smile and amused little twinkle in his eyes — well, you know right then that you’re a goner.

“hi,” he whispers, just like he did in the kitchen earlier, and you whisper it back with a shy smile.

this is the first time you’ve ever truly been alone with him.

he looks at you for a few moments, and you wonder if this is what amoebas feel like under a microscope until he places his hand on the bed beside you and rests his weight on it, by default leaning in even closer than before.

“i like you.” he says simply.

in panic mode, you resort to sarcasm - “y-yeah-“ you clear your throat - “um, yeah, i think we established that.”

his laugh sends tingles through you as a real smile not stricken with awkwardness finally blooms on your face, the ice slowly melting for you as you start to remember that right, okay, he’s a friend and not some unreachable deity (for the most part, at least).

“i.. like you too,” you respond sheepishly, and you bite your lip at the underlying shift in his tone as he keeps his eyes locked on yours and says,

“i know.”

the mood has suddenly deepened into something else.

his hand comes up to your cheek, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “is this okay?” and you don’t know when his face got so close to yours but your eyes are already threatening to flutter shut as you hum in response, lidded gaze glued to his full, pretty lips that you want so desperately all over your body.

“words, baby.” he voice is a whisper, breath warm against your lips, his own so close now that you can almost feel them —

“y-yes.”

and just like that, choi yeonjun is kissing you.

whatever you thought a real kiss was supposed to feel like, whatever kisses you had felt with your ex —

none of it compared to this.

you feel his smile when you quietly moan, his lips even softer than you had imagined, moving against yours slowly, deliberately, expertly, the hand that had been on your cheek sliding gently to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss.

his tongue is warm and soft as it traces along your bottom lip, and you don’t care how eager you probably seem as you let it in immediately, trying not to moan again as he slips it past your lips to caress yours; you melt as he sucks lightly on your tongue before giving a teasing, gentle bite to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

you can’t even imagine how dazed you must look — but his knowing smile tells you enough.

you can’t explain it, but in that moment you gain a hunger-fueled confidence. you want to give yeonjun everything.

fuck, you want him bad.

you’re pulling him back to you faster than you can chicken out otherwise, and the pleased noise he makes as you connect your lips again only spurs you on further to do what you’ve been so badly wanting to:

you touch him, hands sliding from his shoulders up to his soft hair, pulling at it gently as his lips travel down your jaw to suckle at the skin of your neck; you moan, freely this time, eyes sliding shut and head tilting back to give him all the access he wants as you wrap an arm around his shoulders and keep him close.

his hand slides around your waist to your lower back as he slowly guides you down to lay against his sheets, your legs instinctively widening for him as he slots his hips between them, and you groan at the bulge now resting comfortably against your clothed core.

it doesn’t take long before he gently rocks his hips forwards.

you whimper, clutching to his tank top as he continues to kiss and suckle along your neck; your legs tighten around his hips and his lips tilt into a smirk against your skin as your body responds to his like it’s what it was made for, and so he does it again, this time continuing into a steady rocking pace.

the hardness of his cock drags deliciously against your center as he rolls his hips into it again and again, slow enough so that you feel everything, but firm enough that it makes your head spin and your thighs twitch with need.

“oppa,” you whisper, pleadingly, and you don’t even know what you’re asking for but you know that you just need more.

“hm?” he hums back, lips still sucking pretty bruises into your neck,

and it’s like he can read your mind as he asks with another smirk against your skin - “want more, baby?”

you nod quickly with a weak, “mhm,” and your heart jumps as his lips move up to your ear.

“tell oppa what you want.”

the husk of his voice sends shivers straight downwards.

he pulls away just enough for you to meet his eyes and you feel like a rabbit hunted down by a fox, but in your case, you never want to escape from his grasp.

“i.. i-i want…”

you can feel the heat blooming in your cheeks, remembering once again how much you haven’t experienced, and you want to tell him exactly where you want him to put his mouth — but instead your eyes avert from his as you mumble in admission,

“i-i’ve never been… well i’ve never been eaten out before. s-so.. um..”

in your peripheral you can see yeonjun’s brows lift to his hairline in disbelief. “what?”

a finger beneath your chin gently draws your gaze back to his and the genuine bewilderment in his eyes is enough to deepen your blush as he asks, “how could that bastard have possibly survived never tasting you?”

your body buzzes with electricity as your eyes widen; there’s a hunger and determination dancing in yeonjun’s stare that you’ve never been looked at with before.

his intensity makes you shiver in anticipation and it’s like you can taste the honey dripping from his words when he says,

“let me make you feel good, baby. let me give you everything that he should’ve.”

your head spins.

you’ve never felt so desired.

the second that you say okay, yeonjun places one last dizzying kiss to your lips before he’s moving down your body, guiding you out of your shirt as he slowly maps out your skin with his lips — you breathe out a sigh at the way his large hands caress you, intentionality in every touch.

eventually he sits up on his knees, pulling back from a kiss to your navel to reach for the hem of your panties. you shiver when his fingers ghost over your hips.

“lift for me,” he instructs softly, and you do, biting your lip as he begins to slowly pull them down, eyes glued to your cunt, and you watch the way his breath hitches in his throat at the strings of wetness that cling to the fabric.

“fuck,” he whispers, practically groans,

“can’t believe no one’s ever tasted such a pretty pussy before… gonna eat you so good, baby..”

you’re going out of your mind with need, his words alone sending another gush of arousal to your heat, your hungry eyes traveling down to trace the imprint of his rock-hard cock in his sweatpants.

teasingly you ghost your foot over it as he slides your panties from your ankles, and his eyes flicker up to yours as you stare back innocently; his gaze narrows and lips quirk up into a lopsided smirk as his warm hands slide up your legs.

“getting brave, now, are we?” he taunts, stopping at your thighs as he wraps his hands around them and spreads your legs open.

slowly he lowers himself between them, all the while keeping his eyes on yours, and your hips jump at the whisper of his breath against your aching cunt when he says,

“better be careful, doll… any game you try to play, i can play it better.”

and when his fingers spread you open and his lips kiss your clit, you already know that he’s ruined you for any other man.

how could you even dream of anyone else when the tip of yeonjun’s velvety tongue slips out to trace teasingly up and down your slit, or when the pad of his finger circles so lightly around your leaking hole that you might even be imagining it?

no, there’s no way you could be imagining this, not as the warmth of his mouth caresses you as he closes his lips around your clit and gently begins to suck, your head tipping back with a shudder as you whine at the feeling.

“eyes on me, princess,” he murmurs against your cunt, and when you manage to bring your gaze back to his, the sight before you is sinful.

his foxlike eyes dark and dangerous and twinkling as he watches you through his lashes, pretty lips forming a smirk that you can only feel and not see as he whispers “good girl,” - before the next thing you know, his tongue is flattening against you as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy, big hands keeping your jerking hips in place as he begins to ravish you, sucking, licking, kissing, groaning shamelessly at the taste of you and sending vibrations straight through your quivering core as you unravel beneath his touch.

“so fucking good,” he moans, sliding a finger inside of you with ease as he begins to pump it steadily in and out, practically making out with your pussy as you whimper, hands instinctively flying to his hair — you almost pull them away when suddenly he adds another digit, the stretch causing your fingers to tighten in his dark strands as your hips instinctively grind forwards against his mouth.

you’re about to apologize when yeonjun moans even deeper than before.

“that’s it, baby,” he grunts, “use my face. want it so bad, don’t you? go ahead and chase it, cum all over daddy’s tongue.”

something unholy snaps inside of you at that.

“f-fuck-” you cry, doing exactly as he said; you can’t help it as you grind your clit down on his warm tongue over and over and over, hands tightening in his hair as his fingers work impossibly faster, and a new sensation takes over you as the dam breaks and you reach your peak;

you don’t realize what’s happening at first as you’re carried through the most mind-blowing orgasm, until you feel the unusual amount of wetness soaking his sheets and hear yeonjun groaning “fuck, fuck, that’s it, baby, that’s it -“ and he’s three fingers deep as you realize you’re squirting.

it’s as though he can read your body like a book the way he can tell when it’s suddenly too much, his pace slowing gradually until he gently slides his fingers from your sopping hole, placing a final feather-light kiss to your clit before his lips and hands move to soothe your quivering thighs.

“you did so good, baby, holy shit..” the bottom half of his face is soaked in your juices as he mouths along your skin, hands massaging and caressing whatever his lips aren’t kissing;

you’re still bewildered, and can feel the raging blush on your cheeks as you’re quick to blurt in embarrassment, “i-i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to-“

“y/n.” yeonjun looks up. “seriously, that was so fucking hot, you have no idea.”

you can see in his eyes that he’s telling the truth.

“r-really?”

he laughs, finally sitting up; “baby, i- fuck, like, you actually have no fucking idea how sexy you are.” he pushes his hair out of his face and it’s only then that you realize how heavy he’s breathing, the bulge straining against his pants somehow a million times more prominent than it was earlier.

“y/n, i’m so turned on right now that i can hardly think straight. please-“

you meet his eyes again quickly,

“please, i need to be inside you.”

apparently today is the day that you learn just how crazy choi yeonjun makes you, because despite your still-twitching thighs and your pussy so sensitive that you’re sure a slight breeze would send it into overdrive, your body is quick to betray you at his toe-curling words when your walls clench from the emptiness and a fresh wave of arousal gushes from your soaked heat.

“if you don’t fuck me right now i’m gonna go clinically insane.”

his brows lift only for a moment before he’s laughing, swooping down to catch your lips in a kiss. “well we can’t have that, now, can we?”

he gets off the bed, your eyes hungrily tracking his every move as he peels the tank top from his torso and casts it to the ground; “fuck,” you whisper as your gaze trails down the defined ridges of his abs; “fuck,” you groan when he hooks his thumbs around the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls them down with his boxers in one go.

his cock is long and slender and flushed pink, the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen as you imagine the weight of it in your mouth.

if it were anyone else, you’d wanna slap the shit-eating grin right off of his face, but this is yeonjun, and the fact that he knows he’s all that only makes him 10x hotter.

you can’t tear your eyes away from his length as you sit up on your elbows to watch, and he enjoys it, pumping himself in his hand and smearing the pre-cum around his tip with a satisfied hum.

but as he reaches for the condoms in his desk drawer, you surprise both him and yourself when you stop him.

“no.”

he pauses, looking over his shoulder at you with quirked brows —

“want you to fuck me raw.”

his mouth goes dry. you can see the fire dancing in his eyes as he slowly straightens, keeping himself under control as he asks carefully,

“are you sure?”

you bite your lip and quickly nod. “wanna feel you,” you breathe, and that does it for yeonjun as he’s back on top of you in an instant, his lips pressing to yours in a searing kiss as you moan around his swirling tongue.

his hand is on your throat, not squeezing, just resting there as if to say you’re mine, and you whine deep in your chest when you feel the tip of his cock sliding through your slippery folds.

“gonna fuck this pretty pussy so full of my cum that it’ll be dripping out of it for days,” he rasps as he taps the head of his cock repeatedly over your clit, the lewd noise met with your whimpers as you grasp at his bicep.

“please,” you whine, “want it, please-!”

his hand slides from your neck down to squeeze your tit as he sits up and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder with his free hand.

“so good for me,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded and lusting as he looks down at you, dragging his shaft back and forth along your slick pussy; “such a good girl, begging for daddy.”

and when he finally pushes the head of his cock past your entrance, stretching you open as he sinks inside, stars explode behind your eyes and you nearly cum again right there on the spot.

“fuuck..” he groans in a drawn-out moan, eyes sliding shut and head tipping back as your walls suck him in, mouth falling open before he catches his plush bottom lip between his teeth and looks back down at you through hazy eyes, giving another rough squeeze to your tit in his grasp.

he slides his hand down to press against your lower belly as he bottoms out, your hips twitching as you gasp, and with his other hand he grips your leg that’s slung over his shoulder as he begins to grind his hips against yours.

you can’t breathe, can’t speak, overwhelmed by how fucking good it all feels, the head of his cock massaging places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed as he rolls his hips over and over, whispering fucked-out nothings;

how tight you are, how good you feel, how he’s gonna make you forget your own name by tomorrow.

and when he starts really moving, hips separating from yours only to connect again with a lewd slap of skin on skin each time he delivers a slow, firm thrust to your cunt, holding you in place so you don’t jolt up the bed — well, you never knew that something so delicious existed, and now that you’ve had a taste, you’re already rendered insatiable.

you paw at any part of him that you can reach, hands finding purchase on his thighs as his pace picks up into a steady rhythm, your lips moaning and pleading and begging around words that you can hardly get out of your mouth.

“look at you,” yeonjun coos breathlessly, “so drunk on my cock already.. perfect pussy made just for me, hm? taking daddy so well? good baby.”

he looks as blissed out as you feel, face wracked in pleasure as he picks up the pace, his hand so large where it still presses over your lower belly that his thumb is able to reach your clit, and the added stimulation along with the pressure of his palm sends your head lolling as you twitch and tremble underneath him.

“j-jjunie..!” you whimper, and you can’t help the nickname from slipping between your lips; you’ve never called him so intimately before, never said his name so freely, but your accidental drop of honorifics seems to stir something inside of him as he groans and fucks you harder;

“say that again,” he grunts as you gasp out from the sudden increase in pace.

“jjunie,” you keen immediately, gripping the sheets, gripping his arms, gripping anything as a muttered curse leaves his lips and his thumb circles faster around your aching clit.

“love it when you say my name, fuck,” he groans, hips slamming into yours and jolting you like a ragdoll as you cry out for him, the knot in your stomach tightening so fast that you swear it’s about to snap, and when he leans forward with your leg still gripped over his shoulder and his cock pounding into you at a far deeper angle than before, fireworks fill your vision as you cum around him harder than you’ve ever came in your life.

“yes, yes, yes, fuck, that’s it, cream on my cock, baby, fuck you’re so- s-so tight, fuck- just like that, let go for me, baby, good girl-“

yeonjun’s voice sounds far away as you spasm around him, his thrusts growing sloppier as your cunt clenches him so tight that it nearly forces him out; he lowers your leg back down to the bed and slows down a little to let you catch your breath but he doesn’t stop, and your watery whimpers are like music to his ears as you clutch onto him desperately.

“t-too much, too much-!” you hiccup, tears spilling from your eyes at all the overwhelming sensations, but you don’t actually want him to stop and he knows it too — he coos at you, hand sliding up to rest on your throat again as he leans down and licks a stripe up your neck to your ear.

“you can give me one more, baby, can’t you?”

a shiver rolls down your spine at the devilish smile in his voice, sweet like honey as he catches your earlobe between his teeth.

“one more so daddy can stuff you nice and full.”

your pussy clenches. “w-want your cum,” you whimper dumbly in response, too fucked out to think of anything else, and yeonjun smiles as he leans back and runs his hands down your body until they reach your hips and squeeze.

“i know,” his thrusts are still steady as he watches you with twinkling eyes; “and i’m gonna give it to you.”

your eyes widen in protest as he suddenly slides out of you without a warning, but the words die in your throat and are replaced with a squeak of surprise when he flips you over onto your stomach instead.

“ass up for me, pretty girl.”

you obey immediately with what strength you have left in your shaky limbs, a quiet whine escaping your throat over not being able to see or touch him anymore.

his little laugh from behind you indicates that he caught it.

“don’t worry, baby,” he soothes as his hands massage over your ass, “we have all the time in the world.”

your heart doesn’t even have time to skip a beat at the promise of his words when suddenly his tongue is on your pussy, your knees nearly buckling at the heat of his mouth as he licks from your clit up to your fluttering hole, and you gasp as he spits on it before his cock enters you fully in one single thrust.

you cry out, knees buckling for real this time as he holds you up, sheets crumpled in your fists as his hips immediately pick up into a quick, dizzying pace.

