#why is she paper thin

[apolunatic]

new hoshiguma skin

[lolexjpg]

"but Alex has had more crashes this year" I am going to lose my fuckinf mind. You KNOW most of those crashes weren't his fault you are actively engaging in a bad faith argument I send you to internet jail effective immediately

[yuukei-yikes]

i started drawing takane chubby just because i had to fit so many details in a short skinny person so i just started making her wider until i got an ask here years ago telling me something abt chubby takane and i was like Wait a second. its true i do draw her chubby. anyways now i always get jumpscared when i read the novels and see her described as super skinny

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Sooo does someone want to explain to Larian how snake sheds work, or should I?

[wolves-in-the-world]

so this was a panic placeholder avatar that I have kept, to my shame, for an entire year. I'm currently considering options—

—and the MAIN reason I'm considering another that's nothing to do with the blog content is because the alternatives are either wholesome things like eliot with hair beads (approximately 0% chance it'll be sufficiently distinctive as an avatar) or they're anton with his entire teeth out.

look,

I'm just trying to spare all of us and especially me.

[sheepkebby]

My friend showed me his L4D2 mods today and he modded Nick to be really fucking small and I'm crying about it

[thatwasntlikeridingabikeuasshole]

Me: damn why when I read old books r ppl always so modest even with their pajamas? Like y'all need dressing gowns and layers and petticoats and shit with ur pjs? Bruh ur only gonna be with ur own family anyway, like shit it's ok Elizabeth the kids can see ur shoulders

Me after buying an old long white nightgown at a thrift store and looking in the mirror: yeah ok this is basically. I am not decent rn

[ceilidho]

prompt: simon notices you in the stands (welder/amateur rugby player au). (nsfw, 1.9k)

-

She’s in the stands again, and he doesn’t know who for. 

The same bird as the time before, and the week before that. Always a few minutes into the match, like she snuck in through the backdoor. She always leaves in a hurry, up and out of her seat with her jacket already tugged on, her strides quick on her way out the main doors. 

In the years since joining this amateur league, Simon’s never been tempted to talk to any of the people in the stands. For the most part, they’re there for one of the other players anyway. Wives, girlfriends, sisters—the odd cousin or fuck buddy, those girls dipping in and out, replaced by newer, sparklier versions of each other, the older ones licked clean. 

His focus narrows when he steps onto the field anyway, shrinks like horse blinders sunk down over his skull. Hardly a reason for him to spare more than a glance towards the stands.

Rugby’s not a sport for spectators. At least, not such a low level league. Barely amateur—just some of the locals with a bit of built up stress and aggression to work off. It’s why he’s here after all. Simon spends the hours of his day hunched over sheets of metal and carbon steel, sweating into the metal mask pulled down over his face and staring without blinking into the heart of the flame just inches from his face. 

His nerves are a closed fist in his chest and it grows and grows until he steps out onto the field of the local rec centre and hears the timer overhead start to count down and feels someone’s chest cave in when he drives his shoulder into their solar plexus, hears the breath whoosh out of them, their next breath in thin and febrile. 

It sets his head right. Violence with no consequences. At the end of the game, he looks the man he just bruised and bloodied in the eye and shakes his hand. Puts the world to rights. 

And he needs nothing more than that. His bills are paid, bloodthirst sated, thirst quenched when the team hits up a pub after the match, after which he slinks off into the night to head home with his hood drawn over his head, the size of him rarely inviting more violence. Occasionally it happens that someone with the bad luck of choosing him to mug wants to prove that they have the bigger cock, but that never ends well. Not for them at least.

Simon would fight for a living if welding paid him less. As it is, he satiates that beast in him on the field or the occasional back alley, and it keeps him in check.

But now there’s a bird in the stands drawing his eye and distracting him from the match. It rubs him the wrong way. The blood pumps through his veins more viciously, and the pretty thing in the stands watches the game completely unaware, a serene smile on her face. His gaze keeps being pulled towards where she and a couple clusters of fans sit and nurse paper cups of tea.

She cups both hands around her tea and he wonders absently whether she’d have to hold his cock the same way. 

It’s Gaz who calls him out on it first, panting hard after the first period and frowning at the scoreboard. “Not to be a dick, but that was bollocks, Simon. Never seen you miss a pass like that.”

Few people could get away with speaking to him like that, but Gaz is right. He’s been playing like shit, too preoccupied by the bird watching him with wide, rapt eyes. 

He doesn’t know how to apologise though, so he doesn’t. “Graves is a useless twat. Can’t throw for shit.”

Gaz rolls his eyes. “Not saying he isn’t, but you’re distracted. Where’s your head at?”

“Stay out of it, Garrick,” he says, not even bothering to meet his gaze, the warning clear in his voice. 

“Sorry for caring,” Gaz shouts after him as Simon jogs away.

He asks around at first, trying to find out if she’s someone’s relative or girl, but all the guys just shrug, no answers. If she’s someone’s, they aren’t staking a claim on her. It’s good news for him. Bad news for anyone else taking an interest in the girl that comes to their every match to cheer them on.

His urges sit deeper than the abyssal plain.

She’d probably turn tail and run if she knew the hunger festering in his belly. She sits sweet and innocent in the stands cheering him on and all Simon can think about is pushing her knees up to her ears and feeding his fat cock into her pussy. Shoving his tongue into her cunt, licking her from hole to hole. Sucking each puffy lip into his mouth until her moans go garbled, eyes unfocused. 

No, Simon thinks when she jumps to her feet enthusiastically at the end of the match, she probably wouldn’t like that. Women rarely do. Objectifying them and all those other terms that Gaz likes to wax on about, Johnny nodding along like he isn’t the same kind of mutt as Simon. 

Even during the day, she troubles his thoughts. Troublemaker. He thinks of her when he cleans and buffs in between passes, mind not lulled into the rhythmic emptiness of usual. Even the sound of steel sizzling in his ears doesn’t clear her from his thoughts. Instead all he can think of is her walking into the shop in a little skirt and top, and dragging her to the back where he’d bend her over the closest desk and pull her panties to the side before sinking in to the hilt, mask still on. 

He’s never gotten his cock wet on the job—never been tempted to. For her though, he’d make an exception. 

By the next match, Simon’s made up his mind. When he sees her sneak in after the match has already started, he feels his blood pump harder, his tackles extra rough. His opponents walk away wincing and cursing him under their breath, but it only makes him preen when he glances over to find her watching him, hardly able to pull her eyes away. Price would call it peacocking. He wouldn’t be wrong. 

He approaches her himself at the end of the match before she’s had time to pack up and leave, leaning over the railing separating the field from the stands, covered in sweat and grass stains and bleeding from his right eyebrow.

She stares up at him wide eyed, looking a little lost for words. “Hi?”

“Got somewhere to be?” he asks, blunt. He’s never had it in him for pleasantries. Why waste time when he can see even now the way her eyes rove over his chest appreciatively? 

“…No,” she finally answers, shaking her head. “Just home for supper.”

“Look like you could use a good fuck. Come round back with me?”

The blatant proposition makes her eyes widen, but Simon doesn’t see the problem. Figures if she doesn’t have a man, there’s no issue with him trying out for the part. He waits her out though, vaguely admiring the pert shape of her mouth, lips round with shock. 

Finally they come back together and she chews on her lower lip nervously, caught off-guard but considering it. He doesn’t hold it against her. His bird’s pretty enough, but he doubts she ever puts herself in the position to be asked. He sees the yes in her eyes before she says it.

Still, he enjoys the way she stutters it out softly, eyes downcast. Simon doesn’t bother with his goodbyes to the guys still on the field before ushering her out of the arena and down the hall to the locker rooms with a hand on her back. He drags her into the first empty supply closet he finds, locking the door behind them. She breathes a bit heavily, almost stumbling over her feet, and that’s the eagerness he’s been looking for. Proof his bird’s just as hungry as him. 

She definitely is, Simon thinks, smug when he hoists her up and her legs wrap around his waist without a second thought, her eyes already glazed over. Like she’s been waiting for this for weeks, cunt already sopping wet when he nudges her panties to the side with his knuckles and buries his cock into her. She grips him like a vice, slack jawed and whimpering into the stretch. He likes that. He likes it more when she digs her nails deep into his back, leaving her mark behind. 

“C’mon, don’t get shy on me,” Simon huffs into her neck when she tries to grab his hair instead, what little of it she can. He stares with eyes half-lidded at the way her tits bounce with each thrust. “I like it rough.”

She clenches up at that, dripping wet. Almost a shame that he couldn’t get his mouth on her first. He’ll have to follow her back home like the mongrel he is, mess her pretty bedsheets up and make her scream until she can’t even face the neighbours the next day. 

He doesn’t need her to tell him to know that she’s a good girl, doesn’t do this ever. Only for him. He can tell by how tight of a screw she is, practically purring in his arms; it’s a fight to bully his cock into her. It’s nice when she stutters it out though, strokes his ego the right way. 

“D-didn’t think you’d notice me,” she says, all shy even with her legs spread. 

“Hard not to, pet,” Simon teases, endeared by her soft edges. His slot right in, if not a bit jaggedly. “Been panting after it for a while, haven’t ya?”

“I just wanted to get out of the flat for a bit,” she whispers.

That shifts his perception of her a bit. Infinitesimally so, but still. He didn’t expect the bird to have a lonely flame in her heart. 

“Well, I noticed,” he grunts, and then bends to suck at the salty skin at the crook of her neck before pumping a load into her.

She’s a real good girl. Comes nice on his cock and muffles her whine by biting into his shoulder. He can’t wait until he’s covered in her bites, until his nipples hurt from making her chew on them and his neck is littered with hickeys like a schoolboy. 

Taking her home is easy enough after that. She lets him drive them both back to her place, handing him the keys with a little yawn when he tucks her into the passenger seat of her own car all limp and pliant. 

And he’s right, of course. He makes a right mess of her bed come morning. 

When he leaves after a morning fuck in the shower and breakfast, the cold sinks into his stomach like a lead weight. The fist in his chest is clenched as ever; Simon hadn’t noticed it loosen in the bird’s presence, but he feels it now drawn tight again. Maybe he thought fucking her would finally shake her from his head, but instead it’s made it worse somehow. The lonely flame in his own chest flickers.

He stands in the middle of the sidewalk and thinks it over while angry nine-to-fivers snap at him before really taking him in and scurrying along. Then he turns back around, heading back the way he came.

The next time Simon sees her in the stands, he feels his smile like a phantom limb. He doesn’t have to ask to know she’s there for him.

[atyourmerci]

I don’t care that you’re a stoner

Ceo!abby

Dr. A.A

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, mean!abby, sub!reader, light bondage (belt), tribbing brrr, talks of strap usage, tribbing breeding kink brrr, degradation, fingering, cum play

A/N: this is technically a drabble but I gave it a title bc that’s what Chappell deserves

◊

Why Dr. Anderson decided to come to you, your pathetic excuse of an ‘office’ instead of your usual frequent visits to hers, was beyond you. Following her around like a dog to her every beck and call. Having to call her doctor since she insisted on getting her doctorate in finance…fucking prick.

Even your credentials, your place in the hierarchy of the company didn’t exclude you from being her little bitch. She seldom gave you the decency of just looking at you when you did her dirty work. Filing her papers, calling her clients, getting her coffee, black of course, like she would drink anything with an ounce of happiness.

She never thanked you. She made it clear where you stood to her, below her. A bleeding, breathing, able-minded body. It could be you, or the next, as long as it was done correctly.

So nice of her as she glares at you from the door of your office that was always open. “What are your plans for tonight?” She says driving her veiny wrists into her slack pockets, her normal intimidating eyes driving into your soul.

“I should be done that paperwork by six, is there something else I need to get to you?”

“After that,” she remarks sternly, as if you should’ve know that, as if that was something she’d ever asked before.

“Uhh go home?” You answer dumbly, utterly confused by her insistence on your personal endeavors.

“Come out with us tonight. We go to max’s down the road,” it was a question with no opportunity for refusal. You didn’t say no to Dr.Anderson.

“Oh I don’t-“ you shake your head before she cuts you off.

“I know I can smell you. Seven. Tonight.”

Sprawled out, aggressively stripped of your outing dress, on her luxurious thousand thread cotton sheets. Dr. Anderson’s Louis Vuitton belt tied around your wrist, her attempt to regain dominance.

Even as she’s panting, muffled curses coming out as pleas as she grinds her soaking cunt against your own. Her clit is so swollen now, after completely abusing your hole. Her pent up arousal seeping into the sticky mess she created with her relentless thrusts earlier.

“Couldn’t fucking stop thinking ‘bout this,” she pants out, rutting into you like a dog in heat, her sticky white cum ruining her precious expensive sheets.

You can’t seem to find words to remark her pathetic admission, so completely fucked out from your previous orgasm.

Kneading your breast in her hand she brings her teeth to your neck, biting down on the thin flesh, sure to leave marks for everyone to see. But that wasn’t enough for her.

“Gonna cum in this needy pussy, let everyone know how much of a whore you are.”

A guttural moan leaves your throat, the thought of her marking you, claiming you as hers.

“Hmm the little slut likes that? Getting used as my fucking cumdump?”

The only thing you can seem to mutter out is a sad ‘mhmm’ as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

A ‘fucking slut’ is heard in the background as you feel her reposition herself, turning herself sideways inbetween your legs, throwing your leg over her shoulder. She reconnects your swollen clits, with the addition of sliding two of her thick fingers back into you. Slipping in with ease, coating her fingers with the mix of pearl slick.

“FUCK,” you come back to your senses at the new sensation, needing to hold onto anything but your hands are still bound by her belt.

