#like do u guys know how expensive a fucking mattress is

[inamagicalhallucination]

i know i say that atsushi likes to spend his extra cash on kyouka but i also dont think kyouka lives there for "free" like she could, atsushi wouldn't mind, but i feel like it makes more sense for her to contribute since its not like atsushi's rolling in cash

maybe atsushi wouald be hesitant at a 50-50 thing becuz she's so little and he cares so much about her but i dont believe its 0-100 ya know?

#like i feel like in fics there'll be throw away lines the author probably didnt over think about atsushi deciding not to eat becuz he spent #his last change on kyouka #i think kyouka would pull a 36th before she let her brother go hungry even for a moment if she had the money #which i mean she works a job so she probably gets paid #i feel like their financial burden is becuz they don't have anything ya know #like its different spending ur money on bills and food and shit vs having to buy furniture and get new things #like do u guys know how expensive a fucking mattress is #insane #what else #oh right its not becuz she would just let him spend all his money on her and be broke #and suffer #anyway i need u guys to put respect on kyouka's name and kyouka and atsushi's relationship

[bruh-changbin]

read u, wrote u

pairing: librarian!changbin x afab reader x frat boy!jisung

requested: no

genre: fluff, smut, just a tinge of angst (minors dni)

warnings: fingering (f receiving), semi-public sex, lowkey exhibitionism, cum eating, unprotected sex (be safe) and use of the pull out method (do not do this)

word count: 6.8k

a/n: my own contribution to my own collab! a big thank you to all of the other fabulous writers who participated, pls go read their fics! this is quite self indulgent as it is my dream to get railed in a library, but thank you to @seo--changbin for giving me inspo on librarian changbin and @ddeungies for helping me figure out the smut scene 😵‍💫 also lowkey contributing to the glorification of frat boys with jisung in this fic, so just a reminder to make sure you and your partner get tested before any kind of sexual interaction (be safe y'all). enjoyyy (also yes the title is from rpdr)

photos not mine, credits to original owners (retrieved from pinterest)

“fuck, you’re like, sucking me in.”

“mmhm.”

“it’s like a- shit… like an octopus.”

…what the fuck? weird comparison but ok.

the man currently pistoning his fingers in and out of you with little regards to precision is none other than han jisung, fuck boy extrordanaire. 

jisung is clearly the kind of guy that’s not enrolled in university because he cares about school and getting a degree. if he was, he wouldn’t be in a frat. jisungs days are mostly filled with blowing off lectures to sleep in and eat 5 day old stale pizza. he claims that bench pressing is a religion and drinks upwards of 3 protein shakes a day, all while somehow managing to just barely pass all of his courses. 

typical behaviour of someone who drops thousands of dollars on tuition and living expenses for the sake of party culture. he’s also just not very smart.

he’s not stupid per se, but he’s definitely someone you would categorize as a himbo. attractive, kinda muscular, likes to fuck but doesn’t actually know how to do it well. disregard that; it’s not that he doesn’t know how to do it well, it’s just that he isn’t particularly concerned about how much pleasure his partner is receiving. 

which is why you internally rejoice when he pulls his fingers out of you, sucking at them briefly before placing his hand beside your head to somewhat trap you underneath him.

“ready for my dick, babygirl?”

ew. it’s 2022, do people still say babygirl? 

“ready as i’ll ever be,” you groan with a hint of repulsion; a hint that the man on top of you does not pick up on.

the whole ordeal lasts about a minute. jisung almost finishes the second he sticks his dick inside of you, but manages to compose himself before thrusting in a manner that can only be described as sloppy. he continuously mutters phrases like ‘fuck you’re so tight’ and ‘you like that?’ while fucking you into his mattress that feels like a cardboard box. 

eventually, he finishes and rolls off of you before sticking his hand out to give you a fist bump. nice.

jisung reaches over to his nightstand to pick up a tv remote, mumbling a quiet ‘anything you wanna watch?’ as he browses various streaming platforms. when you shake your head no, he presses play on some random anime and falls asleep in less than 5 minutes.

you lie underneath jisung’s stale bed sheets for several moments, wanting to wait until he’s fully asleep before you can slip out so as to avoid an awkward conversation. when soft snores pass his lips, you know you’re in the clear, and you pull your clothes back on before sneaking out of his bedroom and into the night.

・・・・・

“so? han jisung? how was it!!?” sana asks with way too much energy for someone that woke up at 7:00 am.

“to say it was horrible would be an understatement.” you groan while slipping into the seat across from her in your campus student centre.

“you’re kidding, for real??! all of the girls he’s hooked up with act as if he’s some kind of sex god…”

you haphazardly toss your worn in tote bag into the empty seat beside you before sighing, “dude has no idea what he’s doing.”

“but he was supposed to fuck the stress out of you...” sana says with a frown, her gaze travelling to her half-empty matcha latte.

sana’s a good friend. she gets good grades and encourages you to do your assignments. she likes to read and is a frequent customer at the campus starbucks - she says it’s because her best friend, jeongyeon, is one of the baristas but you know it’s because she has a crippling caffeine addiction.

when you complain about having nothing to wear she lets you borrow her clothes, and in return you help her touch up the roots of her hair. the two of you drink wine in an attempt to act like adults who have their shit together, but you both make weekly calls to your parents when you can’t figure out how to work the stove or need to fill out your taxes.

you tell eachother secrets and have spent multiple nights staying up until the sun begins to rise while venting about your life problems. it’s a perfectly codependent friendship.

so, it was only natural that a couple weeks ago you let it slip to sana that bouts of stress were eating away at you as the end of the semester was approaching.

“my neck hurts and my ribs are tight and i have a constant headache, i swear all of my profs want me dead,” you ponder aloud to your best friend/roommate while sipping on prosecco mixed with orange juice (childish, i know - but wine tastes like shit), “maybe i’m dying.”

“you’re not dying, y/n,” sana assures you while tucking her knees into her chest on her spot on your couch, “you’re just stressed.”

after that conversation you tried everything.

meditation, yoga… ok fine just meditation and yoga, but they did little to ease the constant barrage of emotions and achiness and fatigue.

“when was the last time you got laid?” the question fell from sana’s lips with ease right after you had made a particularly raunchy comment about pedro pascal in the mandalorian.

that’s a great question - one that you did not know the answer to. you stare up at the ceiling while trying to count backwards in your head, eventually muttering “uhh… i don’t know, honestly.”

and so operation get fucked was underway. it’s textbook: receiving pleasure is a sure fire way to rid yourself of your worries and woes and leave you feeling like a brand new person. all you need to do is find a willing candidate who can bring you to orgasm - your vibrator can only do so much.

 lucky for you, the guys in your university’s frat were always dtf, and you had heard the girl you sat next to during your poli sci seminars mention jisung not too long ago. 

your plan was foolproof; jisung would blow your back out and you’d wake up feeling like a whole new person, ready to conquer the endless bout of essays, research proposals and exams that have been thrown at you by your professors.

until it backfired when you found out from first hand experience that han jisung is bad at sex.

breaking the news to sana is almost more upsetting than the hookup itself. 

you watch as her face forms into one of disgust and shock as you recount the events from last night, “he gave me a fist bump after he finished.”

sana cringes especially hard at that, but then erupts into a fit of laughter - you can’t blame her.

“so operation get fucked was a bust,” she sips her drink, “but you really need to work on this romanticism assignment.” typical sana bringing up academics when it’s the last thing you want to talk about.

“ugh, i hate that course. i should just take the 0.”

sana rolls her eyes, “don’t think like that y/n! you’ve at least started it right?”

you have not, and sana clues in on this due to your prolonged silence.

“dude, this paper is due in 2 days… get a move on!!”

“fiiiine, i’ll go to the library right now” you huff in exasperation while slinging your bag over your shoulder and standing up. you were being dramatic, but you wanted sana to feel some guilt for pressuring you to work - she’s the one who made you take this course in the first place.

your guilt tripping clearly doesn’t work on sana as she just diverts her attention back to her laptop, not even bothering to spare you one final glance. you roll your eyes before walking away from your table and beginning to make your way across campus.

・・・・・

libraries are the worst.

they smell like dust and mildew and half of the books on the shelves are so worn out the pages feel like they’ll disintegrate the second you touch them .

not to mention that people who frequent the library are so pretentious. the second you make a noise louder than a decibel there are half a dozen people shooting daggers at you with their eyes.

let’s just get this over with.

having only been in the library a handful of times before this one, it takes you some time to find everything on your list. why are library shelving systems so confusing? all of the books you need are somewhat similar in terms of content but all ended up being in completely different sections.

oh well, you’ve got everything you need. time to get the fuck out of here. 

you toss your stack of books onto the desk at the front, failing to notice how the dull thump! startles the student librarian since you’re digging through your bag in an attempt to find your student card.

the man behind the desk looks at you, somewhat taken aback by your insolent demeanour, but begins to scan your books anyway while analysing your choices.

“shelley? i thought most people read frankenstein in highschool…”

his sudden words pull you out of your student-card-finding stupor, and you blink a few times while you process what he said.

“i didn’t realise judging students' choices in literature is one of your job requirements,” you glance at his name tag, “changbin.”

“i’m not judging! just making an observation.” 

“it sure sounded like you were judging.”

changbin throws his hands up in defence before scanning the rest of your books, undoubtedly cursing you out in his mind.

he prompts you to scan your student card before sliding the pile of books across the desk towards you, muttering a quiet ‘they’re due in 2 weeks’ before focusing on the desktop computer in front of him.

grabbing your books and shoving them into your bag, you catch him giving you one final disparaging look as you exit the library.

asshole.

・・・・・

for some reason unbeknownst to you, jisung had taken a liking to you after his failed attempt to give you an orgasm. so, it surprised you when he approached you outside of your lecture hall to ask you to come to a party he’s throwing tonight.

“it’ll be fun! you can meet all of my friends and we can hangout and maybe fool around a bit, eh?”

you don’t know why you said yes. maybe somewhere in the back of your mind you thought that within the few days it’s been since you hooked up with jisung he had somehow gotten better at sex and could actually fuck you.

or it could be because he looked like a lost puppy as he waited for your response while standing outside the building you were just in (how did he know what class you had?). his hair was fluffy and his eyes were wide as he gazed at you expectantly, the sleeves of his hoodie covered his knuckles as his fingers gripped the straps of his backpack.

so you agreed, and jisung did a small victory fist pump. since when did frat boys catch feelings?

now it’s nearing 10:00 pm, and you’re tearing apart your bedroom in search of a party outfit while getting an earful from sana, who’s on speakerphone.

“why on earth are you going to a party y/n!?” she bashes you through the phone, her voice hushed since she’s in the student centre again, planning on pulling an all-nighter, “need i remind you that this assignment is worth 40% of our grade?”

“listen,” you start while pulling several shirts out of their drawers, “after the party, i’ll stop at the convenience store on the corner by campus to buy a monster, and then i’ll meet up with you for an all-nighter!”

silence, and then: “you and i both know that’s not gonna happen.”

you roll your eyes knowing full well that sana can’t see you.

“i’ll get the assignment done, i promise. i’ll devote my entire day tomorrow to working on it in the library.” 

mention of the library reminds you of your less than pleasant experience there earlier today. “hey do you know the student librarian changbin? god he is such a cunt,” you seethe while changing shirts.

“i’ve seen him there a few times, he seems nice!” 

“you think everybody’s nice, sana.”

a familiar ping from your phone interrupts you, notifying you that your uber has pulled up outside of your apartment.

“i’ve gotta go, i’ll see you soon and i will get this assignment done. love ya!”

you hang up before sana can give you another lecture.

the ride to jisung’s frat is fairly short, and the lawn is already teeming with drunk university students upon your arrival. jisung is standing on the sidewalk waiting for you, his face lit up by the blue glow of his phone, and you get out and greet him.

with jisung’s arm wrapped around your waist you make your way inside. the party is busier than you thought it would be, what with it being a thursday night near the end of the semester you expected it to be a bit more sparse. but these are frat guys and sorority girls - partying is practically their only personality trait.

jisung pulls you over to a group of guys sitting on leather couches that are worse for wear, which is unsurprising considering the amount of people that have sat on them throughout the school year. all of the guys nod at you nonchalantly as jisung introduces you as ‘his girl’, and you try not to gag. why did you agree to this?

cheers erupt from the kitchen as 2 buff guys, who jisung tells you are chan and minho, carry in a keg and place it on the kitchen counter with a dull thud. jisung doesn’t let go of you as he weasels his way through the crowd and pours you a glass of copper coloured beer. you take a sip; it tastes like shit.

you spend god knows how long sitting on one of those crusty leather couches, sipping dry beer and trying not to grimace at the tart coating it leaves on your tongue and lips. jisung keeps his arm wrapped around you the entire time, his palm now sweaty against the exposed skin of your waist. 

the floors and walls shake as the bass from the obnoxious house music blasts through subwoofers, and the red and white strobe lights give you a headache. somewhere someone sparks up a joint, and the putrid scent adds to the mix and overwhelms your senses. you feel like puking even though you’ve barely had anything to drink.

placing your cup down you push yourself off of the couch, intent on getting some fresh air. jisung calls out for you but soon loses sight of you in the sea of people that fills his living room. 

upon making it to the shoddy back door, you swing it open and step outside onto the concrete patio, revelling in the freshness of the spring night. the backyard space is sizable - people are playing pong and flip cup on flimsy card tables set up on the grass while others dance and converse around them. an in-ground pool in the centre of the yard space emits an aquamarine glow as people in bikinis and swim trunks whack each other with pool noodles.

the scent of weed and sweat is replaced with that of grass and a faintness of chlorine - your lungs thank you as you take a deep inhale. it appears that jisung hasn’t come to look for you, and you don’t know if you should be offended or relieved. 

although the backyard’s not empty, you’re able to fully stretch out both of your arms without bumping into someone, which is good enough for you.

party tip: if you’re looking for some alone time outside, head to the sides of the house, they’re almost always empty (occasionally you will come across people hooking up - exercise caution). 

you step off the concrete patio and make your way to the right side of the house. all you need is a dark, quiet place where you can order an uber and go home. what you find instead is a certain someone enthralled in whatever he’s doing on his phone.

“hey, it’s the judgy librarian!”

changbin, having thought that he was alone, snaps his head up at your sudden exclamation, watching as you shuffle through the grass to where he’s standing.

“why are you here?” he questions while folding his arms across his toned chest, his sweater creasing in the process, “and i told you i was just making an observation.”

“i happened to be invited” you sneer while pulling your phone. the sudden burst of brightness from the screen is reminiscent of the strobe lights inside; it stuns you for a second and you lean against the brick exterior of the house.

“...are you okay?” changbin eyes you with concern, “you look kind of pale.”

this is weird, is the librarian suddenly being nice to you?

“yea, just a little woozy,” you say with a huff, “i’ll be fine though.”

a sudden stillness settles over the two of you, and it’s quiet spare for the people partying several feet away. you quickly order an uber and then let your hands rest at your sides.

your eyes fall upon changbins face and you scan his features. he has the hood of his tan sweater pulled up, and his ebony bangs are just long enough to cover his brows. he has a prominent cupids bow, and in the absence of good lighting his irises blend into his pupils making them look like tapioca pearls. he looks soft and clean, and you tear your eyes off of him to prevent yourself from catching feelings. 