“love the way you fall apart around me,” he murmurs from behind you, squeezing your ass, “love how you take me so well…”

you want to touch him so badly, want to see the pleasure pooling in his eyes; you don’t have time to respond before he lands a smack on your ass, your surprised squeak spurring him on as he does it again, drilling into your cute little hole like it was made just for him as he breathes out a moan.

from this angle he can see the way your pussy swallows him so hungrily, and his grip on your hips tightens as he drags you back and forth on his cock.

“love.. l-love your.. love this so much… w-wanna be yours…”

he almost misses your dazed mumbling over the loud sound of his hips slapping lewdly against your ass, but he makes out what you said, heart swelling in his chest and cock simultaneously twitching inside of you as he leans forward, his palm sliding up along your spine to brush the hair from your fucked-out face as he pushes your body down against the sheets, chest pressed to your back now and breath caressing your ear as he continues rocking his hips even deeper.

“you’re mine, baby, you’re mine..” he whispers between kisses along your jaw, a reassurance, your soft whimper of a response causing him to bite back a smile as he continues,

“i’ve wanted you for so long.. can’t believe i finally get to have you.” his hand slips beneath you to toy with your throbbing clit, and your ass grinds back against him as a result as you moan wantonly into his sheets.

“i’ve been yours since the.. fuck.. since the second i s-saw you..fuck, p-please don’t stop..!”

your hips are moving with his now as he works your clit faster, mustering your strength and pushing your weight back as you desperately try to fuck yourself on his cock, on his fingers, chasing the rising wave in your belly that’s threatening to break as he meets your quickening movements with his own.

“touch yourself for me, baby,” he murmurs in your ear before removing his hand and propping himself up on his forearms, allowing for a more concentrated angle as he ruts into you, your choked moan muffled by the sheets as you immediately slide one hand down to rub rapidly at your clit, your other one weakly moving to tangle your fingers with his the best that you can;

“gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whimper, drool pooling at your lips, the scent of yeonjun’s cologne and the weight of his body on yours like pure intoxication as he fucks you harder, breaths heavy and staggering in your ear as he grunts,

“cum for me, baby, need to feel it, cum all over my fucking cock-“

and when your third orgasm washes over you, you’re too weak to do anything but let it, body going limp as it wracks over you in pure bliss, the warm feeling of your clenching walls finally sending yeonjun over the edge this time as he shoots his cum into you with a loud and drawn-out moan, voice breaking as he spews filthy words and incoherent curses; he presses his hips impossibly deep against yours before stuttering into sloppy thrusts to fuck himself through the rest of his orgasm as your fluttering pussy milks his cock of every last drop.

the room grows silent save for your heavy breaths, both of your chests heaving as his forehead slumps down to rest against your back; you didn’t realize how tightly you were holding onto his hand until you carefully untangle your fingers from his.

he hisses from the sensitivity as he slides his twitching length out of you.

you look at yeonjun as he rolls off of your back and flops exhaustedly onto his side next to you, and when he meets your eyes, there’s only a passing moment of silence before you both giggle.

his smile is fond and blooming with affection as he rubs a hand up and down your back, moving to smoothe the hair from your face and gently brushing his knuckles across your cheek before resting his hand on top of yours.

“hi,” he whispers.

you giggle again.

“hi,” you whisper back.

“so.. would this be a good time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

your heart skips a beat and you bite back a smile. “i was worried you’d just want to stick to the sex..” you admit.

yeonjun shakes his head, lips forming into an endearing pout as he laces his fingers with yours.

“nah, you’re stuck with me now, princess,” he grins. “i meant what i said… i’ve been wanting you for so long.”

an indescribable feeling flutters in your chest as you giddily turn your head to bury your face in the sheets, yeonjun laughing as he shuffles closer, rolling you over onto your back despite your giggle-ridden, poorly-executed attempts to fight him off.

you grin up at him and he grins down at you, hovering over you now with a hand on your cheek as his endeared eyes trail over each of your features as if to memorize them.

“my girl,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you tilt your head up to meet his lips when he leans in and kisses you softly, your hands playing with the long hair at the nape of his neck.

“i meant what i said too,” you murmur against him.

“mine since the second you saw me, huh?” yeonjun’s cocky grin is light and teasing as you scrunch your nose at him, flicking his forehead and sending him into another pout.

“yeah, yeah. whatever, pretty boy.”

instead of responding he buries his face in your neck in a flurry of kisses as you squeal in surprise, laughing as you wiggle around underneath him;“stop, that tickles!”

“gotta make up for all the lost time when i didn’t make a move,” he reasons as his kisses move to your cheeks, your nose, your lips — you’ve never seen this side of yeonjun before, so soft and gentle and sweet; the fact that it seems reserved only for you sends butterflies fluttering through your tummy.

you spend your evening like that, wrapped in each other’s arms as you talk about your relationship, talk about the feelings that led you here, talk about this and that and everything in-between;

“does this count as our first date?” you ask quizzically. he wrinkles his nose.

“no way, i’m gonna do the most romantic shit ever for that.”

you snort. “isn’t that what this is?”

but you don’t have the chance to tease him any further when the beeping sound of his apartment passcode being entered causes you both to freeze.

you were so caught up that neither of you considered the time; nor the fact that yeonjun does indeed have 4 other roommates who would in fact be coming home at some point or another.

that some point apparently being now as the rowdy chatter of your friends erupts into the foyer until you suddenly hear soobin’s tipsy mumble. “what the… what are y/n’s shoes doing here?”

you and yeonjun turn to look at each other as your friends’ voices fall silent.

the seconds pass and you almost wonder if you’re in the clear…

but of course, no peace lasts forever with beomgyu in the house.

“OH MY GOD,” he screams.

“THEY FUCKED!”

[la-di-da-la-di-dee-die]

@wolfythewitch ‘s Gravity Fowls au has awoken a lost childhood memory of mine recently, specifically because their au is so similar to one of my favorite books when I was a kid: Fantastic Mr. Fox

Basic summary of the book: Three Evil Capitalist Farmers attempt to starve local anthro fox family who regularly steal their products (chickens, goose, duck, turkey, and apples/cider) via bio terrorism, failing miserably at every turn.

Now, you may be wondering, what the actual fuck does that have to do with Gravity Fowls? Well, a major part of the book is that the previously mentioned anthro-fox family has been forced underground by previously mentioned Evil Capitalist Farmers, and so Mr. Fox (the mc) has to devise a fool proof method of getting his family food: tunneling farther underground toward the Evil Capitalist Farms and stealing their produce that way instead of the regular way. I don’t know why, but that just sounds like something Bill would do? Like it just fits his vibes.

So, I just had to draw Bill in Mr. Fox’s outfit!

Isn’t he just so handsome? I also drew one other fanart, and some quick context for this next one:

The Evil Capitalist Farmers also accidentally drive the other wildlife into hiding with their bio-terrorism, which are also anthropomorphic (note: all the animals are anthro, but not the chickens or other produce? Probably too dark for a kids book idk). The other animals blame Mr. Fox for being a fucking sneak, and Mr. Fox is like, woah guys! Don’t worry, I’ve fixed everything, I’ve got an infinite food glitch! We just use these tunnels me and the fam have dug to steal more food! I even got some carrots for the vegetarians! And the other animals are like, alright seems legit.

Why all this context? Because I drew Bill’s henchmaniac crew as origami animals based off the other animals from Fantastic Mr. Fox:

I imagine they still live in the nightmare dimension, but they just origami now. btw all the animals in the book have names like Mr. Weasel, and Mr. Mole, with wife and kids too, which is wild to me. Except Mr. Rat. He’s an aweful disgusting thief (which, who in this book isn’t??) whose constantly getting drunk off Cider (which, again, who tf in this book isn’t?? Even one of the anthro-kids gets drunk at some point??)

But I didn’t just make fanart that catered to me and only me, I also made this:

I had this thought of, what if during weirdmagedon, instead of just getting a 3D form, Bill turns into an actual fox, not just an origami one? So that’s where this came from. Also it should be criminal how long it took me to draw Stanford! I spent so long on that fucking chicken.

Uhm, conclusion? Gravity Fowls is awesome, and respect to Wolfythewitch for being able to actually draw chickens consistently well, I only dream to be able to master that skill.

[fic-over-cannon]

thinking about a jason todd that’s in his late 30s. lines are just starting to etch themselves into the corners of his eyes and he’s got a hip that always pops when he rolls out of bed in the morning. he’s had a partner or two since his resurrection, each time promising forever and a day but never really making it there. he doesn’t look for serious anymore, grown up grown tired of always waiting on the back foot for someone that never sticks around. what’s the point of giving away his heart when it’s just going to get handed right back to him anyway? and that’s fine — he doesn’t hold it against any of them, he wouldn’t stick around for him either.

it’s frustrating then, to love him like you’ve never loved before and know he only sees you as a placeholder. the one he comes home to for now. he views himself as a season in your life, a moment that will pass and maybe you’ll remember this fondly if he doesn’t fuck up the ending too badly. you know he would accept you breaking your heart in two with tired eyes and a practiced smile, nothing but the best wishes for your future.

you tell him you love him and he accepts it with thanks and an unspoken for now. you tell him he’s it for you and he tells you sure kid, all nihilistic patronism that he’ll be seeing the back of you one day. it’s all youthful optimism and vigour to him, hasn’t stood the test of time or the first fight, the worst of an after patrol breakdown or the fear of a serious injury. you tell him you’ll always stay and he warns you that you don’t hafta make promises you won’t want to keep kid. he doesn’t understand that you want to mean it.

so you don’t promise him forever and a day. you promise him tomorrow. and tomorrow. and tomorrow. maybe one day he’ll believe you. maybe one day you won’t mean it. but the one thing you will not do is break his heart the way it’s been broken before.

might continue this if there’s interest

[ham1lton]

NASTY GIRL!

— pairings: oscar piastri x reader.

— faceclaim: rihanna <3

— summary: slut, whore, bitch - all the words that have been used to describe famous party girl yn yln. so when you show up to the grid with a shiny diamond ring on your hand, people are trying to figure out just who would choose you.

— warnings: misogynistic language and attitudes about yn’s behaviour and actions. not from any of the main characters in this au though!

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

enews: y/n may not be releasing new music anytime soon, but she’s definitely making waves—this time under the sea. the party girl was spotted scuba diving in italy with her usual mixed-gender crew, proving once again that vacationing is her real full-time job. 🎶 or should we say, lack of? #priorities #wherethemusicat?

view all comments

badgalyn: y’all stay on my dick 😭 hop off.

-> user1: LMFAOOOOOO

user2: can a girl not holiday now?

user3: idgaf if she’s partying. she’s been working since she was 16. have a mimosa for me babe <3

-> user4: bffr. she just sings into a mic for a living. that’s not a job.

-> user5: every job is a job. and every job has it’s downsides. she’s been touring every year since her debut almost ten years ago. let her breathe 😭

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by ynupdates, ferrarigirlies and 2,737,839 others.

f1gossip: look who’s in the ferrari garage today! the singer/songwriter yn on break from… well, her eternal break. and what is that we saw on her hot girl walk through the paddock? a diamond ring? oop 🙊

view all 277,828 comments

user1: LEAVE YN ALONE !1!1!1!111

user2: she’s engaged to charles and they’re gonna have the most gorgeous kids!!

-> user3: um… could be carlos?

-> user2: no 😜

user3: nahhhhh no way she’s engaged 😷

-> user4: like c’mon. it’s probably a rich ceo from behind the scenes. no self respecting f1 driver would want HER 😒

-> user5: like who would actually marry her?

-> user6: u sound so miserable 😭

-> user7: like what fucking weirdos LMFAO 😭 focus on yourselves.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by ynsgirlie, oscarspiastri and 1,108,890 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: singer/songwriter yn was invited by ferrari to watch the baku grand prix but was seen relaxing in the mclaren garage after a photo op. the moment went viral on social media, what do you think of yn’s disappearance ham1ltons?

view all 18,992 comments

user1: idgaf. she can do whatever she wants.

user2: she’s so fucking ungrateful my god.

user3: love her!!!!

user4: who cares?? i just wanna know who put that ring on her finger???

user5: RELEASE THE ALBUM @/BADGALYN

-> user6: RELEASE THAT SHIT NOWW

badgalyn: is it illegal for me to move from place to place now? like damn 😭

-> user7: they stay on ur ass like

-> user8: WHO DOES THAT BIG FAT RING BELONG TO ?!!?!!

-> user8: I KNOW U SEE THIS SHIT

-> user8: ANSWER ME 😭😭

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by landonorris, badgalyn and 1,090,123 others.

f1: oscar piastri is your ‘24 baku grand prix winner!

view all 80,828 comments

user1: OSCAR GIRLIES EVERYWHERE CHEERED

user2: YASSSSSSSS

user3: SO PROUD WOOOOOOO

user4: YN WHAT ARE U DOING HERE 😭

nicolepiastri: that’s my son btw 🍾🥂

user5: DID Y’ALL SEE YN RUNNING OUT TO KISS OSCAR?????

-> user6: WHAT?2&2&

-> user7: GIRL IT’S ALL OVER TWT

-> user7: https://twitter.com/ynsgirl/status/827373832992125

-> user8: oh… they in love frfr

-> user9: SICK OMG SICK SICK SICK

-> user9: HATE SEEING HAPPY COUPLES

-> user10: the way he carries her?? ims ick

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

INTERVIEW W/ YN YLN.

by james collins.

she walks into the room like she owns it, a diamond-studded one of a kind necklace hanging off her neck, and a confidence that can only come from being at the top of her game. y/n yln is more than just a household name at this point—she’s a cultural phenomenon. whether it's topping the charts, turning heads with her bold fashion choices, or making headlines for her unapologetic lifestyle, y/n is everywhere.

GQ: let’s get right into it. you’ve never been one to shy away from controversy. you've been called everything from a "party girl" to… well, a lot worse. how do you deal with the constant slut-shaming?

Y/N: (laughs) i mean, what can i say? people are gonna talk whether i’m out at the club or chilling at home in sweats. they see me having fun, and they can’t handle it. honestly, i don’t care. i love my life. if i want to party, i’ll party. if i want to make a million-dollar deal the next morning, i’ll do that too. being called a slut? whatever. it’s just a word. a word can’t hold me down.

GQ: that’s the attitude that’s made you so iconic. but it seems like the more successful you get, the more people try to tear you down. how do you stay grounded amidst all the noise?

Y/N: honestly, it’s all about knowing who you are. like, i know what i bring to the table. the opinions of strangers on the internet? they don’t pay my bills, they don’t run my career. i’ve got a solid circle around me—my family, my team, my people. they keep it real with me, and that’s what matters. plus, i’ve got my own inner voice. if i let every hater get to me, i wouldn’t be where i am now. you gotta block out the noise and keep doing you.

GQ: you’re definitely doing that, and it shows in your music. speaking of which, your last album broke records and you’ve hinted that the next one’s even more personal. what’s the inspiration behind it?

Y/N: oh, this next album is gonna hit different. it’s like a reflection of the last few years—everything i’ve been through, the highs, the lows, and the lessons. i’ve been writing a lot about love, discovery, identity, and power. there’s a track on there that’s straight-up about how people have tried to label me my whole life, and i’m just like, ‘f**k that, i define me.’ there’s some deep stuff in there, but also bangers that’ll make you wanna dance your ass off. it’s a mix, just like me.

GQ: there’s been a lot of talk about one specific song that fans think is about your alleged relationship. care to spill the tea on that?