“Still so fucking tight, need to stretch her out so it’ll only feel good when I do it.” Her pace beginning to quicken, her hips bucking into your thigh. Her teeth biting into the flesh of your thigh, holding back whimpers of your name.

“B-better take all my cum. Every last drop slut,” she begins losing herself, her thrusts only getting sloppier. Gripping into the flesh of your thighs to stabilize herself, trying to get you off again before herself.

“I-I promise doctor.”

Was what set her off, dropping her head back as her mouth gapes. “fuckfuckholyfuck,” her legs begin to shake, hot white cream dripping out of her pulsing hole, dripping down your clit and finding its home in your own twitching abandoned hole.

Huffing out as she regains her stability, realizing she’s losing time, her cum dripping down to her sheets and spreading. Not where she needed it.

She takes her fingers back to your cunt, scooping up what’s left, pushing it deep inside of you and keeping them as far as she can get.

“This is what you wanted huh? Nasty fucking mess stuffed with my cum,” she says with a grin of the devil herself. So pleased seeing you so dumb for her, another level of submission she could coax you into.

You give a pathetic nod, feeling her cum painting your walls as she’s deep in your cervix. She begins giving tantalizing licks to your clit as she watches your chest rise and fall.

“Abby please-“

Before you could finish you feel a rough grab on your belt adorned wrists, pulling you up to face her.

“Get the rest you missed.” She says pulling you down into the sheets, your mouth opening instinctively. Licking the cum soaked cotton sheets as she watches you from below her.

Once she’s satisfied she grips your jaw in her hand, guiding your gaze to her soaking cunt, still dripping with the mix of both of your orgasms-

“Every. Last. Drop.”

[ghostfacd]

THIN LINE

based on this thought

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

genre: fluff, a bit of angst, descriptions of killing, they’re like in love ig, ooc!snow (he’s still crazy LMAO), SPOILERS for the ballad of the songbirds & snakes, Snow and reader being disgustingly touchy 💀

summary: in which there is a thin line in between yours and coriolanus’ friendship and something more, leading to a sudden shift in your dynamic

“Coryo! I passed! Coryo!” You shriek in excitement as Casca Highbottom passes one of your papers back. It had taken quite your strength when you were given the task to make new proposals and implements for the new Hunger Games, crying to your best friend Coriolanus about how you’ll never get it done on time.

“Oh yeah?” He asks, looking over at your paper. There was a bright red A+ along with the sloppy cursive writing of Good Job Miss. L/N!

“Good job,” Coriolanus says, snaking his arms over to pull you back into his chest, placing a sloppy but soft kiss on your cheek. “Knew you had it in you.”

The scene makes Arachne Crane let out a moan of disgust, rolling her eyes as she turned to another corner.

“What’s wrong Arachne?” One of her friends asked, and she only points to the two of you, who were too engrossed in each other to notice.

“Snow and L/N, are we even surprised?” Livia let out a huff of irritation.

When Casca Highbottom announced that you all will be meeting in the largest room of the Academy, you thought it was to finally announce the winner of the Plinth prize. The only rightful ones were you and Coriolanus, anyway. And maybe Sejanus, the boy whom you’ve gotten soft for these past few days.

You and Coriolanus entered arm in arm, avoxes had wove through the crowd of students with trays of posca, a concoction of watery wine laced with herbs and honey.

Coriolanus quickly grabbed two goblets, handing one to you and then chugging it quickly down his throat. For a minute, it burned.

“Oh there you two are,” Arachne waves you over, her face gloomy. “Obviously, no amount of bribing would make Sejanus tell me who won the prize. Not like it matters, we all know I deserve it most.”

There was an eye roll from Felix Ravinstill. “Sure Arachne, and I’m the richest man on the planet.”

That earned him a scowl from the girl, who then turned her attention to Sejanus. “He can have as much money as he wants, but he’ll always be district, you know.”

A few of your classmates laugh, nodding in bitter agreement as they watched Sejanus conversing with one of the professors.

“Right.” Coriolanus mumbles, surprising you. He hadn’t ever agreed with Arachne before—calling her a psychopath even—so why was he now?

“Oh please,” the girl snaps back. “You and Y/N are friends with him.”

“We tolerate him,” Coriolanus says, his hand that was holding yours became tighter. “He’s district.”

When Sejanus comes, the murmur of your classmates grows silent, and from the looks of it, he could already tell they weren’t saying much good about him.

“It’s time to assign the tributes.” Is all he says, motioning to Dean Highbottom.

“As you all know, the Plinth prize and money would usually go to the student with the highest mark,” Highbottom begins, clearing his throat. “But this year, we’d like to do something different.”

You can tell Coriolanus has stiffened in his seat. Even though you want to hold his hand and caress it, you know you can’t, so you keep your desire inside.

“Whoever is the best mentor among all of you will be able to win the Plinth prize.”

“Oh that is not fair!” Livia complains. “What if I get some poor weak district girl and she dies 2 minutes in the games?”

“It’s not just about your tribute winning,” Highbottom says, “you will be assessed.”

You and Coriolanus sit through the announcement of which mentor gets which tribute. You had gotten Coral, a girl from District 4 while Coriolanus had gotten the girl from 12. Lucy Gray Baird, apparently.

“Hey, you okay?” You say as you two stepped out from the Academy. “Look at me Coryo.”

He looks up from the ground, his eyebrows furrowed and his face upset.

“He hates me.” He says, referring to Dean Highbottom. “Always has, always will. Gave me the worst district of them all.”

“Hey,” you say, cradling his face as your eyes quickly scanned his. “Don’t say that. We saw Lucy Gray on stage, she can sing and she sure as hell can put on a charismatic personality for the crowd. You’ll be okay, Coryo.”

“I don’t know,”

This was the first time you saw Coriolanus so upset, so lost in his thought. Without a second thought, you pulled his head towards you, giving him a long kiss on his jawline.

“Sleepover tonight?” You ask as you pull away.

“Sure, I just have to tell Tigris first.”

That night, you and Coriolanus talk about your futures under your warm white covers, limbs tangling one another.

“Do you ever want kids, Coryo?” You ask, saying anything that came to your mind.

“Maybe.” He replies. “Only if I find a girl as worthy as you.”

His words make you smile, pulling him closer to your body. “As worthy as me?”

“Mhm. Or else I’d marry out of convenience. For profit. To ensure no one takes advantage of me.”

You shake your head, placing a small kiss on his forehead. “I hope that never happens, Coryo.”

“I hope it never does either.”

You turn over to turn off your nightlight, snuggling yourself under the covers as Coriolanus throws an arm around your frame.

“Goodnight Coryo.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

- - -

After Coriolanus’ little involvement in the tribute cage, Highbottom, to say the least, was unimpressed. He claimed Coriolanus was breaking many of the Academy rules, including endangering an Academy student. However, he agreed to let the mentors visit their tributes and offer them water or food.

You were talking to Coral, handling her a glass bottle filled with water. If you couldn’t get her out of here, the least you could do is hydrate and feed her.

You turn to look at Arachne, who was busy swinging water in front of her tribute. Her tribute almost looked pitiful as the bottle always seemed to swing out of her reach.

Coriolanus was talking to Lucy Gray, a little too close for your liking, but you knew it was just to discuss strategies.

“You think you’re gonna make it in the arena?” You ask Coral, who only glared at you, taking small sips of water at a time.

“Hey.” Coriolanus suddenly comes up from behind you, once again wrapping his arms around your shoulders before bringing your face in for a long kiss on the cheek.

“Hi,” you giggle, continuing to hold on him as you turned your entire body to face him.

Coral let out a scowl of disgust, eyeing you and Coriolanus up and down.

“Coral, meet my friend, Coriolanus Snow. He’s Lucy Gray’s mentor.” You say, pointing at the girl who was currently talking to another tribute; Jessup, you think his name is.

Coral doesn’t respond, only continuing to snarl at the two of you.

“They’re like wild animals,” Coriolanus whispers in your ear.

“Hey pretty boy,” she finally speaks, smirking from ear to ear. “You were on the truck earlier.”

“I was,” he replied curtly.

“Maybe I can’t kill you—but I’ll definitely kill your tribute.”

Before you could hold Coriolanus back from jumping at Coral, you all hear a scream.

Arachne’s tribute had somehow managed to grab the bottle of water, smashing it against the metal cage and stabbing Arachne directly in the throat with it.

“Oh my god!” You scream, running over to the girl. Although you and Coriolanus disliked her, she was still your classmate, and someone who you spoke to on a regular basis.

“You two, off.” The peacekeepers say, grabbing ahold of you and Coriolanus; dragging you away from the scene.

- - -

The walk to Coriolanus’s home was quiet, aside from occasional twig snapping and leaves falling.

“I’m scared,” you finally say, staring up at Coriolanus. His icy blue eyes bore into yours before they softened.

“I know,” he says, cupping your head in his hands. “I know you’re scared, that should’ve never happened.”

“But it did,” you say, placing your hands into Coriolanus’s coat to keep them warm. “What if it happens to us next, Coryo?”

“Hey.” Coriolanus’s face is only a meter away from yours, lips almost touching. “I’ll never let that happen to you, do you understand? As long as I’m alive, no one will hurt you.”

You nod, a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Coriolanus wipes away your tears with his thumb, one of his fingers caressed your cheek lightly. “They’ll have to shoot me dead before anything can happen to you.”

And before you could let out another one of your worries, Coriolanus leans in, placing a much awaited kiss on your lips. He pulls away for air after a minute, forehead against yours.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll never let anyone hurt you, ever.”

[moonstruckme]

If you don’t mind what about poly!marauders (emts version) x reader where she hides a injury that’s kinda serious (idk like a cut that’s pretty deep or smth) but she doesn’t think it’s serious, so she tries to hide it from them to not feel like a burden since they are always busy with work. Basically just a mix of emts marauders and casual dominance

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: mention of blood

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You’re trying to figure out whether putting your shoe in the washing machine will damage it irrevocably when the bathroom door handle twists. 

You look up like a deer caught in headlights. Sirius’ gaze flits from the shoe in your hand to the bloodstained sock on the floor to your wide-eyed look. 

“Shut the door!” you whisper-yell. He must be reeling, because he actually does it, closing the door with a click and dropping down beside you on the bathroom floor. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. Again, his gaze goes to your once-blue sock, now marred by a dark red stain. “Are you hurt?” 

You see the moment Sirius notices the foot you’re holding, layers of toilet paper wrapped loosely around the arch. His eyes sharpen. 

“Don’t tell James and Remus,” you plead. 

“Are you hurt?” he asks again, sternly now. 

Your lip finds it way beneath your teeth. “Not really,” you say. “It’s not terrible or anything, I just can’t get it to stop bleeding.” 

“That’s not usually a great sign, sweetheart.” Sirius scoots closer, holding out his hands. “Let me see.” 

You know better than to argue, transferring your foot into his lap. He gives you an odd look about the toilet paper before starting to unravel it, the thin material tearing under his rushed handling. Your boyfriend relaxes slightly when the wound is revealed. It’s deceptively small for how much blood seems to come out of it, the cut only a couple of centimeters along the arch of your foot. 

Sirius adjusts his grip, lifting it to the light to see it better, and you try not to look so visibly flustered at the tender way he’s handling you. 

“It’s little, see?” you say. “No need to bother anyone else.” 

He lowers your foot to give you an amused look. “Darling, as much as I love to have our dirty little secrets together,” he says, “you know they’d kill me.” 

“They wouldn’t,” you say, half desperate. “They love you, and I’ll protect you anyway.” 

Sirius’ mouth pinches. He thumbs at your ankle apologetically. “James would have us both flat on our backs in under a minute. Admire your confidence, though.” He sucks in a breath. “Rem, James!” 

The TV shuts off, and then there are footsteps on the stairs. Sirius is impervious to your glare, only picking your foot up again and turning it this way and that to see it better. 

“What?” James calls. You can hear Remus grumbling about how your apartment is hardly large enough to necessitate this much yelling. 

“In here!” Sirius shouts back. 

The door opens a second later, your other two boyfriends crowding the already small bathroom. James is crouched in an instant, setting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder to steady himself. 

“Oh, lovie, what’d you do?” 

You open your mouth to respond, but Sirius says, “Can one of you grab the first aid kit and a pen light? I can’t see if there’s anything still in here.”

“There shouldn’t be,” you say as Remus goes for the kit. “I already took out the glass.” 

Both Sirius and James look up from your foot, eyebrows raised. 

“And what were you doing that you ended up with glass in your foot?” Sirius asks. 

Your shoulders gravitate towards your ears. “Cleaning up the glass that I broke.” 

Remus hums disapprovingly as he passes a pen light to Sirius, who clicks it on, shining it onto your foot. You do your best to pretend this doesn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin. 

“When did that happen?” he asks. 

“This morning.” 

“Sweetheart.” James’ disapproval is evident in his voice. You can’t bring yourself to look up and witness it in his face, too. 

“And why didn’t you say anything when you hurt yourself?” Remus asks. He sits down beside you, eyes on what the other two are doing though you can feel his attention on you. 

“Because I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly. 

He tsks, and he doesn’t need to say anything more. It’s plain enough you’re in trouble. 

For a few moments, the silence is thick and hot, torturous, but surprisingly it's Sirius who does you the mercy of putting you out of your misery. 

“It doesn’t look like you’ve got any more glass in here.” He clicks off the pen light, and your hamstrings sigh in relief as he lowers your foot to rest back in his lap. “That’s lucky,” he tells you severely. “You can’t always rely on just picking out the big piece and having that be that.” 

“Stitches?” Remus asks, and you tense. You hadn’t even considered that. 

“I don’t think so,” Sirius says, but he sounds uncertain. “It’s just barely deep enough, though.” 