“why don’t we start over. clean slate.”

changbin considers your proposition for a moment, and then answers “...okay.” 

it’s slightly odd, watching changbin ponder your proposition before turning on his heel and walking away from you. he stops just a couple feet away, his back facing you, before shaking his head slightly and turning back around.

you watch with amusement as he does a double take when he looks at you again, clearly trying to pretend like this is the first time he’s ever laid eyes on you, before confidently striding back to where he had been standing moments prior.

“are you from tennessee? because-” 

“dear god, that is your go-to pick up line?”

a beat of silence, and changbin mumbles a quiet but diffident “...yes?”

you laugh at his bashfulness, a whole-hearted laugh where your eyes squeeze shut and your nose crinkles. 

“what’s wrong with it!?” changbin whines like a 4 year old. 

“it’s so cheesy!” you chuckle, “there’s no way you could pull anyone with that.”

changbin raises his eyebrows before responding, “you’d be surprised.” upon noticing your unconvinced facial expression, he rolls his eyes. “what do you think a good pick-up line is, then?”

“you could just ask them for their number.”

“okay, can i have your number?”

you laugh, and then you notice changbin’s anticipatory expression as he pulls his phone out of the big pocket of his hoodie. oh, he’s serious.

taking changbins phone in your hands, you create a new contact and add your number as well as your name, since you have yet to tell him that. handing the device back to him, he takes a look at the information you entered and whispers “y/n, i like that.”

that makes you more flustered than you’d care to admit. thankfully your own phone vibrates in your pocket at the same time, so you can blame the sudden fluttering feeling in your tummy on that. a familiar notification pops up on your homescreen, letting you know that your uber has pulled up and is waiting outside.

with reluctance you say goodbye to changbin, telling him to text you, before walking through the side gate and getting into the car so you can go home.

・・・・・

“rise and shine!” sana’s voice wakes you right before you’re blinded by the golden glow of the sun as she yanks your blinds open.

you’re only given seconds to recuperate before your comforter is torn off of your body, causing you to curl up into a ball like a potato bug to preserve heat.

“what the fuck sana..” you groan in annoyance while rubbing your eyes. what time is it?

“you said you’re going to devote your whole day to your assignment, so i’m making sure you get a head start!” sana says cheerfully before leaving your room.

rolling over, you pick up your phone to check the time. 7:00 am! this bitch is crazy.

“i made your favourite breakfast, so get up!” sana shouts from down the hall before making her way downstairs.

the thing about sana is that as much as she encourages you to finish your own assignments, she rarely actually helps you with them out of fear of breaking your university’s academic code of conduct. so this is how she helps you: forcing you to wake up at the ass crack of dawn and then bribing you to get up with the promise of pancakes.

rolling out of your bed, you make your way over to your closet - which is still a mess from when you raided it last night. appearance is not your top priority today, so you slip on a pair of baggy jeans and a sweatshirt before heading downstairs.

just as sana had said, a sky-high stack of blueberry pancakes is waiting for you once you enter the kitchen. sana has her favourite pink apron on while she flips some more on your stove.

you douse a few pancakes in butter and syrup and eat what you can before standing up to do your dishes. sana grabs your plate and ushers you towards the door instead, claiming that you ‘have a shit ton of work to do so you better get started’ - and she’s right, this assignment is a lengthy one.

the walk to the library is quite beautiful in all honesty. the sky is a hazy blue as the sun creeps it’s way up the horizon, birds sing their songs while flying from tree to tree. campus is sparse with students, only the few people with 8:00 am lectures or assignments that need to be completed are awake at this time.

swinging open the heavy double doors to the library, you make your way inside while trying to ignore the disappointment you feel when you see someone at the library desk that isn’t changbin.

he did text you last night to tell you that he had today off, so it’s not surprising, but unfortunate nonetheless. whatever, at least that means his good looks won’t be able to distract you!

heading up the industrial staircase to the second floor, you find a spot at one of the large oak tables in the back corner, pressed up right against some book shelves. a large window to the left of you grants you the view of your campus, and with that you get to work.

the sun in the sky tracks your progress throughout the day, and by the time the view outside your window is dark, you’ve managed to complete all of the arguments for your paper. this is great! now all that’s left is the introduction and conclusion, which have always been your least favourite parts to write.

“library’s closed,” a familiar voice pulls you out of your essay writing trance, “you should go home.”

“sorry! I just got dis-” you cut yourself off when you look up to see no other than changbin making his way over to you with a smile on his face. his torso is covered with an olive green cashmere sweater, the fabric straining against his biceps and pecs. he’s pushing an ivory coloured cart stacked with books in front of him, but stops when he reaches the desk you’re stationed at. 

“you’re lucky the librarian has a soft spot for you or else you’d be getting kicked out.”

“a soft spot? i’m flattered.” in all honesty you are flattered, and you bashfully divert your gaze from changbin’s when you feel your cheeks begin to heat up. it’s then you notice that the library is completely void of other students, and the two of you are alone. time really slipped away from you while you were working as you check the clock on your laptop and realise that it’s nearing midnight. 

“i thought you weren’t working today?” you ask changbin before shutting your laptop and slipping your borrowed books into your bag.

“i wasn’t, but the other student librarian felt sick halfway through her shift, so I came in to clean up,” changbin starts, but upon noticing that you’re getting ready to leave, adds on: “wanna help?”

nodding your head in agreement, you hang your bag off of the back of the chair you were previously sitting in before stepping to where changbin’s standing. 

pushing the library cart in front of him, he makes his way to the bookshelf behind the row of tables you were working at. you follow behind him, stopping when he does.

“this is the classics section,” he motions to the shelves in front of you. “all you have to do is look at the code on the spine, find where it goes on the shelf, and then mark it as re-shelved in the catalogue. simple.”

it is simple. changbin hands you a copy of the catcher in the rye and then waits for you to follow his instructions. F173 is the code on the book’s spine, so you look at the shelf, find the book marked as F172, and then slide your book beside it.

“see? i told you it was easy. you’re a natural!” changbin gushes while scribbling a check mark beside the title of the book you just re-shelved in the return catalogue.

you stay in place as you watch changbin do exactly what you just did with the other books - albeit he is much faster at it than you were.

he picks up a book, a worn-in copy of pride & prejudice, looks at the code and then looks at you before mumbling a quick ‘sorry’. at first you’re confused, what’s he sorry for? but then he pushes up against you, his chest to your back, as he reaches up to re-shelf the book in the spot directly above your head.

when he’s done he doesn’t move away from you - and you don’t want him to. his torso remains pressed up against your back, and you feel his breath on your neck and the shell of your ear.

with some apprehension you look over your right shoulder and find changbin staring back at you, his eyes dark as his gaze flits between your lips and your eyes. the tips of your noses are practically touching since you’re so close, and you can smell the spearmint gum he has in his mouth.

acting on impulse, you lean in and press your lips to changbin’s in a short, soft kiss before pulling away and letting changbin make the next move.

he kisses you again, and you indulge in the feeling of his plush lips pressed against yours. changbin kisses you like he has all the time in the world - in essence you do, since the library is closed. he takes his time with you, his buff arms moving to wrap around your waist giving you a sense of security.

his teeth nip and suck at your bottom lip and you whimper in response, your tongue darting out to trace his lips before parting them. changbin groans as you slide your tongue against his, both of your mouths becoming slick with spit. he sucks on your tongue while pressing his chest right up against you, ensuring there’s absolutely no space between your bodies.

you can feel changbin’s hands travelling lower and lower from where they were previously resting on your waist. with reluctance he detaches his lips from yours, his eyes staring back at yours with a certain hunger - a hunger that only you can satisfy. although you miss the warm feeling of changbin’s lips on yours, your neck thanks you as you look forward again, no longer having to crane your head over your shoulder for the sake of kissing the man behind you.

you brace yourself against the wooden frame of the bookshelf in front of you, your face pressed up against tattered copies of jane eyre, little women, and mansfield park.

the tips of changbins fingers are soft and warm as they delicately trace the skin on your lower abdomen, moving the hem of your shirt before grasping the waistband of your jeans. with his right hand he deftly pops open the copper button before dragging the zipper down with ease while his left hand grips your waist.

the rough denim of your pants is somewhat restricting, but changbin manages to slip his hand inside, his fingers moving to touch you over your panties. the fabric feels rough as changbin massages your cunt, his index and middle fingers tracing your labia briefly before he retracts his hand.

soft sucking noises can be heard as changbin puts his fingers into his mouth, coating them with spit before releasing them from his lips with a soft pop. he moves his hand back to where it was moments prior, only this time he slips his fingers under the elastic waistband of your underwear. 

changbin’s fingers are curious as he explores your cunt, which is practically sopping wet at this point. his digits don’t stay in one place for longer than a second as he drags them through your folds, briefly brushing them against your clit causing you to jolt in surprise. it feels good but it’s not enough. 

“changbin~ i need more.”

he chuckles, it’s deep and makes you feel a certain way, before complying with your request by slipping his middle finger into you. your body reacts automatically, your back arching and your cunt clenching in response to the slight stretch. changbin’s saliva coated finger glides in and out of you with ease, his thrusts are slow and calculated so as to ensure your comfort.

“think you can take one more?”

you nod, your nose bumping into the wood bookcase that you’re still pressed up against. changbin’s ring finger joins his middle inside of you, and you whine at the pleasure it gives you. his fingers are thick and long, and you feel your knees buckle when he strokes your g-spot. 

the heel of his palm brushes against your clit with each and every movement of his hand, causing your abs to tense at the pleasure building up inside of you. it feels as if your nerves are on fire and your stomach is in knots as changbin brings you closer and closer to cumming. your brows furrow and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth as changbin fucks your pussy with his fingers, his strokes becoming faster and deeper as you squirm against him.

with one final thrust you cream all over changbin’s digits, his name falling from your lips like it’s the only word you know. his lips attach to your neck and he sucks and nips at your skin as he removes his fingers from your cunt. 

in one swift motion changbin grasps your hips before guiding you back to the wooden desk you were sitting at before he arrived. the bones of your hips bump against the edge of the desk changbin now has you pressed against, and you slip off your sneakers before grabbing the waistbands of your jeans and panties before yanking them off in one swift motion.

a pair of firm, warm hands come into contact with your shoulder blades and push you down so you’re bent over the desk. you turn your head so your cheek is resting on the hard surface, allowing yourself to get as comfortable as possible in this position. with your ass pressed up against changbin’s crotch, you can feel his cock straining against the denim of his jeans; you tease a little by pushing your hips back against his. 

the sound of a zipper being pulled down makes your heart race, and you look behind you to the best of your abilities to see changbin unbuttoning his jeans before tugging them down to his mid thigh. he does the same with his navy blue boxers, his dick slapping against his lower stomach upon being released. you place your cheek back on the desk and try not to drool.

changbin spits in his right palm before wrapping it around his cock, pumping his shaft several times before grabbing onto your hip with his free left hand. he teasingly drags the tip of his dick through your slick folds before stopping at your entrance, enjoying the way your cunt looks absolutely drenched all because of him. 

“do something, changbin!” you whine impatiently, moving your hips from side to side as if you’re enticing him to fuck you. thankfully changbin needs you just as much as you need him, so he complies with your plea and pushes his dick into your tight pussy. 

his cock stretches you in all the right ways, filling you up so perfectly that you think he must’ve been made for you. 

“so big…” you whimper as changbin starts to fuck you, his demenour doing a complete 180 from when he fingered you just a minute ago. immediately his thrusts are rough and deep, his hips coming in contact with your ass with every movement and his hands firmly planted on either side of your shoulders to give himself leverage.

your nails scratch and claw at the varnished surface of the wooden desk, unable to grab onto something to keep yourself in check. everytime changbin grinds into you your hip bones bang against the edge of the desk, and you’re sure that tomorrow they’ll be various shades and hues of purple and blue. your moans become more breathy and desperate 

the feeling of changbin pulling his cock out of you can only be described as devastating. dramatic, i know, but he felt so good inside of you and gave you no warning as to why he would pull out. 

all of your previous thoughts are pushed aside when changbin grips you by the hair and pulls you up so your back is flush against his chest once again. his hand grasps your shoulder and he turns you around before pushing you against the desk again, although you’re now on your back

you’re sure you look like a mess - what with your hair sticking to your face with sweat and your lips all swollen and red from you biting them. but changbin just moans gutterally upon seeing your fucked out expression before shoving his cock back into your cunt and striking up a ruthless pace again.

your legs wrap around changbins torso to force his body impossibly closer to yours, and you grind your hips upwards to meet changbin’s.

going braless was the right move to make this morning since changbin easily pushes your sweatshirt up to your collarbones, the fabric bunching around your neck. he wastes no time before placing his mouth on your left breast, his lips wrapping around nipple as he sucks and licks your skin.

he thrusts into you with more fervour, a non-verbal cue that he’s close to finishing - and so are you. detangling your fingers from his hair, you move your right hand down to your clit to rub it in time with the movements of changbin’s hips.

“changbin - ah!” you moan aloud as you feel your orgasm creeping up on you. your legs are aching and you can hear your pulse rushing in your ears as changbin fucks you relentlessly, the legs of the desk making an obnoxious scraping noise against the cement floor in time with changbin’s thrusts.

in one moment everything comes crashing down as your orgasm ploughs over you like a train at top speed. you arch your back and changbin continues to fuck you, likely chasing his own orgasm. your moans, that are borderline screams, echo off of the high ceiling of the library, which looks as if it's swirling as your vision struggles to return to normal. waves of pleasure roll over your as your heart pounds against your chest, your breathing just as erratic.

changbin soon pulls out of you, fisting his own dick as he moans your name over and over. seconds laters he finishes all over your bare stomach. it feels warm and wet, and you watch as changbin braces himself against the desk to prevent himself from collapsing onto the floor. 

eventually your heartbeat slows, and you lift your arm from where it was resting beside you to your stomach. changbin watches with the eyes of a hawk as you drag 2 of your fingers from your bellybutton to the bottom of your ribs, your digits getting coated in his cum in the process. popping them into your mouth, you suck on them dramatically before swallowing greedily, changbin’s eyes never straying from you in the process.

“fuck, you’re hot,” changbin groans before tucking his dick back into his boxers, and you giggle. repeating your previous actions, changbin uses his index and middle fingers to gather some of his cum from the pool on your stomach before shoving them into your mouth, causing you to gag slightly as his fingertips graze the back of your throat. 

once your stomach is clean, changbin grabs the hem of your sweater and pulls it down over your chest before helping you sit up so you can retrieve your panties and jeans. your back and scalp are sweaty and your stomach is sticky, but you’re too blissed out to care. 

changbin looks at you and is about to speak before a bright fluorescent light blinds both of you.

“hey! you two can’t be in here, the library’s closed!” a campus security guard shouts at you from where he’s standing at the far end of the room, his flashlight shining on yours and changbin’s faces.

“it’s ok, i’m the librarian,” changbin waves while trying to block out the blinding white light, “we just finished- i mean, we’re just finishing up!”

the security guard just waves dismissively before heading back downstairs, grumbling some stupid shit about students and their recklessness. you make eye contact with changbin before you both burst out in a fit of laughter; the kind of laughter where you tear up and clutch your stomach because you’re laughing so hard.

“that’s never happened before.” changbin regains his composure, a toothy grin still plastered on his face.