YN: (smiling) oh, you mean *that* song? (laughs) yeah, people are good at picking up on things. look, i’m not saying too much, but let’s just say it’s a vibe. relationships—especially when you’re in the spotlight—are complicated, and i’m not afraid to write about it. but you’ll have to listen to the track to get the full story.

GQ: fair enough. now, let’s address the gorgeous and expensive elephant in the room—that ring. fans have been speculating non-stop about your engagement. can you confirm or deny the rumors?

Y/N: (grinning) ah, you’re nosy! but yeah, the ring’s real, and it’s from someone very special. look, i’ve never been one to hide anything, but i also love keeping certain things close to my chest. all i’m saying is… things are good. real good.

GQ: the internet’s been trying to piece it together, especially after you were spotted at the mclaren paddock with oscar piastri. any comments on that?

YN: (laughs) you are really trying to get me in trouble! look, i support my friends, i show up for them, and they show up for me. that’s all i’m saying for now. but if people want to talk, let them talk. i’m busy living my life.

GQ: fair enough! last question—what’s next for y/n yln?

Y/N: taking over the world, obviously. (laughs) but for real, the album is coming soon, and i’m working on some new projects that’ll surprise a lot of people. i’m not just a singer, i’m building an empire. music, fashion, business—it’s all on the horizon. so, buckle up, we’re just getting started.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

tagged: @/badgalyn

liked by ynswifey, ham1ltonshaderoom and 4,938,983 others

gqmagazine: from island girl to international superstar: our newest covergirl yn yln talks slutshaming, her upcoming album and wedding rumours in this months gq magazine. link in bio! 🔗

view all 2,737,938 comments

oscarpiastri: real good is an understatement 😉

-> user1: WHAT)2&/@/

-> user2: yn being all cryptic and oscar straight up like ‘yeah we together and what about it?’

-> user3: OSCAR HELLO?2&2

landonorris: am i invited to the wedding?

-> landonorris: hellloooo @/badgalyn????

-> landonorris: i’m sosoooooo drunk @/badgalyn

-> landonorris: YYYYYNNNNNNN 😭😭😭

user4: she’s such a bad bitch idgaf

-> user5: ‘i love my life. if i want to party, i’ll party. if i want to make a million-dollar deal the next morning, i’ll do that too. being called a slut? whatever. it’s just a word. a word can’t hold me down.’ — AS YOU SHOULD QUEEN!!!!

user6: y’all … oscaryn is growing on me fr

user7: this is so wattpad trope i love this for them

user8: YN RELEASE THE ALBUM!!!!

user9: MIC DROP FROM OSCAR YUP YUP!

user10: she’s so gorgeous… her face card omg

user11: Y/N YLN AND OSCAR FREAKING PIASTRI ARE ENGAGED AND CONFIRMED IT IN THE MOST CASUAL WAY?? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FUNCTION TODAY?!?!

user12: oscaryn engagement. yn6 being in the works. more pics of yn’s face card. ynnies, we won today.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

— oscar taglist: @papayadays @assholeinatrenchcoat @mxdi0 @lillysbigwilly @liberty-barnes @yelenasloverrrrr @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @mvk1ma @lozzamez3 @dear-fifi @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @styl1shl1v @whyamireadingthis @halleest @s4misbetter @llando4norris @chezmardybum @ivyvlair @isthatacandle @luvsforme @fabulouskk01 @littlegrapejuice @anotherblackreader @laur20a23 @greantii @sumlovesjude @sageispunk @mindless-rock @mehrmonga @ravisinghs-wife @six-call @notyaslol @1-800-love-me @nzygftoji @dilflover44 @ilivbullyingjeongin (all works taglist in comments/reblog. if you see yourself tagged and you don’t want to be or you don’t see yourself tagged and you want to be — refill out the taglist in my pinned post! <3)

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

[hanbinics]

!husband matt hates when another man flirts with his wife.

matt’s waiting for you in the car while you flirt with another man.

he’s noticed it happening before at a few other drop-offs and pick-ups. it’s the same guy every time, his hair sort of messy in a way that he thinks is an attempt at trying to maintain a younger image and his smile far too wide to be considered just kind instead of a little creepy too. matt knows you’d never cheat on him, especially not with this idiot—but that doesn’t mean you won’t toy with him.

his blue eyes are glued to the way you toss your hair over one shoulder, exposing more of the soft skin of your neck as you laugh at whatever stupid fucking thing this stranger has just said to you. he’s sure it isn’t that humorous—and you confirm that when he catches you glancing over your shoulder towards your family car—but it’s enough to have matt gripping the handle of his door to push it open and climb out of his seat regardless.

usually, he doesn’t bother leaving the quiet of the vehicle if he doesn’t have to. he’s never really been all that social, so standing around and listening to other parents chat animatedly about their snot-nosed kids and what amazing things they’re doing at such a young age doesn’t really interest him; it’s probably why you’re so confused when you feel the brush of his long fingers wrapping around your hip.

only, you’re not that surprised. in fact, you can’t help the subtle twitch of a smirk on your mouth when you feel him behind you. you vaguely wonder what set him off—the other man before you eyeing your breasts in the little floral dress you’re wearing, or maybe the way he’s been shifting a little closer to you the longer your conversation goes on. either way, you feel a gentle thrill in the pit of your stomach when you feel your husband brush against your backside.

you don’t have to turn to know it’s him. you can feel it in the brazen way he grips either of your hips, can see it in the way jackson’s eyes widen the slightest bit at the sight of the man behind you. you have to suppress a smile, knowing exactly how your husband must look in the moment—smug, you’re sure. perhaps a little intimidating with those intense blue eyes you adore so much.

head cocked to the side, you raise a brow. “you were saying?” you all but hum in encouragement to the other man, waiting patiently for him to continue despite the silent interruption behind you, fingers digging so snugly into your plush hips.

jackson looks from matt to you, almost like he can’t believe you’re putting him on the spot here. but you feign innocence, furrowing your brow gently as if to say we were only talking about our children, right? it’s the guise he’d approached you under, so backing off now would only allude to ulterior motives, and he isn’t about to do that with the fucking doberman behind you.

an uncomfortable laugh bubbles up from his throat, but it’s cut short when neither of you reciprocate. “no, i was just, ah—” he pauses, an awkward smile on his face as he searches for a safety net. finally, he comes up with one. “i was just saying that it might be nice for our daughters to have a play date some time.”

you can’t help but smile in spite of yourself, a little impressed with his commitment to the act. matt, on the other hand, cocks one eyebrow just as you part your lips to insist that it could be a nice idea.

“which kid is yours?” he asks from behind you, watching as jackon’s face settles into something a little more relieved at your husband’s sudden interest, like maybe he’s gotten off the hook.

“just over there.” the other man points, all eyes shifting to the opening doors of the building your daughter attends dance classes at. “that’s my little willow.” he smiles proudly as you all watch the little girls begin to file out with their instructor, hearing sweet giggles and excited exclaims for their mommies and daddies fill the air.

“huh,” matt huffs shortly, watching as you turn your head slightly to catch his eye, “was she not the one with the biting problem?”

jackson’s eyes widen slightly at the blatant call-out, his face reddening with anger or maybe embarrassment—you aren’t entirely sure. either way, your husband simply hums low in his throat when everybody seems to be at a loss for words, taking that as his response. he doesn’t wait any longer, instead delivering one last firm squeeze to your hip in a silent end to the conversation just as your daughter is barreling towards the both of you, arms spread wide and an excited grin on her face at the sight of her parents.

“there’s daddy’s girl,” matt greets your little one, bending down low to the ground so that he can scoop the excited little bundle into his arms, resting her on his hip as you listen to him ask her about her day while heading back to the car.

you’re thoroughly amused by his ending to the situation. you listen to the brunette hold an animated conversation with your daughter during the drive home, blue eyes bright and engaged with the little life in the backseat, but you know he hasn’t let you off the hook. it’s clear in the way he glances over at you every so often, gaze dropping from your pretty features to the bare skin of your thighs. thinking about the fact that another man had probably checked out all the same things makes a muscle in his jaw twitch.

when you get home, he still doesn’t immediately say anything to you. as soon as your little family is bursting through the front door, you’re promising your daughter an after-school snack and listening to matt insist that she show him a backpack that doesn’t include homework before she’s allowed to go play. the fact that he still hasn’t said anything about what happened allows this anxious feeling to creep into your body, but it’s not entirely unpleasant—it’s almost thrilling.

still, it doesn’t compare to the feeling of matt’s lips on your neck, hands braced on either side of the kitchen counter you’re currently caged in against, the hand that had been pouring a glass of tea suddenly shaking slightly with your new position. almost immediately, you tilt your head to the side, allowing him more access to the skin there.

“knew you wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer,” you quip, a small smirk on your lips as you set the teapot down, your drink long forgotten.

your husband nips at your skin spitefully. “how could i? seems like my wife needs a reminder about who she belongs to after letting that guy eye-fuck you back there.” his mouth is growing greedier in its pursuit of your skin, and you’re pretty sure you can feel a purple bruise beginning to bloom across the area he’d just nipped at.

you pout at his accusation. “i wouldn’t say i let him,” you argue, but your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his teeth graze your skin again, one hand abandoning the granite countertop to roam your thighs instead.

you decide to push your luck. “besides, looking never hurt anyone...”

matt snarls against you, nose brushing along your neck as he uses his free hand to slide up your torso until he reaches the soft flesh of your chest, squeezing your left breast in his large hand and eliciting a quiet gasp from your mouth.

“yeah?” he breathes into your hair, the hand that’s been brushing along your inner thighs suddenly moving higher, taking the fabric of your dress along with it. “what was his name again? jackson?” he asks tauntingly, daring you to confirm his question.

you want to say something snarky in return, maybe tease him and say you don’t remember, but any coherent thoughts leave your brain the minute that your husband gathers the fabric of your panties in his hand, creating a thinner band of it nestled between your lips before he’s pushing it to the side entirely, his middle finger teasing your slit.

“tell me, sweetheart,” matt hums into your ear, his crotch pressed into your ass as he toys with your slick cunt, “do you think about jackson’s fingers in your pussy?”

as if to accentuate his question, he dips two wet fingers into your awaiting hole, eagerly swallowing the digits as your mouth falls open at the sudden pleasure, stomach jumping into your throat. he doesn’t even allow you the chance to respond, adding to the stimulation by teasing your puffy nipple with his other hand after pulling your dress down enough to expose your cleavage.

suddenly matt pulls his fingers from you, delivering a wet slap to your sensitive pussy that has you yelping in surprise. “answer me.”

“no—no, i don’t, baby,” you ramble, shaking your head fervently. “only think about you inside me, only you.” you can’t help the way you press your ass back against him, trying to find some friction there and offer a little bit to the growing bulge you can feel in his pants, but matt is quick to release your chest in favor of delivering a quick slap to your ass in retaliation.

“don’t get fuckin’ greedy,” he reprimands you, although he does ease two fingers back into you, groaning softly at the way you suck him in almost immediately.

you moan at the feeling of him inside you once again, your knees nearly buckling at the way he begins to fuck you with his fingers. “matt,” you gasp, your tone bordering on pleading now, “need your cock, baby, not just your fingers.”

but the brunette simply snorts despite the labored breaths he’s panting near your ear. “yeah? think you deserve it, huh?” he sneers at you, hips grinding into your ass he uses you to ease a bit of the tension there. “well i think you should probably be a little more apologetic for bein’ a fuckin’ attention-seeking brat if you want my dick, sweetheart.”

your instinct is to frown at his name-calling, but it’d simply be for show. you love the cruel edge to his voice, and he knows it. on top of it, you can’t form the correct words when you feel his fingers plowing your greedy cunt, sucking him in so eagerly as he angles his wrist so that his calloused palm is pressing into your clit, grinding into the swollen nub. the combination of the two is so overwhelming that you can feel this intense, tight knot growing in your abdomen, like you might just burst at the seams, and you’re quick to let him know.

“oh—fuck, baby please slow down,” you cry out as quietly as you can to him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “’m gonna come, matt, please.” but as soon as you plead your case, everything stops.

your knees seem to give out as soon as matt pulls his fingers from your pussy with an embarrassingly wet sound effect, your body all but collapsing against the counter to support your trembling figure. your breathing is labored as you try to come to terms with what happened, as you try to collect yourself, only then realizing the fact that matt has just fucking edged you.

you feel the brunette’s lips brush over the bare skin of your shoulder just before he’s pulling away from you, your eyes wide with bewilderment as you watch him retreat. you can hear your daughter calling for her daddy from her bedroom, insisting that he come play with her, and you can only watch as your husband sticks two long fingers in his mouth—the same fingers that had just been inside you—and sucks them clean of your arousal like he’s just finished the last of his favorite fucking dessert.

“’m comin’, baby,” matt calls out to your daughter, already beginning to walk out of the kitchen.

the walls of your pussy are still fluttering now that there’s a void where his fingers just were, and you feel like you’re damn near on the brink of tears from your orgasm denial. but as you watch him disappear around the corner, your heart flips in your chest at his next words, your selfish cunt throbbing gently.

“hey princess, what do you think about going to visit grandma and grandpa tonight?”

©hanbinics

: ̗̀➛ tag list: @blahbel668

: ̗̀➛ divider by @/rookthornesartistry

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

just a thought !! but what do u think ‘suki would do if he accidentally hurt reader ? like an elbow to the nose or smth , bc i kid u not that happened with my bf today and he would not leave until i told him i was fine 😭 js thought that katsu wld be an internal emotion wreck ??!

wait i love this omg😭😭tysm for the ask anon this is so cute, your boyfriend sounds like a sweetheart !

your nose stings.

you don’t really know how it happened, but you ended up getting decked in the nose by your boyfriend. accidentally, of course, said boyfriend would rip his own nails of before even thinking of hurting you. however, said boyfriend was also built out of fucking marble.

so it wouldn’t be surprising to say your nose hurt like a bitch.

“ow, ow, ow !” you whine, katsuki channels through confusion, realization and utter fear in about a millisecond. his hands smack against your face.

“holy—shit ! what the fuck’re y’doin’ ?!” his eyes scan all over your face like he’d shot you, and it honestly almost felt like he did. his hands grip at your cheeks. you wince when he presses his thumb to your nose. “ow—i was jus’ g’nna surprise you—ouch, katsuki !”

you pull your face out of his grip but he pulls you back, “stop squirmin’ an’ let me see.” he mumbles quietly, eyebrows furrowed hard. in focus or anger or worry but probably a mix of all three if you knew anything about him.

“holy fuck, why were you sneakin’ around like that, dummy..” you want to roll your eyes about him still trying to scold you, but the tone of his voice is different then when he usually does. he does sound genuinely worried so you want to reassure him.

“i was just trying to say hello.” you reiterate. “suki, i’m fine. it’s already starting to hurt less.” he ignores you and continues to inspect your face.

“nothin’ broken..” he mumbles to himself, thumbing at your nose a bit softer this time. you manage a snort.

“of course not, jesus, katsuki—”

“you’re okay, yeah ?”

“yes !” you giggle, gripping at his wrists. he pouts, studying your face. “it’s already starting to hurt less.”

he frowns even harder “i elbowed the shit outta you.”

“by accident.” you correct, “katsuki, it’s fine.”

“..you’re sure.”

“i’m sure.” you nod, smiling at him to reinforce your point. he squints, then sighs loudly. leaning in to kiss the bridge of your nose, copying the get better kisses you jokingly give him that he always scoffs at but insist you give him without fault. it hurts a bit, but you feel giddy anyway, your smile grows wider.