“Let’s see.” James holds out his hands, and Sirius hands it off to him. You try to ignore the fact that your foot is being passed around like something a child brought to show-and-tell. James takes up the pen light, peering at it for a few moments before nodding decisively. He pats the side of your foot. “I think you should be safe.” 

You must look as relieved as you feel, because James smiles, squeezing up the length of your calf. 

“What I really don’t understand,” he says lightly, “is why the hell you’ve been keeping it wrapped in toilet paper.” 

You can’t help but return his smile sheepishly as you shrug. “It works,” you say. “Plus, Remus gatekeeps the first aid kit.” 

“It’s only in the cabinet above the toilet,” Remus sighs. 

Sirius scoffs, and James across you to pat him on the thigh. “No one can reach it up there but you, love.” 

You look over in time to catch your boyfriend’s eye roll, paired with the smirk he tries to hide. “Regardless,” he says, “it seems as though it wouldn’t be an issue if anyone who can’t reach it,” his eyes slide to yours, and you find new interest in the floor tiles, “would just ask someone else to get it for them, rather than being secretive.” You can feel his gaze searing into the side of your head, but you refuse to look up even when Sirius snickers and pinches your leg meanly. “If you didn’t have the kit, how did you clean it, dove?” 

“It’s clean,” you hedge, but make the mistake of looking up into Sirius’ stern gaze. He cocks an eyebrow as if to say Go on. “I ran it under the tap in the bathtub.” 

Remus sighs, Sirius groans, and James lets his head fall fully forward onto your knee. 

“Sweetheart,” James presses a kiss to your shin, “my love, I know you mean well, but this is why you need to tell us things.” 

“What’s the problem?” you ask as Remus moves to sit by Sirius, opening up the first aid kit. “Water’s just as good.” 

“It’s really not,” Sirius says, “seeing as antiseptic kills bacteria and water doesn’t. Do you want to stay where you are or sit up on the counter, darling?” 

“I’ve got a better idea.” James scooches over by you, lifting you by your waist and setting you in his lap. “There. Far more comfortable, don’t you think?” 

“Much.” You grin, turning your head to kiss him. “Thanks, Jamie.” 

“Spent a whole day keeping secrets and still getting the princess treatment.” Sirius’ tone is equal parts teasing and affectionate as he smooths a hand up and down your calf. “We must really love you or something.”

[scoutswritingcorner]

Formal Disappearance

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW: None

Song(s) I was listening to: Head Over Heels/Broken by Tears for Fears

A/N: I want more flustered Alastor guys. If I have to make it so be- Let me fluster the deer man.

Alastor looked around the room as Charlie explained her new “bonding exercise”, his gaze sweeping over the crew that was all here..Something was missing- No, someone was missing from the gathering. His sweet Doe was missing, how did he not notice this earlier? In fact he hasn’t seen you all day. The last time he saw you was last night when you were hiding your reddened face as you laughed at his joke. His ever wandering eyes snapping towards Husk causing the old tom cat to flinch and bristle up causing his smile to flicker for a second, before grinning wider. Oh, he knew something. “Husker, my dearest friend, do you have something to share with me?” Alastor tilted his head as he turned to face the bartender.

“Me? Nope, I don’t have anything to say.” Husk responded not meeting his eyes. Alastor’s eye twitched as his ears fell back against his head, his clawed finger tapping on his cane. His patience was running thin, he hated being apart from you for this long. But he would never mutter it out to a soul, his pride was far too big for that. “Know what?” Charlie asked, smiling tensely, she hoped this wouldn’t turn into a whole thing. Alastor glanced at her but didn’t answer her as Husk flinched from his sharp gaze. “They had to go do something for their job.” Husk answered quickly causing Angel to smirk, “They looked smoking, Smiles. You should’ve seen them before they left.” The comment made Alastor snap his neck back towards Angel Dust who flinched and backed away muttering an apology.