“what, fucking someone in the library or being busted by security?” you question him, a small smirk present on your face as he answers: “both.”

changbin’s gaze falls to the library cart, which is still full of books that he was supposed to be putting away instead of blowing your back out. he raises an eyebrow before looking at you expectantly. sighing, you walk over and grab the cart before pulling it towards the dozens of bookcases, “we better get started then.”

so you get to work as changbin’s library assistant, and the two of you organise books while talking and laughing and kissing (just a little).

・・・・・

today’s a great day. it’s sunny, the temperature is perfect outside, and there's not a cloud in the sky. you woke up feeling light and airy, like some kind of invisible weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. operation get fucked had been a success!

your good mood only doubled when you went to the campus starbucks where jeongyeon, upon recognizing you as sana’s friend, gave you your drink for free. and to top it all off, when you checked your phone you had a text from changbin who told you he’s coming to pick you up for a lunch date. nothing can knock you off of your high horse today.

meeting sana on the concrete steps outside of her lecture hall, you gush about your late night library rendezvous with changbin, watching her eyes light up in delight as you recount what happened.

“in the library??! girl you’re a freak.” 

a friendly beep of a car horn pulls you out of your conversation, and you look over to the parking lot to see changbin stepping out of his red sedan, waiting for you to join him.

sana squeals with excitement upon seeing your date standing in the parking lot, prompting you to ‘go get some’ while pushing you off the steps and towards changbin.

as you make your way over to changbin with a skip in your step, sana shouts one more thing.

“you finished your assignment though, right?”

fuck.

#forever wishing sana was my bff #stray kids smut #skz smut #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #han jisung smut #skz fanfiction #seo changbin x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz blurbs #seo changbin scenarios

[ohbuckie]

FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT

college!bucky x reader

summary: bucky fucks you on his bedroom floor.

warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected sex

word count: 2.3k

masterlist

Bucky’s room is at the end of the hall. It’s decorated simply—white rug in the center of the floor, a desk sharing a wall with the door, a few posters littering the walls, a dresser across from the bed in the corner of the room. His bed frame is metal and cheap; flimsy, to say the least. He holds onto it while he fucks you—arm outstretched above your head, trying desperately to keep it from slamming against the wall and using the leverage it gives him to pound into you harder.

His friends’ rooms are both attached to his, with their common wall being the front one that the door is on. Sam and Steve have gotten used to banging on the walls of their bedroom in protest of the loud sex happening on the other side, or even sitting in the hallway and knocking on the door. Of course, this means nothing to Bucky, who could probably ignore a category seven earthquake in order to finish. He’s nothing if not thorough.

He tries to be considerate. He plays music loudly—something with lots of bass, to drown out at least a little bit of the sound—but it renders itself useless in between every song, when both of the guys can hear every sound the two of you make. Good sleep is a lost cause in apartment 4B.

Arriving home from a double date with your roommate, you let your jacket—Bucky’s, actually—fall from your shoulders, and you catch it in your hands to hang it up by the door. You kick off your shoes, run your fingers through your hair, find your boyfriend who scurried away to the kitchen, plant a kiss on his lips.

“That was fun.” You say, running your hands up his chest, remembering how he kissed you in the cab on the way here. He smiles and leans on the counter with the heels of his palms, with you in between his arms, in front of his chest.

His lips find yours, and you cup his cheeks in your hands, accepting the tongue that he runs along your lower lip. He tastes like the red wine that he had with his dinner and smells like the expensive cologne that you gifted him last Christmas.

“I don’t think the guys are home.” He says against your mouth, and you smile, breaking the kiss and practically running down the hallway.

He follows you to his bedroom, his hand making contact with your ass, leaving it stinging while you twist the knob and push the door open. He beats you to the bed, sitting on the edge with his legs open, waiting for you to climb onto his lap. You straddle him, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and his lips attach to your neck, delivering wet, hot kisses to your throat and collarbones. He runs his hands over your body—along your shoulder blades, down your spine, across your lower back—appreciating the figure-hugging black minidress that you’re wearing.

You lean forward to push him onto his back, catching yourself on your hands, which are positioned on either side of his head. You grind against his lap and he flips you onto your back in response, rolling his hips into yours.

You kiss like pornstars, swapping saliva between your mouths through tongues and clashing teeth, sucking and biting at plush lips. With his hips between your thighs, your dress inches further up your legs, making your red thong visible.

Your hands are free, and you use this opportunity to pull his shirt out of his pants and unbutton it until it’s open. The two sides hang down, exposing the top of his prosthetic arm and the outrageously defined muscles of his torso.

“Bucky.” You breathe, lips wetly separating from his.

“You okay?”

You nod. “Just want you.”

He chuckles teasingly, nudging your chin upwards with his nose and kissing down to your chest. You arch your back into him, pushing your fingers into the hair at the base of his head.

The room is dark, except for the animated screensaver of the open laptop of his desk and the moonlight that pours through the blinds perfectly, casting rigid bars of light across the wall opposite the bed. You reach to the nightstand beside you, pulling the cord on the lamp and wincing when it turns on as you’re staring at the bulb.

He pulls away and gathers himself, licking his lips and pushing hair from his forehead while he catches his breath. He looks up at you and smiles sweetly, kissing your cheek before standing from the bed and unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his slacks, pulling the zipper down, shoving them past his thighs. His belt hits the floor with a jingle and he steps out of the pants that are now pooled around his ankles. Dark gray briefs are revealed, and you appreciate how nicely they cling to his legs and ass. You remember an earlier comment from him about “fancy underwear,” and you giggle to yourself when you realize that this is what he was talking about.

“What’s funny?”

“‘Fancy underwear.’” You repeat to him, and he cracks a smile before he steps over to you to get back to business.

Instead of removing your dress, he pushes it up past your hips, harshly pulling your panties down and out of his way. He kneels in front of you and kisses your inner thighs, moving up to your pussy, ghosting over it with his lips for a moment before pressing a delicate kiss to your clit, his eyes trained on yours. His gaze remains unwavering when he licks a stripe up your entire pussy. His tongue pushes between your folds and applies pressure to your sensitive bud, and you both moan—you at the sensation and him at the taste.

“Buck.” You whine. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me.”

He sighs, disappointed that he can’t eat you out. Not that he isn’t excited to fuck you.

He stands and steps out of his underwear, tossing them behind his right shoulder. His cock stands against his stomach, seemingly thrilled to be freed from its fabric prison. You can’t take your eyes off of it—pretty and pink, fairly long and definitely thick enough.

He spreads his large hand over your lower stomach and lets his thumb hover over your bundle of nerves, keeping it still, for now. He gives his cock a few pumps, holding it just below the head to line it up with your entrance. He looks at you while he pushes in, because he loves the way that your eyes squeeze shut and your hips wiggle to get more comfortable with his intrusion.

He chews on his bottom lip, waiting until you stop clenching and fluttering around him before he moves. When he does, you reach to the hand on your stomach and hold his wrist tightly. He uses his other hand to put your right leg over his left shoulder, the cold metal of his mechanical hand at variance with your hot skin. You take the initiative to put your other leg up on your own.

His movements are less of a rhythmic roll and more of a pistoning in and out of you, giving you what you begged him for only a moment ago. At first, the thrusts are shallow, but after about a minute he can’t help himself anymore. With every jerk of his hips, his cock slams against a spot inside of you that only he has ever reached—although you’d never tell him that, because you’re too proud to admit that he can make you feel better than you ever could yourself.

When you let go of his wrist, he withdraws his hand, licking his thumb before putting it back where it was and putting it to use. He draws small circles into your clit, just like you taught him to do when you first started dating. You buck your hips up and it makes him smile, and you want to smack that look off of his face. You hate that he knows exactly how good he makes you feel.

You tighten around him when you study his concentrated face—how his brows furrow and he licks his lips.

“Feel good?”

“Yes.” Your voice is strained by desire.

“Good.” He mumbles, and starts to put a little more behind every thrust. He pulls almost all the way out before pushing back in, and the slapping noises that your skin makes upon contact with him is obscene. The bed frame squeaks as it rocks, and it hits the wall over and over again, at a moderate-but-still-annoying volume.

Loud knocking on the closed door startles you, but doesn’t phase Bucky.

“What?” He asks, not stopping, or even so much as looking in the direction of the interruption at the door.

Sam’s raised voice is on the other side. “At least put on the music, man. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, okay, fine. Go away.” Bucky replies. Footsteps descend and a door closes. Bucky pauses his movements, clearly annoyed, to lean over and fish his phone out of the pocket of the pants that he let fall to the floor earlier. He thanks God for Bluetooth when it automatically connects to the speaker that lives on his desk, and all he has to do is press play. He tosses the phone onto the mattress, lets it bounce behind your head, and picks up where he left off.

The music is loud enough to drown out the squeaking and the slapping, but definitely not the bed hitting the wall. You can’t bring yourself to care, because the circles against your clit are growing bigger and faster, and your eyes are rolling back into your head.

“Fu-u-uck.” You moan, syllables choppy from the way that you’re being fucked.

“You’re so hot.” He mutters, letting a breathy moan slip out after his words.

Something hits the part of the wall that Steve’s room is behind, and you both can hear shouting. “Shut up!”

Neither of you respond.

A familiar feeling pools in your lower stomach, tightening and threatening to spill. “I’m so close, Buck.”

You tense around him, squeezing his cock and surely bringing him close, too. He pulls out suddenly, but quickly replaces his dick with two of his fingers, curling them against the upper wall of the inside of your pussy. It shoves you violently over the edge, and you cum with a moan that rips through your chest and leaves your throat burning. His fingers continue to move through your orgasm and he watches your legs tremble, kissing your calves that are still rested beside his head.

“You good?”

You only nod.

“We’re being too loud on the bed. Get on the floor.” He orders, and you breathe through your nose, exhaling through your mouth before you stand on wobbly legs. Before you lower yourself to the floor, covered by his pristinely clean, white rug, he clarifies, “Hands and knees.”

The bass of the music booms through your chest, reverberates through your bones, echoes through your head. You feel him kneel behind you, putting one foot onto the floor for balance. You wish you could see him right now—shirt open, sweaty chest heaving, cock standing at attention, ready to fuck you to completion for the second time. He tilts his head down and you can hear him spit onto his dick before shoving it back into you, exercising no restraint.

Your head bows between your shoulders, and you try not to be too loud, because Sam and Steve hardly ever let you hear the end of it when you do, but Bucky’s making it extremely difficult. He’s taking what he wants now, since he’s already made you cum.

His hands hold your hips like they’re handles, yanking your body backwards onto his cock at the same time that he’s ramming into you. His breathing is heavy, and you close your eyes to picture his face right now. A piece of hair over his forehead, fallen from the gelled mass atop his head, jaw tight, abs tensing. That’s what he usually looks like, anyway, when he’s fucking you into oblivion. It’s an image that’s forever burned behind your eyelids.

His hips are moving bruisingly fast, bringing you closer to another orgasm. It’s actually more like you’re being dragged behind a pick-up truck that’s approaching a cliff and is showing no signs of stopping.

It takes only a hard clench to throw off his rhythm and have him cumming inside of you, scrambling to blindly locate your clit with only his fingertips so that you can finish together. He rolls it between his fingers, rubs haphazardly, and gets lucky when you cry out that you’re there again.

“Bucky! Oh, fuck!” Your knees sting from the rug beneath them, and your hands make a fist around the strings between your fingers. “Oh my God.”

He pulls out slowly, kissing down your spine while his warm seed spills out of you, trickling down your leg.

You lay on your back on the floor, much too tired to stand, and watch him pull his briefs back up, on a mission to dampen a face cloth to wipe you down with. He comes back with one, and wipes the cum from your legs and pussy, leaving small kisses in the wake of the warm water that refreshes you.

He gives a final kiss to your lower stomach before he tosses the cloth in the direction of his hamper. He lays beside you on the floor, taking your face in his metal hand and pressing sweet kisses to your cheeks and forehead and chin.

It's silent for a moment, before he decides, "I need to invest in a sturdier bed."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan fluff

[gojology]