“don’t sneak up on me like that again, dummy.” he insists “i mean it.”

you cross your fingers together “promise.” you hum, he scoffs, you don’t think he can muster up a roll of his eyes right now since he can’t seem to be able of taking them away from you. he runs his thumb over your forehead.

“if it starts hurting or something, you tell me.”

“katsuki !” you groan, laughing. katsuki doesn’t look amused. not at all.

he growls “oi, i mean it.”

“i got it, i told you i am fine. you’re okay.” it seems that was the reassurance he needed. that you weren’t mad at him to boot. he exhales, shoulders dropping the slightest bit.

“…...you’re positive ?”

“katsuki, i swear to god—”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Don’t Mess with My Girl

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You come home from work and you make the mistake of telling Bucky that a guy has been harassing you at work.

Warning: harassment from a male coworker

A/N: the snippets of Bucky in the Thunderbolts trailer have ignited my love for him again omfg.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky's already home when you arrive from work. You let out an exhausted sigh as you place your things on the kitchen island and kiss Bucky's cheek, "Hi, lovey."

He hums and looks at your slumped figure, "What's wrong?" he asks with furrowed brows, concern written all over his face.

"Just a rough day at work," you reply, opening up the dishwasher to grab a cup and snort as you see Bucky's metal prosthetic resting inside.

You turn back to him, "Explain," you say pointing at his arm.

He gives a sheepish grin and shrugs, "Today was a bit messy, is all." You chuckle and roll your eyes. You grab a cup from the top rack of the dishwasher and grab Bucky's arm, laying it on the counter.

"What happened today?" you ask as you fill your cup with water from the fridge.

Bucky shakes his head, "Nope. I asked you a question first," he walks over to you and cups your face with his right hand, "What's made my girl all upset?"

You groan, "A new hire, Noah. He's very...persistent."

"Persistent how?"

You shrug, "He just keeps asking me out, getting a little too close-"

"Fire him," Bucky immediately says.

You groan, "But he's a good employee!"

"Doesn't matter if he keeps harassing you."

"I wouldn't say he's harassing me..."

Bucky cocks a brow and places his hand on his hip in a very intimidating manner, "Does he get aggressive when you reject him?"

"...yes."

"Is he constantly berating you and not taking no for an answer?"

"...yeah."

"Does he scare you?"

"A little bit."

"Baby, that's harassment," he says as he walks over to his metal arm, placing it onto the notch and locking it in. He looks down and flexes his arm, "I can take care of him for you, easily. The fellas and I can grab him and-"

You immediately wave your hands and shake your head, "No, no, no. No! Don't hurt him! I'll-I'll handle it. I'll talk to Joan and let her know what's been going on."

"Good and if that doesn't stop him then, I'll pay him a visit," you give him a playful shove and he chuckles, "What? No one messes with my girl and gets away with it!"

____________________________

As soon as you got into the bookshop the next day, you immediately tell Joan of Noah's behavior. When he comes in, Joan pulled him aside to talk to him. You thought that everything would be good after that...but you were wrong.

When you were in the back, putting books away, Noah corners you, "Did you really have to tell Joan our business?"

You can't help but scoff at his audacity, "Well you wouldn't stop asking me out after I said no and reminding you that I have a boyfriend."

It's Noah's turn to scoff, "Oh yeah, your boyfriend," he says with air quotes, "You say you have one but you don't have him as your lockscreen and you haven't showed any pictures of him."

"He's a private person, but that's not the point! I told you 'no'! You should've stopped after that."

Noah rolls his eyes, "Oh just because someone says 'no', doesn't mean they mean it! Means they want you to try harder."

"Actually, it just means 'no' and you fuck off," a deep voice cuts in-between the confrontation between you and Noah.

Both of you turn to see Bucky standing there with a hard glare on his face.

You gulp, "Bucky, what're you doing here?"

He holds up your lunch bag, "You forgot your lunch at home," he holds it out and you rush over to him, grabbing the bag and remaining at his side.

Noah looks at Bucky with wide eyes and then at you. His face loses color as he realizes, "W-Wait, you-you're dating the White Wolf of Brooklyn?"

Bucky smirks at his nickname, "Yeah, she is. And my girl told me you wouldn't leave her alone. Sounds like even with your job on the line, you still don't seem to get the hint." He slips off his blazer, handing it off to Steve. He then starts rolling up the sleeve of his metal arm, the dim lighting of the book shop reflecting off its metal plates.

"I can definitely figure out a way to get the message through to you."

Noah stutters out a response, "N-No. Th-That's not necessary, s-sir. I-I won't bother, Y/N again, I promise."

Bucky hums, "If I see or hear you harassing my girl or anyone else, I'll make sure your body will never be found again. Scum like you don't deserve second chances, but I'm feeling a little gracious today."

Noah nods, "Thank you. I-I won't behave like that ever again."

"Good. Now apologize to Y/N," he nods to you.

Noah gulps and stutters out an apology. You simply reply with a nod and Noah scurries away.

You let out a deep breath that you didn't know you were holding. You look at Bucky, "Thanks."

He shrugs, "Anyone gives you a problem, they have to go through me," he mumbles pecking your lips.

"Y/N, do you know why Noah suddenly qui-ah," Joan turns the corner to see you and Bucky. The older woman puts her hands on her hips and gives Bucky a scolding look, "Barnes, what did you do?"

Bucky shrugs, "Just gave him a warning, ma'am. He shouldn't have been treatin' my girl like that!"

"Very true, but you know I don't condone violence in my shop."

He holds his hands up, "No violence happened, ma'am. Just a little threatenin'." Joan looks to you for confirmation and you nod.

She sighs, "Very well. Guess I need to look for another employee again."

An idea came to mind, "Actually, I know someone!"

______________

"Seriously, Y/N, I owe you one for this!" the young brunette exclaims as he follows you with a box of books in his arms.

You chuckle, "It's no problem, Peter. Besides, we both get something out of this. You're doing a much safer job like your Aunt May and Tony wanted and you get to keep an eye on me for Bucky. It's a win-win situation."

The bell above the shop's door rings and Peter immediately places the box of books down, "I got it!" he rushes to the front, "Hi, welcome to-oh! Y/N!" Peter's voice echoes through the store.

You shelf a book and head to the front, "Yeah?" you break out into a smile as you see Bucky there.

"Hey!" you approach him, giving a little wave to Steve, who stands behind him. Steve waves back, but says nothing else. You wrap your arms around Bucky and peck his lips, "What's up?"

"Had a meeting at Wanda's shop, brought some pastries for you, Joan, and the kid," he hands over the maroon pastry box with Wanda's logo on it.

"Yay! Here, Peter," you hand it off to the young man and he jaw drops, "Oh, sweet! Thanks, Mr. Barnes!" and he heads into the back to share the pastries with Joan.

Bucky places his hands on your waist, "How's he doin'?"

You chuckle, "Fine. He's very enthusiastic and a hard worker. Plus, he doesn't hit on me because he's in love with MJ."

Bucky's brows shoot up in surprise, "Jones' kid? Pft. Good luck, Parker."

You giggle and then back away, "Alright, big mob boss, I need to get back to work."

"Fine. But seriously though, you feel better? Safer?"

You nod, "I do. Thank you," you kiss his cheek and he softens, "Like I said, no one messes with my girl," he gives you a wink and wave as he exits the book shop.

[papaya-twinks]

I just had an idea of Lando and his gf welcoming Franco to the F1 or celebrating his first points with threesome

warm welcome - l.n + f.c

Warnings: Smut, 18+, threesome, gentle!sex, blowjob

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader x Franco Colapinto

“Hey man,” Lando said, clapping Franco on the back as he caught with the Argentinian driver after the race. “Told you that you’d do amazing,” Lando said with a grin as Franco smiled back. “Cheers,” he said, as Lando nodded to him.

“What about you come over to my place for drinks in a bit?” Lando smiled as Franco shrugged. “Sure,” he said with a warm smile, leaving Lando to go get out of his sweaty race suit. “Hey man,” Lando smiled, seeing Franco at his door.

Both men were now in comfy, clean joggers and hoodies as they stepped into the apartment. “My girlfriend wanted to meet you,” Lando said, handing Franco a glass of red wine. “What’s this for?” Franco asked. “To celebrate,” Lando smirked, watching as you walked into the room.

In nothing but a little, fluffy white robe.

“If you don’t want this to continue, tell me now,” Lando said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper as he pulled you onto his lap. “I’m okay with it,” Franco said, voice hitched as Lando lifted you onto Franco’s lap.

With a nod from Lando, you undid your robe, letting it fall to the floor to reveal your little blue lingerie set, just like Franco’s Williams car, sliding one of your hands under the waistband of his joggers. “Fuck,” he gasped, your hand pumping his cock slowly.

“Feel good?” you asked, moving to sink down on his cock as Lando stood behind Franco and the sofa, his hand on the back of your head to bring your lips round his cock. “Fuck,” Lando cursed, smirking as he watched you slowly grind down on Franco.

“God,” Franco watched you in awe as you rode him, your hips sinking and falling on his hard member, “c-can I touch her?” he asked, hands paused, just about to touch your breasts. “You’re balls deep in her,” Lando smirked, “obviously you can touch her,”.

Franco let out a little strangled laugh as Lando rocked his hips in and out of your mouth. Safe to say you were well practised with sucking dick. You could feeling your orgasm build up as Lando worked on ruining your mouth, Franco’s hips bucking into yours, his cum shooting down your thighs.

“God, look at you,” Lando said, the words not degrading, simply appraisal of how gorgeous you looked, riding Franco with your lips round Lando’s cock. Wow. There would be a lot more positions tonight, then.

A/N - so silly

[veltana]

Breaking point

✦ Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~2,5k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Dub-con (proceed with caution if this might trigger you), pwp, smut and a bit of fluff at the end, possessive/protective!bucky, degredation (slut, fuck doll, cum-bucket), grinding, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, pet name (sweetheart).

✦ Summary: Bucky is done with you going out with losers.

✦ Note: This used to be called I will kill them if they touch you but I never liked that title so I renamed it! Also, you guys didn't know what you were voting for, but it was the banner for this story! Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome 💚

Masterlist | AO3

"Please don't scare this one away as you did last time," you beg and look at Bucky's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He makes a face where he's leaning against the door frame behind you and then sighs when you give him a look. "He wasn't worth shit if he didn't wanna fight for you," he points out.

Now it's your turn to sigh and you cross your arms, glaring at him. "He isn't supposed to fight for me on a first date. We're supposed to have a good time and hopefully fuck." Bucky's mouth hardens, and he looks away. He doesn’t like that, at all.

Ever since you became roommates he's been very protective of you, helping you with the smallest things, driving you everywhere you need to go, even if you can drive yourself. Sometimes it's overbearing but most of the time it's nice to have someone care for you like that.

Unfortunately, recently he's picked up a habit of intimidating the people you go on dates with. He stands behind you when they come to pick you up, and his large frame and cold stare make many of them cower. A few have turned around right away, others have asked if that's your boyfriend or something, thinking it was some type of open relationship/cuckold situation.

"Don't say shit like that," Bucky says through gritted teeth. "I don't wanna think about you fucking other people." You can't help the teasing smile that cracks your face. "Makes you jealous?" With a huff, Bucky pushes off and leaves you to continue.

Two hours later your makeup is done and your hair fixed to perfection. You sit on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, with a glass of wine, waiting until the last minute to put on the skin-tight dress. While scrolling on your phone, Bucky sits beside you with a beer. "So where's the loser taking you?" "Don't care,” you shrug. “Honestly, my priority tonight is to get laid. The previous ones were a little too… bland. But he seems promising." "What do you mean, bland?"

Putting your phone down you look at him, "You don't wanna hear this anyway, you'll just get mad," you point out. "I don't get mad," he defends. "Pfff, you're such a liar, I can see it in your eyes whenever I mention another guy." "Because you deserve the best and all I've seen is trash."

Irritated, you put your glass down too. "Why don't you pick for me then? Who would James Bucky Barnes deem worthy of fucking me?"

The grip on his beer is so hard his knuckles whiten and his lips are a thin line. When he doesn't answer you lean back and start to count people off.

"Well, Steve seems a bit too sweet for my taste but I mean I would not mind trying a slice of that all-American beefcake," you muse. "Sam is so charming and funny! That quick tongue would probably work wonders, if you know what I mean," you wink and watch as Bucky's eye twitch, his jaw clenched hard.

"Tony," you continue. "Well, he seems a little self-absorbed but maybe he's a really selfless lover. Won't hurt to check!" "Loki is so handsome," you bite your lip. "I would surrender my body to him in a heartbeat! But I've heard that he leaves people high and dry and that would be awful."

Tilting your head, you say, "Do you think Thor and Jane would be up for a threesome? I can just imagine eating her out while he fucks me from behind and then we could-"

With a slam he puts the bottle on the table and grabs your face with his hand forcefully, silencing your tirade of words and squeezing your cheeks so that your lips pucker.

The grip is close to bruising and it's an instant pull in your lower stomach. His eyes are black with anger, something you've never seen directed at you before. "No one," he hisses. "Not one of them is fucking you, I will kill them if they touch you."

His hand releases you and grabs your neck instead. You're shocked, and instantly so horny it hurts. Opening your mouth to speak he squeezes harder, making a wheezing sound come out.

"I'll give you a chance to stop this. Tell me right now you don't want this and we'll act as if nothing happened. Otherwise, I'm fucking you into this couch until you can't remember your goddamn name." When he finishes his grip lightens. The rush of blood makes you euphoric and boneless. You want to give yourself to him, let him do whatever he wants. "Fuck me," you whisper.

The kiss is more teeth than lips and the hold around your throat hardens again. You try to keep up with him but it's impossible as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch, making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. You gasp for air as he pulls away, releasing you. His gaze is brimming with lust and want now, all signs of anger gone. Then he pushes you down onto the couch.

"You're a kinky little slut, aren't you sweetheart?" he mocks and leans in over you, spreading your legs with his. All you can do is nod and try to wiggle close so you can press your center against his clothed cock. It's clearly outlined in his sweatpants and you hope it's as big as it seems. "If I put my hand down your pants, are you gonna be wet for me?" "Yes Bucky," you whine.

The throbbing is almost unbearable and his smirk is downright sinful. "Come on, rub yourself on me, show me how much you want it." With another whine, you brace yourself against the couch and lift your hips. He doesn't move a muscle to help as you struggle to find the right position.

"That's disappointing," Bucky smacks his lips and frowns. "Thought you wanted this." "I do Bucky, I do, please I'm trying," you tell him desperately. With effort, you get into a good enough position to grind your cunt on his cock through the layers of clothing. It's not nearly enough to curb the ache.

"Useless," Bucky sighs and grabs your legs. "Do I have to do everything?" He pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you in half and pushing his cock right into your core.

"Sorry," you moan. His mean words have only made you needier and you move yourself against him with abandon. Bucky is motionless above you, not making a sound or saying a word, just staring at you chasing your high. Your movements turn unsteady when you start to come close.

If you were of sound mind you would notice the glint in his eyes but instead, you’re barreling towards your climax. Until he suddenly moves away.

Gawking you stare at him and he just smiles wickedly in return. "Take off your clothes, spread your legs" he instructs and you quickly pull your pants off and discard your t-shirt and underwear, spreading your legs as best you can on the couch. Bucky takes in your bare body, moving his hands slowly down your thighs until his palms frame your pussy.

"Fucking shaved for him too,” he notes with a snarl. You're not sure why that upset him. "Sorry!" you say, just to be safe.

"I don't need your hair curled, your make-up done or your whole body shaved. I will fuck you anyway, sweetheart, no matter what you look like because you belong to me," he growls before he spits on your cunt, sending a rush through you, making you moan and spread your legs even more.