“Oh! They had a huge formal event for their job today, that’s why they aren’t here right now. They had left early in the morning while you were doing a broadcast. They didn’t want to bother you but they said they left a note in your room.” Charlie explained clapping her hands together causing Alastor to hum loudly, so that’s what the note was for this morning. Well, what’s a few more hours without you by his side? He wasn’t desperate for your attention,

~~~~~

It had been four hours (possibly even more) since you had been gone and Alastor was struggling to even be near the others, his temper was getting to him and he missed you oh so dearly. He missed your smile and how your voice seemed to travel through the hotel like one of his favorite songs. He couldn’t even focus on the paper in front of him, what was keeping you this long at this so called formal event? He let out a soft growl watching as his own shadow pulled his focus on the wall in front of him. A lovestruck smile on the pesky shadow as it pointed towards the foyer of the Hotel. He stared at the shadow with an eyebrow raised confused on why his own shadow was acting like this.

Then like a siren song piercing through the silence he heard your voice echo, “I’m sorry, Charlie. I didn’t expect it to take that long. I thought it would be an hour or two at best.” Your voice echoed down to the parlor causing him to immediately stand up from his spot on the armchair in front of the fireplace. His ears happily flickering as he heard your precious laughter echo after a few seconds of soft whispers. He hurriedly made his way towards the front foyer of the Hotel ignoring how his Shadow dashed after his long strides. If his undead heart could beat, it would surely be racing at this point just at the thought of seeing you after hours, his tense smile now becoming relaxed at hearing your voice.

Looking up from the bottle of water in your hand at the shadow of your boyfriend curling around your own before. “Dearest!~ There you are and here I thought you had run away fro-” His voice stopped suddenly like a broken record as he gazed at your form. How absolutely darling you looked all dressed up. How your outfit clung to you from the necklace you were wearing (specifically the one he had gotten you a few weeks back) complimented your whole outfit perfectly. 

A dark red blush creeped up his neck to his cheeks as his ears laid back on his head. Noticing how you stared at him, a small smirk on your lips as you tilted your head. “What’s wrong, Dear? Don’t you like my outfit?” You teased, causing him to look away with a dark blush coating his cheeks and glaring at the wall as if it offended him. Angel snickered and turned his gaze back to Husk, “I think Smiles adores it a little too much, Toots.” An almost feral snarl leaving your Beau’s lips at hearing Angel point that out. You walked closer, holding your hand out to him. “Don’t worry, Dear. I saved one last dance for you.”

Alastor looked down at you, blush still prominent on his cheeks but he grabbed your hand and leaned down to kiss your knuckles, “Only if you’d have me, Cher.” He whispered out only for you to hear. A soft smile gracing your lips, you nodded at his request. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dear.” He swore his tail was about to create a hole in his jacket from the way it wagged so fast, linking your arms together he walked you to another part of the hotel to dance the night away.

[fallinforgyu]

steamroller

pairing: mingi/fem!reader

genre: childhood best friends to lovers, college au, angst, smut - minors do NOT interact

warnings: no dom/sub dynamic, unrequited love, mutual loss of virginity, mingi has a massive cock, fingering, oral sex (f. recieving)

word count: 10k

a/n: i want to be honest with you guys, this is not a comeback. this is just a little fic that i’ve been working on for the past year or so that has brought me a lot of comfort, and i hope that it can do the same for you. i’m not sure if i’ll ever be active on this blog like i used to be, but please know that i will always be a writer and i will always read every single comment, reblog, and note that is sent to me. thank you for being my readers. i love you all so so dearly <3

“Hey, Mingi,” Yunho asked, staring at his distorted reflection in the back of a flimsy dining hall spoon, “Have you ever eaten a girl out before?”

 “W-What the fuck?” Mingi choked on his homemade sandwich. “Why would you ask me that?”

 “Because I want to go down on my girl on our next date…” he dropped the spoon on his tray, frowning as it clanged. “We’ve already fucked but I think it’ll be a nice way to show her I really care, you know? But I’ve never done it before.”

 “Wait-” Mingi dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning forward across the table. “You’ve had sex before?” 

 “You haven’t?” Yunho grinned.

 “Of course I haven’t, asshole! Why didn’t you tell me?”

 Yunho shrugged. “Guess I just didn’t think it was that important. What time’s your next class?” 

 “I’m done with classes for the day,” Mingi crumbled the tin foil that previously held his sandwich into a ball. “Yours is at 2:30, right?” 

 The older boy nodded and the two stood up, making their way to the nearest trash can.

 “Besides,” Yunho placed his tray on top of a growing stack of them while Mingi threw away his brown paper bag. “I thought you would’ve already fucked that girl you’re always with by now. What was her name again?”

 Mingi’s eyes widened as your name slipped past Yunho’s lips. “Sh!” he hissed, looking over his shoulder. “I told you to stop asking about her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

 “But you haven’t even tried!”

 “Yes, I have!”

 “Giving her a warm Tootsie Roll that had been sitting in your pocket all day does not count as trying.”

 “But I gave it to her on Valentine’s Day!” Mingi whined. “That counts for something, right?”

 He reluctantly met Yunho’s eyes, groaning when he saw his friend’s lips pressed into a thin line and his head shaking. 

 “You’ve gotta just tell her, dude. You’re never gonna know if you don’t try.” 

 He knew Yunho was right. If he ever wanted anything to change, he’d have to talk to you. Otherwise, he’d spend his entire life wondering what would’ve happened if he would’ve just had the balls to tell you. 

 He’d do it today, he decided, when he met you at your usual spot to walk back to your dorms together. That way, he could just run home if you said you didn’t feel the same way! Perfect plan. 

Mingi wiped his hands on his pants as he walked to your usual meeting spot, attempting to calm himself down and hype himself up at the same time. 

 He was really going to do it now; he was going to spill his heart out and hope that you somehow ended up in his arms. He’d start with how he’d loved you since you were kids when you took swim lessons with him at the community pool. You jumped right in the water when he was too afraid to duck his head underneath, and he remembered wanting to be brave like you. He loved you in middle school when you noticed him struggling with his math homework and offered to help. He loved you when you introduced him to Yunho, your friend from the student council who would end up becoming his best friend. And he loved you two years later, when he read your summer reading book aloud to you because staring at the pages made you sleepy. 

 He loved you last year when you went to prom together, even when you made a point of announcing to the rest of your group that the two of you were “Just really good friends.”

 Oh, well. He loved you when he gave you that Tootsie Roll three months ago, too.

 And he loved you now, when he approached you slowly and timidly, waving his hand to get you to look up from your phone.

 “Oh, hi,” you grinned, pulling the earbuds out of your ears.

 “Hi,” he smiled. 

 “How was… how was your day?” You asked the same question you always asked when you saw him, but it sounded different this time. It was like an exhale; Like you were breathing the words instead of speaking them. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought you were nervous. 

 “Good,” he nodded, gripping the straps of his backpack.

 “Good!” You repeated, clasping your hands together. “So…”

 He braced himself to say it. I’m in love with you. I have been ever since we were kids. I don’t want to be your friend, I want to kiss you.

 But you spoke first, and you said, “I think we should have sex.”

 He thought that he was having a stroke. He thought that you were having a stroke. “W-what did you say?”

 “Hear me out,” you waved your hands and closed your eyes. “We’re the last virgins in our friend group, right? And everyone thinks we’ve already fucked, anyway. So we could just do it together and get it over with so that it’s not as big of a deal when we do it with other people!”

 “I don’t…” His face felt like it was on fire. His stomach burned, and his palms were even sweatier than before. Get it over with?

 You sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped that on you so fast. I’ve just been thinking about it for a few weeks now, and…”

 Your voice turned into a murmur in the back of his mind as he analyzed your words. Been thinking about it for weeks now? Thinking about…

 “But you don’t have to decide now, okay? I just wanted to see if you would be up for it.”

 He slowly blinked and nodded back like an idiot. “O-okay. Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

 You nudged his shoulder with yours as you stood up to walk home with him, down the streets of the campus that had been home to you for the past nine months. “And there’s no pressure, alright? You can say I’m gross and you see me like a sister and I won’t be mad,” you laughed.

 You’re beautiful. I want you to be my girlfriend.

 “I’ll think about it,” he repeated.

 “Cool,” you nodded. “How’d that stats test go?”

You felt sick when you tried to go to sleep that night, nauseated with the thought that you might’ve just ruined everything. 

 You didn’t mean for it to come out so fast. You didn’t mean to make him embarrassed. You only meant to present the idea to him; a sort of business proposal that would benefit the both of you before you went back home for the summer.

 None of your friends were virgins anymore. Only you and Mingi were left, and you’d known each other the longest, anyway. 

 You turned in bed to stare at the pictures of the two of you taped to the collage on your wall. He stood next to you in a cheap rental tuxedo at prom, his mouth pulled into a gummy smile and his arm linked with yours. In another picture, he stood three inches away from you at your middle school graduation, a reminder of the awkward phase the two of you went through when you realized that he was a boy and you were a girl. 

 But there were pictures from before that time, too, like the one of the two of you covered in nasty, artificially-colored green frosting from the cake at Mingi’s Incredible Hulk-themed birthday party in 2005. Or the two of you dressed up as Cosmo and Wanda from Fairly Odd Parents for Halloween in fourth grade. 

 Your oldest friend. The person who’d seen you through every phase of your life – even your emo phase in seventh grade – and stuck by you nonetheless. 

 You thought of his full lips and his broad shoulders, his big hands. He was handsome, there was absolutely no arguing that, but he was also kind and gentle and sweet. He was always the first to notice when something was wrong and the last to believe you when you told him you were fine. 

 Being his lover would be amazing, but not if it meant you couldn’t be his friend anymore. You wouldn’t fall unless he asked you to because losing him wasn’t an option.

 You’d tell him tomorrow to forget it. That it was stupid, and you changed your mind. 

Mingi told Yunho about it at lunch the next day. 

 “She talked to me yesterday,” he mumbled, picking the peel off of a clementine.

 “And? What’d she say?” Yunho leaned forward, anticipating Mingi’s answer.

 “She wants to fuck me.”

 Yunho let out a laugh of disbelief. “Don’t play with me right now.”

 “She does! She said, and I quote, ‘I think we should have sex.’”

 “Well,” Yunho chuffed, “There you go, buddy! I told you all you had to do was talk to her!”

 Mingi knew he didn’t really talk to you. He knew he just listened (well, half-listened, half daydreamed about what losing his virginity to you would be like) while you gabbed on about how it was a win-win situation.

 But Yunho seemed so happy… No, proud of him. His validation made Mingi feel good – like this was the right decision.

 “So, when are you going to do it?” Yunho squeezed a gluttonous amount of ketchup on his dry chicken patty.

 Mingi stared at his Ziploc bag of slightly brown apple slices. “Well… I haven’t really told her I’d do it yet.” 

 “What? Why not?”

 “I just didn’t know if it was right…”

 “The girl that you’ve been in love with since you were a kid wants to give you her virginity and take yours at the same time, and you don’t know if it’s right?”

 Mingi smiled. “Yeah… I know.”

 “Tell her today. I bet you’ll do it before you go home for the summer if you tell her today.”

 “Okay, yeah.” Mingi nodded, feeling more sure of himself. “I’ll tell her today.”

You had headphones in when you waited for Mingi after school, but you weren’t listening to any music. There was already too much buzzing around in your head, and music would only overwhelm you even more.

 You chewed on your nailbeds and rehearsed your script in your head. Hey, I was way off base yesterday. That was weird and I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. Let’s just pretend it never happened and enjoy the summer, okay?

 You saw his sneakers first. They were clean, exactly how they looked when he bought them four months ago. 

 He was smiling when you looked up.

 “Let’s do it.”

 “Wait… really?” You tilted your head to the side, trying not to stare at his lips.

 “Yeah. You were right, it just makes sense for us to do it together.” His cheeks were pink.

 You slowly nodded, trying to convince yourself that it was a good idea again. “Right. Yeah… yeah, it makes sense.” You clapped your hands together. “Well! It’s settled then! Is Yunho leaving town anytime soon?”

 “I don’t… I don’t think so?” 

 You stood up to begin your walk home, and Mingi followed suit.

 “Well,” you sighed. “My roommates are probably home, but we should be fine if we’re quiet.”

 Mingi stumbled a bit as he walked. “Wait, we’re doing this right now? Like, literally right now?”

 “No!” you turned your head towards him as you spoke, but you didn’t look him in the eye. “But don’t you think we should do other stuff first? And like… work up to the big thing?”

 “Other stuff?”

 “Just to warm us up. You know, so it won’t be as scary when we…” You pictured Mingi naked and on top of you, his eyebrows furrowed and his pretty lips parted in a moan. You cleared your throat. “You know.”

 “O-okay,” he nodded. “Okay, yeah.”

 Mingi sat on your bed with his hands tucked underneath his thighs to hide how badly they were shaking. He looked around the room, jealous of your full-size bed. He and Yunho were in a shared room dorm, and his feet always hung off the end of his twin mattress. 

 Meanwhile, you scrolled through your phone to find a good playlist. You hit shuffle on the first one that suited your taste and a familiar song tumbled out of your cheap Bluetooth speaker.

 “You’ve kissed someone before, right?” You put your phone on your desk and walked to your bed.

 “Yes,” he nodded. 

 You narrowed your eyes at him. “Who?”

 He squirmed, adjusting his hands under his thighs. “My lab partner in ninth grade. She felt me up under the bleachers.” I was thinking about you the whole time, his internal monologue chimed in, the words never making it past his lips.

 “Gross,” you laughed, sitting on your bed. “Just let me lead, okay? Try to mirror what I do.”

 You reached up to hold his jaw, and his entire body stiffened.

 “Hey.” You waved your hand in front of his face. “Don’t be nervous, Ming. It’s just me. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want t–”

 “I want to!” He interrupted. “Please. I really want to. I’m just nervous.”

 You rested both your hands on his shoulders. “It’s just me,” you repeated. “The same me that I’ve always been.”

 Yeah, he thought, that’s the problem.

 “Just follow my lead.” You gave him an encouraging smile, which he weakly returned. “It’ll be fun, okay?”

 Mingi nodded, closed his eyes, and held his breath. A few seconds later, he felt your lips against his, and they were even softer than he imagined. He was sure that his were chapped, and he regretted not wearing lip balm more often like his mom always told him to.

 “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

 He opened his eyes at the sound of your voice and gave you a tiny shake of his head.

 “Do you want another one?” You smiled. 

 “Yes, please,” he whispered.

 You kissed him again, a little bit longer this time. Your lips naturally slotted with his, and butterflies filled his tummy when you rested your hand on his thigh.

 And then your lips parted. He wasn’t sure what to do other than follow your lead like you’d told him to, so he let his lips part, as well.

 His breath caught in his throat when your hand slid down to his neck. He barely had time to recover before you slipped your tongue in his mouth, playful and teasing and light. 

 “O-oh,” he breathed, a shiver running through his body.

 “How was that?” 

 “Good. I liked… I liked the part when you used your tongue.”

 “Shut up,” you laughed. “You wanna… keep going?”

 “Yes,” he nodded.

 And that was how Mingi had his first makeout session with his childhood best friend. He tried to keep his whimpers to a minimum, but it was hard to when your kisses progressively got more heated. Your tongue in his mouth was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and he blushed at your giggle when he tried to mirror your movements.

 “Such a fast learner, Ming.”

 “T-thanks…”

 “You know you can touch me, right? You don’t have to sit on your hands.”

 He looked down, completely unaware that his hands were still tucked underneath his thighs. They were both numb now, and they tingled when he pulled them up. He flexed and relaxed them to get his blood flowing again.

 “I’ve never…” he whispered, “I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know where to touch.”

 You gave him a smile laced with what might have been pity and took his big hand in yours, moving it to rest on your hip.