Let Me Spoil You. (18+) (NSFW)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I AM FEEDING U GUYS SO GOOD ???? holy mother of a goose i poured my blood sweat and tears into this, bumping to yung gravy as i write this so u alrdy know this is gonna be a banger!!! also i didn’t edit at all and i got so lazy at the end n i didnt wanna scrap this so uhh sorry if its bad 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Dom Gojo x Sub Female Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 3683 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Dub-Con (I think?) Inexperienced Virgin Reader, Somnophilia, Degradation, Dom/Sub, Edging, Begging, Spitting 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | It’s your one month anniversary, and you really don’t like Gojo spoiling you, Gojo gets frustrated, he teaches you a lesson.    A soft orange filter glazed the bathroom, a humid breeze blowing in weakly from the window that was always open, no matter what. The shower head lightly sprinkled on you, mumbling curses to the shower head, you swatted, and lightly tapped it a few times before you realized you had to change the water pressure.     Facepalming, you hadn’t realized that you had changed the water pressure to ungodly levels. It was too late when you had realized, the water shot at your face, practically pushing you back. Water droplets adorned your cheeks, and your hair suddenly decreased in volume.     Gasping for air, you used your arm to wipe your eyes and quickly turned the temperature up to anything other than the freezing bitter cold, you stretched, indulging in the refreshing, hot water.    You had just gone out with Gojo for a luxurious dinner, even though it wasn’t quite your style, Gojo had insisted on taking you out to a fine-dining establishment. Small cuts of steak, with absurdly expensive champagne on the side, and of course, Gojo’s favorite, absurdly expensive desserts.    It had been almost a month since you had began to go out with him, and he had tried treating you like a princess ever since. Anything you set your eyes on, he offered to buy it, whipping out a black leather wallet that was close to snapping. Thick wads of cash sat untouched, and you always politely declined.     He had always argued with you, telling you that it was a given for significant others to spoil their loved ones. You always brushed it off, but in the latest argument between you two, Gojo was persistent, insisting that you were to dress in your finest and so that he could, “finally spoil my babygirl.”     You could still remember how the conversation went.     “No, Satoru.” you scoffed, turning to face him, leaning on the counter. Your arms crossed over your chest, “We can get JUST as good food if we order take out or some shit.”     “Listen, sweetheart,” he immediately rushed over, his hand on your ass, rubbing up and down, his other caressing your neck. “It’s nothing on me financially, I can handle it, I want to spoil you princess.”     You shook your head, looking down. He took his hand off your neck and rubbed his.     “I rarely get to spend time with you, between the meetings and the missions and training Yuuji, so let me do it just this once, is that okay, pumpkin? Besides, what do you lose from this? I made the reservation too, so we don’t have to wait. It’s a win win~”    You glanced up, before looking down again, ruffling your hair. An awkward silence grew between you two.    What did you lose from this? Even though Gojo was absolutely loaded, you still felt terrible spending money for unnecessary shit.    He looked at you, placing his hand on his chin, he looked like he was thinking, which was unusual, because the guy was as dumb as a snail sometimes. He let out a small “hm” stroking his chin as if he was debating with world renowned scholars before finally opening his mouth, “Oooooooooh, I get it now!”     You sighed, so dramatic.    He leaned forward, you always forgot how ridiculously tall he was, and how much he loomed over your figure. “Babe, don’t feel bad.” he tipped your chin upward so he could look you in the eye, even though he was quite literally wearing his blindfold, “this has been our 1 month anniversary, and what’s an anniversary without spending money on unnecessary shit?”    “I mean, I guess..”    Hesitantly agreeing, he shoved you upstairs into his room (and yours as well!) to throw on the best formal looking outfit you could find last minute. Digging through the drawers, you found a skin-tight black sundress that you had paired with a  layered delicate necklace Gojo had gifted you on your second week of dating. Hastily throwing on gold rings and a gold anklet just for the fun of it, you fluffed up your hair. You looked at your black high heels.    Hey, if you were gonna be so lavish looking, why not go all out?    You regretted that train of thought later on, and wondered why you didn’t just pull up in a simple white t-shirt.     Regardless, it was worth it at the end. Gojo looked stunning that night. Swapping out the regular blindfold for a pair of black sunglasses, it accentuated his chiseled features even more. His hair wasn’t what it was usually, it wasn’t spiked up at all. Instead, he wore it down. It looked much softer, and it framed his face perfectly. He wore a buttoned down dress shirt, and you felt your heart swell when other woman watched him walk by, their faces faltering when they realized his arm around your waist.     He even went to the extent of pulling the chairs out for you, and opening the car door, as if you were truly a princess. Admittedly, you found yourself enjoying the fine dining, even with the ridiculously small portions. The atmosphere, and the pampering from the waiters had grown on you.    While thinking about the events of your anniversary, the door creaked opened, Gojo’s head peaked just above the foggy glass doors of the shower.     You slightly slid the door open just a crack, you knew that most couples would immediately open the door and have their arms out, waiting for their significant other to immediately pleasure them in the shower, but you hadn’t done anything like that with Gojo yet.     Instantly met with his incredibly toned body, glowing in the hazy amber light from the window, you gulped. A towel draped over his veiny arms, and an incredibly large t-shirt with panties in the other.     You quickly realized the t-shirt as the one Gojo often wore, you had never worn one of his t-shirts before.    The endless missions had obviously done him well, he looked like he was sculpted from marble, a gift from heaven. Arms strong enough to hold the world, you wondered what it would be like to have him carry you around.     Your face flushed a bright red, you didn’t even know what it was like to be carried by him, the furthest you both went was making out, and even you had found yourself being too bad at it to do it consistently.     Lost in thought, you didn’t even realize what Gojo was saying. “Sugarplum? I got your clothes.” he murmured softly, setting the towel and clothes down.     Your breath hitched, watching his head turn to face the shower. Instantaneously looking down at your face peeking through.    You were never gonna hear the end of this one.    A small smile spread across his face, before disappearing into a large cocky smirk, now that he had realized what you were looking at. “It’s okay, I understand, pumpkin. Not many have the courage to tell me face to face that I’m the best. In terms of strength, and looks, and everything.”     You stuck out your tongue, blowing a raspberry.     “Fuck off, idiot, I’m trying to shower!”     “Ouch! I didn’t say that when you were ogling at my body, didn’t I? That really hurt my feelings, weren’t you ever taught the golden rule?”     His hand wove through his hair, and you couldn’t help realize how soft it looked without all the gel holding the iconic spikes together.    “Treat others how you want to be treated.” he winked.    Your mouth sealed shut, accepting your defeat, you slid the glass door shut loudly.     You heard loud booming laughter go down the hallway, gradually getting quieter and quieter before exhaling a sigh of relief as you continued to shower.     You couldn’t help but think about your boyfriend’s body once more, it seemed like a dream. Was he really yours? He had the body of a super model and he settled with you and not some ridiculously pretty girl?     Anyone would take advantage of such a handsome boyfriend, showing him off for the world to see.    You felt an unfamiliar throb between your legs, you looked down, head tilted to the side while also simultaneously furiously washing your hair.    You hadn’t felt this throbbing too much, it was almost like a yearning, and you were almost sure you knew what it was, but you didn’t quite want to admit it yet.    Shaking your head furiously, you wanted to finish your shower before anything else. Ignoring the obvious. ‧₊˚✩彡.    Rubbing your hair with your towel, you had thrown on the t-shirt and panties, cursing Gojo silently for not giving you a pair of shorts. Rummaging through the drawers in your room, Gojo suddenly appeared in the hallway.    “What are you looking for, love?” he leaned on the doorway, cocking his head to his side with a mischievous grin.    “Why don’t you ask yourself, considering that you were the one who gave me my clothes.” you scoffed, pushing the drawer you were searching for back and moving on to the next. You had forgotten which drawer had your pants, vivid images of Gojo’s body echoing through your mind.    “Your pants are on the left of the drawer.” he strode over to the king-sized bed, the mattress sinking down as he sat. “What are you thinking about?”    You scoffed again, looking at him with a side eye. “I’m not thinking of anything? What are you talking about?” 

   “Whenever you think, you forget literally everything around you.”

   Cursing the Gojo clan for ever birthing such a smart yet stupid child, you twirled around with a pair of shorts now in hand. “I do not!”

   “Yeah? Okay lil girl. Oh no, you’re not wearing those.” 

   You felt a throb yet again when you heard him call you lil girl. He snatched the pair of shorts up, dangling it just above your head. “Can’t I ever have my girlfriend wear something remotely sexy? I love your body. I want to see it all in its glory.” He placed it back into the drawer neatly.

   You froze. He was being incredibly straightforward, which wasn’t unlike Gojo, but you didn’t think he would make such large advancements. His arms snaked around your waist without you even realizing, breathing heavily as he placed your ass on his lap. 

   Readjusting to the new position, you looked up, fear and excitement brewing inside of you, was this going to be your first time having sex? You leaned in for a kiss.

   Just as he was about to give you a taste of his lips once again, a loud ringtone sounded. 

   “Fuck.” he cursed to himself, digging into his pockets and whipping out his phone, he gestured for you to be quiet. You whined a little, you had now realized what you were throbbing for.

   “Hello?” Gojo cocked his head to his side, placing the phone right next to his ear as it dangerously rested on his shoulder. A disgruntled look in his face, one hand squishing your ass. 

   “Mmmmmm, yeah, okay.” he placed the phone down on the covers, looking down to you, eye to eye.

   “That was a call from Ijichi, there’s some crazy shit going on somewhere, I have to take an emergency business trip.” he kissed your forehead gently, “I love you okay?” 

   Disappointed with the outcome, you nodded. He gave you a gentle few pats on your back before standing up, gently rolling you over on the bed, and rummaging through the drawers for his work uniform.  

   “As he casually undressed in front of you, you obviously stared, savoring the last few minutes of his body before he would disappear for the next few days, or maybe even weeks, or a month. 

   He looked back on you, just as he was entering the hallway. 

   “You forgot to say I love you.” 

   Looking up, you cursed to yourself, he didn’t have the usual playful cocky grin, now replaced with a worried one. 

   “I love you too.”

‧₊˚✩彡.

   It had now been a week since your 1 month anniversary, you had been blue balled so badly, it almost hurt. You were laying down on your bed, looking at the curtains flutter as a casual wind blew into the room. The sun was setting, and a beautiful dark blue canvas dotted with stars was sure to appear. 

   You had tried holding off, ignoring your walls desperately wrapping around something that wasn’t there. Constantly looking down, seeing that your panties were obviously soaked. The dreams weren’t helping either, Satoru had been appearing in your dreams and doing things that even he would be weirded out by, and he had seen some shit.

   Your arm snaked down to your panties, hand underneath the fabric. You breathed a sigh of relief as your unexperienced fingers circled your entrance, enjoying the slight tease. You heard the slight suckle of your walls around your fingers, enjoying the full feeling. 

   Yet you knew that this wasn’t the extent of things, you knew that there were much bigger, capable of reaching places you wouldn’t even dream of reaching. But you enjoyed the small amounts of pleasure anyways.

   You pulled your panties down, throwing it into the laundry basket and cursing yourself for making it so wet. Slowly thrusting in and out with the finger, you sighed a breath of relief. 

   “Fuck.” you gasped, as a white fluid pooled out of you onto the sheets. You cursed harder to yourself, realizing now that you had to wash them. 

   “Shit.” you couldn’t quite stop there though, you had even more aching between your legs, and you had to satisfy your cravings, you didn’t even know when Gojo would come home. 

   You gasped more, a second round of white fluids flowed out of you. The yearnings now gone, you yanked a tissue out of the tissue box, wiping your finger on it, too lazy to get up, you would worry about the cum later. Drifting off into a heavy sleep, dreaming once again about the ungodly things you wanted Gojo to do to you.

‧₊˚✩彡.

   “Gojo, s-stop.” you looked up at him as you sat on his lap, his fingers coated with your slick. His other hand played with the hem of your skirt. Not responding, he continued to quietly fingering you. 

   You quickly put a hand over your mouth, letting out a muffled moan, he snickered a little, before pulling out his fingers. 

   You whined a bit, earning a stare from a few people. Looking up at him with puppy eyes, you felt yourself wrapping around air.

   He sadistically smiled. You wondered how his eyes would look right now, unable to look at him because of his blindfold. 

   “Beg for it, slut.” he silently whispered, teasing your entrance. You let out a little whimper again, how were you to be quiet when he was doing all this to you?

   You opened your mouth slightly, about to beg, before being shut down completely as he shoved 3 fingers into you. 

   You let out a loud squeak, the whole restaurant now staring at you, eyeing you even across the room with displeased faces. You looked down, embarrassed. 

   He was now laughing at you, you looked up to him about to silently chew him out. Before opening your mouth, you were transported into a bright room. 

‧₊˚✩彡.

   Your eyes blinked, readjusting to the brightness. You realized that your legs were slightly colder then your upper half, realizing that you were completely naked down there. You blinked furiously, looking around, seeing someone’s incredibly muscular chest, with unmistakable white hair. 

   Rubbing your eyes, making sure that you weren’t seeing things, you mumbled, “Gojo?” 

   You felt something squirm around inside of you, letting out a loud moan as it pulled out. 

   “Hm?” he murmured sleepily, you looked down.

   Putting two and two together, his incredibly long fingers were glistening with a wetness. He shuffled a bit before finally sucking and licking his fingers, looking at you directly in the eye while doing so. 

   “What’s wrong, slut?” he smiled deviously again, resting his chin on your shoulder before thrusting 2 fingers back inside of you again. Curling them inside of you, indulging in the toe curling scream you made. 

   “Gojo! You’re...” he pulled his fingers out before you could finish, adding another finger, he was now up to 3.

   “FUCK, SATORU!”    With a lustrous glint in his eyes, he shoved his thumb and index finger into your mouth.     “That’s daddy to you, and look at your body. It’s practically begging for my cock by now. Oh princess, did I play with you for too long?” he slipped his fingers out of your needy pussy, smiling into your hair.     “Want daddy to fuck you?”    Your mouth suddenly dry, you looked at his neck. Not knowing how to respond, you nodded vigorously, sucking on his fingers.    He tipped your chin to look upwards at his face, staring directly into his aquamarine eyes.     “Use your words, whore. Or you’re not getting shit.” he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.     You coughed and spluttered into your arm, tears forming at the corner of your eyes.     His eyes went softer, pulling you into his chest. “Oh sweetheart, did I go too rough on you?”     You shook your head, before shakily replying, “I-I was just surprised y-you came e-early from the mission a-and...” you took a deep breath in, “I was... unp-prepared.    Before he could reply, you blurted out,    “P-please, daddy, use my tight l-little holes. I’m all yours to u-use.”     He smiled, “What a cute slut. You want me to spoil you, don’t you?”     You nodded, now rubbing your thighs together. Your slick coated your inner thigh and your breathing was getting hot.     “How come when I offered to, you didn’t want to obey me?”     “Y-you can’t compare the two-”    He spat into your open mouth. Smiling a bit when he realized that you had swallowed it, looking at him with even wider puppy eyes.    “No talking back, repeat after me, lil girl. When daddy wants to spoil me, I will let him spoil me.”     “W-when daddy wants to s-spoil me, I...” you took a shaky breath in, “I’ll let him spoil m-me.”     “That’s a good girl. Now turn to look at the wall.” he calmly replied, you obeyed, looking at the wall, anticipating for whatever happened next.     You felt something big touch your entrance. Something unnecessarily big, you whimpered. Realizing it was Gojo’s dick.     He chuckled a bit, smiling into your neck and then giving it a light suck. “It’s okay princess, this is your first isn’t it? I’ll make you into my cumslut afterwards. I’ll go nice and easy.”   Heaving a bit, he thrusted a little inside of you. You held your breath.     Strangely, it didn’t hurt at all. Even with the contrast between his incredibly thick and large cock, to your inexperienced, tight walls.     “Missy, you’re so wet.” huskily muttering into your ear, “almost like you’re milking my cock. So tight.”    He grunted, repositioning myself and letting out a small, “Fuck.” as he did so. You whined as he gradually put more and more of him inside of you.     You tightened around his cock, drooling as you did so. You didn’t realize your mouth was open.     “Babe, I can barely fucking pull out.” Gojo said, while he played with your hair, stroking your cheek.     “W-why not?”     “Nothing other then the fact that, a) you’re too tight around me, and b) you’re clenching incredibly hard for no real reason.” he once again, shoved his thumb and index finger for you to suck on, the other playing with your breast, his thumb rolling over your nipple.     “Just relax, baby. Let daddy do all the work, okay?”     You weakly nodded, as he finished shoving the last of his length inside of you. Whimpering, and yanking your pillow out from its normal position to hug it.     You felt him pull out, and he slammed back inside of you once again.     You swore to God that you saw the light, a wave of pleasure and your body going numb as he did so. Letting out a shrill squeak, you hugged your pillow as hard as you can, your juices flowing down into the bed now, leaving an evident trail of where it once came from.    Gojo grunted, snuggling deeper into your body. There was barely any space between the two of you, but you still didn’t feel close enough.     The room was filled with the sound of sticky skin against stinky skin, panting, and moans. You felt every. single. bit. of him.     Now, he had begun to quicken his pace, slamming into your body more often, sending waves of pleasure inside of you. His hair stuck to his neck, sweat pouring down his body, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.     “Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck, I want to cum inside of you so badly, love.” he panted out of breath.     You whimpered, still unable to speak due to his fingers you were harshly sucking all this time. He laughed in response, before finally pulling out.     In a blink of an eye, he shot ropes of cum on your stomach, panting. You had finally gotten a good view of his cock, big was an understatement. Veins decorated the side of it, and the tip was a rosy pink.     “Lick some cum off of your pretty stomach, princess. I wanna see how pretty you look while doing so.”    Both of you breathing heavily, sweat dampening the sheets, his eyes bore into you. You gulped, even though you had done something so intimate with him, dominant Gojo was nothing to mess with.     You scooped some of his cum up with your finger and sucked on it, looking at him the whole time.     He grunted with approval, giving you a nice headrub.     “Well would you look at that.” he glanced at the wall, “it’s already morning. Wanna take a shower together, lil girl?”    On any other day, you’d make up an excuse, but you figured that you’d get fucked even harder if you told him you didn’t want to.     “Okay, daddy.”     “Good girl.”          

#gojo satoru smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #dom gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou x you

[ediths]

pearls

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: pure smut

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: There’s something about Harry’s pearls that just get you going.