For the first time, he touches you properly, letting his fingers spread the spit all over your pussy before shoving two of them into your soaked core. He pistons them in and out, putting his thumb against your clit and making colors burst before you.

"You want to come on my fingers, you fucking slut?" When you nod frantically he instructs, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." A second after you do spit lands on your tongue and droplets on your face. It nearly tips you over.

"Swallow it," he orders and watches you as you do, some form of approval shining in his eyes for the first time. "Who do you belong to?"

The question is too complicated to understand, you can't focus on what he wants. "I don't…" is all that comes out.

"Wrong answer," he says and removes his fingers, making you shout in disappointment. Sharp slaps land on your wet cunt and you instinctively try to move away from it, but he grabs your legs, pulling you back. "Don't you fucking run from me."

"I'm sorry," you cry, looking pleadingly at him. "I'm- I'm yours James, yours to do what you want with. Please, please, please let me come!"

With a huff he pushes his fingers back in, pressing the tips into your g-spot and getting his thumb back on your clit. His unbothered state makes you feel so small and insignificant, heightening the pleasure coursing through you.

As it climbs, your body shakes, your legs trembling from being held open. "I'm- I'm- don't stop!" you beg. Closing your eyes you focus on the feeling of him, his other hand still gripping your thigh hard. You hope it bruises.

"I can feel you, slut!" Bucky's voice is the cherry on top of everything. "Come on my fingers, do it, come for me!" he commands and of course, you do as he wants. With a scream you convulse, almost pushing him out with the sensation flooding you. Bucky is talking above you but you're not sure what he's saying because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears.

A hard tap against your cheek makes you open your eyes. "Don't pass out on me, I'm not done with you yet." "Wouldn't dream of it," you smile dumbly, and it earns you a smile in return. But it quickly passes as he pulls off his tank top and pushes down his pants. The cock is just as big as you hoped.

He rubs the head against your soaked center, sending overwhelming sparks through you, making you twitch. When he notches the head of his dick at your opening your blood freezes. "C-condom?" you stutter.

Cocking his head he asks. "Do you really want that? Doesn't a slut like you want to be filled up with cum?" "Y-yes, but, Bucky…" you gnaw your lip.

"I want to fuck my little cum-bucket raw, make sure you feel me running out of you for days," he gives a light thrust, almost pushing inside, giving you a taste of heaven. For a second you look at each other and Bucky presses in just a little bit more. It decides it for you. "Please fill me with your cum Bucky, I need it so bad!" you whine and he chuckles before shoving his fat cock into you without mercy.

Quickly you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting his hard thrusts that are sending your body into overdrive. "Feel so fucking good sweetheart, your cunt was made for me, wasn't it?" he groans. "Yes it was," you answer breathlessly.

He grabs your face. "Those other losers are never going to satisfy you." "No, Bucky, only you!" "That's right, you're my fuckdoll now, sweetheart," he says before he leans down to kiss you. It's much sweeter this time and you grab his head, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling your chest fill with another type of warmth.

When he pulls back he says, "Beg me not to come in you." Your cunt clenches and your second orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. "Bucky, please don't… I can't get pregnant," you make your voice small and frail.

In response his laugh is cruel. "Yes you will, your purpose in life is to be bred. I'm going to cum in you every day til it sticks and then everyone will know who you belong to." "Please, pull out," you beg and reach down to rub your clit, feeling the climax shimmering underneath your skin.

"Such a bad liar, sweetheart," he chuckles. "Are you going to come on my cock? Are you gonna claim me just as I claim you?" "Yes! I just need- harder!" you pant. "Fucking hell," Bucky grunts and does as you demand.

The climax rips through you with little regard for your sanity. The sound leaving your throat makes it raw and a second later Bucky moans your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It's almost good enough to feel him finish inside you that you come again, but you’re too spent to do more than shudder.

Then he kisses you again, sweetly, caringly, and pushes his arms in under your body to hug you close to him. "So perfect," he whispers against your mouth. The cums start to trickle out onto the couch but neither of you care, too caught up in each other's lips.

"How are you doing sweetheart?" he asks when he comes up for a breath. "I feel a little high," you confess. "Haven't been fucked that good in a long time."

There is something in his gaze that shifts and he leans his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I just… I couldn't take it anymore… I like you so much." "Lucky for you I get off on that stuff," you smile. "And if I had said stop I trust you would have."

He hugs you so hard you can hardly breathe. "Of course, I fucking would." "You can make it up to me by going tender the next time," you smile. "Next time?" "As many times as you’ll have me." He laughs into your skin. "I don't think you're ready for that!"

Suddenly the sound of the doorbell jerks the two of you apart. You stare at Bucky with wide eyes. "My date," you whisper, horrified.

With a smirk, he raises himself on his arms. "I should make you go on that date with my cum running out of you, maybe even let him get as far as spreading your legs just to see that you’re already claimed."

With a groan, you cover your face with your hands. "Don't tempt me," you tell him before wiggling out from under him, finding your clothes, and hastily pulling them on.

Opening the door just a crack, you understand you look a mess by the way your date eyes you. "Sorry," your voice is small. "I wasn't feeling great and then I fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah, you look terrible," the guy notes before handing you one of the ugliest bouquets you've ever seen. Quickly stepping away he says, "I'll call you." but you know he won't. "Great, I'll see you around," you respond before closing the door.

Bucky takes the flowers from you and shoves them in the trash before grabbing you around the waist and kissing you again. "Didn't you say he was promising?" "I have no clue what you're talking about," you answer with a completely straight face but then start to giggle as he swoops you up and carries you to his bedroom.

[aajjks]

love daze (m)

synopsis. no one in this world can fuck you better than him.

warnings: smüt, 18+ èxplïcït cöntènt, ǔnprôtěctèd sèx, ovèrstïmülâtïon, súb!kòó, brèèdïng kïnk, yândèrè dárk thêmès, rôúgh sèx, päïn kínk. Nöönà kïnk. MDNI

note. I don’t even know why I wrote this but I guess you guys deserve this because you guys are the best followers in the world and I love you guys so much. I hope you will enjoy this and maybe send asks. I think at this point…. Noona is borderline yandere for him as well. ENJOY AND PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SHARE YOUR FEEDBACK. IT REALLY KEEPS ME GOING..

“O-Oh fuck noona I’m gonna cum ahh” he moans loudly as you feel him twitching inside you, His cock feels so good buried deep inside you.

Oh you love your boy so much.

He makes you feel so good, makes you feel like the most desirable woman in the world, his love makes you feel complete. Especially when he’s so desperate? Jungkook is a different man.

Everything about him changes and every emotion inside his brain, body and heart intensifies. You’ve been together for so many years and you never thought that you would fall in love so deeply with him.

Someone so scarred like him, you know that he thinks of you as an angel, but you’re not less flawed than him, there are some scars in your heart that he can never see.

Some scars may heal on your body with time, but never in your heart-and your past relationships have given you some deep deep scars, right on your heart

Your heart Which is now in jungkooks warm, gentle hands.

“Oh fuck koo- you make me feel so fucking good ugh.” you know he’s intense.

You have fallen from grace, right into the deepest pits of Hell where the most fucked up sinners reside but he’s by your side and he lights up every single corner of your hell like it’s heaven.

And you know that he’s always gonna be with you. Because you know why? This man cannot live without you.

You hold such power over him that- you have become the reason for his ruin.

The thing is that he’s your light and you’re his darkness, you are a darkness that he never wants to escape.

You moan out in pleasure as he thrusts inside you for the nth time.

Jungkooks pace is merciless, rough and fast. He’s fucking you like a sex crazed man, and you love that about him because no part of your body is ever left unsatisfied or unloved by him.

It’s almost like he triggers the heat inside you and you’re a human being, “nghh fuck yn- ugh yeah.. only I can..” he groans, his lips finding your neck and he bites on your bruises marked flesh hard.

It doesn’t hurt, it feels so fucking good, he is marking you and you feel like you belong to someone, And to belong to someone, it’s the best feeling in the world.

Especially when it’s him.

You are not alone anymore, you are not abandoned anymore, you belong to Jungkook in every single way possible.

He begins to whisper dirty lewd words into your ear, egging you on, leaving you on the verge of an edge.

You’re so close to cumming.

at this point your body hurts, you’re overstimulated, absolutely fucked out- but you can’t get enough- And you don’t want him to stop or get enough of you.

“Oh fuck mhmm I cannot get enough of you noona- ugh.” it is like he can Read your mind, it’s like he can dive into the darkest most explicit fantasies, buried deep inside your brain.

He knows exactly what to tell you, he lives in your heart of course he will know what you want to hear because your heart tells him everything.

“Oh baby please don’t fucking stop.” He’s like your stress reliever, Jungkook whimpers in your neck as he buries his head in the nape of your sweaty neck.

His breath is hot, tickling your skin, your walls flutter around him and he moans.

Jungkook is still fucking you with a burning passion, his head finally rises up from your neck and he pulls you into a deep sloppy searing kiss.

His teeth nibble on the flush meat of your swollen lips, his kisses are like oxygen to you.

You kiss him back, your nails scratching his back, you’re pretty sure he’s bleeding, because he moans into your mouth, you pull him in closer to your naked body.

You never want to let him go.

And the best part is about this is that he doesn’t want you to let him go.

You are pretty sure that if you try to let him go, he will actually kill you.

Of course, you know what your boyfriend is capable of.

“‘M gonna cum please oh..” you break the kiss and soon he confesses, you mewl, looking at him with your lustful eyes.

“Cum deep inside me. Knock me up.” You whisper in his ear and as soon as you say those words, you can see goosebumps appear on his flawless skin. He growls looking at you, something in his eyes darken, he actually looks animalistic now.

He is now in a different habitat. Which is really rare.

“Fuck- breed…” he whimpers, and just like that- the bed actually starts to shake, hitting against the wall as your moans fill the room.

This is what you love the most about him, his always burning passion for you. Honestly, it’s astonishing how someone is capable of loving someone so much like this.

It is astonishing that is he is capable of loving you so much like this.

“I love you so much. I love you so much…” and that’s all it takes for you to cream around his dick soon, your orgasm hits you like a brick- he cries out at the feeling of your arousal all over him and he kisses your face.

“such a good girl for me- ‘m so proud of you.” He cries out.

“Now cum for me koo…”

And before you can even recover from your own high, you feel him cum inside you, it’s euphoric with the way he fills you up completely.

The nature of your relationship goes from a 0 to 100 real quick and sometimes from extra sweet to fucking spicy.

And you wouldn’t want it another way

And just like that, you both hold each other so close so intimately, so in love and so satisfied, so fulfilled.

[puppyplayhouse]

Step brother Hyunjin things

Warnings: puppy reader, degradation, blackmail, choking at some point, dub con, kissing.

Lil headcanon of mean step bro Hyunjin (who maybe is possessive) being a dick (it's so delicious tho)

Has known you since you were both little because your parents were family friends before their respective divorces, so he knows every button to push.

Constantly using Dad against you. It's a core part of his blackmail, really. Every time you're a little less than compliant, he pulls up one of the thousands of pictures he's taken of you during your times together and asks what you think Dad would have to say about it.

Calls you puppy when people are around just to get you flustered. He's amazing at playing it off so that nobody questions it because well, he's just a good brother and you've always been SO close.

Any time he sees you alone on the couch, he's tugging his pants down and tapping his cock against your cheek. Of course, you protest. You tell him that you don't know when your parents are getting back. He doesn't care, though. He tells you that you should shut up and get to work if you don't want them to find out.

He's not always mean, though. You'd even say he's somewhat nice when you've had a really hard day and you come to him reluctantly, kneeling in front of him because you just can't be in control right now, and he's the only person who can take that from you.

He rewards you so well for that. For any willing submission you offer him, he returns it by making you cum over and over again on his fingers before he fucks you nice and slow, rolling his hips lazily into yours to drag out the low, whimpered moans that you let slip. He's only gentle with you when you earn it.

He loves to make you cum. He loves it even more when your pretty mouth is objecting to it and telling him he shouldn't be doing it, but your hips are bucking against him and your nails are digging into his arm in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself.

And he takes pictures every time. Sometimes, he'll force you to pose and use his fancy camera. Those are the more tasteful shots of you in pretty lingerie with wide doe eyes. Other times he's using his phone to capture the tears that spill down your cheeks as you gag around the length of his cock. He loves both equally.

He always has to degrade you. He'll pin you down completely still the movement of his hips as he makes you beg, always something along the lines of "C'mon, puppy. You were all talk before begging me to stop and now you're panting like a bitch in heat. Tell me you want it. That's it, more. I know you can do better than that. Tell me you're my worthless slut."

He knows you like it because your pussy is always dripping and practically pulses around him.

He would never admit it, but after a while you become the only person he fucks. Sure, he could have his pick, but he knows nobody else would look as cute as you do when you're staring up at him wide, panicked eyes, and tear stained cheeks.

He fucking loves seeing you cry. He loves watching you bite your pillow when he finds you laid on your bed and forces your pants down without a word, easily sliding his cock inside of you because you're always soaked at this point.

At some point he starts making you tell him that you love him. He has a firm grip of your throat and you're overstimulated to the point of becoming delirious as he uses one of your toys on you, thrusting it in an out of your aching cunt. "Tell me, and I'll stop, yeah? All you have to do is tell me how much you love me."

And you do. You say it like a prayer. You say it over and over again even after he's stopped, and he's got your cheeks cradled in his hands, cooing at you because you took everything he gave you without a complaint this time.

He was recording it, of course.

Recording you is his second favourite form of torture. He has so many videos of you sat pretty between his legs, your hands in fist infront of you like little paws as your tongue sticks out of your mouth, drool dripping down onto his lap to create a messy wet patch on the fabric of his pants. Those are his favourite to get himself off to.

Sweet brother Hyunjin is always nice enough to let you know when he's getting himself off to you. Which is every time. He sends you videos and pictures of his gorgeous cock fucking up into his hand and it's the only time he seems out of control, desperate for it to be you that he was burying his cock into instead.

Very rarely does he lay back and let you do the work. He likes taking charge and making a mess of you, but very rarely when you're being a good dog and sitting patiently, waiting almost excitedly for his next round of abuse, he lets you do the work. He'll pat his lap and wait for you to climb on top of him, watching in amusement as you fumble with his zipper and shove his pants down, messily grinding yourself against his bulge until he quietly tells you that if you don't move on, he'll leave.

You always perk up at that, taking it less as a threat and more as permission to sink yourself down on his cock. This is when he praises you.

He tells you how pretty you look and that you take his cock so fucking well, looking up at you with something akin to adoration sparkling in his eyes. He might even kiss you. His kisses are the ultimately reward, always slow and sensual. You become ravenous when he kisses you.

Maybe he'll even tell you he loves you. That you're his favourite puppy. He knows he loves you, and he has accepted that. But maybe he'll let you know when your grinding down onto his cock like the well trained mutt he has made you into.

He doesn't make it too sweet though. More like, "that's it. Take my cock, baby. Fuck, I love you. My desperate little slut. All fucking mine, yeah?"

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.

hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.

I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.

"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.

like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.

and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."

and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.

(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)

this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?

my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.

I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.

if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:

[lightaflaem]

𝐩𝐨𝐯: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭.

pairing: tattoo artist!suna x f!reader

genre: semi-angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive

word count: 5.1k

content warnings: profanities, suggestive themes, mentions of needles, sticks, poking, sharp objects, blood, mentions of abuse, scars, violence, trauma, addiction

summary: after countless attempts to convince your tattoo artist college friend, suna rintaro, to do your body art, you couldn’t understand why he keeps on rejecting you. not until he told and showed you the real reason why.