 “What about the other one?” He whispered, even quieter than before.

 And then you were lifting his other hand and placing it on your cheek. His breath caught in his throat again.

 It’s strange to truly look at someone whose face has always been a constant in your life. You looked different, but also the same. People change, but they don’t. 

 Mingi was sure of one thing: your face was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He liked it ten years ago, and he liked it now.

 He kissed you first the next time. And since he’d gotten a little more confident, he let his lips part and used his tongue first, too. He kept his hands where you’d placed them and you kept yours around his neck. You kissed and kissed and kissed, and for now, that was enough.

It didn’t stay enough for long. You and Mingi practically ran to your dorm after school every day, barely taking time to breathe before attaching your mouths together once your door was shut. Your obsession with Mingi’s lips had only grown since you started spending most of your free time kissing them.

 His hands were nice, too. They’d gotten a little bit more curious since that day, sometimes giving your hip a gentle squeeze or moving up to your waist while he kissed you. Any noise you’d make would immediately be met with a “sorry” – a constant reminder that no matter how attractive the boy you were making out with was, he was still just the same old Mingi.

 And the little reactions he’d make were precious. He’d gasp when you touched his thighs, he’d hum when you stroked his neck, he’d whimper when you took his plump bottom lip between your teeth. The more you worked him up, the luckier you felt to have been the only person to have ever seen him like this. 

 You wondered how that could be while you sucked his lips. Plenty of girls had crushed on Mingi over the years. You knew because they’d always ask you if you were his girlfriend before they tried to confess to him. No matter how many times you told them you weren’t, he never ended up dating any of them.

 You detached from his lips with a smack. “Mingi?”

 “Mm?” He blinked, eyes slightly glazed over and lips swollen from kisses.

 “Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before?”

 His eyes widened for a split second, and he tried to cover it up by blinking a few times. “Uh… just never met the right person, I guess.”

 “But girls have been throwing themselves at you for years… You didn’t ever want to try anything with them?”

 “Guess I just wanted to wait for someone that I really…” he swallowed. “Trust.”

 That made sense. The thought of doing all of these things with a stranger was horrifying, but you felt safe with Mingi. You smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth.

  “I trust you too, Ming. Wanna try something new?”

 “O-okay, yeah.”

 You tapped his shoulder twice. “Lay down.”

 Like a puppy who’d just been given a command, he lowered himself against your pillows, swinging his legs up so he was laying on the bed. You swung a leg over his hips to straddle them, and his eyes immediately widened. 

 You’d never really taken time to admire how pretty Mingi was. His chest, which was more toned than you’d realized, was swelling and deflating as he attempted to stabilize his breathing. His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed, and you’d be stupid to not notice the way his thick thighs tensed and relaxed underneath his black jeans. 

 And then you leaned down, hovering over him to study his face. You ran your thumb over his sharp jaw as you took in his other features; The same darkness in his eyes that wasn’t mysterious, but warm and inviting. The straight line of his nose, the pointed tip of it. The birthmark under his eye, the one on his cheek, the acne scars that dotted his cheeks like stars. Those fucking lips.

 Mingi was really fucking cute. Had he always been?

 You kissed him again, smiling when a little whimper escaped his lips. 

 “Cute,” you mumbled, unaware that the word had left your mouth until it was too late.

 Or maybe it was a good thing that you said it. Mingi’s response was enough to make you think that, at least. He moaned again, louder this time, as he pushed his hips forward against yours. 

 Mingi always got hard during your makeout sessions, but you always pretended not to notice to spare him from any embarrassment. However, pretending not to notice was incredibly difficult with his bulge grinding against your heat.

 He moaned at the stimulation, but quickly interrupted himself. “Ooh-sorry! I’m so sorry, that wasn’t on purpo–”

 You clapped a hand over his mouth. “I told you we have to be quiet.”

 He nodded, eyes wide as your hand stayed pressed to his mouth. You slid it down to rest on his chest when you whispered in his ear. “Don’t be sorry. That’s what I wanted to try.”

 You pushed and pulled your hips against his erection again in one experimental thrust, grinning when his eyes screwed shut and his lips pressed together. You cupped his face to guide his lips to yours again.

 It was as uncoordinated as two virgins could be. Though your lips easily moved together from a week of practice, neither of your hips were skilled enough to set any sort of rhythm. You just desperately grabbed at each other, groping and humping and kissing like your lives depended on it. 

 Soon, you could feel your soaking panties uncomfortably sticking to your core. The fabric gave you the tiniest bit of stimulation, dragging against your clit and ever-so-slightly teasing you. And the boy underneath you was driving you insane, with his messy kisses and his tiny groans. 

 You didn’t know what the end goal was, but you knew that it felt better when you grinded your hips faster, so that’s what you did. 

 “Ah-” You silenced Mingi’s moan by pressing your mouth to his again, sighing as he hummed against your lips.

 And then he whimpered your name. He’d said your name a thousand times before, but he’d never said it like this. Like it was a cry for help, a desperate plea for something. The sound fueled the fire of your desperation as you continued moving your hips, hoping to God that he’d say it again.

 And he did. You attached your lips to his neck and he whined your name once more, followed by a tiny breath of, “O-oh, god…”

 His little sounds were getting better and better. Your name slipped past his lips between breathy whimpers and choked hums, and you kept licking and sucking his neck while you grinded your clothed, soaking pussy against his painfully hard, just as clothed dick.

 Finally, you took pity on the poor thing. His moans were getting increasingly desperate, and you could tell that he was doing everything in his power to keep them quiet. You hovered your lips directly over his ear.

 “What’s wrong, baby?”

 “A-ah-mph!” He squeezed his eyes shut as he writhed on the bed, pressing his hand to his mouth to keep his pathetic noises in. His whole body was shaking when you sat up.

 A wet patch on the crotch of his jeans made the dark fabric even darker, and a horrified expression washed over his face as your eyes immediately landed on it. If he would’ve looked between your legs, he would’ve noticed that your shorts were just as soaked, but he didn’t. He only saw your dumbfounded expression as you tried to figure out what you were supposed to say. All that came out was, “D-did you just…?”

 You just made a boy cum. From kissing. This had to have been the best day of your life. 

 “I’m sorry,” he breathed, pushing you off of him. He immediately stood up, locating his jacket on your desk and holding it in front of his pants as he slid his bag over his shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He looked down the whole time, never letting his eyes meet yours as he slipped his way out of your bedroom door. 

 “Mingi!” you called two seconds too late. “You’re not going to–” 

 You sighed, letting your voice get quiet. “Help me?”

 He didn’t come back, leaving you with soaking panties and an unsatiated pulsing between your legs that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

You texted him the next morning.

 It’s not a big deal, Ming. Do you want to come over?

 He didn’t respond. You went the whole weekend without hearing from him, and even when you waited for him at your usual spot on Monday, he didn’t show. You sent him another text. 

 Stop being stupid. I miss you.

 He didn’t respond to that, either. By Tuesday, you were so anxious to see him that you waited outside his lecture hall after his morning class, scanning the crowd of faces for him. He wasn’t difficult to find; his tall frame easily distinguished him from the rest of the crowd, even with his shoulders slouched. He made eye contact with you and immediately put his head down, walking faster. 

 “Mingi!” You yelled, weaving through the crowd to follow him. 

 His pace quickened, his long legs carrying him out of the brick building and through the grassy common area, skillfully dodging flying frisbees and strategically-hung Enos. 

 “Mingi! This…” you panted. “This isn’t fair! Your legs are longer than mine!”

 He flinched with each call of his name, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t slow down. You picked up your pace to a jog, huffing as you tried to catch up to him. “MINGI! Stop fucking ignoring me!”

 After quickening your steps to a borderline sprint, you finally got close enough to grab the handle of his backpack, yanking him backwards and causing both of you to collapse on the lawn in the process. 

 “Ow…” he whined, rubbing his butt and attempting to brush grass off of it.

 “You…” you breathed. “You fucking suck. Why aren’t you talking to me?”

 “W-What do you want me to say? What the hell am I supposed to say after humiliating myself like that?”

 “I told you it wasn’t a big deal, stupid! I wanted to make you feel good!”

 His ears burned as he looked at you with wide eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and shock painting his face. 

 “And you… you didn’t even stay and help me. I was more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life, and you just got up and left! Right after I helped you finish! Who the fuck does that?”

 “I…” he breathed, trying not to pass out. He made you more turned on than you’d ever been in your life? “I didn’t think you wanted me to…”

 “You didn’t think I wanted to feel good, too?”

 “No!” he stammered, “No, I just… I didn’t think, I mean, I thought you would think I was gross.”

 You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Mingi, the entire point of having sex is to feel good. I didn’t think you were gross, I was jealous of you.”

 And see, that was where he fundamentally disagreed with you. As far as Mingi was concerned, the entire point of having sex was to be intimate with someone you love. Feeling good was just a bonus. 

 He loved you so fucking much. Knowing that you didn’t feel the same way about him made his chest physically ache, but he knew that you needed him, and that was more than he could have hoped for. If you didn’t love him, at least you could love the way he made you feel. 

 “I’ll make it up to you next time,” he assured you. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel good.”

 Your smile reappeared, and he felt like he’d been hit by a train.

 “Yeah,” you laughed, punching his shoulder. “You better. Wanna try that new boba place?”

The boba was mid, but it was nice to just be in Mingi’s presence again. He crumpled his straw wrapper as he told you about his weekend, how his mom’s birthday was coming up, and how things were getting more serious between Yunho and his girlfriend. 

 You liked the sound of his voice. You remembered when it used to crack all the time in middle school, but it had since balanced out into a smooth baritone, cascading your ears in warmth. 

 “Are you listening to me?”

 “What? Yes.” 

 “No, you’re not,” he scoffed. ”You’ve been staring at my lips for the past five minutes.” 

 “Yeah, because you have foam on them.”

 He immediately wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his ears flushing a bright red as he mumbled a disingenuous “fuck you.”

 The foam was only a scapegoat. You both knew how much you loved his lips. 

 “Speaking of fuck you…” You shifted in your metal chair. “When… when are we going to… you know…”

 “What?”

 “You know…” You looked to the side, your eyes widening. 

 His heartrate doubled. “Oh. Um… I don’t know. Was there… did you have a specific time in mind?”

 “Sorry, didn’t realize I needed to make an appointment,” you laughed. “I don’t know. I just… I want to. Soon.”

 He remembered your words. Get it over with. 

 “Okay,” he nodded. “We can. Soon.”

 You picked up his hand that was resting on the table to play with his fingers, pinching them between your smaller ones while you chewed on a ball of sweet tapioca. 

 He swallowed and watched you, his eyes glazing over. I love you, I love you, I love you.

 Your stomach dropped a bit when you met his starry eyes. You didn’t know why.

Two days later and you had Mingi underneath you again, his hands gripping your waist while you sucked on those perfect lips. 

 “Gonna make you feel good this time…” he whispered, trying to catch his breath between your feverish kisses. “Promise.”

 You just rested your hand on the back of his neck and sighed.

 “Can I… Is it okay if I take your shirt off?” He asked, his face a deep shade of red. 

 “Yeah,” you breathed. “It’s okay.”

 But he didn’t move, so you tugged on the hem of your shirt and lifted it off yourself. His breath caught in his throat when he saw your half-naked torso, covered by nothing but a slightly too tight purple bra that you got on clearance a few years ago.

 He shakily brushed a fingertip over the little bow in the center of it.

 Your face felt so hot you were sure water would boil if someone rested a pot on your cheek.

 “Can you… take your shirt off, too? This feels weird.” You covered your torso with your arms.

 “O-oh, yeah,” he nodded. “I’m sorry. Yeah.”

 You scooted back so that he could sit up, his trembling hands lifting his shirt over his head.

 His chest was flushed red. That was the first thing you noticed. And his belly was lean, but also soft and smooth, puffing and deflating with his shallow breath. 

 You rested a hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. He just watched you.

 “We’re not kids anymore…” you whispered. There was a sad tone to your words, almost as if you were grieving.

 “No,” Mingi shook his head, his voice barely audible. “We’re not.”

 It was a beautifully horrifying realization. The kid you used to make mud soup with was a man now, and he was touching you like you’d never been touched before.

 You kissed him then. To comfort him, to comfort yourself, to be closer to the person who already knew you better than anyone in the universe.

 You unclasped your bra and just let it loosely rest on top of your chest.

 “Hey,” Mingi whispered, “Just me, remember?”

 Right. Just Mingi. 

 You tossed your bra to the side, instinctively covering your boobs with your hands.

 “Please…” Mingi placed his hands over yours. “I want to see you.”

 He sighed when you removed your hands, just as slowly.

 “Pretty…” he mumbled. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

 You nodded and he ran his hands over the lines on your sides where your bra had been digging into your skin. You cursed yourself for not buying a new one before this. Maybe he’d like one of those silk push-up bras you always saw your friends wearing, or perhaps one of those flimsy lace bralettes that you saw in the windows at Victoria’s Secret last week.

 “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and the insecurity in your stomach almost vanished completely. Almost. 

 He leaned forward, cupping one of your tits in his huge hand and gently kissing the other. You gasped when you felt his wet tongue drag across your nipple, and he looked up at you for reassurance while you laced your fingers through his hair. 

 “Does that feel good?”

 “Yes,” you breathed. “Y-yeah, that feels good….”

 He gently latched his mouth to your nipple, sucking and then running his soft tongue over the flesh to soothe it. You didn’t mean to, but you arched your back, and his free hand found a place in the dip of your waist.

 You subconsciously tugged on his hair as he sucked your other nipple. He worshipped your tits, kissing, sucking, and licking them while you quietly moaned, grinding against his erection. You wanted to let him continue all night, but soon,  the pulsing between your thighs started to become unbearable. 

 “Ming… need you to fuck me,” you whispered. “Please.”

 He pulled back a bit, his plump lips glossy and his adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed.

 “Okay.”

 He didn’t move and you didn’t, either. You just looked at each other, breathing heavy though you’d hardly done anything yet.

 “... Nobody’s ever seen me naked before,” he said under his breath.

 You shook your head. “Me neither.”

 He kissed you again, but it was really just so that you wouldn’t watch him while he took his pants off. And you weren’t sure what you were doing, you weren’t sure why, but once both of your pants were off, you reached a hand down and felt him through the thin fabric of his boxers.

 He took in a sharp inhale. 

 “I’m sorry,” you said, “Is this okay?”

 And then you felt a large hand between your thighs, softly rubbing you through your panties.

 It felt so much different from when you did it to yourself. More pleasurable, sure, but also more vulnerable. More intense.

 Neither of you knew what to say. You felt how hard he was against your hand. He felt the little wet patch soaking through your panties. You both needed this desperately, and yet for a few moments, nobody moved. 

 “Y-you can take them off of me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and it cracked in the middle, but you were proud of yourself for getting the words out. 

 His hands shook when he slid them down your thighs. Before he could stare for too long, you slid your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down. 

 You weren’t sure if he was big or not. You’d never seen a penis in real life before, only in porn, and he looked about the same size as what you’d seen in porn. Did that mean he was big?

 He looked down, and you realized you were staring. “Sorry,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again. 

 “N-no, it’s okay. Is it… I mean, do you like it?”