Warning(s): a fascination for harry’s pearls, oral (f receiving), slight degradation, he smacks her thigh one (1) time, unprotected sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool!!! (or make sure he wraps his!!!!), choking, breeding kink, aftercare

A/N: this is literally just smut!!!!!! reader’s discretion is advised!!!! read at your own risk!!!! anyway, i went completely in for this one please don’t come at me for my love of the pearls, okay????? it’s almost worse than the love for the rings!!! actually, who am i kidding?? it’s definitely worse than the love for the rings!!!!! the necklace is just so hot and it rests on his pretty little clavicle so fucking nicely like oh my god someone save me i cannot breathe!!!!! anyway!!!!! without further ado, here’s just a whole lot of filth!!!

also thank u to @glowunderthemoon​ for the visual and the ideas!!! also thank u to @strawberryystyles​, @sweetheartharry​, @soullikestyles​, @lookupandseethestars​, and @mindofharry​ for screaming about this with me <3 thank you guys for the ideas and the hype and for just being the way you are i love u guys or whatever

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Reblog the fics that you like please & thank u!

*

Y/N’s been needy for Harry since he walked through the door. He came into their house in black designer dress pants and an extremely expensive white button up shirt that all but made her drool. She was sitting on the couch as she watched him kick off his shiny black boots and shrug off the jacket that matched his pants. 

All of these things made her want him, but what really set her off was the delicate string of pearls that were perched so perfectly atop his clavicle. He’s been wearing them for weeks and there’s something about them that make her arousal pool in her underwear faster than anything else.

She hasn’t told him this, of course. She doesn’t really think that he’d understand her fascination with a piece of jewelry, so she just went about her search for satisfaction like she normally would.

Harry, however, had different plans. Sure, she hadn’t told him about the infatuation that she had grown to have with his pearls, but he had easily found out. He could tell by the way that her eyes got a little bigger and she gulped every time that he would run his finger across the beads and pull just a bit when he was stressed. He noticed the way that her thighs would clench when he took the necklace into his mouth and how, just once, she let out a gasp when he let it fall from his mouth and there was a thin string of spit connecting his lips to the beads. That’s really when he knew, because she hid her face and tried to push it off even though he could see the way that she was rubbing her thighs together. 

So, when Y/N strolls into their room and comes up to Harry, giving him her signature pouty look, with her bottom lip jutting out slightly and her eyes wide, almost innocent, he gives in easier than she thought he would, but that’s simply because he wants to test out what exactly his pearls do to her.

He grabs the back of her head firmly and pulls her closer to him the second that she whispers to him, telling him that she wants him. He presses his lips to hers hungrily as soon as she’s close enough for him to do so. She immediately kisses him back with just as much fervor, loving the way that his mouth molds with hers just like they were made to be kissing each other. He pushes her back onto the bed as he swipes his tongue over her bottom lip, and she quickly opens up for him, letting him dip his tongue into her mouth to dance with her own. 

As her back hits the bed, he maneuvers one of his thighs to slot between hers and he applies the slightest bit of pressure when he feels the warmth of her heat seep through the layers of fabric that are keeping them from each other.

Harry pulls away from her mouth to catch his breath and smiles at the way she looks so fucked out already. “Look at you, puppy,” he teases. “Already look so gone and I haven’t even touched you yet.” 

She whines and leans up slightly in an attempt to kiss him again, but he wants something different. He leans down and begins peppering kisses along her jaw before traveling down and leaving open mouthed kisses to her neck. He stops briefly on her sweet spot, sucking and nipping at the skin until he knows that there will be a bruise for her to tend to in the morning. 

She tries to control her breathing as she feels his lips dance across her skin, and she almost succeeds until the cool surface of his pearls fall onto her skin. A shiver runs down her spine as the beads trail everywhere that he goes. 

He pauses his ministrations, teasing his fingers under the hem of her shirt as he looks up at her. When she nods her permission, he slips it over her head and haphazardly tosses it somewhere in the room. He looks down at her, tracing the skin that he just uncovered and licking his lips like he’s seeing the best thing in the world. And to him, he is. 

He then resumes his descent down her body, making sure to lick at every inch of skin that he can reach. He stops his trail as he reaches her breasts, which are bare due to the fact that she had foregone a bra today, which Harry personally thinks is one of the best ideas she’s ever had, taking one into his hand to squeeze just as harshly as he knows that gets her going, but doesn’t hurt her. He immediately takes the nipple of one into his mouth and licks circles around the peak as he pinches and rolls the other between his fingers. He’s always been one to pay equal amounts of attention to both, so he repeats his actions on the opposite breast before kissing down her belly. 

She arches her back slightly when he nips at the skin of her hip and the pearls fall directly against the part of her that needs him the most.

Looking up at her, he murmurs, “Can I take these off, doll?” He messes with the band of her sweatpants and panties, and he begins sliding them down her legs the moment that she lets out a breathy “please.”

Once they’re off, he throws them just as he did with her shirt and shimmies down until he’s able to press teasing kisses to her calves. He knows that he’s being slightly mean by not giving into what she wants, but he wants to let the chilly pearls slide across her heated skin to get her even more worked up before he gives into what he knows she’s aching for. So he leaves sloppy open mouthed kisses from her calf up to the soft skin of her thigh and then repeats on the opposite leg. By the time he’s at the top of her second leg, she’s squirming. 

“Daddy, please, wanna feel you.” Y/N begs, lifting her head from the mattress to meet his gaze. “Please.”

And really, how can he say no to his girl begging him to touch her? There’s no way that he possibly can, so he spreads her legs further, wrapping his arms around her thighs to keep them open for him. 

“Yeah, you wanna feel me, puppy? Wanna feel Daddy’s tongue against your pretty little pussy?” he teases as he leans down to lick a long stripe through her folds. She immediately arches her back, whining at the feeling of his tongue against her cunt. He smirks against your heat as you reach down and thread your hands in his hair, tugging when he circles his tongue around her clit before taking it in his mouth and sucking.

Breathy moans of his name fall from her mouth like a prayer and he traces patterns against her sensitive bundle of nerves. He pulls away from her and her hips immediately raise to meet his mouth once again. 

He brings his palm down on her thigh quickly, smacking the skin just hard enough to get her to plant her hips back to the soft surface of the mattress. “You know better, puppy. You take what I give you, nothing more,” he chides, caressing the skin that was tingling lightly from his slap. “Are you already feeling that good? Does my tongue make you feel so good that it’s the only thing you can think about?” He shakes his head. “Such a dumb puppy, yeah?” He chuckles when she whines. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s okay, because you’re my dumb puppy, right?”

She immediately nods. “Yes, Daddy, I’m your dumb puppy.” She knows that he wants to hear her say it exactly as he did, so she does. It’s a bit embarrassing, but when a bright smile bleeds across his face and he buries his face back in her cunt, licking into her until her thighs are shaking around his head. She can feel the heat in her lower stomach start to spread throughout her body. She’s right there and just before she opens her mouth to ask him if she can cum, he pulls away. She holds back her whine, knowing that it’ll just get her in trouble, but she’s not sure how well she fends off the pout from cementing itself to her face.

If she’s bad at hiding it, though, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands from the bed and begins unbuttoning his shirt so he can have even less fabric between the two of them. While he’s busying himself with that, she slinks off the bed to sit on her knees in front of him. He looks down at her, eyes slightly wide as he takes her in. The sight of her eager below him makes him throb in his pants, and there’s almost nothing more that he wants than to use her pretty little throat to get off, but he’d much rather see her suck on something else. Preferably while he fucks into her so that he can see her eyes roll into the back of her head as she tries to keep her mouth closed.

So, when she reaches forward for the zipper of his pants, he grabs her wrists to stop her. “Not this time, puppy.” She pouts at his words and he moves one hand to caress her cheek. “I know how much you love having things in your mouth. Greedy little puppy always has to have something to suck on.” He chuckles darkly when she whines low in her throat. “I’ve seen you starin’ at my pearls lately, baby, why don’t you put those in your mouth instead?”

Her nod is subconscious, her head bobbing before the words have even fully registered in her brain. The only thing she really heard was ‘pearls’ and her mouth immediately watered. 

She watches as he pops the button on his pants before dragging his zipper down. He lets his hands fall to his sides once he’s done. “Finish undressing me, puppy. You wouldn’t want to make me do all the work, would you?” he drawls, smirking down at her.

She reaches up and dips her fingers below the band of his pants and boxers before tugging them down his thighs. His cock springs free of the restraints and smacks against his stomach. The head is leaking precum, almost like it’s weeping to be touched. She yearns to smear her lips across the drippy tip but she knows he’ll be mad if she does, especially since he told her that he didn’t want her mouth around his dick this time. So instead, she leans forward to sponge kisses along his thighs as she pushes the clothing down to his ankles. After a few moments, she backs away to let him kick the pesky fabric off. 

Once he’s completely bare, she lets her gaze meet his again. She takes in the way that he looks so powerful standing above her, like he controls everything in the room. And really, at this point in time, he does.

“Stand up,” he commands. She listens without a second thought, pushing herself to her feet to stand in front of him. He takes a good look at her before placing his hand on the back of her neck and pulling her forward so that he can smear their lips together. He fits her bottom lip between his two as he walks them backwards to the bed. Getting lost in the taste of her on his tongue, he lets them both fall onto the bed again. When she moans into his mouth, he pulls away to allow them to catch their breath. 

He backs away from her, coming to rest on his knees in front of where she’s sprawled out on the bed. She looks up at him with lust filled, wanting eyes as he wraps his hand around the base of his cock and gives himself a few languid strokes. His thumb swipes across his tip to gather his precum and slick it down his shaft. Her eyes train on his tip, the skin flushed a bright red. There’s already more precum leaking from the slit as he continues stroking himself. After a few moments, he bucks into his hand and she whines, spreading her legs for him.

“You want me inside, baby? Wanna feel daddy in your tummy?” he teases, continuing to stroke his cock as his eyes roam over her body. She nods and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Beg for it, then. Show me just how greedy my pretty little puppy can be.”

She opens her mouth before closing it again, she can’t just beg him for that! “If you don’t want to, I can always get myself off,” he warns and her mouth immediately opens again.

“No, no, please,” she whines. “Don’t want you to get yourself off.” She pouts.

“Then do as I said,” he groans, rolling his head back as hips buck into his hands once again, “and beg.”

“Fuck me, please, wanna feel you,” she begs. “Feel so empty without you, wanna feel full. Daddy, please.” 

Harry gives into her begs, coming back over to her. He rests his hands on either side of her head, framing her in. He leans down, connecting their lips. It’s messy, all gnashing teeth and fighting tongues, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. She takes his bottom lip between her teeth and tugs slightly, causing him to groan into her mouth. He lowers himself onto his forearms so that he can take one hand down to his cock. Wrapping his hand around the base, he drags the tip through Y/N’s folds, causing her to let out a shuddering breath. 

The head bumps against her clit, making her arch her back slightly to increase her pleasure. One stern look from him has her pressing back down into the mattress, though. He smirks down at her as she obeys him with nothing more to go off of but a glare.

He leans down slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to her nose. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable at any time, yeah? Just because I’m more on the harsh side tonight doesn’t mean I care about your comfort any less,” he reassures, looking deep into her eyes.

“I will, promise,” she murmurs, reaching up to grab onto his pearls loosely before tugging, causing him to fall close enough to her face so that she can ghost her lips against his. “Now, fuck me, daddy. Wanna feel you for days.”

He groans, pushing his cock into her dripping pussy as he breathes out puffs of air against her mouth. Once he’s buried to the hilt, he chuckles at her, smirking darkly. “You like my pearls so much that you just can’t keep your greedy little hands off of them, yeah?” he taunts before pulling out until only the tip of his cock is still inside of her. He thrusts back in harshly, making her cry out in pleasure.

He sets a steady pace as he moves his face down to her throat, leaving sloppy kisses along her pulse. When he meets her sweet spot, causing her to let out a whimpery moan. He bites down on the skin there, letting his tongue meet the skin afterwards to soothe the skin. His hips stutter for just a moment when she squeezes around him. “Fuck, puppy you’re so tight for me, so fucking tight,” he pants into her neck. “Every single time we do this—fuck—you take me in so fucking snug, so right. God it’s like you were fucking made for me.”

She brings her hands to the side of his neck in an attempt to bring his mouth to hers. She grasps on to the string of pearls that are bouncing against his collar bone with every sharp thrust. He gives in to her whines and places a quick peck to satiate her need before leaning up and grasping her hips, positioning his own in a way that makes him hit even deeper. She cries out as his cock hits that spot inside of her that makes her a whimpery, whiny mess.

He smirks when her head falls back in bliss and her mouth forms an ‘o’. Gripping onto her hips so hard that she’s sure she’ll have grape sized bruises tomorrow. Honestly though, as she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her, she can’t bring herself to care about the marks.

He reaches down to rub circles on her clit, sending jolts of electricity shooting up her spine. She cries out, getting completely lost in the feeling of him fucking into her while toying with her bundle of nerves. 

After a few moments, he moves his free hand to her throat, wrapping his hand around her neck as she meets his eyes. He tightly, enough to restrict her breathing. His fingers squeeze against the sides of her neck, making the blood rush through her. The feeling is amazing, each thrust pairing with his grip on her throat pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“D-daddy,” she rasps, bringing her hands up to wrap around his wrist. “Can—can I cum?” she begs, voice raspy due to his hand being pressed directly against her windpipe. 

“You wanna cum for me puppy?” She nods, desperately whining. “Then do it, soak my cock for me, baby. Show me just how good my cock feels inside your pussy.” 

She lets go, the bubble in her lower stomach popping as the euphoric feeling of her orgasm washes through her body. Every fiber of her being feels like it’s on fire as she squeezes around his cock, reaching up to bring his face closer to hers. He groans into her mouth, letting his mouth sloppily mold with hers as she whines, pulsing around his dick as she rides out her orgasm.

He continues rubbing against her clit as he ruts into her, helping her milk her high for everything it’s worth. Once it becomes too much, she pushes his hand away from her clit and peers up at him with a pout on her face.

“Will you cum inside me, daddy?” she begs, grabbing his shoulders and crossing her ankles behind his back to keep him close. “Please? Wanna feel full.”

“Yeah?” he breathes as she buries her hands in his sweaty curls. “Want daddy to fill you up? Fuck, you wanna feel me here?” he asks as he places his hand on her lower stomach and presses down lightly.

She nods, whining a repeated string of “yes” as he thrusts into her one, two, three more times before burying himself as far as he can and dropping his head to her neck, groaning as he releases inside of her, thick ropes of his cum painting her walls white. She whimpers at the feeling, loving the way that she feels so full of him. 

He sponges kisses to her pulse as they catch their breaths. “I love you so fucking much,” he breathes into her neck. 

“I love you, too,” she reciprocates.

He basks in the feeling of her snug around him for just a second longer before he gently pulls out. Both of them hiss at the loss of contact, but Harry’s quickly turns to a groan as he watches his cum drip from her. 

“You’re so messy, puppy,” he teases before leaving the room to retrieve a washcloth from the bathroom. While he’s gone, she lets herself relax on the bed as the exhaustion washes over her. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet, baby,” he coos as he saunters back in with a warm rag. “Gotta clean you up before we go take a bath.”