“Is this the chair where your clients sit to get their tattoos done?” you asked, pointing at the leather chair in front of you.

“Yeah, where else do you think I got it done?” Suna answered, not removing his eyes from the patterned tape he’s been wrapping on the grip on the gun.

“So, when are you going to do mine?” you hopped on the leather material, arm resting on the extended side as you clean your antecubital area with your other free hand. It’s obviously not set for your height as you tried making yourself comfortable on the depthness of the chair.

“Very funny, Y/N. Now get off that chair and help me set these up. There's small sized gloves under the cabinet beside that chair, wear those before touching anything.” he ordered, not giving a single fuck about your question. Rolling your eyes, you stood up and started searching for the gloves in the compartment.

“Why won’t you do my tatts?”

“‘Cause you're my friend.”

“Seriously, Rintaro? You have favoritism.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I don’t have favoritism and I don’t do tatts for my friends because I already know them. My brain becomes a mush when it comes to thinking of designs when I already know the person.”

Your jaw dropped at his answer. You don’t buy it. Seriously, what the fuck is he playing with? Irked, you intentionally wore the pair of latex with much more force, making it slap against your wrist hard enough to leave marks. You placed a sterile mat on the stainless surface of the table, aligning the vaseline-coated small cups horizontally and started loading it up with black and red inks.

“You’d make a great apprentice.” he commented as he watched you do the preparations the same way he does it before every session. Each and every step was done with fragility, just like how you retained his routine by watching him do the same thing for the past few years of being with him.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to get a red tattoo,” you spoke as you continued filling the cups. “It’s sexy and I think I’ll look hot in it.”

“But you always look hot, with or without that red ink.” Suna said casually, making your heartbeat accelerate but you didn’t let it get into you because he probably said it to his clients most of the time.

“I know right. That’s why when my college friend became a tattoo artist, the force of getting it done doubled up. Specifically by him.” you know that you didn’t fail to emphasize how badly you wanted to get your body art done by him but maybe for him, he saw it as nothing but a mere compliment for his works.

Who would have thought that the quiet kid from one of your elective classes way back in college a few years ago who subsequently also became your close friend because of a mutual friend, the Miya twins, who were your classmates since you’re in elementary school, will become a famous tattoo artist specializing in line arts, minimalism, and patchworks.

Suna also probably never saw that his future will be like this. From just surviving everyday to a big time personality of inks and needles. With the freedom and peace he gained from following his calling, he also took a leap of faith to change his physical appearance from cropping his hair shorter, both arms, chest, and neck full of patchwork of random tattoos, and his signature snake bites that captivated the hearts of his crowd.

He never liked fame, though. He always hides whenever he’s got the chance to escape from paparazzi and respectfully declines the clients he doesn't want to work with and cannot work with. He's hard to get. That makes him more fascinating in the eyes of others. It’s like he’s hidden behind those inks and it will take thousands of needles to uncover. He’s surely one of a kind.

His skill in generating different designs specifically for each client is no joke. A lot of local and international artists and internet personalities are hitting up his instagram direct messages, asking for his details of booking. You vividly remember one of his interviews wherein he was asked if he ever recycled a design for different clients and what makes him unique from other tattoo artists. He answered“Each client has their own blueprint depending on their cup of tea. That’s what makes me unique from other artists. I created my own scheme and let it align on my client’s skin like it’s running out of breath and ink’s the only thing it needed to satisfy its hunger.”

He’s distinct. He’s consistent. He’s a genius.

But why the hell wouldn't he do your tattoo?

“You're an ink virgin, right? Why do you want to get your tattoo done by me so much?” With much curiosity, Suna leaned against the chair, arms crossing against his chest as his eyes squeezed, waiting to scrutinize your answer.

“Why not? It’s because it’s you.” you simply answered back, finally capping the bottle of ink. In your peripheral vision, you saw how Suna’s eyes dilated but still kept his unpleasant posture. “But if you don’t want to ink my body then it’s fine with me. I’ve been pestering you about it since you started and it’s been a few years. I’m not getting any younger, that's why I wanted to at least get my first tattoo before I turn 27.”

Taken aback by your statement, Suna stayed quiet for a few seconds. Finished with your extra lending hands with his set up, you threw the pair of gloves into the yellow trash bag and finally faced the 6 '1 guy. Suna’s lips were pursed before he licked the lower part, tasting the cold metal of his lip piercing.

“Where do you want to get your first tatts?” he questioned as his gaze started lingering on your bare skin.

“I don’t know, do you have a preferred part?” you threw back, not having a single clue on where you wanted to get your first one.

Removing himself from the chair, he took a step forward, slowly making his way towards you. You weren’t sure why but your feet felt like it was glued on the ground. The vision started to get blurry, almost feeling dizzy but you found your vision focusing more on Suna, who’s already in front of you with a small curve of smile written on his face.

“If you ask me where,” he lifted his hand, letting his delicate fingers glide from your shoulder up to your collarbone that sent shivers to your spine. “I prefer it to be somewhere where others can’t see it. Somewhere where I’m the only one who can see it. Somewhere exclusive only for me.” he smirked and pulled himself away from you. “Kidding. Your body, your rules.”

His touch left your skin yet you could still feel his cold fingertips against yours. You felt your breathing stopped as you held it the whole moment he was in front of you and whispered those words to you. Damn you, Suna. He surely knew how to shake your whole existence in a few words.

“I’ll be going away for three days. I’ll go to Tokyo to attend a tattoo convention.” he spoke, not letting his gaze wander to anywhere except you. “If you happen to finally be decisive about the placement before I get back, I’ll do your tatts. In exchange, I’ll tell and show you something.” 

You grinned, finally hitting the jackpot. Bingo.

“Deal. I’ll see you in three days.” 

Suna let out a small chuckle when he saw how happy your eyes were. Silly, he thought. Who knew that a single tattoo could mean the world to a 25-year-old adult like you?

“Oh before I forget,” he suddenly remembered, turning to you once more. “Don’t worry. I’ll update for the next three days.”

“Holy shit, Rintaro finally agreed to do yer tatts?!” Atsumu exclaimed, almost flipping the table.

“Shut your mouth, you’re spitting the best burger in Hyogo all over the place!” His twin brother, Osamu snarked at him.

Despite graduating from college and living your lives separately, one becoming a professional volleyball player for Japan, the other opening his own onigiri business, and you having your own clothing line, you couldn’t ignore the fact that the Miya twins literally have a special place in your heart. So here you are, sitting across them in a fast food chain with burgers and fries stuffed in your mouth as you continued catching up with each other’s lives after a few months of not seeing each other.

The twins know how much you wanted to get your first tattoo from Rintaro. Giving all their best shots and trying everything within their might, they still cannot lure their old mate into the trap. They were always shut down by Suna, especially Atsumu since he’s the one who’s been doing all of the talking and bargaining because apparently, he’s got a big mouth according to their fox-eyed friend.

They even went as far as recruiting the innocent Sakusa Kiyoomi, also one of their tattoo artist friends who recently opened his shop to blackmail Suna into inking your body; however, the latter just scoffed at their failed idea and told them to try harder again next time. With that, Atsumu shouldered Sakusa’s business permit expenses as a “payment” for pestering him.

“I mean, I’m also surprised, ‘yah know? It took me years to persuade him and now I just have to decide for the placement. But I would love to get it in red ink, though.” you shared your thoughts as you sipped from your diet cola.

“Did you already have a placement in your mind? Maybe your shoulders?” Osamu pointed at your exposed skin from wearing a tank top.

You just shrugged because honestly, you haven’t given it much thought yet. “I have an idea. But Rin told me that he prefers to do it somewhere exclusive only for him.” 

Atsumu bursted out, laughing his whole ass off that earned a few stares from the people around you. You and Osamu were puzzled, giving him a tyrannical look.

“Fucking hell, man. I am so proud,” he said between his laughs. “Rinrin has grown into a man! He’s got balls, Y/N! He finally got the dick, Samu!”

The rest of the night went well as you guys hit karaoke and arcade after dinner just like the old days. If it wasn’t for Atsumu’s official schedule the following day, the three of you plan to invite Suna for a drink because he’s finally returning back tonight from his 3-day tattoo convention in Tokyo. 

He kept his word on updating you. The very first thing that you saw when you opened your eyes on his first day in Tokyo was a ‘good morning’ text, followed by a mirror picture of him wearing a featured shirt from your summer collection. You blushed at the fact that he’s wearing your own creation even though he’s very supportive of it since the very start. He looked really good in your design.You told him that he doesn’t need to update you that much but his response was ‘Na uh. I’ll still update you so hurry up and think about where you wanted to get it, Ma’am.’. You knew that it was just a polite term yet, it’s enough to make your knees feel weak. But you were quick enough to shake the thoughts off, thinking that it’s just a friendly term to address his future client.

As the darkness engulfed the sky, the twins dropped you off in front of your apartment and bid them goodbye. It’s already 9 in the evening and you wonder if Suna’s already back in Hyogo because your message was left delivered and you haven’t received a single text from him since this afternoon.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed, flashing Suna’s contact photo on the screen.

Rintaro is calling…

“Yo.” you answered, unlocking the door of your unit.

“Ma’am? Did you just get home?” his raspy voice boomed on the other line of the phone. You never knew how much you longed for his presence, not until you heard his voice again for the first time in 3 days.

“Yup. We went to karaoke and arcade after dinner. We’re supposed to invite you for drinks but Tsumu’s got an official sched tomorrow.” you paused, kicking your shoe on the rack. “How about you? Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. Just got here and the first thing I did was to call you after fully charging my phone. It’s been dead since afternoon because I lost my charger. M’sorry for not messaging you.” you don’t know if you’re just a little bit tired from earlier but you could sense the hidden craving behind his voice.

“It’s okay, Rin. It’s no big deal,” you assured, as it was really not a big deal for you. “So, about the offer.”

You heard him clicking his tongue, followed by a soft chuckle. “Have you thought where you wanted to get your first ones, Ma’am?”

“Mhm. You wanna know where?” 

“Surprise me.”

It made you giggle like a highschool kid talking to her crush for the first time. Suna is really good with his words. On the other line, Suna was leaning his head against his black bed frame, unintentionally scratching his bare chest as he’s not used to wearing a top inside his house and saw it. He took a deep breath before biting his lower lip to surpass the fact that he’s thrilled with the thought of him finally marking your skin.

“Where do you want to get it done? It can be in my studio but I can also do home service, exclusive only for you.”

“I want to get it done in the studio. I wanted to experience sitting in your leather chair as a client, Sir.”

Damn. Something ignited inside Suna when he heard you calling Sir, right back when he started calling you Ma’am. It’s like a switch being flipped on. Composing his mind and shaking any thoughts, he nodded as if you’re seeing him right now.

“Alright then. We’ll start tomorrow at nine in the morning. Make sure to get enough sleep, eat breakfast and drink water. I’ll brief you tomorrow once we’re there, Ma’am. Remember that in exchange, I’ll tell and show you something.” he reminded, knowing that you don’t like going to bed early.

“Wow, your customer service is top tier.” you commended as your mind started intensifying with the thought of finally doing it tomorrow.

“Exclusive only for you, Ma’am.” he reminded once again, trying to hint you up.

“Okay, Sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you. Good night, Y/N.”

Fuck. It’s not the first time Suna has said that to you but your insides are rumbling. You felt your blood rushing as your vital organ increased the pumping because anytime now, you could feel suffocated from the excitement. Calm down. Calm down.

“Good night, Rin.”

With that, he let you hang up the call. Later that night, you tried your best to get a good night's sleep yet in your fantasy, you still feel like you’re sleep calling with Suna. You couldn’t take your mind off with his words earlier. He’s going to tell and show you something? Still trying to squeeze every cell of your brain, you cannot pulp any idea on what it’s going to be.

You just hope it’s nothing serious because it’s actually scary, the thought of him being dead serious on something. You shrugged off any negative thoughts and wished that it's nothing because you wouldn’t be able to grasp if it’s going to significantly impact your life in a pessimistic way. You might lose your shit because you know that you’re clearly, madly, deeply attached to Suna Rintaro.

“So this is how it feels like to sit right here.” you spoke with awe as you comfortably aligned yourself with the chair’s depth. It was adjusted perfectly for your height.

Suna grinned, setting up the materials on the stainless table beside you. You offered to help but he quickly declined it, reasoning that you’re here as a client today, not as his self-labeled apprentice.

Despite being here lots of time already, it felt like this was the first time you’ve seen his studio. The details you didn’t notice before suddenly popped in your vision, such as the fern green wallpaper and plants that he’s been watering regularly. On the outside, it looks like Suna’s more of a monochrome guy but in reality, he adores green so much because according to him, it brings the dull color into life. For him, it feels like life.

You also noticed the usual well-lit led ceiling lights wrapped around the four corners of his studio are now dimly-lit as well as the aroma of lavender mint from his scented candles that he ignited for the first time since he got it lingering probably to cover up the smell of blood, dead skin, and ink. Oh, and there’s also an inspired portrait of his favorite characters from his favorite movies drawn in his own artstyle framed and hung on the walls. His usual arctic monkeys and heavy metal playlist was replaced with some 88rising, r&b, and keshi which are you favorite artists and genre at the moment,

You never took your time to appreciate Suna’s studio this much until now. 

“Okay Ma’am, show me where you wanted it to be placed.” he asked, almost ordering you. Taking a deep inhale, you were surely nervous as heck right now but you already made your mind. Somewhere where he’s the only one who can see it. Somewhere exclusive only for him, huh?

You slowly lifted your white shirt, revealing your red lace bralette that perfectly hugged your breasts. You specifically chose this outfit for this occasion. Swallowing a lump, you pointed at your waist up to the side of your right boob, passing it and nearly up to your armpit. “Here. I wanted to get it here.”

Suna was quiet the whole time yet his widened foxy eyes tell you otherwise. He’s speechless. His eyes were fixated on you, admiring the view which he saw for the first time. He knows that you’re sexy and elegant, but he didn’t expect that you’re this sexy. In his eyes, you are the most beautiful art he’s ever seen in his whole life. He fought the urge to hold you in your waist because he wanted to feel your skin against his.

“Tough spot. Damn Ma’am, you’re courageous.” he commented on your preference. You felt your cheeks heating up as embarrassment started creeping in because Suna hasn’t removed his gaze yet on your body. “Can I…touch it? I’ll just…assess it.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together as Suna’s gloved hand made its way to your body. He traced your torso up to your ribcage and he couldn’t help but to squeeze a small smile in between.

“Will it hurt?” you hesitantly asked.

“It will. But I’ll be gentle, I promise.” you almost choked on his answer because it gave you other ideas. “Now make yourself comfortable. Tell me if it hurts, we’ll take a break. I’ll do my best to make it painless but I cannot guarantee.”

You fixed your position on the inclined chair, making yourself at home on your left side but your torso was slightly flattened down, facing him to get a better access to the area, especially your sides up to your armpit. Suna sat down in the swivel stool and faced you from your left, maintaining his demeanor as he grabbed the stencil he prepared. You intentionally didn’t ask about the design he planned because you also wanted to surprise yourself with Suna's creativity. You wanted to astonish yourself and it pretty much tells how big your trust is when it comes to Suna.

Once he’s done with shaving the excess hair, the paper hits your side, tickling your skin as Suna’s gloved hand starts flattening it against your body. It was followed by the cold sensation of the adhesive washing the paper. His right pinky accidentally brushed against your boob, making you scream internally. In no time, he’s already removing the piece of paper, indicating that the stencil’s already in place.