 Your face broke into a smile. Mingi, Mingi, Mingi. “Yes, it’s  lovely, Ming. Stop stressing.”

 You reached for a condom on your nightstand, closely inspecting the foil packet for instructions. 

 “I think I can do it,” he mumbled, gently taking the condom out of your hand.

 “You know how to?”

 “I think so.”

 After a few minutes of him fumbling with the latex, his lips were on yours again and you could feel his dick resting on your thigh. 

 “Are you ready?” He pulled back for a moment to look you in the eye.

 “M-mhm,” you nodded.

 He kissed your cheek and held his dick in his hand, aligning himself. A painful stretching sensation flooded your lower half as his thick tip poked at your entrance. 

 He inhaled shakily. “C-can I… can I push it in now?”

 You nodded. “I… think so? Y-yeah… go ahead…”

 He pushed his hips forward, and the sensation intensified when you felt his tip enter you with a pop. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything you’d ever felt before. A horrid stretch, almost like a burn, splitting you open in the worst way. Tears pricked into your eyes.

 “OW! Ow, ow, ow, stop, stop, stop!” You pushed his broad shoulders away, whimpering when he frantically pulled out. That hurt, too.

 “O-oh my god, are you okay? What did I- D-did I do something wrong?”

 You looked down at his dick, which was still fully hard. He was big, you supposed. Really big. With his cock resting on your stomach, it went all the way up to your belly button. You felt stupid for thinking you could take him without any prep.

 And you also felt embarrassed. This wasn’t how your first time was supposed to go. This didn’t happen in porn. You were supposed to be screaming his name, he was supposed to be groaning yours and pounding you into the mattress. You were supposed to be making him feel good, and he was supposed to be doing the same for you. A lump formed in your throat and you attempted to blink the tears out of your eyes, which probably just made them more teary. 

 “No,” you breathed. “I think… I don’t think I’m wet enough.”

 He frowned. “Did we not kiss for long enough?”

 “No, no, we did.” Guilt crept into your chest. You knew this wasn’t how he pictured his first time going, either. 

 His frown intensified as a pained look washed over his face. “Are you not… is it because you’re not attracted to me?”

 “Stop it, Mingi. It’s not for any reason. You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just… we can get lube from the store and try again tomorrow, okay? I can jerk you off to help you finish if you want.”

 His heart ached. He didn’t want you to ‘help him finish.’ He wanted to make love to you, soft and tender and slow. He wanted to hold your face and kiss your forehead and tell you how much you meant to him.

 But his dick was painfully hard, and there aren’t many times that the love of your life offers to help you finish even though they don’t feel the same way about you, so he said, “Yes, please.”

 You wrapped your fingers around his erection, biting your cheek to stop yourself from crying. He bit his lip to do the same.

Mingi couldn’t make eye contact with the cashier when he bought lube from the drug store the next day. His hands shook as he put his card into the reader, and they kept shaking while he entered his pin number. The machine dinged and he yanked his card out, snatching the plastic bag from the cashier before they had time to offer him a receipt. His face burned the entire walk to your dorm and didn’t stop burning once he got there.

 His breath caught in his throat when you opened the door. “I got the…” he held the plastic bag up. “I got the stuff.”

 You laughed and stepped back to let him inside. “You make it sound like we’re about to do drugs.”

 Yeah, something like that.

 Mingi didn’t say anything when you sat him on your bed and straddled his hips. He whimpered a little bit when you pressed your lips to his, and you assumed that it was just because he was horny. 

 You held the side of his neck and worked your tongue against his, rolling your hips forward to grind against his growing bulge. He whimpered again, and you moved your face down to suck on his neck. 

 “I think you need to finger me first,” you whispered in his ear.

 “W-what?” He blinked up at you for a moment, his eyes wide and starry before he shyly looked away. “I’ve never… I mean… I don’t know how to do that.”

 “It can’t be that hard, right? You just take your fingers and, like… put them in me.”

 “I think it’s a little more complicated than that.”

 “Well… I’ll just tell you what feels good, okay? I do it to myself all the time.”

 His eyes snapped up again as he imagined you touching yourself. He’d thought about it before, late at night when he was jerking off, but hearing you say it out loud made him feel dizzy. Flames erupted across his cheeks again, and his body tensed.

 Your face burned with the realization of your confession. “Stop picturing it.”

 “S-sorry.”

 “I just need your fingers first, okay? I can’t… I can’t take your dick without some prep first.”

 It was like you wanted him to cum in his pants again. He nodded and reached for the plastic bag, fishing out the lube and taking it out of its little purple box. 

 “I’m sorry about yesterday, by the way.” His voice was quiet.

 “There’s nothing to be sorry about. That’s why we’re doing this together, you know? Because we feel safe around each other.”

 He nodded.

 “But for the record…” You lowered your head, still embarrassed about how yesterday went. “I’m sorry, too.”

 “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He smiled.

 You kissed him, and you were so glad that you were kissing him. 

 “I’m really going to need you to walk me through this because I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.” His cheeks were a splotchy red. 

 You laughed. “I promise it sounds scarier than it actually is.” You pulled your shirt over your head, embarrassed again when you realized you were wearing the same purple bra that you wore yesterday.

 “Shit,” you breathed. “I meant to wear something nicer for you today. Sorry.”

 For me? Mingi thought. For me? 

 But he said, “I like this one. It’s cute.” And he touched the little bow again.

 “Thanks.” You climbed off of his lap to take your shorts off. “Lift your arms.”

 He obeyed, and you lifted his shirt over his head. It didn’t need to be off yet, you supposed, but you’d been dreaming about Mingi’s lean abdomen all day and you didn’t want to wait another second to have it under your fingertips again. 

 You laid down on the bed and slid your panties off, but didn’t spread your legs yet. You felt vulnerable again, especially considering that Mingi still had his pants on. 

 “C-can you–” you started.

 “Yeah,” Mingi nodded, already unbuttoning his pants. When they were off, he sat back down and gently brushed his fingertips over your thigh. 

 “Okay,” he breathed. “Tell me what to do.”

 “Just… just kiss me for a second.” The truth was, you weren’t even really sure how to give him instructions, and you wanted to buy yourself some time. You usually just felt around until something felt good, and you weren’t sure how to explain that to him.

 He kissed you. You decided that even if he was always too big for you, even if you couldn’t ever take his full length, you’d probably be just as happy kissing him and jerking him off like you did last night.

 You felt his hand on your inner thigh and you liked the feeling. 

 “Okay, so…” you inhaled deeply. “Just start with one. And you can just kinda… feel around? I’ll tell you what feels good.”

 “Okay,” he nodded, taking a deep breath, too. “Okay.”

 He dripped some of the lube onto his fingers, rubbing it with his thumb in an attempt to warm it up. Your body tensed as you felt his finger slide between your folds, shaking slightly as he rubbed you up and down.

 He seemed to stop breathing for a moment. His eyes just raked over your body, all wide and starry while he clumsily touched you. 

 “You’re gorgeous,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

 “M-Mingi, Ah-” You let out a tiny yelp when his fingertip brushed your clit.

 “Did I hurt you?” He immediately stopped, taking his fingers away. 

 “N-no, that felt good… really good…” You nodded. 

 He tried to find the spot again, clumsily drawing circles around it.

 “S-so good. Yeah, r-right there,” you sighed.

 His fingertip slipped a little too far to the left. 

 “N-no, back where it was.”

 After a few seconds of “Here?” and “No, here,” back and forth, he found the spot again and gently traced it. 

 Your eyes rolled back and closed as your body twitched, trying to get used to the sensation of being touched by another person. 

 Then his fingers slid further down, but it was intentional this time. 

 Mingi looked you in the eye and didn’t say anything as he gently circled his fingertip around your opening, coating it in lube and spreading your arousal at the same time. 

 You didn’t say anything, either. You couldn’t if you tried. But he understood your tiny nod and the look of desperation in your eyes, so he gently pushed his finger inside. 

 His long, thick finger went deeper than your own ever had, but it didn’t hurt. “O-ohh,” you breathed, shivering.

 Mingi was at a loss for words. Your pussy was hugging his finger so tight and you felt so warm and the tiny noises that you were making were about to send him over the edge. “Fuck…” he sharply inhaled through his teeth, staring up at the ceiling for a minute so that he didn’t cum untouched.

 “M-Mingi,” you breathed, “Go like this.” And then you held a finger up and curved it inward, and he immediately obeyed.

 Your back arched to a borderline uncomfortable degree as you let out a pathetic little noise, and Mingi seriously was on the edge of an orgasm already.

 “I-is that a sensitive spot?”

 “Do it again,” you commanded. “Mingi, do that again.”

 He did, and then he did it a few more times, pumping his finger and setting a rhythm. You were probably being a little too squirmy, but you couldn’t help it. Nothing had ever felt like this before. 

 “Fuck,” you breathed. “Add another one.”

 Mingi meant to ask ‘Are you sure?’ but his head was so fuzzy with arousal that he just obeyed, pushing his middle finger in next to his pointer finger.

 “S-shit,” you gasped, sitting up and holding his wrist. “Hold on a sec– fuck.”

 “Are you okay?”

 “It feels good,” you nodded. “Just forgot how thick these are.”

 He understood. He could almost feel you stretching out, and he suddenly felt horribly guilty for not offering to do this before he attempted to put his dick inside of you yesterday.

 “You’re doing amazing,” he encouraged you, nodding slightly. “J-just let me know when you want more, okay?”

 “C-can you…” You blushed, too shy to complete your sentence. 

 He knit his eyebrows at you, giving you an encouraging nod. He felt your pussy tighten around his fingers, and he tried not to groan.

 “What do you need, baby?” He soothed, “Just tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

 Your face burned. Mingi had never been more attractive to you, with his lips swollen and his cheeks flaming and his fingers deep inside of you. He was gently thrusting his fingers, massaging your g-spot, tracing your opening, and stretching you out all in a fluid motion.

 “C-can you play with my clit again while you do that?” You whispered. 

 He nodded immediately, smiling and circling his thumb around your pebbled clit. 

 “O-ohh…” you moaned, burying your face in his neck. “Oh my god…”

 He swallowed roughly. “G-good…” He encouraged as he felt you slowly relax around his fingers.

 Your back arched, tiny little whimpers escaping you as Mingi made love to you with his hand. 

 And he was barely holding it together. He could feel the tip of his dick sticking to his boxers, precum smearing against the fabric and providing his cockhead with the tiniest bit of friction every time he moved his hips. 

 “Do you want one more? Or are you good with two?” His voice was hoarse. 

 “I d-on’t—“ You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you felt the tiny spark of an orgasm in your core. “D-don’t think I can take a third…”

 Mingi nodded, and then he kissed your forehead. He wanted to speak, but he was putting all of his effort into keeping up a steady rhythm with his hand and not coming in his pants while your tensed thigh rubbed his dick. 

 And then it was silent for a few moments, except for the quiet squelching coming from between your legs every few seconds. 

 “I think I’m gonna cum.” You whispered, keeping your eyes closed. Focusing on that feeling, chasing it.

 Mingi swallowed, his breath catching. “Mm.” He hummed. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

 Your breath caught in your throat, the rest of it escaping in a choked whimper. “F-faster…” You breathed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”

 He nodded, quickening his movements. You leaned up, catching his lips in a messy kiss as you got closer and closer.

 You were quieter than you thought you’d be. As your orgasm approached, you hardly made any noise at all, save for a few little gasps. 

 Your mouth dropped open and you pressed your forehead to your lover’s, letting out one single moan as your orgasm clenched down on his fingers. It ran through your body in waves, your muscles tensing and releasing rhythmically.

 “My god…” Mingi groaned, continuing his movements. “G-Good job, baby.”

 You squeaked, gently pushing his hand away as you neared overstimulation. His brows furrowed as he worried that he’d hurt you, but you immediately eased his anxiety by holding the back of his neck and pressing your lips to his again.

 “Felt so good…” You mumbled through kisses. “T-think I’m ready now…”

 His heart fluttered as he felt your hand between his legs, stroking his sensitive thighs. And then he looked at you in a way that a boy had never looked at you before, with big, dark, sparkling, pleading eyes. Like he needed you.

 So gently, like you were afraid he’d break, you slipped his dick out of his blue plaid boxers. He was so hard, so sticky and pulsing that you were sure he must have been in pain. “Thank you for making me feel good,” you whispered. “I know it must have been hard to wait…”

 He shook his head, closing his eyes. “Don’t thank me.” He let out a tiny noise as you stroked him once. “I loved it,” he breathed. “I loved doing that for you.”

 You smiled, kissing him again. “Take these off,” you pleaded, tugging at the waistband of his boxers. 

 Mingi pushed them down, kicking them off the bed at his feet. And then he was fully naked, hovering above you, also fully naked. It should have been scary, but you’d never felt more safe. You reached your arms behind him, stroking his back before sliding your hands down to teasingly squeeze his ass.

 He let out a choked noise and you laughed. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that. You have a really nice ass.”

 He shook his head, laughing and kissing you again.

 “You’re really beautiful, Mingi.” You whispered, feeling another pang in your core as he groaned at the praise. 

 He reached a hand up, squeezing your breast as he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you. His heavy cock rested on your belly, clear precum sticking to your soft skin. 

 You reached for the condom on the nightstand, carefully ripping it open. His eyes didn’t leave your face as you gently rolled it onto him, your small hand wrapping around his girth. You slid his tip between your folds, then coated it in even more lube. You knew it might still hurt a little bit, but you felt much more prepared for it this time. 

 “The second it starts to hurt,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “You tell me.”

 You nodded. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes, and didn’t look away when his tip was aligned with your entrance. 

 But his eyes fluttered shut a bit when he slipped inside. He couldn’t help it.

 Your gasp made him open his eyes again. “Are you okay?”

 “Mmh–” You nodded, your voice high pitched and squeaky. He pushed forward, filling you, stretching you, making you his.

 “Mingi…” You whined, tears blurring your vision. “S-so big…”

 He kissed away the first tear that fell. “I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, “Y-You’re doing so well.”

 He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his length. 

 “Is it…” You looked up at him with teary eyes. “Is it all the way in yet?”

 “Not yet.” His eyes were full of empathy and adoration. “Can you take any more? It’s okay if you can’t.”

 You whimpered. “S’big, Mingi.”

 “I know, baby, I know it’s big. Does it feel good? D-Does it hurt?”

 “It feels…” you trailed off. “It feels good but it hurts. I dunno if I can take any more.”

 “That’s okay,” he nodded, kissing your forehead. “You feel s-so good just like this.”

 “R-really?”

 “Yes,” he nodded. “You feel amazing. So… so fucking good.” He gritted his teeth as he spoke, shaking and sweating and forcing himself to not instinctively start fucking you hard and fast. “Can I move a little bit now?”

 “Yes,” you nodded. “Slow, please.”

 He pulled back so that only the very end of his tip was dipped into your opening, then shakily pushed forward in a single stroke, a little over three quarters of the way inside. 

 Tears stung his and your eyes. You felt better than anything he’d ever felt before, and the stretching sensation was starting to feel more pleasant than painful. 

 “I’m so…” he whimpered. “I’m so proud of you. You’re taking me so well.”

 “Mingi…” you whined in response, clawing at his back. “F-feels good.”

 “Yeah?” His eyes met yours. “It feels good?”

 “Mmm. I want… want you to fuck me. B-but slow, okay?”

 He visibly shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as his whole body became covered in goosebumps. 

 “T-tell me if it’s too much.”

 He attempted to set a pace then, slowly pushing and pulling his hips to halfway-fuck you as gently as he possibly could. Little moans slipped from your lips in time with his thrusts.

 “Ungh…” he whimpered, “God. F-feels so good. You’re so…” his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

 “Mingi…” You rested your hand on his cheek. “Kiss.”

 He didn’t need to be told twice. His perfectly full lips gently kissed yours, softly massaging his tongue into your mouth while he slowly pumped his cock in and out of you. You were embarrassed that you couldn’t take his whole length yet, but you decided in that moment that this wouldn’t be the last time you did this with him, and you had all the time in the world to train for the entirety of him. 