He gently runs the cloth over her thighs before gently wiping through her folds. She hisses when he runs over her sensitive clit, and he automatically apologizes before pressing a light kiss to her thigh.

Standing back up, he takes his hand in hers and tugs her from the bed. 

“Come on, baby, I know I fucked you so good that your legs are sore, but I need you to walk to the bathroom with me,” he taunts as she rolls her eyes. “On a serious note, though,” he begins as they’re walking towards the bathroom, “I’m glad you like my pearls so much.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, can’t wait to have you suck on them while I fuck you again,” he states nonchalantly as he leans over to turn on the water. When he looks over his shoulder and smirks, her breath hitches as she thinks about all the ways he’s going to absolutely ravage her later. 

*

#okay please tell me what you think :D #pearls #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #smut

[weareallstoriesintheend]

As Long As You Need (Reader x Adam Sackler)

Summary: Adam and Reader are hookup buddies. Adam gets concerned that you don't want to see him for a few weeks and comes over to check on reader. Reader is struggling with anxiety/depression and Adam comforts them through a panic attack.

Warnings: Depression, anxiety & panic attacks

Note: This was the fic I wrote for the Summer 2021 @adcuficexchange for LondonID!🥰 I hope this fic is something that resonates with people, I know mental health is a vast and personal subject but I hope something hits home. Even if it's just some beautiful care from our favourite gremlin 💕

The light of the day was fading slowly and the grey cover of dusk was slipping its way into the room. You lay in bed, head tucked against the pillows, body exhausted with the expense of the energy anxiety was taking from you. You felt empty and yet full to the brim, your mind weighed so heavy that you could barely move most days. The second you heard the loud thumping knocks on your front door you jolted as if waking up from a bad dream.

“Kid you in there?” Adams voice came, muffled by the thick wood of the doors between you, booming through your silence. You realised in that moment that you hadn’t spoken to him or seen him for a while and as someone who was a pretty regular occurrence in your life it suddenly felt strange to hear his voice after such a long time, you pulled your phone out from under the pillow and unlocked it. Your eyes screwed shut at the blinding light, but peeking through your eyelashes you checked your messages. Your last text to him had been nearly 3 weeks ago, then the page was just filled with him texting you again and again. All of which, in the haze of your mind, you had ignored. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him; you craved his cheeky smile, soft hair and adorable galaxy of freckles that smattered his skin. It was just the thought of having to explain the tornado that was tearing you apart that felt like a crushing pressure you couldn’t bear. Basic daily life was enough, sometimes too much, so anything on top of that you had shut out.

You curled yourself into the sheets a little more, pulling them around your shoulders. Although they were soft cotton the brush of them across your overly sensitive skin felt like sandpaper dragging over a raw exposed nerve. You stayed as still as possible whilst his knocks continued to echo through your apartment.

In a way you wondered if you had any obligation to him at all, you guys just hooked up every now and again after meeting at a mutual friends birthday party a year or so ago. Nothing serious, no dates, just fucking. He scratched an itch for you so you didn’t have to brave the dating world that daunted you. He was fun, he made you laugh but he didn’t pressure you to spend any more time with him than coming over to hold you face down into your mattress allowed.

The knocks turned to bangs of a fist and you pulled your blanket over your head, maybe he’d just go away if he thought you weren’t home. Your body thrummed with the disturbance of your comfortable silence and it made you uneasy. A slight nausea rippled through your throat. “I know you’re home” his voice bellowed, you closed your eyes and didn’t respond. “Open the fucking door kid” he shouted, he didn’t sound angry but you couldn’t quite make out the tone. He’d never used it before around you that’s for sure, he almost sounded worried. Then there was more thumping on the door, “Kid, for fucks sake your sweet old lady neighbour is looking at me like I’m fucking nuts, open the door”

You sighed and slung yourself off the bed onto your feet. The rush of movement made your head spin; your muscles and joints ached with a lack of energy. You tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the main room of your apartment, hoping that he couldn’t hear your deliberately soft padding footsteps. With your eyes trained on the door you didn’t notice the chair sticking out from the table and you bumped it as you passed. You froze dead still waiting to see if he’d heard it.

“I can hear you rustling around in there. Just open the fucking door and talk to me”

“I don’t want you to see me” you replied hesitantly, not raising the volume of your voice too high knowing he could hear you through the door now. The croak of your voice finally speaking was crackly and broken. “Why not?”

“I… I don’t look great” you looked at yourself in the reflection of the painting hanging on the wall. In the glass you could just about see yourself looking back; your hair was greasy and dishevelled, your eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with red and dark circles created a deep shadow underneath them. You suddenly balked at how awful you actually looked, you hadn’t showered in a few days and it really showed. Your face looked kind of gaunt with the limited food and sleep you’d given yourself for the last few weeks, mind always racing with one thought after another. The racing thoughts only leaving space for the basics of working at your laptop for 8 hours a day and activities to numb your mind till a restless bedtime. “Are you kidding?” he scoffed, thumping his fist once against the door, “I’ve seen you sweating, crying and covered in my cum… I don’t think you looking a little messy is going to be bother me” You cringed at how loud he was talking and in your embarrassment you frantically pulled the door open, “Jesus Adam don’t say that so loud my neighbours will hear y-“ you paused mid-sentence when you saw how he was looking at you. He was shocked and trying to hide it but his eyes were wide with sympathy. You instantly went to close the door on him again but he put his overly large foot in the way.

“Nope, no way! You opened it, I’m like a vampire, you’ve got to let me in now” he smiled cheekily. You sighed and let go of the door walking away from him. “Listen I don’t know why you’re here” you said, voice trailing behind you as you made your way to the couch hearing him step inside and close the door behind him, “I don’t really think I’m in any fit state to be fucking anyone” “I’m not here to fuck you” he retorted, for some reason that kind of stung. “Then why are you here?” you said, nestling into the couch cushions as he firmly placed himself standing in front of you. Adam was staring down at you with that intense glare he always seemed to have and you squinted your eyes, hurting due to the light from the windows, to look up at him. “Why am I here? You haven’t talked to me for like… three weeks. What the fuck do you think I’m doing here? I thought I was going to find you rotting in the bathtub or some shit” You rolled your eyes “I’m fine” “Oh right this…” he paused, flailing his arms at the quite frankly disgusting state of your living room, “… this is ‘fine’?” “This is as good as it gets” you muttered under your breath. He scoffed and you looked up at him, you took a second to take him in. He’d clearly run here, the beads of sweat were trailing gently down his temples and had matted the curly little front pieces of his hair. The outfit he was wearing, a dark blue cut off tank top, grey knee length shorts and heavy tan work boots over cream socks, would look kind of uncoordinated on anyone else but something about Adam always just… made sense.

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Nothing” you rolled your eyes again, “You know you can just go right? I don’t even know why you’re bothering”

“What are you talking about kid? I wanted to make sure you were alright. You went all ghost on me and I was worried about you”

“Worried?” now it was your turn to scoff, you could feel the sickening panic rolling around inside your stomach and you needed him to leave.

“Yeah kid… worried” Adams voice suddenly had a tinge of anger behind it and it made the panic swirl harder around inside you.

“Well I don’t need you to worry about me. That’s not your job, your job is to fuck me and leave. And you’re good at that. So you do your job and I’ll do mine”

“Not true” he retorted, face screwed up a little against the harshness of your words.

“You were the one that set those rules Adam” you replied, frustration tainting your words “You don’t need to act like you give a shit”

“Hey when I commit, I really commit” “Commit to what?” you shouted, losing a little of your patience as your ears started to ring and the blood pumped through your body like a steady beat of music. “Commit to you!” he yelled back “We may not be dating or whatever but when I want someone in my life I work for that. Clearly you don’t…we are supposed to be fucking friends after all!”

He had every right to be mad, you had barely treated him like a human being lately and the wash of guilt made your heart start to jump in its rhythm. You could feel the brush of heat up the back of your neck and your pulse thudding in your ears. You shook your head wishing away what you knew was happening; the panic of the overwhelming sense of everything was rising up from your toes. He couldn’t see you like this, it was too embarrassing.

Although your breath was basically coming out like gasps you looked up at him and firmly said “Please leave”

He shook his head “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re avoiding me. Did I do something?” You stood up from your seat on the couch but didn’t get very far, your body felt over stimulated and you couldn’t get your mind clear enough to decide where to go to escape him. So you started pacing back and forth, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides.

“Adam please just go” this time your voice betrayed you even further, the tell-tale break in your speech giving away the tears that had begun to brim in your eyes. You pushed the base of your palms harshly into your eye sockets, rubbing away the tears. “Hey hey hey” he said softly, reaching out for your wrists and you flinched back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Please just leave!” you shouted, panicked breath coming out of you in heavy pants. “I can’t breathe” you whispered to yourself turning away from him. Your tears, now virtually unstoppable, cascaded down your cheeks as the panic truly set in. You swayed slightly as you began to feel light-headed.

“Tell me what you need” you heard him say, but his voice felt like it was miles away from you even as he stood mere steps away with his hands outstretched slightly in your direction.

This was it, you were officially going crazy. You couldn’t even handle a simple conversation or own up to your shitty actions. You stole a glance at Adam, his eyebrows were pulled down with concern watching you and a wave of nausea rolled up into the back of your throat. He was going to think you were insane after this, this was the last time you were ever going to see him and this was how you were acting. You felt your cheeks heat up, burning with panic and embarrassment. One of the only things that kept you afloat, the only thing had made you happy as of late, was going to walk out. You could imagine him telling his friends about the crazy chick he used to fuck on the side, “She just totally flipped out on me, honestly man fucking nuts” you could practically hear his voice already, full of mocking vitriol towards you.

Then you really started to hyperventilate, chest aching with the weight of your gasps, but something in the back of your mind gave you respite… that wasn’t Adam. That wouldn’t be how he would act. He was kind. You glanced up at him as your hands began to shake violently.

“I-I’m sorry” you stuttered out, you felt your body collapse underneath you as the room began to spin around you. He dove forward to catch you as your body buckled down to the hard wooden floor.

“Come here” his voice was gentle and barely audible to you but he held you tight, this time you didn’t flinch and he quickly gathered you into his arms in the fear you would move away from him again. “It’s just a panic attack, you’re going to be okay. I’m right here, it’ll be over soon” As he pulled you into his chest, seating himself on the floor with you, he stretched his long legs out around you so his whole body was caging you against him. Your breath instantly started to slow down as the warmth and closeness of him soothed you. He didn’t speak too much, he just calmed your mind with hushed whispers of “Shhh” and “You’re going to be okay”.

You clung yourself to him, vibrating with the force of the trembles that were wracking your body. Your teeth chattered in your head causing you to screw your eyes closed in pain. Your fingers wound tight in his shirt as your breathing finally began to even out. Your body released some of the tension that was winding your muscles tight and you leant a little more into his chest.

“H-how did you know?” you stammered, voice barely above a whisper as you regained your breath.

He shrugged “My mom used to get them… and my sister for a while. I’m used to it.” he smiled softly, lips merely twitching up at the edges as he gauged your reaction. He stroked his large hand through your tangled hair, massaging his fingers over your scalp as your body relaxed and you sighed. “Better?” he asked, placing a careful kiss to the top of your head. You nodded, the scent of his cologne and sweat drifted over you as you kept yourself gripped against him, not quite ready to be moved from his warmth.

“You didn’t have to do this” you croaked, looking up at him now. He shook his head and rolled his eyes jokingly, a smirk coming over his lips as he does it.

“You know we don’t just have to fuck right? We can be more than that.” he chuckled, holding your face gently with one hand, “We can also talk, we are friends right?”

You nodded again, looking up at him with wide glassy eyes. He kissed the tip of your nose and you scrunched it.

“Listen maybe we’re just friends for a little while. We can… get lunch or walk through the park when the weather gets better. Whatever you want” he shrugged, you smiled at the level of effort he was so clearly trying to give. Adam hated stuff like that, lunches out and walks in the park; he often said how trivial it all seemed to him. He liked to be at home in his own little world. So the fact he was offering to make you feel better was more than enough to bring a smile to your face. You nodded and giggled when he pumped the air with his fist in celebration.

“And you know, if you need someone to come with you to therapy or whatever I can do that too” he mumbled clearly unsure how you would respond, “You still go to therapy right? I know you mentioned it a while ago and I figured-“ he began to ramble nervously. You pressed your hand into his chest and nodded.

You pushed yourself up a little and placed a kiss to his cheek, “That would help, thank you”

He shuffled a little and rose to get to his feet before extending a hand out to you. You clasped your hand across his, so much smaller in his grasp, and used his body weight to pull yourself up on unsteady legs. He wrapped his arms around you a little bit, his body hunched over yours protectively.

“But first, you need food… and a shower” he paused for a moment, making small grunt-like thinking noises as he looked you over. Then all at once he dipped and gathered you up in his arms, you squealed loudly and wrapped your arms around his neck “What are you doing?” you protested through unsure giggles.

He didn’t say anything but started walking towards your bathroom. He kicked the door open with the toe of his boot and swung his arms so that your head just missed the door frame. He propped you, sitting upright, on the edge of your bathtub before reaching up and turning on your shower. He gestured for you to stand as the water began heating up behind you. Soft clouds of steam quickly started to rise up around the room and he nodded with satisfaction. He tentatively tugged at the base of your oversized-hoodie and you raised your arms above your head. He slipped your hoodie off in one swift motion and dropped it to the floor beside you both. You self-consciously crossed your arms over your now bare chest and he smiled down at you. He placed a kiss to your forehead before kneeling down to wriggle your panties off your hips and down your legs. You shuffled shyly, despite the fact he’d seen you naked so very many times, and stepped out of them as he reached your ankles. He tossed them on top of your hoodie, placing a tender kiss to your stomach as he knelt in front of you, before standing back up to his full height “I’ll get you fresh stuff and wash those” he noted, almost to himself as he spun you by your shoulders so you had your back to him. “You get in there” he pointed to the steady stream of hot water creating billows of steam in the small bathroom, “And I’m going to make you some soup, you still have cans of that chicken one you like?” You nodded once and he placed a firm kiss to your shoulder. With his hands on your waist he placed a final kiss to the top of your head before his touch left you completely. You smiled at his constant need to show you physical care, it was like he understood how even simple affection could heal even the worst of the pain your brain could throw at you. You turned to look over your shoulder as he left the room; like he sensed your hesitation he stopped and turned to look at you with a sweet smile…

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’ll stay with you as long as you need me too”

#adam sackler x reader #adam sackler #tw:mental health #adam sackler x you #adcu #adcu fic #adcu summer fic exchange #adcu fic exchange

[avintagekiss24]

All Alone | Ransom Drysdale{

PAIRING; Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 3,172

WARNINGS; NON-CON, RAPE FANTASY, ROLE PLAY, BREAKING & ENTERING, SMUT, ROUGH SEX, FORCED ORAL SEX (MALE RECEIVING), FORCED VAGINAL SEX, FORCED ANAL FINGERING, SLIGHT DADDY KINK, PRAISE KINK, DOM/SUB UNDERTONES, DIRTY TALK/NAME CALLING

REQUEST; Can u write dark Ransom fics.. or maybe role-play where Ransom pretends to be a burglar and breaks into your house

NOTE; This is an anon request I received for some dark!Ransom and I couldn’t pick a better time to post since Paper hit 1,000+ notes last Monday, (thanks again guys). I am also aware that I promised this last week, BUT, better late than never, right?

!! PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS !!

If you’re going to ignore the warnings that I’ve literally capitalized and headlined above, then don’t come in my inbox after it’s all said and done with any crap. I’ve done my part, so PLEASE do yours. You control what you consume.

You hum along with the radio as you dry the plate in your hand. You pull open the cupboard door and have to push up onto your tiptoes to sit the plate on top of the stack. You plop back down on your heels and move on to the next dirty dish as your mind begins to wander aimlessly. 

The digital clock flips to 9:22pm just as you dunk the last glass cup into the warm water. You wash it gently between your hands, dunking it again to rid it of the soap suds. You lift it to your eye line, squinting slightly as you inspect it. His standards are impossibly high, but you’ve always been up to meet his challenge. Every plate, every utensil, every cup will be museum ready, just how he likes it.

You pick at the edge of the cup with your fingernail, not even noticing the shift in the house. The sliding glass doors in the living room push along the track as you dunk the glass again, giving it another once over. The radio and your humming drown out the sound of soft footsteps against the carpet and then the hardwood floor.

A masked man stands behind you, watching you silently as you stand at the sink, dressed in nothing but one of your husband’s dressy, button down shirts. He flexes his fingers as you lift the glass up to inspect it again, his eyes scanning down your bare legs. 

You gasp suddenly when two arms wrap around you suddenly, squeezing you tight. A leather gloved hand covers your mouth, stifling your scream as you drop the cup to the floor, the sound of it shattering into pieces filling your ears. 

His free hand wrangles both of yours and yanks them behind your back, holding your wrists tightly. Your eyes are wide, darting around the kitchen as you struggle against the much taller man behind you. You continue to scream into the palm of his hand as he starts to drag you through the kitchen. You kick your feet against the hardwood floor as you try but fail to push away from him. 

You manage to pull one of your hands free and reach for one of the chairs at the kitchen table, pulling it with you as you’re pulled towards the stairs. The sound of the legs of the chair scuffing against the floor adds to your dampened screams before it crashes to the floor with a loud thud. 

He gets you to the stairs and wraps his arm around your waist to lift you effortlessly from your feet. He turns and starts backing his way up the staircase as you kick and fight wildly against him. You shake your head back and forth, shifting the hand that covers your mouth slightly. You bite down onto his fingers as soon as you get the chance, drawing a loud, gruff scream from him. 

The bite makes him loosen his grip around you just enough for you to slip out from his grasp. You turn quickly and push him back into the wall with a thud before taking off up the stairs. His fingers grasp at you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back into him. He lifts you again but you elbow him into the stomach, dropping him immediately. 

He falls against the wall, pulling you down with him. You scratch and claw at the steps, grasping onto one to pull yourself up. You scramble over top of him, feeling his hands reaching and grasping for you as you try to get away. Your legs slip through his grasp as you stumble up the wooden stairs.

You reach the top step and are about to sprint toward your bedroom when your ankle is grabbed, tripping you and sending you crashing to the ground. He pulls you down the stairs to him, your back and butt thumping against them. 

He presses his fingers into your flesh roughly, pulling your body into his once more he stands. You feel his hot, heavy breath against your cheek as he presses his face into the side of yours, “You’re gonna pay for that, bitch.”

He moves quickly, pulling you up the stairs and through the hallway. He pushes you violently through the slightly open bedroom door and you fall through it, stumbling and falling again to the floor. He slams the door behind him as you scramble to your feet and turn to face him. Your breath is heavy and fast, your lungs burning. Your body shakes with fear and adrenaline as tears slip down your cheeks.

The masked man stares back at you from a few feet away, his head cocked to the side, his eyes menacing and sharp. His fists are balled at his sides as he blinks slowly, just daring you to make a move. 

Your chin quivers as you start to whimper. You blink furiously as your eyes cloud over with tears, “Please,” you whisper, your voice shaky. 

His lips quirk in a soft smile. 

He lunges at you, his agility taking you by surprise. You don’t even have enough time to react before he’s got you in his grasp again. You scream as you slap your hands against his chest and arms, pushing and fighting against him with all the strength you have. 

He struggles with you for only a moment before he pushes you back onto the mattress and climbs on top of you. He grabs your face in his hand, squeezing your cheeks to pucker your lips as he straddles you. You continue to slap at his face and chest, but it doesn’t faze him in the slightest. He just smiles down at you as you struggle underneath him. 

He leans down and smacks his lips to yours, quick and loud, before pulling away. He slaps you across the face before grabbing your cheeks with his large hand again, “Let’s have some fun, hmm?”

He reaches over you, his heavy body pushing into yours as he pulls open the drawer to the nightstand and rummages around until he pulls out a silk tie. He pulls you up and yanks your arms behind your back before tying your wrists together tightly. He pushes you back down before grabbing another tie to bound your ankles. 

You squirm underneath him, digging your feet into the sheets as you try and buck your hips to get him off of you. You scream as loud as you can, your voice starting to strain and tighten the longer you go. It doesn’t even bother him. There isn’t a neighbor for miles, your house shrouded by mature trees. You’re all alone. He knows it, and you know it. 

He rips open the expensive button down shirt that covers your torso, sending buttons flying to the mattress and floor. You sob as he grabs your naked breasts in his hands, fondling them boorishly - pushing them together before squeezing your flesh harshly. He pinches one of your thick nipples until you’re squealing from pain. He slaps each of your breasts, sending more sharp pains through you as you wail. 

He moves up your body and sits up on his knees as he starts unzipping his pants. He pulls himself free and lets his dick fall onto your face. He grabs a handful of your hair and pulls hard, craning your head slightly to push your chin toward the ceiling. 

“You bite me, and you’ll regret every moment afterwards, you hear me?” your lips shiver as you stare up at him, “Do you hear me?” He repeats louder and more forceful when you don’t answer. 

“Yes.” You push out quickly.

“Yes what?”

You take a quick breath, “Yes sir.” You whisper. 

Without warning, his dick is stuffed into your mouth. You moan and grunt as he fills you, almost choking as you try to breath through the intrusion. You go limp, completely giving in to him as fear courses through your veins. You slam your eyes closed as tears continue to leak from your eyes, making your mascara run down your face. 

He moans loudly as you wrap your lips around him. He pushes his hips back and forth, fucking your mouth roughly as he grows hard and stiff. You gag as the tip of his dick tickles the back of your throat, but he doesn’t relent; in fact, it makes him fuck your face harder. 

He keeps a tight grip on your hair, pulling harder and harder as the minutes pass, your scalp prickling with pain. The sweet tinge of his spunk stains your mouth and throat as quick, warm spurts leak from him slip. You gag again and feel him shiver - he’s loving this. He slaps you across your face again and a muffled cry pushes from your chest. 

You feel him shudder again, feel his hips falter as he slows down, “Fuck baby,” He groans as he pulls out of your mouth, resting his wet, slippery cock on your face again, “That pretty little mouth almost made me cum.”

He grabs your face again, shaking it lightly back and forth as he smiles down at you, “You’re a mess, look at you.” He mocks, tracing his finger down your tear and mascara stained face before he smears his fingers over your wet, sloppy mouth,  “That’s a good girl. Real good girl.”

He rolls off of you and rummages through the nightstand again. He moves to the end of the mattress and grabs your ankle to pull you towards him. He shoves his thumb into your mouth and pries it open before stuffing it with a sock.

You continue to scream and cry, squirming all the while as he flips you over onto your stomach and props you up on your hands and knees. You feel his hot breath on your naked cunt seconds later. His tongue darts out and slips through your folds as you jump from the unexpected sensation.

You lunge forward as he inserts his fingers, curling his fingers to scratch at your g-spot. You hear him moan as he slips his other hand along your clit and through your folds as his other fingers start to push in and out of your heat. He rubs your flesh, kneading your clit and pulling at your folds as he pounds his fingers into your pussy. 

You let your head fall to the mattress as a dull ache begins to build in the pit of your stomach. Your cunt begins the throb as he strokes your spot, igniting a fire within you. You sob openly as your body starts to defy your mind - reacting to him, wetting for him, aching for a release. 

You quiver around him, your wet muscles tightening against his digits, making him chuckle again. 

“Dirty little slut.” He mumbles through a smile, “You’re just begging for it, aren’t you, whore?” 

He withdraws from you, only to replace his fingers seconds later with his cock. You lunge forward again, gritting your teeth as your body stretches to accommodate him. His thrusts are hard and unforgiving as he grips your hips in his hands. His nails scratch against your skin as he pushes into you, pulling your hips back to meet his. 

You grunt sharply when his palm slams against your ass, the sound of the slap bouncing off of the walls around you. You slam your eyes shut and bury your face into the sheets as you sob into the mattress. 

He slaps your ass again before squeezing your flesh in his hands, spreading your cheeks apart to watch himself push in and out of your sex. He pulls out of you and pushes his cock between your cheeks slowly, teasing your tight hole with his tip. He slips out from between your ass and returns to your cunt, pushing his cock through your folds and along your slit until he pushes at your opening again. 

“You like that, baby?” He grunts as he slams back into you, hearing you grunt with pain. He skips his fingers along your stomach and up to your breasts, gripping and squeezing them again with his long fingers. He pinches your nipple roughly again, drawing another squeal from you, “You don’t learn so well, do you whore?”

“Yes,” You squelch through the sock in your mouth. You nod furiously to not anger him further, “I like it.”

“Goddamn right you do.”

You start to lunge forward again, each thrust pushing you up the bed as he fucks you with long, hard strokes. He spreads your ass apart and circles your hole with his greedy fingers, before pushing his thumb into you. You squeak from the sudden intrusion, and start to pull on the restraint around your wrists.

Your arms are shaky and sore from being bound so tightly behind you as they bounce against the small of your back with each of his thrusts. He slaps your ass again and the sting radiates through your body as your flesh starts to warm with pain. Your head pounds, both from crying and the force he used when pulling your hair. You could puke from the adrenaline and fear, but you’re growing close.

Your pussy tightens as a shudder rumbles through you. He starts to rub your clit again as he fucks you, his right thumb pushing ever so lightly in and out of your asshole all the while. Your head starts to whirl, fogging over with lust and pain and terror as you feel his dick in your guts. 

You shiver and let out the smallest moan as your heart leaps into your throat. Quick flashes of your orgasm start ringing through you as he hits your spot over and over again and the fullness of your cunt and ass starts to consume you. Your back caves and your breasts and sensitive nipples rub along the soft sheets beneath you, adding yet another layer of arousal to your impending release. 

He grunts deeply from behind you as he feels your body starting to close around him, “Shit, baby,” he slurs, completely intoxicated with your hot, wet cunt, “I feel you shaking, baby. Don’t fight it. Just come all over this cock like the good little whore you are.”

You let out another shaky moan as the waves of your orgasm start to crash against you. You tense as your body gives in to it natural impulses and releases instinctively. You start moaning impulsively -quiet at first but growing into loud, long, stifled groans as you cum. Your toes curl and you ball your hands, digging your nails into your palms as your orgasm infects every inch of your body and mind. 

You feel him fall against you, resting his weight against your ass as his own moans start to mingle with yours. Hot ribbons of his spunk spew from him - spurt after spurt, filling your cunt before slipping out and down your folds. He slams into you, making sure you take every inch of him as he forces his hips against yours. 

You breathe hard as it all comes to an end. You keep your eyes closed as you let out shaky hums with each breath. He pulls out of you unceremoniously and slaps your behind one last time as he moves around behind you.

You jump when you feel his fingers skip along your spine. He grabs your hair again and yanks your head back, causing you to grunt in pain, “Look at me.”

You shake your head as the tears start to flow again.

“Look at me.” He says again, that low, menacing tone piercing you right to your heart. 

“Please,” you beg, “Just go. Please, I won’t… I won’t tell anyone. Please.” You struggle to get the words out as sobs have wracked your body again and you try not to choke on the cotton in your mouth.

He grabs your chin and forces your head to the left. You feel his breath on your face, “Look. At. Me.”

You whimper as you slowly open your eyes to reveal his clean shaven face. You gasp lightly as your eyes wander his boyish, handsome face. His hair is messy, his lips pressed in a hard line as he eyes you. He’s taunting you, wanting you to know every detail of his face - just daring you to say one word about tonight.

“You be a good girl and don’t move until I’m gone, understand?”

You nod, “Yes Sir.”

He kisses your lips again with a smack, “Good girl.”

Without another word, he’s gone. The door clicks shut behind him, his heavy footsteps down the hallway and stairs grow distant until you can’t hear him anymore. You’re a good girl, so you don’t move - just like he said. You sniffle as you rub your fingers with your right hand. 

You focus on your breathing as the clock in your bedroom clicks softly. Your eyes are puffy and sting with pain. Your cunt is sloppy and sore as his cum slides down the backside of your thigh. Your mind races as shock starts to set in, not allowing you to feel the aches and throbs.

You hear footsteps again, this time fast and hurried. The air shifts in the room as the door opens and within seconds you feel soft hands slip up your spine. 

“You okay, babe?” He asks as he pulls at the tie around your wrists. 

You nod and sniffle again as he rubs your hands and wrists once they are untied, calming your skin. He removes the tie around your ankles before he pulls you into his lap. He pulls the sock from your mouth and tosses it to the floor before he cups your face in his hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks softly as his now soft blue eyes search yours, “Answer me.”

“I’m okay,” you answer quickly and softly as you nuzzle into his chest.

“I wasn’t too rough?”

“Ransom, it was perfect.  You were perfect.”

He smiles at you, “You’re such a good girl. You know that? You’re daddy’s best girl.”

You turn in his lap and throw your legs around his waist as you hug him, “I love you.” You whisper in his ear.

“I love you too baby girl.”

His hands are warm and gentle as he rubs slow circles into your back, “You owe me a new shirt, girl.”

You laugh gently as you rest your head against his chest, “Then you owe me a new set of glassware. You made me drop one.”

He places a kiss on your forehead, “Deal. Ready for your bath?”

You don’t have the energy to speak. You just nod and he lifts you in his arms to carry you into the bathroom. You’re going to be bruised to all hell tomorrow, your muscles and limbs stiff as a board, but all of the undivided  attention you’re going to receive from Ransom is totally worth it. 

It’s one of the reasons you love date night.

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[forasecondtherewedwon]

In Over His Headboard

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E Word Count: 7560

This is a submission for the first day of Thotumn, organized by @spideysmjs!!! Today’s prompt: Dirty Talk.

Summary: MJ learns that Ned's best friend went through a lot of backpacks as a teenager. And a lot of headboards as an adult.

MJ is very observant.

But that’s old news.

The other O-word she lives her life by is ‘organized’. In kindergarten, she rearranged everyone’s cubby during naptime (without permission) to suit her precepts. As an adult, she keeps her books sorted by topic and, within that, by size. The handles of her measuring cups are perfectly aligned. The apartment that houses both the books and the measuring cups is tidy, full of furniture with secret built-in storage spaces, and fewer than five miles from the house in which she grew up. MJ has organized and reorganized her own space so many times that, even though her few good friends think it’s crazy, it explains why one of her passions is helping people move.