Suna licked his lower lip and you noticed how he wore his usual snake bites differently today by swapping the horseshoe jewelry into a plain one. He pushed himself forward but still maintained the distance between the two of you. Reaching out for the tattoo gun, you’ve already had an idea how it sounded but when he tested it and made a whirring sound that buzzed on your ears, you found yourself clutching the hem of Suna’s shirt due to the tense building up inside your stomach.

“You alright, Y/N?” he asked, staring down at you. The whole point of view sent you to spiral as you never imagined yourself being under Suna.

“Yeah, sorry. I hope you don’t mind this.” you pointed at your hands curled into his shirt which earned him a few laughs. Suna thought that it was so fucking cute when look so small to him.

“You’re free to hold me wherever.” he smiled, caressing your exposed shoulder as a sign of assurance. “Remember that if it hurts too much, just tap out and we can take a break, Ma’am.”

Bobbing your head, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath as the sound of the gun reverberated once again. Suna started poking the needle against your skin. The first five minutes were much more uncomfortable rather than painful - almost feeling like a slow rug burn. However, as he moved upwards and started hitting the bones of your side ribs, it started feeling hell that you couldn’t help but small whimpers escaped from your mouth. It stings like crazy.

“Are you okay? We can take a break. Do you want some water?” Suna offered concern as he saw your forehead creased into an agonizing expression.

“N-no, just continue. I’ll eventually get used to it.” you declared, not wanting to raise your white flag.

Suna nodded and started working on it again. You could feel like he’s outlining something in more of a swivel way. You could also feel like there’s a lot of lines and shading going on. The next 30 minutes were spent with the two of you talking about college, reminiscing the memories you shared together as well as with the Miya twins. Another 30 minutes and he’s already wrapping up by taking one last wipe before applying the tattoo jelly on the area. 

“I thought that it will be painful as fuck,” you said truthfully. “You wrecked my expectations, Rin.” 

“Well, it’s an honor to be complimented by you. I told you, I’ll be gentle.” he winked, removing his gloves on his hands. “Congratulations, Y/N. You’re no longer a tattoo virgin.”

Laughters echoed in the room as he clapped at your achievement. He grabbed the mirror that was lying beside your chair and signaled you to sit up. Obeying him, you lifted yourself as you felt your skin being stretched.

“I hope you like my design, Y/N.” flipping the mirror, you saw your inked skin for the first time.

Your mouth parted, eyes filled with wonderstruck. 

There’s a lot of fine lines from the upper part of your side, down to your ribs, and finally your waist. The lines were broken yet some of them were connected with each other. In the middle, there’s multiple flowers drawn in outline, looking like they have bloomed together. You couldn’t elucidate the design in words yet your brain could tell how it looks and your heart could tell how it feels like to be inked distinctively.

You finally understood why they call Suna a genius. Because he’s the only one who has the ability to make you feel like you're abstract and he’s the only one who can understand you.

“Do you like it?” he asked, a little bit nervous as you stayed silent.

“Like?” you questioned. “I fucking love it, Rintarou. I love it so much that it made me speechless… Thank you. Wow…Seriously, thank you.”

You’re not kidding. You’re not exaggerating. You were at a loss for words because only the silence of appreciation could speak for right now on how you feel about the design.

Pleased, a genuine smile carved on Suna’s lips as he watched you beaming with joy on your first body art done by none other than him.

“Now in exchange, I want you to pop my shirt.” he cleared his throat, bringing the mirror down as he signaled you.. Your face was puzzled. Pop…his shirt? “Come here, Y/N. Take off my shirt.”

You were hesitant at first but you gradually moved towards him and lifted his shirt out of his body. You have never seen him shirtless before because as far as you know, it makes him uncomfortable to show some skin to others before that’s why you never saw him wearing sleeveless before. And now he’s asking you to pop his shirt for what reason?

Pulling the fabric above, Suna’s exposed skin was hit with the cool air. You gasped when you saw multiple scars across the chest and lower body. Some of them formed multiple layers above each other, making the skin rise from its base. He doesn’t have any tattoo in his lower body but he has one in his chest, near his heart. And it was…shit. Could it be…?

“You see, Y/N, I never really talked about this before but my dad used to uh, beat me up with a socket wrench when I was a child,” he spoke, voice filled with coldness. “He’s an addict and whenever he doesn’t have the money to support his damn addiction, he’ll find another way to release his stress and that is to beat me up whenever he’s got the fucking chance.”

You felt like all the nerves in your body were paralyzed as your eyes slowly widened, sinking his words inside your head. He’s dad is what? Beating him? With a socket wrench? Fuck.

“I thought I wouldn’t be able to reach college, ya know? That’s why when I was given the privilege to still continue my education, I didn’t let it go to waste as I thought that it was the only way to escape from the madness of my life.” his fingers brushed against his scars. It was healed, probably years ago yet you could visibly see the paint being painted on his face as he felt the trace of his yesterday.

“And suddenly, all of this turned all the way around when I became friends with the twins and you.” he lifted his gaze, maintaining his eye contact with you. Something ignited inside Suna when he met your orbs. He felt like colors bursted in his eyes. “When my dad finally got the help he needed and I made peace with whatever demons I have, that’s when I felt like I had another chance with life. That’s why when I started taking interest in inking, I took it very seriously because for the first time, I saw that I finally saw that I got the chance to stand in life. To live, not just to survive.”

The sincere confession made a short pang inside your heart. All this time, he was hurting. All the damn time, he’s living his life in hell. And being friends with him, just being by his side, made him realize that he can finally free himself from the uncanny of his life.

“The reason why I keep on rejecting your request is because I am not ready yet. Y/N, I spent my whole career crafting the most unique design I could ever create for you. Just for you. I wanted to make it the best among the rest. Also, as cheesy as it may sound, I wanted to be the man worthy of inking your very first tattoo.”

You felt like your heart’s going feral inside your ribcage. Suna stood up in front of you, bare bodies touching each other. You could feel his minty hot breath tickling your nose despite the coldness of the room. Slowly, he grabbed both of your hands and intertwined your fingers together before bringing it in front of you to plant a soft kiss on it.

“I’m sorry that it took me this much time to be worthy of everything. Thank you for not giving up on me. You may notice the lines in your tattoos, it represents the thought of despite being broken, you could still find your way back and bloom within it. Y/N, you gave me that reason to bloom again at my own pace.”

He dragged your hands in his chest, making you feel the only tattoo he has on his upper body. “Y/N, this is your initials. This was my very first tattoo and I intentionally got it in my heart so that whenever I hold my heart, I’ll always remember that you’re here.”

Suna’s eyes glimmered, mirroring yours as you could feel him getting more emotional any second. Giving up, you stood on your toes, enclosing the centimeters given between the two of you by latching your lips to his. Without giving it a second thought, Suna pulled you closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. It was a hot, wet kiss that the two of you shared as tears started tearing down in your cheeks. When Suna tasted the salty liquid, he finally let his guard down and cried himself between the sloppy kiss.

Pulling away, both of you were panting as your cheeks were stained with the liquid that you shared. You let out a chuckle and pulled him into a tight hug which he gladly returned.

“You’re never late, Suna. You will always be the tattoo artist that captivated my heart, no matter what and no matter how long it takes. I’ll always wait for your creations, and I’ll kiss every one of your flaws until you realize you’re love.”

© lightaflaem. do not repost on any platform.

bonus

y/n's "exclusive" tattoo made it to suna's instagram :]

[fandomxo00]

Logan and reader being in a secret relationship while at the mansion and him staying awake late (though let’s be honest he was awake anyways) just so he can sneak into her room to spend time with her, snuggle, watch a movie (bonus points if it’s a twin bed - I love the idea of a 6’2” man squishing himself on a twin bed with his partner just to spend time with her no matter how uncomfortable it is) x 🥺💕✨

note: logan in his sweats makes me feral, 2000 logan makes me feral, logan makes feral - he's such a night owl and id soo match his freak lmao -trying to work on the requests i have won't be super long or edited, but i'm excitedd xooo, if your request isnt posted soon, i'm just still working on it! i so appreciate all of the requests i get, thank you guys ❤️❤️❤️

it would be super late at night; he'd been tossing and turning for hours. Thinking about you and trying not to give in to see you. The two of you weren't technically together, though he claimed you whenever he did fold. You were much younger than him, you were still technically a student. You just got here a little while ago, already an adult when he met you. But you were still in the student side of the building, he even had to fuck you in a twin bed. Most of the time you didn't fold and come to him, you were far too nervous to sneak into the teacher's dorms of the school Plus, sometimes you tricked yourself into thinking he didn't want you, so you wouldn't risk it.

So with the moon's light shining through his window, he kicked off his sheets, turning so his feet hit the floor. Logan was only in his gray sweatpants, his hand coming to scratch as his belly before he rose to his feet. He knew that if he didn't go to you wouldn't go to bed til much-much later, your mind never able to turn off. So he walked over to the back of his door, grabbing his zip up hoodie and walking out of his room. Padding down the hallways, listening carefully to things around him. Before coming up to your door that had little stars around your name. His hand came around the handle, his jaw clenching as he twisted the knob and moved the door open.

That's when he saw you, completely unaware that he was in the room. You had your glasses on the bridge of your nose, your chin dipped as your brown eyes focused on the screen. You were typing away with your earbuds in, the music you were listening could be heard from the outside. Though with his hearing he knew what song you liked, always listening to the same playlist whenever he came in. Little did he know you had a playlist labeled, 12, for the first letter of his first name. Songs that reminded you of him, or songs you heard him playing in his classroom. He glanced over at the window that was cracked open, your rig and torch sitting below.

You even smoked late at night, trying to get your mind to slowly shut off but sometimes it was like your sleep medication and the weed kept you awake. Though some nights it was the opposite, but he saw the tired look in your eyes. You were fighting sleep, and your mind probably kept going. When he closed your door, your head lifted up and you yelped, jumping.

Logan laughed as you took out your headphones, "Like you don't see me every night." He joked, as you scoffed, closing your laptop quickly and setting your thighs to the side.

"Was waiting for you."

"Should've just come to me, sunshine." Logan hummed as he sauntered over to the bed, your hands reached out to the sides of his jacket zipper, pulling him into you. His lips find yours in a soft kiss as you rise on to your knees.

The two of you crawled into bed together, Logan pulling you in closer to him so you comfortably lay on the bed, his legs folding into yours to create room. Curling his head into your neck with one arm under your neck or arm, the other around your waist or hip. The two of you couldn't really move much and when you did, the other had to be aware in order to not fall off the bed. You usually didn't just find sleep, when you first started doing this it was filled with a lot of sex. But the two of you were just too tired, so you listened to each other talk. Feeling the vibrations of each other's chest, breathing, hands tracing over each other's skin as you rambled.

Logan having to turn you into him so he could kiss you, looking into your eyes as you rambled on about the story you were writing. He loved how much detail you went in with him, especially when it got dirty. Logan listened to every detail fascinated by the way your mind worked and how excited you would get at some plot points. You would wound up in the crook of his arm, while he found his home tickling the skin of your neck with his beard. His natural musk invading his senses and drawing the sleep out of him as he found solicae and comfort in your embrace. Your own hand draped over his waist, moving under his jacket to feel his warm skin. Then he'd peel off the jacket, pressing you to his skin and making you practically purr as you melted into him.

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 10

Prior and future chapters here.

A visitor in the park.

CW: domestic violence, rape, ableist language, homophobic slurs (f-word), internalized ableism, suicidal ideation.

-

It seems cruel that such terrible things must happen at moments when you are your happiest. There’s logic in it, sure—there can be no joy without pain, and happiness is bracketed on either side by sadness—but logic and cruelty don’t have to live apart from each other. In fact, you would often say they are married. 

Your boyfriend stands over you, blotting out the sun like a raincloud come to pour down on the briefest moment of peace you have felt in the last several days. Everything about him is innocuous: his clothes, his posture, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stares down at you with unspeakable fondness in his eyes. 

“Hi honey,” he says. “How was work?” 

Johnny goes to stand, but your boyfriend is quicker, banging his shin violently against Johnny’s knee. Johnny sucks in a breath as the pain winds him, body bowing over to protect his most vulnerable areas. 

“Don’t stand on my account,” your boyfriend says to his crumpled figure. “Did I get the right knee? I did, didn’t I? I wasn’t sure if it was the right or the left—“

“Hey!” you bellow, the volume of your own voice surprising you. You stand between them, put both hands against your boyfriend’s chest, and push. He nearly goes sprawling on the sidewalk, only barely managing to get his feet under him in time. You point a shaking finger in his face. “You don’t fucking touch him!”

“An accident,” he laughs, lifting his hands. “I stumbled into him. It could have happened to anybody.” 

“Yer a fucking cunt,” Johnny groans, both hands gripping his thigh above his knee, knuckles pale. “And so’s yer mother. Syphilis-infected-cocksucking bitch.”

“Not nice,” your boyfriend says mildly, shoving his hands back into his pocket. “Do you kiss my fiancé with that mouth?” 

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” you hiss. All three of you quiet down as an older couple inches by, hand in weathered hand. When they are a safe distance away, you ask: “How did you know I was here? Were you following me?”

“I can’t reveal all my secrets,” he says, lowering his voice to a dangerous timber, one that promises violence. “The same way you’re not willing to give up all of yours. You thought I wouldn’t notice you coming home late all the time? Do I look stupid?” 

Johnny makes a sound, some kind of wounded laugh that only serves to put you on edge even more. You can imagine his answer—but he doesn’t know your boyfriend. He doesn’t know the kind of grim, intelligent cruelty that is wielded against you every day. Johnny is hot headed and craving violence, but he’s in no condition to experience it. 

You have to protect him. 

“We can talk about it at home,” you mutter, making sure to keep between the two men who seem eager for each other’s blood. Your boyfriend tongues his cheek, eyeing Johnny, weighing his options. 

“Come on,” you say, louder. Reaching out, you grip his arm, nails digging into his skin. He doesn’t even flinch. But after an endless moment of waiting for further provocation from Johnny, he decides Johnny isn’t worth his time. He laces his fingers in yours and pulls you along, further away from the bench, from Johnny, from the sunlight. 

“Get in the car,” he says, walking to the driver’s side. 

“You’re not supposed to drive.” 

“I won’t say it again.” 

He won’t, either. You know him. So instead you slip into the passenger seat. There’s no worse feeling than being in an enclosed space with him. The air feels heavy and oppressive, weighing you down. At the same time, your body buzzes with adrenalin, preparing for pain. You numbly buckle your seatbelt while he starts the car. 

“How long have you been cheating on me with that cripple next door?” he asks calmly. 

“I’m not.”

The calm snaps, nothing but a thin sheet of icy veneer over a deep, dark lake of fury. 

“Don’t—lie—to—me,” he says through his teeth. He holds out a hand and wiggles his fingers. “Phone. Hand it over. You’ve lost your privileges.” 

“I don’t have it,” you lie. “It’s at work.” 

“You really do,” he says, staring at you with borderline awe. “You think I’m a fucking idiot, don’t you? Oh, baby. Oh, honey. You’re in for it. How do you think I fucking found you? Give me the goddamn phone.” 

You shake your head. You can’t give it up. Not when it’s the only safe way for Simon to contact you. 

He reaches for your hand. The two of you struggle as you try to avoid his touch, briefly banging your knuckles on the car window, but then he has your hand in his grasp, and he takes your smallest finger and wrenches it back, back—you feel the pop, pain lancing through your hand all the way to your wrist. 

You screech. 