 “Fuck…” he repeated, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m… I’m close. I’m sorry.”

 “You are?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, a moan slipping from your lips when his thrusts got a bit faster. 

 That was fast, you thought, but it was his first time, you supposed. You hoped he had good stamina, because you didn’t want this night to be anywhere close to over.

 “I c-can’t…” His hips were starting to shake a bit. “God, you feel so good. Squeezing me so tight.”

 “Ming…” you whispered, holding his face. “I wanna make you cum. Want you to cum for me.”

 “Oh, fuck…” he whimpered. “God, f-fuck-“

 His voice cracked as his eyes squeezed shut, his belly tensing and his lips dropping open in a silent moan. 

 And for a few seconds, time didn’t exist. There was only him and you and your bodies, like this was how you were always meant to be. You felt his big hand on your waist and his thick length stretching you out, but you also felt that same comforting atmosphere that always followed him around. You saw his face, the one that you knew so well, contorted in pleasure, and you heard his familiar voice making unfamiliar noises. And there was no one in the world you’d rather do this with. There was no one else you wanted to kiss. 

 “I love you.”

 He cried out as he came, curling in on himself and burying his face in your neck as he pulled out so just his tip was inside, pumping the condom full of his load. 

 He pulled out and rested his cock on your belly, huffing in your neck as he caught his breath. 

 You stroked his hair and swallowed, a lump forming in your throat. 

 You said it. You told him out loud and you’d never be able to take it back. 

 He just kept breathing down your neck, sweaty and shaking and wondering if he heard you right. 

 “I– I tried not to…” you breathed. “I tried so hard not to fall in love with you. You’re my best friend and you mean more to me than anyone else. But I just…” 

 You swallowed. There was really no going back now. 

 “I see you smiling and it hits me like a steamroller. Like my chest is knocked in and I can’t breathe. It feels… It feels like I’m suffocating and I don’t know how to stop it or make it go away.”  

 You felt his large hand hold your jaw, and his lips were on yours. 

 “Please… be my girlfriend,” he mumbled, breathless between kisses.

 You pulled back to look in his eyes. “What?”

 “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Please, please, please be my girlfriend.”

 Your face broke a little bit. “You have?”

 He nodded, and then his face broke, too. “Please say yes.” He held your face, looking deep into your eyes. “P-please, baby.”

 “Obviously yes,” you smiled, tears so close to spilling from your eyes. “Dummy.”

 “I love you,” he cried, kissing you again. “I love you so fucking much.”

 “Mingi,” you breathed, for no reason other than to say his name. 

 He kissed you and cried and you kissed him and cried, and he suddenly remembered what Yunho said. A nice way to show her I really care. 

 He kissed down your neck, across your chest, on your nipples, over your belly, until his shoulders were between your thighs.

 “W-what are you doing?” You asked, looking down at him a little too innocently.

 “I don’t really know,” he sighed, leaning forward and kissing your dewy pussy.

 “A-ah! Mingi!” Your legs instinctively closed around his head, and his big hands gently pried them open again. 

 “It’s okay…” he breathed, leaning forward again. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He sweetly kissed your inner thigh before spreading you with his tongue.

 You whimpered and squirmed, grabbing a fistful of his soft dark hair. 

 “You sound so pretty,” he mumbled, kissing your clit, “And you taste so good…”

 His thick, plump lips worked with his velvet tongue to worship your pussy. And it was loud, the room filled with wet sounds and Mingi’s groans, along with the pathetic little moans you were letting out. 

 You looked down at him. His ears and cheeks were dark red, his eyes closed, the sharp tip of his nose shiny and wet. 

 “T-that feels really good, Ming—“ You were interrupted by your own gasp as his tongue slipped into your entrance. 

 “You’re mine now…” His deep voice sounded gravelly and thick. “You’re all fucking mine…”

 “Mingi…” You whimpered, lacing your fingers through his hair as his lips sweetly sucked your clit. How did you learn how to do this? You wanted to ask. 

 But he was moaning against you again before the thought could finish. “I’m gonna do this every fuckin’ day…” He blinked slowly, a string of drool connecting his lips and your pussy. He used his broad shoulders to push your legs open even wider, taking a deep breath before diving back in. 

 This time, he slipped two fingers inside of you while he worked his tongue. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of you while he passionately used his fingers and tongue. 

 “I’ve dreamed of this…” He paused to kiss your inner thighs. “Wanted this for so long… needed to know what you tasted like.”

 “Mingi…” You breathed, watching as his pink tongue drew circles around your clit. “I-I’m gonna cum again…”

 “Yes,” he groaned, never coming up for air. “Please, baby. Come in my mouth. I wanna taste all of it, please… wanna lick you clean.”

 Hearing those filthy words come from shy, sweet Mingi’s mouth made your stomach flutter. Your thighs clenched around his head as he gave you the most enthusiastic slurp of the night, the otherwise silent room filled with the sounds of his mouth devouring you. 

 You moaned so loud when you came that there was no doubt in your mind that your roommates heard. Mingi’s groans of enthusiasm were hardly muted, either. 

 Your thighs twitched, your body shook and your hips pressed against Mingi’s warm mouth as your orgasm consumed you, and you’d never felt more adored in your life.

 And then he didn’t stop. 

 “Mingi!” You cried out, trying to squirm away from his tongue. 

 But he looped his arm under one of your thighs, keeping you pried open. He used his other hand to spread your pussy, groaning as he licked it again. 

 “My girl…” He mumbled, and he seemed to be drunk off the taste of you, talking to himself. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy…” 

 Your eyes widened and you twitched as his tongue flicked inside of you again. You’d never seen this side of Mingi before; you’d never seen anything close to this side of Mingi before… and you really, really didn’t want it to stop. But—

 “I’m really sensitive, Ming…”

 That seemed to snap him out of his trance a bit. He looked up, moving his body up to sweetly kiss your lips again. “I’m sorry, baby. You j-just…” He sighed, catching his breath. “You taste so good.”

 You smiled. “I really like it when you call me baby.”

 He kissed your forehead then collapsed on the bed, laying next to you. You rolled onto your side, gently stroking his belly. 

 “Do you feel good?” He asked softly, his full cheeks blushing. “Was that enough?”

 “Enough?” You laughed in disbelief. “It was perfect.” You nodded. “Perfect.”

 “I’ll always make sure you’re satisfied, okay?” Your boyfriend looked you in the eye, his brow slightly furrowed. “A-and I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of. I’ll make sure your belly is always full and your shoes never get dirty.”

 A kiss on his chin, your face in his neck. “It’s just me, Mingi. Just you and me.”

 “Just us…” He mumbled, “Just like always.”

 You nodded and then sat in silence, touching and being touched. He stroked your thigh with his pinky, his eyes on your lips. 

 “In our own little world. Just the two of us.”

[steddietogo]

Wait wait. What if Eddie is the one that meets famous Steve and doesn’t know who he is. Now with a Part two!!

They meet at a run down bar Eddie works at which doesn’t get a lot of patrons that are easy on the eye, so Eddie happily responds to the flirting. They exchange numbers and Steve leaves him a hefty tip.

They almost never go out in public, Steve says he has a thing about crowds and Eddie doesn’t think much of it. They spend a lot of time together. Steve’s house is nice and is a lot more quiet than Eddie’s place with the paper thin walls. He lets Eddie work on his novel there whenever he wants.

Steve’s funny and nice and always actively listens to everything Eddie has to say. He meets Robin who narrows her eyes at Eddie the first couple times (Steve swears she’s just over protective) but eventually warms up to him. He also meet the neighborhood teens that constantly barge into Steve’s place to bully him for fun.

Steve who’s an excellent fucking lover, who cooks for Eddie, buys him stuff despite his protests (does that make him his sugar daddy?). Steve who pretends his hair brush is a mic and sings along to Mariah Carey. Steve who always says sorry first. Steve who kisses Eddie like he’s something precious.

Eddie never stood a chance, he’s head over heels in love.

The rude awakening comes one afternoon at Eddie’s place during a dnd session (which he willing hosts to get back at his neighbors) when Gareth looks up at Eddie from his phone during a break, eyes as wide as saucers. “Dude, is this you?”

He hands Eddie his phone, display lit up with a picture and— yes that’s him from that morning, hand in hand with Steve in his big ass grey hoodie, shopping at the farmers market. He swipes and there’s another one of them laughing at something. Then another one of them kissing. It’s an insta post by an account he doesn’t recognize and has over two million likes. And the caption says, ‘omg guys I just saw Steve Harrington with his boyfriend’.

Eddie doesn’t pick up any of Steve’s calls that night. When he finally looks Steve up, he just feels impossibly stupid. He’s been dating an actor who’s basically been in a bazillion movies (Eddie’s even watched one of them a while ago) with a net worth he can’t even imagine? He can’t think of why Steve would even give someone like Eddie the time of his day when he works with so many actors and models.

He scrolls through the thousands of comments on the post, ranging from ‘they’re such a cute couple’ to ‘why is he dating an ugly skank’ (he’s never been called a skank before, it’s an experience).

His phone doesn’t stop blowing up but Eddie resolves to go see Steve first thing in the morning. It’s 3am when he finally falls asleep.

[chrollohearttags]

ENVY | EREN JAEGER • the seven slutty sins series: part two

he’s not selfish, he just wants you all to himself..

musician/influencer au, possessive (yandere if you squint) eren, black fem reader, rough sex, spit play, hair pulling, overstim, exhibitionism, etc.

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eren never got jealous!

at least that’s what he told himself..nothing ever really garnered that much of a rise out of the rapper. Sure, he’d have fleeting moments of self doubt and insecurity like any other warm blooded human on this planet but one thing that could be said of EJ The Don, was that he was no hater. Others’ problems or accomplishments were of no consequence to him…someone trending higher on the charts for a number one spot? Cool. Just meant that it was their time instead of his. Awards shows? He wasn’t bothered. One man’s win didn’t spell failure for him. And when it came to women? EJ was the textbook definition of unbothered. He was cool on every single one that had ever crossed his path. Nonchalant and never worried with the possibility that he could lose her. Simply put, it wasn’t a problem for him. He was also never worried about his proverbial competition..because on the off chance that another guy was in the picture, there was no question of who she was going home with! He never had a reason to resent anyone..

…that was until he saw you with him!

“Oh my—‘rennn, fuuuck, I can’t..”

“Can’t what, hmm? Go ‘head, speak up, baby. I’m listening..”

he was calm and collected until he spotted you on Twitter..one of the rare instances he decided to actually engage with the app and he happens to see his beloved (y/n) dancing to his best friend’s song. Subtly shaking your ass to the upbeat instrumental in that skin tight dress. A sheer thong peeking out underneath and giving the world a small glimpse of what belonged to him…that tiny string swallowed up by the thick of that ass and plump pussy lips. The same ones that were all but drooling for him at the moment as he thrashed around your insides with a thumb gently placed into that puckering asshole to aid in your pleasure.

“N-no more..you win…I can’t take it..”

you’d declare in haste, but he wasn’t buying it. Or rather, he didn’t give a fuck! Why would he when you couldn’t be vexed to consider how he’d feel? Seeing you twerk to the sound of his homeboy’s lyrics when he was all that you needed? He was the only one that could turn you so salacious..ripping your clothes off as if they were paper thin..that much proven by the fact that right now, you were bent over the counter space where his friend had just sat prior to going on stage. Buried to the hilt on his stiff, aching cock as he hooked two fingers into your mouth whilst they swabbed your tongue. The same one that throbbed and pulsed at the very sight of you..the one that swelled so large, it made it damn near uncomfortable to sit down when you showed off that pretty little body and once you spread those legs to show him what was in between, his tip seeped with precum and embarrassingly, sometimes, he’d come all on his lonesome. Hence why he was pounding your cunt into full blown submission and sincerely hoped that someone would catch you two in the act right now.

“You say that but you keep throwing that shit back on me..take that dick and shut the fuck up..”

those same slender, tattooed fingers that were once hooked in the side of your jaw and underneath you to massage that very sensitive clit, were now cupped around your throat so that you could get a generous glimpse at your face right now. That beautiful face desecrated with fallen tears and ruined makeup. Your melted lace lifted clean from the perimeter of your head as he tugged it to keep you in place with those deep strokes. “Look in that fucking mirror. Look how pretty you are taking that dick..” Alternating his pacing between rough and gentle, fast and slow..all in an attempt to bring you closer to your inevitable peak..one that would undoubtedly leave you in a dripping wet mess. He’d watch you tap at that countertop to concede defeat or even reach back to paw at his abs but was only met with sharp hisses and a demented laugh, letting you know that he didn’t care about your pathetic pleas. Honestly, they were nothing more than fuel for his desires. Tugging your head back to occasionally fill those jaws with generous strings of saliva; slapping you to promptly receive your gratitude.

“Did you think I was gon’ let you get away with that shit, baby? This is mine..this my pussy..”

something he’d instill that empty little brain of yours, even if it took all night. If it took another artist and all of the staff backstage walking in, witnessing you in this vulnerable state. “Now open up. Spread that ass open..I want you to take all my nut…get you so full you can’t go nowhere..”

make no mistake, he wasn’t selfish. He wasn’t even jealous…he just wanted you all to himself.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@jadeisthirsting @spaceforher @honeybleed @shamelesshoefairy @calibabii21 @kaennih-skittles @astrokatsuki @bey0nseh @anubisisthebomb

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 2: Praise Kink

Pairing: IVE Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Word Count: 3,760

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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Sophisticated and classy—that’s one of the few words to describe this girl that has been on your nerves since probably day one. You hate her attitude and so is the luck every time you’re with her as everything seems to fall out of place, maybe in the worst-case scenario, you guess. 

Well, in all honesty, you don’t hate the princess. You never did.

It’s just all about jealousy and distraught with your own confidence that whenever she steps in, it crumbles like paper—easily defeated and turned into a ball of nothingness.

Well, everything changed within a singular snap of a finger (it’s figurative, of course) and you feel light-headed just being here, with her, holding her soft hands as she reassures you. She wasn’t even going to try anything that’ll exhaust such a plethora of energy because she knows herself how her charisma and visuals can make a man fall in love with her, not to mention rejecting dozens of men trying to ignite the love in heart but failed miserably.

But here you are, being the biggest irony of Wonyoung’s definition of love… or is it?

“Come on, oppa, we even have two hours left! Please, just stay…”

You can’t and you don’t want to. She can meet you anytime around the day or even in the whole week but you know she ain’t going to give up so easily, knowing she’s not going to stop until she gets what she wants. She wanted you to stay but your job is done here, you’ve taught her well, she pays the price and you’re going to leave her. Simple, yet her charms allure you but you fight yourself against it.

“I said what I said, Wonyoung, okay? I can’t—”

“You can't what, hm?” Wonyoung thuds her foot on the floor, frustrated upon your own actions of leaving her. She grabs your wrists, pulling it with maybe all of her strength (you can’t really tell it because on how easy it is outpower her, your muscular arms against her thin figure doesn’t make it a challenge) and then pouting right after, wanting you to stay and not leave her at this moment, at least.

Well, you can’t just let herself win all the time like she was always used to. You want to see the defeat on her sparkling orbs full of anticipation and her hope being lost—

“Then leave! I don’t need you anymore, oppa! Don’t touch me ever again!”

And there she goes with her reverse psychological attempts of gaslighting and never ceases to make you feel the sudden urge of being dead inside, unable to think clearly and having struggles within deciding the most beneficial one, for you, of course.