“Give me the phone,” he says, letting you cradle the misshapen hand against your breast. You grit your teeth, tears dripping off your chin. When he reaches for your hand again, you break and turn out your pockets, handing over your last lifeline. He takes the phone and beats it against the dashboard, again and again and again until the screen is a spider’s web of cracks, glass littering your knees. 

He hands you back the broken phone. 

“You broke my fucking finger,” you cry, voice warbling embarrassingly. 

“You broke your own finger by not listening to me the first time,” he says, tossing the phone in your lap when you don’t take it. He puts the car in reverse. “Don’t blame me for your mistakes, baby.” 

-

The two of you spend five hours in the emergency room together. This is an integral part of the experience; when he hurts you, he has to heal you. 

Your pinky isn’t broken, only dislocated. They set it and splint it and warn you that it could take months to feel normal again, like you know at all what that word means. Beneath the tinny lights of the exam room, your makeup job must be failing, because the nurse asks your boyfriend to step out so that she can ask you a few questions alone. 

This isn’t your first time in the emergency room, and you know the rules. You stick to your story (the one he had stitched together on the drive to the ER) even without your boyfriend’s oppressive presence looming over your shoulder. The nurse gives you a look that is both professional and pitying. You spend the rest of the visit refusing to meet her eyes, chewing on the nails of your good hand. 

“Could you be any more suspicious?” your boyfriend asks mildly while the two of you leave. He waves to one of the nurses, who gives back a cheerful little salute. 

Making friends wherever he goes; that’s your boyfriend. 

-

Walking into your apartment is like walking into another world. 

Everything has been upended: the couch cushions, the silverware drawers, the chairs at the table. DVD’s have been removed from their boxes. Even the fucking lamps have had their lampshades removed. The bathroom and bedroom doors have been taken off their hinges and laid neatly against one another in the bedroom. 

“You weren’t the only one busy today,” he says, relishing in your grim expression. “You know the drill. Clean up. Then we’ll go to bed.” 

This is an old trick of his that you know well. He tore the place apart searching for contraband—but he knows that even he isn’t all-powerful. Now he waits to see where you will rush to clean up first, where your anxious mind will take you, desperate to find out if he’s found whatever you’ve been hiding. Once it was money. Another time, a business card for a lawyer. 

This time, a lighter that’s not your own. 

You’re smarter now, though. You don’t go straight for your sock drawer where the lighter is hidden. You begin at the northernmost point of the apartment and clean north to south, east to west, methodical, your hand throbbing as the anesthetic wears off. 

It is deeply late by the time you make it to the bedroom to find your clothes strewn across the bed. Your eyes burn with exhaustion, body aching from a long day at work (and a longer day after work). You can’t help but think of Johnny as you clean, tucking clothes back into their drawers, putting clothes back on their hangers. Did he make it home safely? Did he finally message Simon? Did he try to walk home? Thinking about Johnny out alone in the dark makes your stomach turn unpleasantly. 

Sock drawer now. Most of these are still in the dresser, though some have been pushed out into the floor in your boyfriend’s search for ammunition to use against you. You pick up the few outliers and stuff them back into the drawer. 

No lighter. 

It’s not there. You know even as you continue to search without hope, rifling through your paired socks as subtly as you can. This is all just another game. He’s found the lighter and has just been waiting for you to notice it’s gone so that he can torment you with it. Maybe he’ll flick the spark wheel (the way Johnny can’t—God, Johnny, please be okay—) and hold the flame to your skin or your hair—

You touch something hard, plastic. Your breath catches. It’s there. It’s still there, tucked inside a pair of socks. He hadn’t found it. Relief rises up in you so poignantly that tears fill your eyes, even as you force yourself to shut the drawer and move on to another part of the room, feeling your boyfriend’s presence at the door, watching. 

The lighter was so little, but it meant so much. You couldn’t even put into words why. Because it was Johnny’s, maybe. Because it was yours, now. Because it was one thing your boyfriend hadn’t put his hands on and destroyed or claimed as his own. Nothing belonged to you—not your money, not your body, nothing. Except maybe that silly lighter. 

You wait until after he fucks you to speak, stubbornly maintaining your silence even through the pain and humiliation he inflicts on you. There’s something even worse about the way he draws your body against his afterwards, an arm looped possessively over your waist, the imitation of a loving cuddle. 

“I want to break up,” you say. 

He gives a long-suffering sigh, breath rustling your hair. “Keep dreaming, baby.” 

The words won’t stop tripping out of your mouth. 

“I mean it. I hate you—and you hate me. All we do is fight and hurt each other. Why…” you get choked up, swallow past the lump in your throat. “We don’t have to do this anymore. You can’t possibly be happy. Is this really how you want to live the rest of your life? Tormenting me?” 

He is quiet for longer than you expect. You hold your breath, tears dripping from your eyes and over the bridge of your nose, down into your pillowcase. Maybe he’s thinking about it. Maybe he’s really considering it. 

At last, he says: “Don’t ever think that there’s anywhere else in the world…anything else I’d rather be, than right where I am.”

Your heart plummets.

“Now go to sleep,” he says, kissing your neck. “You work in the morning.”

-

The sun goes down before Simon finds him. Johnny sits shivering on the bench where you left him, his eyes red rimmed and unseeing even when he hears the familiar footsteps of his lover against the pavement. 

Simon sits next to him where you once sat, and for a long time, neither of them speaks. When Johnny finally breaks the silence, his voice is rough from hours of crying and disuse. 

“I brought her here,” he says. 

Simon nods. He knows. Of course he knows. 

“I think she liked it,” Johnny adds, trying to find any brightness in the dark that encompasses him. 

But all at once the tears come back, his throat burning, head throbbing. He bends at the waist, elbow on his thigh, and shakes, trying to keep his crying quiet, still clinging to the remnants of a dignity that God tears more from his grasp every day. When Simon’s warm arm wraps around him, it just makes him cry harder, even as he leans into the heat of the other man like a flower bends toward the sun. 

“I’m useless,” Johnny weeps. “Fuckin’ useless. He showed up and just—took her, and I couldn’t do a thing to stop him. Even you think I’m useless—druggin’ me to keep me from getting in your way. I can’t dress myself, can’t tie my own shoes. What fucking good am I, as a human being? What’s the good in being alive if I have to live like this?”

Simon says nothing. Johnny leans up, letting the moonlight wash over his tear-soaked face. He wipes at his cheeks. 

“You can’t be happy, either,” he says, taking in the solemn lines of Simon’s face, the shadows under his eyes. Simon looks older than his age, and Johnny knows who is responsible, who has aged him. Terrified to know the answer, he asks: “Is this how you want to live? With an overgrown child as your lover? One who can’t remember where he took off his shoes? Who needs you to, to cut up his food and button his shirts?” 

“If that’s how it’s going to be,” says Simon simply. “If that’s how I get to be with you. Then yeah, Johnny. I’m solid.” 

Johnny shakes his head. He can’t even find the energy within him to be angry. All that’s left is disbelief. “You can’t mean that.” 

“I mean it. I—“ Simon ducks his head. “—I never should have put those pills in your juice. I should have trusted you. I wish I could take that back.” 

Johnny sniffs wetly. It’s as close to an apology as he’s ever heard Simon give, and it makes no small amount of guilt bloom in Johnny’s aching chest. 

“You were right not to trust me,” says Johnny. “I was lying.”

“I know,” says Simon. He reaches down and laces his fingers with Johnny’s one hand. “But I want to be a man who trusts you, even if I’m wrong.” 

Johnny is quiet for a long time, turning those words over in his head. A painful longing rises up in his chest, one he hasn’t felt since the days when he was still in the 141, days when he could barely breathe for wanting the man beside him so badly. When they’d had to love each other in secret, and it felt like he would happily have given anything if it meant they didn’t have to hide anymore. 

I miss you, he thinks. I miss myself. Leaning in, he lays his cheek against Simon’s shoulder. 

“Are we gonna make it?” he wonders quietly, watching the last of the fireflies twinkle around the dim park. Soon it will be too cold for them. Soon it will be too cold for Johnny. 

“Whatever we do, we’ll do it together,” Simon promises, laying his temple against Johnny’s head. 

-

He waits until you are asleep to creep out of the bed. There is no rest for him—not when he gets in these restless, paranoid moods. Not when he has a hunch to follow. 

Quietly, he drifts through the apartment like a ghost. Everything is back in its place, but he tries to think of anywhere he might have missed to search. You are hiding something; he knows it. He knows you. You’re see-through to him, predictable in a way that used to thrill him but now just irritates. 

“Where is it?” he mutters, standing in the living room, turning a slow circle. 

Was the lighter really all you’d been hiding? That stupid piece of plastic and metal? He’d found it easily and decided it served him better left in its place. Let you think that he had missed it. Let you think that he was slipping. 

“I’m sharper than ever, baby,” he mutters to himself in the darkness. 

Halfheartedly, he searches a few places that he had already gone through: checking some of the mugs on the top shelf in the kitchen, feeling beneath the table in the foyer for anything taped beneath it. 

He thinks about the cripple next door while he does it. Johnny. A problem, if he’s ever seen one. Him and his boyfriend both. What two faggots want with you, he can’t imagine—good Samaritans, perhaps? Well they would find out in good time what happened to people who put their noses where they didn’t belong. 

Regardless, he doesn’t like it. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

Sighing, he braces his hands against the table, resting his weight against it. If he’d known that this building would cause so much trouble, he never would have moved you in here. Not that the two of you had been swimming in options. 

Your keys on the table catch his eye, but he doesn’t know why. He nudges them with his hand, metal dragging over the wood. On a whim, he counts them. 

There is an extra key. 

His brows lift. He picks up the keys and goes through them one by one, wracking his brain to remember what each one is for. At last he’s left with a single unfamiliar key. One that looks identical to the key to their apartment. A duplicate? he wonders. For when she’s locked out? 

But no, the keys are different. Just similar. 

An idea tickles at the back of his brain, but he’s never been the kind of man to ignore his instincts. He goes to the door without bothering to slip on his shoes, and steps silently out into the hallway. At this time of night, there is no one out and about, no one peeking at him from their doors.  On silent feet, he pads to his neighbor’s door and grips the knob. Locked. 

He slips the key into the lock—and it opens. 

Oh that little bitch. Fury rises up in him until he can taste it in the back of his throat. He wants to go and wake you, take a fistful of your hair and drag you out into the hallway for all your nosy neighbors to see, wants to hear that shriek of pain you give when he hurts you so unexpectedly—

But no. He has to be smart. 

He locks 5C’s door again, checks the handle, then slips back into his apartment. There will be no rest for him tonight. Not when there is so much to think about. 

[russo-woso]

Turned on by the simplest thing || Alessia Russo

Masterlist | Prompt list

Request Breastfeeding kink gets turned on every time you go to feed she gets annoyed someone else is sucking your breast instead of her

A/N Now I debated whether to add something into this fic, and I asked my readers and you can see their responses here and here.

Warning smut 18+, breastfeeding kink, soft smut, cunnilingus, postpartum sex, insecurities

Summary Alessia gets turned on by the simplest thing, breastfeeding.

Alessia’s favourite part of your body was your boobs.

You knew that, she knew that, most people knew that.

In the changing rooms, she’d always get caught staring at your bra.

If you were lying in bed, she’d have her hands resting on your boobs.

If you were having sex, her mouth would always be latched to your nipples.

She just loved your boobs.

But there was a new person who loved your boobs just as much now, your newborn baby girl, Ava.

The first time you had to feed Ava was eventful.

The nurse was teaching you how to get Ava to latch on, Alessia was sat just watching, specifically eyeing your boobs.

But because she was so wrapped up in the moment of becoming a mama, she failed to notice that someone was slowly replacing her.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that she finally noticed.

“Hi Ava, hi baby.” Alessia cooed, picking a crying Ava up and cradling her to her chest. “Let’s go see mummy, huh? She’ll feed you.”

Alessia walked out of Ava’s nursery, walking into the living room where you were sat.

“Hi, bubba.” You said, taking Ava in your arms and preparing yourself to feed her.

Alessia came and sat down next to you, helping hold Ava as you latched her on.

The room was silent apart from small hums of contentment from Ava as she drank.

You just so happened to look at Alessia to see her eyes drilled on your boob.

“What’re you looking at?” You asked, a smirk in your face.

“She’s stealing my job, your boobs are mine.” Alessia said, a pout on her lips.

“Lessi, baby, she has to do this.” You pointed out, a slight smile resting on your face.

“I know, but…”

“You can have them later, okay? When we’ve put her back down. As long as you’re gentle.”

Alessia’s eyes lit up, nodding her head eagerly before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

—

Ava had fallen back asleep and you’d managed to transfer her back to her nursery crib without waking her.

Both, you and Alessia, had decided to start getting Ava to sleep in her nursery during the day so when it was time for her to go from your room to her nursery, she would be comfortable in there.

You heard Alessia in the bedroom and so you creaked open the door, your heart swelling with love as you did so.

You watched as Alessia lit candles around the room, playing some relaxing songs through the Alexa.

“Baby!” Alessia whisper shouted, not wanting to wake Ava up.

You waited a while and then opened the door, pretending to be surprised.

“Lessi… you did this?”

“I want to show you how proud I am of you and how much I love you.” Alessia explained, wrapping her arms round you and bringing you in for a hug.

You responded by kissing her gently, all the love you felt for one another being poured into it.

Whilst kissing you, Alessia reached for the bottom of your shirt, gently pulling it over your head.

“Baby, listen, my body… it’s not how it used to—” you began, pulling away from the kiss.

“—Y/N, you really think I care about that? Pretty girl, you’d just given birth to our daughter. I don’t care what you look like. I love you no matter what.” Alessia said gently, your heart swelling with love.

“I love you so much, lessi.” You told her before reconnecting your lips in a passionate kiss.

Alessia guided you to the bed, unclipping your bra in the process and laying you down on the bed.

Alessia lips didn’t leave yours, even when she climbed on top of you.

Her lips travelled down to your boobs, gently kissing them.

“Fuck.” You hissed at the sensitivity as she licked your nipples.

“Do you want me to stop?” Alessia asked concerned, but you shook your head no.

Alessia continued sucking gently at your nipples.

You hadn’t realized straight away, but when you heard Alessia swallowing, you realized she was drinking your breast milk.

“Tastes so good, baby.” Alessia mumbled before sucking again at your nipple.

“Lessi, you’re drinking it?” You asked, shocked, but it came out as a moan due to the pleasure.

“Tastes too good not to.”

“Fuck, baby.” You gasped, finding the action hot.

Alessia hummed, satisfied, before moving down to your soaked core.

“Gonna be so gentle, love, I promise.” Alessia whispered, her tongue flattening against your folds.

You arched your back at the contact, having not felt it in months.

Alessia lapped at your folds before licking your clit.

“Feel good?” Alessia questioned, the vibrations of her voice clearly evident as jolts of pleasure ran through your body.

“Yes, lessi, feels so good.” You told her, your hand finding her hair.

Alessia stuck to your clit, thinking that you’d be very sensitive, due to the birth, anywhere else.

“Fuck, less — I’m so close, baby.” You warned her, pulling on her hair. “Please don’t stop, please.”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.”

You let out a cry as your legs spasmed around Alesia’s head.

She licked your juices before coming up to be level with your face.

“Thank you for being gentle.” You whispered, bringing Alessia in for a kiss.

You moaned as you tasted yourself on Alessia’s tongue.

Alesia’s lips left yours and travelled down to your left boob.

“Can I have some more?” Alessia asked and you nodded, resting a hand on the back of her head and playing with the baby hairs.

Just as Alessia began to suck, a cry was heard over the baby monitor.

You and Alessia both looked at each other and sighed.

“I’ll go get her.”