Here’s the thing: you don’t want her yet you like her—it’s a win-win situation and why should you overthink yourself about this? It’s like you’re going to lose a lot from this or gain a lot yet you know how cranky and bratty Wonyoung can get and it’s the greatest bane of your existence. Seeing Wonyoung becoming a nuisance and ill-tempered unlocks your irascible self and you hate her for that (and thank god, it happens pretty rarely).

You wanted to fight your urges but you don’t want this to escalate further, knowing how selfish Wonyoung can be and how she won’t adjust even in the tiniest bit.

God, this girl—you muttered upon yourself as it was laced with venom, cursed and damned about meeting this not-so-angelic girl. You can’t resist your temptation either—staying with Wonyoung probably will end in both ways, hoping it’ll be good or better.

“Okay, tch—” You quickly rushed your way onto the couch, sitting on it and earning a loud thud which made Wonyoung gasp at your harsh actions of the possible damage on the furniture but you didn’t care. “There, happy, hm, Wony?”

Her earlier stern and helpless countenance was now replaced with joy and satisfaction, knowing you chose to stay (and it’s like you have a choice because it’s impossible whenever she’s near). 

“Hah, yey! You’re definitely the best, oppa!” Wonyoung sat beside you and rested her head onto your shoulder, signaling the delight that she’s feeling knowing that she’s with you and you choose what’s best for her. “I know you can’t resist me, oppa.”

“Heck yeah I can't cause you’re gonna go nuts if I reject you.”

“What did you say?” Wonyoung pouts yet the glare in her eyes are evident, and so is the distaste that she feels after hearing such unacceptable cacophony. You know that she didn’t mind it, not even the slightest so you just brushed it off with a single “Nothing, Wonyoung.” and all things went normal yet an uncanny feeling in the can be felt—no, it's just Wonyoung on her knees, in front of you—

“What are you doing, Wonyoung?” 

You don't feel so good about this and have this nerve of an unwanted vice happening anytime soon. You knew this would come and you shouldn't have given in to her wants yet the other side of you is full of anticipation as your primal desires are slowly taking over you.

“Don't be so oblivious, oppa. Let me return the favor of everything you've done earlier.” You didn't deserve such a thing, even though you're not new to this—well, also thanks to her, she took your virginity away—you still don't need this favorable return. You just helped her study and tutored her but why would this be the return? Isn't such a simple soul like you enough for a gift?

You can't turn back now; you're only going to move forward and it's just only going to get better from here.

“But why, Wony? I don't deserve such—”

“Shut it, oppa—” Wonyoung tugs your pants as those perfect, dainty fingers scramble on unbuckling your belt and loosening up the clothed defenses that protects the desired grand prize. “—now would you let your little Wony reward you, daddy?”

Of course, the pet name—it turns you on so much that now, you can't contain anything but let your animalistic desires out. You can't stop her because it's too late and in fact, you want this and you're an absolute hypocrite if you don't. 

Things went like a flash—it felt like everything felt too fast as time sped up like a rocket but you didn't care because you wanted her, utterly.

With the last clothed defense on your iron wall, it collapses down to your ankles as it was proven worthless now, your hardening member is now within the sight of her refulgent orbs—god, it just feels better, doesn't it? You're maybe in heaven but the devil is just beside you and the oxymoron never failed to be in its own party.

With the draw of her nails onto your leaking slit, it draws pain and pits gasoline of the fire—pain associated with pleasure and not close to drawing blood. 

“Oh god, Wonyoung—we don't really need to d-do this…”

“Oh stop it, daddy. I know you wanted this and let your little girl pleasure you for the time being—” Wonyoung places her lips onto your swollen head, giving it a small peck that makes you shudder, your mouth escaping beautiful moans that fuels the primal lust and ego of Wonyoung. 

She seems to be the one that likes her ego getting petted and you're here to absolutely do it.

“Such a good g-girl for daddy, Wonyoung. So skilled and so good—you're definitely loving the taste of my cock don't you, hm?”

You're getting cocky and you know Wonyoung is loving this despite the utter brattiness and hypocrisy running down her mind.

“Gah—you know y-your cock is something I can't r-resist, daddy…”

She continues her moderate bobs as your base is now getting wet with her drool that is now starting to drip all over your sensitive head and her chin. She's in her own league and in an absolute masterclass when it comes to dick-sucking—such lips made like a cocksleeve is truly the one to be treasured as it perfectly hugs around your shaft like it was molded around it, her pleasurable suction being the cherry on top.

Her cheeks hollow in every thrust she does with her talented mouth, and you're no stranger to tell her how great she's been blowing you and it only has been a minute—and god, she's making your brain go haywire.

You stroke her hair and caress her cheeks, letting her know how great she is in terms of sucking you off. “Keep doing that, baby. This cock is all for you, princess. So, so, good—god, fuck!”

And it is incredibly off the charts—the corkscrew motions of her fingers, the dance of her tongue filled with enamore and the overstimulating suction is just, nearly, too much to handle. 

No one can top off her skills as she's just a professional in this—every second sending you weak, on your knees as every technique known to enervate your defenses is being presented right now and you can't think of anything articulate except the fact that Wonyoung's mouth is exerting too much effort as it's getting near the promised land—

“Just like—that—baby, ah! So fucking good—god, how are you so incredibly talented in possibly anything?”

Stroke her ego and she definitely loves it—her pupils dilating everytime you commend her is one strong piece of evidence. It's true even though it may seem like you're playing with her and it's crazy to think about it. She may be the jack-of-all-trades when it comes to everything but it’s definitely not even close with that in accordance to her selfish and diabolical attitude—it’s contradicting but you guess it’s just the fact that she always wanted to be treated like a princess and her sophisticated life explains about it. 

Well as much as you’d wanna do the opposite, it’s going to be completely questionable if you’ll degrade the superior job she’s doing between your legs. A flick of her tongue nears you onto that finish line as well as the dexterity of her slender fingers—it doesn’t help at all, considering you still want to savor and cherish every second of Wonyoung’s masterclass, the inevitable can’t be stopped as the growing sensation in your loins is ready to unload everything inside her heavenly mouth.

“Your mouth Wony—”

Her pace is ridiculous, unmatched han any other as her warm cavern glides onto your shaft like a loose speedster, in a hot pursuit—

“—it’s too good—”

Her silken plumpness made to unleash the profanities inside you, unshackling them and bringing them to their endgame but—

Pop. 

“B-but why’d you stop? I’m so close, Wony!”

You vent out the little frustration towards Wonyoung as your high suddenly became on the lowest point, subsided even before you’ve truly noticed it. Wonyoung just pouts at you adorably, apologizing for what she's done and god, the saliva dripping down to her chin and all around your cock is just a sight to see. It was feeling so damn good until she played with you but you’re not furious about it because she’s maybe wanting something and probably—this last bit is what you’re hoping for—having multiple things in store for you, for later.

She’s only getting started and it’s only going to get better than this.

Her quivering plump lips, her disheveled hair, her beautiful façade—every inch of her perfect is such a sight for a nice canvas to be painted on but it is what it is.

“Want you in my pussy now, daddy. God—I really love your cock, so much I just can’t get enough of it.”

Yes, it’s like her favorite candy she’s ready to brag about and it’s addicting. Ever since you’ve slept with her, it became a whole different story being with her as you always envisioned the nastiest things with her whenever you think about her and it’s clouded your mind ever since. Well, now, you have a lot of things to fulfill with her and the blowjob earlier was just the beginning of a show that’s bound to happen.

“I can’t get enough of your mind-boggling blowjobs too, Wony. You make me feel—” You switch places with her, pinning her down slowly onto the couch, your face now inching closer and closer towards her. “—great and that’s what I like about this.”

Without any foreplay, you capture her lips off-guard as you make the most passionate kiss possible that’ll make her feel butterflies in her stomach. Its saccharine taste makes it insatiable, wanting more of her yet a hot half a minute of this flustering moment is enough for the both of you to exchange breaths.

“Like the taste of you, daddy? ‘Cause I do—like, a lot.” Your face was puzzled after Wonyoung said that, also confused and unsure on what to imply as you playfully retorted against her. “I mean, your lips really made everything insatiable. Just can't get enough of you honestly…”

You continue the intimacy, fueling the lust inside you by dominating her with your tongue as she eagerly reciprocates, the kiss getting too heated but Wonyoung taps your shoulder, signaling you to detach away from her lips. You don’t know why exactly she wants this to be over but with Wonyoung’s enlightenment of the climax, your mind has been cleared and awakened, and so are your primal desires.

“As much as I want to kiss you, daddy, my pussy’s been wet since I’ve sucked you off—so p-please, daddy—hng!”

And who are you to reject it? You want to pound her tight cunt as much as you wanted her today and there’s no one to stop you right now, and neither is she. With the best of both worlds, you elevated the anticipating climax yet a brighter idea will make this session a wilder ride.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, princess—would pound your tight, perfect pussy so hard that you’re only going to think about me only.”

And there and there, everything went off the cliff, up to the highest paramount of events…

-----------------------------------

“Too good, daddy!” Your fingers up her delicious cunt never fails to earn the most heavenly whimpers escaping Wonyoung’s mouth, let alone fueling the lust inside you as your slit leaks precum just from the sight of her tight cunt squelching and clenching around your digits.

“It’s only going to get better from here, princess—” A harsh spank resonates around the puny room as the dissonance of her orchestrated moans makes your hardened length throb in need, unable to control anything. “—because I’m going to treat you like a princess but fuck you like how you deserve it.”

“W-wha—what d-did I deserve, daddy?”

“A rough one, Wony. Since you’ve done a great job at the start…”

As the heat in the air is still ignited, you take the last bit of teasing with your digits and hard spanks as you’re lost for words once you’ve plunged your length inside her. It never gets old and she’s still as suffocatingly tight as ever, not to mention with even the slightest of movement and her pussy responses with the tightest clench possible. Gripping her hips for a small leverage, you thrust in her slowly as you ensue a few kisses onto the nape of her neck, earning such moans that just makes you want to build up the pace even more.

“Ahh, daddy—it’s so good! You’re s-stretching me—ahh—so w-well…”

“And you take me so well, Wony. Your pussy is literally made for me to be hammered, hm?” You quicken the pace, just withdrawing with only the tip inside and then slamming back in, filling her up to the hilt. She mewls in every thrust you do, further arousing you as she grips onto the sheets as a leverage on the harsh acts you’re doing on her tight cunt. Adding some spanks in every oscillation of your hips, you notice how it clenches every time you do it and you’re loving every second of it—loving how helpless and lewd your princess has become is truly a sight to behold. 

“You’re so good at taking my huge cock, princess…” Your brush off her silky-smooth hair off her shoulders as you pepper her neck and back with kisses that further makes the act hotter than what could it be. You trace the curvature of her waist down to her slender thighs that probably run for days and god, why does a princess have to be this perfect? Down every last feature Wonyoung has is in its absolute flawless state and you can’t help but be in awe as you in every ram you do inside her clenching heat is the praise of her faultless figure.

“Good god, Wony—down to your beautiful face up to your pussy, you’re just so fucking perfect aren’t you?”

“Gah, daddy! Fuck me harder please!”

A spank as the retaliation of her hostile takeover of lust has won, and you, the dominative one will orchestrate things onto your own accord, not hers.

“Wonyoung, you’re lucky I can fuck this good because no one can and you’re mine—every perfectly tight hole in your body is mine to use, do you understand?” Between thrusts you spat her with venomous yet genuine words, but she could only cry in pleasure as your thrusts are just too much for her to think of something articulate enough of a response so, it only took her ten seconds to come up with something— “Yes, d-daddy—ahh!”

Such rampant actions never cease to make someone scream in delight and it’s every man's dream to be in this position. Kiss, spank, thrust and repeat, it goes around in circles and you’re not going to stop it because you’re in a state of do-or-die (figuratively, of course) because in any second now, you can feel yourself getting on your high and so is Wonyoung’s, her pussy creaming all over your enraged length is enough of an evidence.

“Wonyoung—fuck! You’re so tight and so good!”

“Daddy I’m going to c-cum—gahh, so s-soon! Please!”

That’s the green light to bring another onslaught of thrusts with no-return, hammering her cunt like it’s rent due alongside grabbing her hair for her heavenly moans to be unshackled (and if you’re wondering, her arms gave out two minutes earlier because of too much pleasure as she rested her hair onto the mattress, muffling her moans in which, you didn’t really like). With the obviously lewd moans (almost screams) of Wonyoung and the repetitive clenching of her tight heat, you know that she’s about to get off so you gave her the final set of the harshest thrusts possible to mankind as it was too enough and all are let out.

You pull out of her gripping pussy as she squirts all over the bedsheets, your cock and even to your toned abdomen. You finger her repetitively in a deft pace that she cries in a wanton need and that even fuels you further into abomination.

“You good, Wony?”

“Y-yes, daddy—unload it a-all in my pussy—” Her shining orbs pleads you onto her desires, wanting you to fulfill it. Her pupils dilate once again, anticipating on a good note with you— “—please…”

“I’m dying to cum inside this perfect pussy of yours, Wonyoung.”

Pinning her down onto the bed (not so harshly), you tease her pussy with your swollen cockhead for a bit, in which earns the finest moans escaping her lips and so are the needy whimpers. Without any time to waste, you plunge into her dripping core once again but this time, the penetration is crazingly-deep, achieving the sensation of a lifetime that makes you feel butterflies. You command her to place both of her legs onto your shoulders, wanting to achieve the deepest penetration possible as she did and god, that felt way better than earlier and it’s too heavenly to be true.

“Ahh—daddy—I—gahh, so so good and d-deep! Fuck me h-hard—cum i-inside me—gahh, please!”

The desperation in her eyes says it all. Even with the messed-up makeup, tears and her disheveled hair all over the place, it’s not even a challenge to sense how needy she is for you and your seed to be deposited inside her. Now bringing the thrusts that surpasses the harshness of your actions earlier, and making Wonyoung the most raucous she’s ever been—all in the experience on the paramount of delight as everything seems to be at that moment, just a step away from your both desired promised lands. You weren’t far off of your high and Wonyoung can sense it through your eyes as she helps out, fucking herself onto your length as you chase your high, grabbing her waist and hips harshly as the leverage with your relentless pursuit onto her pussy.

“I’m going to cum, Wonyoung! So fucking close in this perfect cunt of yours—fuck!”

And you break, everything loose as you bury your length inside her, balls-deep as you unload everything you’ve got and your moans and Wonyoung’s blessed the entire room as it reverberated all over. With your last groan and the hard grip of her hips, your orgasm finally subsided as it was an euphoric one—it was so euphoric that you almost passed out but it wasn’t really close. Wonyoung on the other hand, laid down flat on the bed, enervated from the steamy sex session yet she smiles widely, knowing that your load is inside her pussy as the warmth of it elicits the sultriest of moans.

“Thank you, daddy—hah… For this load… Hah, I love i-it…”

That changed your demeanor from a stern, dominative one to softer, warmhearted as you blush because of her, feeling so grateful and thankful for this moment as the earlier omnipotence of power now subsided, back to your old self.

“Thank you too, Wonyoung—you took me so well… hah, that was exhausting…”

“Yeah, I know, oppa…” She brushes her fingers all over your chest, tracing it slowly as she looks at you endearingly, her eyes telling you how much she loved this moment, disregarding the fact of the pain that she felt—she liked it because it turned her on even more—from all of your harshness and spanking. She’s genuine about it and you could tell it without her even uttering a single word.

“We should clean up, oppa, actually.”

“Yeah, oh no, I think you need some new set of sheets after this.”

“You’re the one to blame here, oppa! You made me squirt so hard!!”

And the bratty, sophisticated Wonyoung is back and here we go again, back from the despair and being the bugbear she is…