Packing boxes is a delight. Laying down rugs so that their straight edges are perfectly parallel to the walls thrills her. Helping someone determine exactly the correct lineup of toiletries in the cabinet under their bathroom sink is a religious experience. She doesn’t express her joy in smiles or shrieks of excitement, but in her diligence. She’ll be tucked quietly in the closet, ordering jeans by shade of blue, while the rest of the volunteer movers crack open a beer in the kitchen, calling it time for a well-earned break.

Lately, everyone in MJ’s life has gotten disappointingly settled: her brother and his wife upsizing in suburbia for the baby on the way, her parents (who are finally coming down hard on not letting her shift their knickknacks around anymore), and Betty. Betty’s engaged—so engaged—and simply made space for her fiancé to move in with her, so MJ didn’t get to assemble a single cardboard box. She still feels slightly betrayed.

When Betty calls and starts in about schedules and plans and photographer, MJ assumes they’re about to go over more wedding details. But no, her friend informs her, the schedule involves the timed renting of a moving truck and the access date for a storage unit, the plans are who’s lending a hand and with what, and the photographer is Ned’s friend and future best man, some guy named Peter. MJ forgets the name (and asks Betty for it again later—day-of, as they’re driving to the guy’s apartment building). It’s a dull speck on the metaphorical diamond Betty has just held up to the light for her to inspect—whatshisname needs people to help him move.

Before the pleasure of putting someone’s possessions in just the right spot can commence, there’s the grunt work. MJ understands and accepts this as a necessary evil. On the day of Ned’s friend’s move-in, she dresses in overalls—multiple pockets for micro-organization on the fly—with a cropped t-shirt underneath because there will, inevitably, be stairs and it’s July. She’s trying not to begin sweating too far in advance, limiting her anticipation to a foot jumping on the immaculate rubber foot mat of the passenger seat of Betty’s car and a series of probing questions.

“Doesn’t this guy have any friends?”

“He has friends,” Betty assures her, being a responsible driver and keeping her eyes on the road, “just not a lot of super close friends.”

“And the close friends he does have weren’t available?”

“Umm…” She concentrates on watching the pedestrian countdown light as they cross an intersection. “I think a bunch of them went with him to the storage unit to load up the truck. I guess they don’t have the whole day off.”

“Oh, unlike me, who has nothing better to do.”

“Don’t get snippy. And don’t pretend you wouldn’t have begged to help if you’d heard me mention what I was doing today.”

MJ plays with the seatbelt strapped across her chest, feeling defensive. It’s her go-to reaction whenever Betty reveals how clearly she sees her.

“I was just trying to figure out why I was asked.”

“Ned’s his friend, I’m Ned’s fiancée, and you’re my friend.”

“The six degrees of Michelle Jones,” she mumbles.

“What?”

“Nothing. He lives in Queens?”

“Yeah, Peter’s local. He and Ned went to school together. Crazy, huh?”

“Crazy that you can travel the world and end up with a fiancé and a circle of friends from your hometown,” MJ agrees. Today, Betty’s in jean shorts and a beachy shirt that ties in a knot at the end of its row of iridescent buttons, but MJ mostly sees her on the news, looking as prim and expensive as a collectible doll. She’s a foreign correspondent for CNN, though she’s reining in the foreign part now that she’s living with Ned and about to get married.

“Crazy,” Betty repeats distractedly, making a perfect, tight turn into the belowground carpark next to the building bearing the address MJ wrote down two weeks ago. This is where the magic will happen.

The pile out and her friend beeps her fob to lock the car. She wants to take the elevator that’ll bring them up to the lobby, but MJ insists on trekking back up the ramp they drove down. It stretches her legs, a good warm up. As they emerge from the darkness of the lot and sun slices across their faces, she feels like she’s walking into Disney World. They stand on the sidewalk and right as she’s about to ask Betty when they guys are supposed to make an appearance, a U-Haul pulls up to the curb.

She sees the driver’s side door open and slam shut without seeing the driver, but Ned comes bounding down from the passenger’s side to hold his fiancée’s hands and give her a quick kiss on the forehead (they’re so engaged), then three more guys fold themselves out of the tight back of the cab and hustle around to the rear of the truck. The couple’s display of affection distracted MJ; she can only assume it’s the driver out of sight in the back, passing belongings down to his helpers, who swiftly stack them on the sidewalk near the front doors of the apartment building. There’s an array of boxes, then staggering steps as the guys navigate couches and mattresses out of the truck, racing against the inflexibility of the No Parking and No Idling signs on this street. If a bylaw stooge comes along, they’re screwed. New York’s street signs exist for the city to make money, not for the ease of citizens needing to unload their furniture.

The guy’s—Peter’s—friends are surprisingly quick, so MJ lets the speech she was mentally writing to argue in favour of his right to park the truck in front of the building he’s moving into dissolve in her head. Peter hops down from the back of the truck. From where she and Betty are standing, she can only see his legs and hear the clang of the rear door closing. The trio of extra helpers clamber back into the U-Haul with the intent and discipline of clowns into a clown car and wheel off to return the truck. MJ finally sees the man she’s come to help as he brushes his hands together and steps quickly onto the curb to avoid another car angling into the carpark. He shakes hair off his forehead and squints towards them, sun in his eyes, already smiling.

“Um, hello,” MJ hisses at Betty, quickly turning to her. “Were you going to mention that your fiancé is best friends with Spider-Man? That’s Peter fucking Parker.”

“And I’m Betty fucking Brant,” she counters breezily. She’s looking past MJ, waving at Peter. “I’m on the news more than he is and you don’t freak out when you see me.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“Hey!”

MJ spins to look into the eyes of a municipal—no, a national—no, an international hero. She doesn’t say anything fast enough, so he moves past her to hug Betty before coming back to her with eyebrows raised in what looks like a mixture of inquiry, politeness, and gratitude.

“Michelle?”

“But my friends call me—”

“MJ,” he finishes for her, and normally that would be irritating, but Peter Parker is endearingly boyish close-up. He’s shorter than she is. He’s freckled. He does look like somebody she could’ve gone to school with and had a low-key crush on for years and years. The fame can’t touch that, which is why, she figures, his hero-next-door schtick works so well for him. He’s local, like Betty said. Every bit of him sells that and it’s obvious that he’s not trying.

“And yours call you Spider-Man?”

Might as well get that out in the open—that she recognizes him. He laughs easily and glances down.

“Nah, pretty much just ‘Peter’. ‘Petey’ if they either really want to make me suffer or they really like me.”

He gives her a look and it’s brief, but there’s a lot to it. The propositioning tilt of the head, the wolfish curl of the smile, the assessing cut of his eyes to catch her from the corner of his vision. MJ gets a strong sense that ‘really like me’ is a euphemism for ‘enjoy me sexually.’

“We’ll see how I feel once we’ve moved all your shit upstairs, I guess,” she responds flatly.

“That sounds fair.” His voice is bright now, no lurking depravity. “I hope I don’t have enough boxes to make you hate me.”

“Please. Boxes are nothing. I’d be more worried about that dresser turning me against you. What is that thing made of?”

“Solid oak,” he brags, then grimaces. “It sucked just lifting it onto the truck.”

“Can’t you just…” MJ mimes the motion Spider-Man does when he shoots that gunk at people and buildings.

“Lift the furniture up to my building with web fluid?” Peter crosses his arms and looks like he’s really calculating it in his head. “Wouldn’t be graceful. I’d probably smash some windows if I tried to do it from outside, and doing it from inside wouldn’t be that much easier than just carrying it up the stairs. Also, that’d attract a lot of attention and everything I do doesn’t need to make the news, you know?”

“Oh yeah,” she agrees dryly. “I hate it when I’m just grocery shopping and there’s a whole camera crew right in my face.”

He laughs at her sarcasm. Appealing.

“Right?”

And then they have to scurry to catch up because Ned and Betty have already started moving everything into the lobby.

After it’s all inside and not available to be swiped by anyone walking or driving down the street, they decide to take turns carrying stuff up to the fourth floor. (Fourth? MJ could swear she was told second.) One person stays with the remainder of Peter’s stuff while the other three lug boxes and chairs and, eventually, the dreaded oak dresser. She’s too focused on maintaining a brisk pace to really check out his apartment—beyond noting the large windows and protruding edge of the kitchen countertop (that catches her in the stomach while she’s squeezing around a box Ned left too close to the front door). It wouldn’t matter. Layout and organization haven’t been much on her mind since Peter Parker stepped out from behind that truck.

This process isn’t supposed to be a spectacle, but people notice Peter, and Peter, ever the neighbourhood Spider-Man, notices people.

A man exiting through the lobby nods towards Peter’s desk and starts a conversation about materials and quality. MJ almost trips up the stairs with a box in her arms as she hears him say, “Yeah, I’ve got more wood than I know what to do with.” Betty, on her way down, catches her eye and gives her a funny look.

“You’re sweating.”

“It’s hot,” she fires back.

Ned’s above, guiding one end of the couch, and Peter and MJ are heaving the other (mostly Peter) when a different dude narrowly gets past them on a landing, only to turn around and remark on the wonder of them being able to maneuver it. “It’s long,” Peter agrees, “but I’ve fit this thing into some pretty tight places.” Right after, he asks MJ if she needs a break. She’s fine. She only almost dropped her corner of the couch because her hand cramped.

As she’s taking a final box through the door of his apartment, she overhears, “I’ll let him choose the position. What do I know? I’m happy to put it anywhere. The only thing I can be trusted to be in charge of is making sure it’s well-hung.” Stumbling forward, she sees that Peter (who just spoke) and Betty are admiring a large, framed print of him and Ned in cap and gown, clutching diplomas. MJ grabs a bottle of water from the case they carried up here at the beginning—it’s lukewarm, but practically glacial compared to the temperature of her face right now—and asks her friend if she wants to step outside to get a little air before they continue.

Leaning against the wall of the building, MJ chugs some of her water, then hands it off to Betty. While her friend’s drinking, she says, “So, he’s gay, right?”

Betty catches the water that slops down onto her chin.

“What?”

“Peter. He’s gay.”

“I’ve seen him with guys when we’ve all gone to the bar together—”

MJ breathes deeply in relief. She needs him to be gay; the knowledge will quell how she feels when he utters these outrageous, completely explainable sentences, or when he walks ahead of her up the stairs and she’s forced to stare at his ass for four floors, or when she remembers that look he gave her before they started moving everything.

“—but Ned mentioned a serious girlfriend Peter had in high school, so I think he’s bi. Oh my god,” Betty adds in a tone of realization that scares the hell out of MJ. “You want him.”

It takes rapid backtracking and a convincing presentation of the facts (those being every suggestive thing Peter’s said today and leaving out the part about his ass) to wipe the excited look off her friend’s face.

“So, you’ve just been misunderstanding him. And eavesdropping.”

“Can we call it eavesdropping if he has nothing to hide?”

“Fine,” Betty says, rolling her eyes. “It’s not eavesdropping because he has nothing to hide. I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve known Ned and, yeah, he might have an entire second identity, but the guy’s an open book. Peter couldn’t be sly if his life depended on it. He’s a goof, MJ. He’d never say that kind of stuff for real.”

Except that they hike back up to the apartment together and Peter’s voice drifts into the kitchen from one of the rooms down the hall, making the women halt and lock eyes.

“Remember how many backpacks May bought you in high school?” Ned chuckles. “This reminds me of that.”

“I do go through a lot of headboards. I’m not trying to break them, but I always put my legs into it too much and I just go so deep.”

“The room,” Betty babbles next to her, gripping her wrist. “I’m sure he’s talking about the depth of the room, coming in through the window too quickly from patrol.”

“It’s easy for you to tell yourself that,” MJ points out. “You’re engaged. You have no reason to think about Peter like that.”

Ned emerges and heads straight for Betty. These two are so gross together that neither of them protests against being hugged, though they’re sweaty from labour. With his arm around her friend’s waist, Ned turns to address MJ.

“Are you hanging around for a while?”

“Yeah, definitely. I can help unpack,” she pledges.

“Great. I know Peter’d like to get curtains put up for privacy today too, because, you know, being Spider-Man and having all these windows don’t really go well together, and you’re the tallest. He’ll probably want your help.”

She’d rather be assigned the task of choosing which kitchen cupboard will hold his plates, his glasses, the cans of premade soup she imagines Spider-Man relies on when he’s always darting around at night, too busy to devote a lot of time to making dinner. But she’s here to help. It’s not her apartment; she’ll go where she can be useful (any maybe do some sneaky rearranging later if he makes dumb organizational choices).

“Babe,” Ned says to Betty, “I’m going on a beer run—and maybe tacos, do you feel like tacos?—do you wanna come with me?”

“Of course, babe, but I don’t want…”

She looks at MJ, who’s trying to be inconspicuous, sorting the boxes labelled ‘KITCHEN’ from those labelled ‘LIVING ROOM’.

“One sec,” Betty tells her fiancé, walking over to MJ. “Will you be alright here if we go out for food?”

“Mhmm.”

Without glancing over, she plucks the X-Acto knife from her overall pocket and slices through packing tape to reveal nested pans, cloaked in mismatched dishtowels to prevent scraping during transport. The combination of careful and slapdash makes her smile to herself.

“It’s rush hour now, so I’m not sure how long we’ll be,” Betty warns.

“That’s fine.”

“I think we all need a little fuel before we settle in to unpack.”

“Yeah.”

“MJ,” her friend says sharply.

“What?”

“Are you ok being alone with Peter for a while?”

“Yes,” MJ says, rolling her eyes. “He’s Ned’s best friend and he’s Spider-Man, not some random creep. I’m not afraid he’s going to jump me. Anyway, I have this.” She waggles the knife.

“I’m more worried about you jumping him.”

She narrows her eyes at Betty.

“Have a little respect for my self-control.”

Her friend just shrugs.

“I’d understand. There’s the allure of him being a superhero and, more importantly, the fact that Ned and I can both vouch for him being a genuinely great guy.”

MJ narrows her eyes even more, this time in suspicion.

“Is this a moving day or a blind date?”

“Oh please.”

“That’s not an answer. Betty,” she presses, but her friend turns and grabs Ned’s hand. The wave as they leave the apartment is mockingly innocent.

Alone, MJ darts a glance down the hall, where she knows Peter is still doing whatever in the bedroom. She’s not going to race in there like some glassy-eyed fangirl. Even if Betty does endorse him so warmly, and he does seem so down-to-earth, and his ass does look like that in his jeans. She lifts his cookware out, one piece at a time, then moves on to the tangled jumble of utensils in the next box, trying to separate a pair of tongs from a warped spatula. She doesn’t hear Peter walk into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says suddenly from behind her.

MJ jumps and holds up the tongs threateningly, but her hand falls as she stares at him. He’s wiping sweat from his neck with the hem of his navy t-shirt. There are his abs and the taut skin below his navel.

“If you have a minute, could you give me a hand with this rod? I can’t get it up on my own.”

Her gaze springs up to his face and she stares at him.

“Huh?”

“The… curtain rod?” Peter says. “I can stand on a chair to do the one end, but I can’t do both ends at once. Do you think you could—”

“Yeah, sure.”

His smile is pleasant and relieved and MJ follows him into the bedroom like he hit her with some sort of magic spell, not just artless, unintentional dirty talk. She sets the tongs down on the floor by the wall; whoops.

“Warm in here,” she notes as she sidesteps a clear plastic tote of Peter’s clothes.

“Yeah, I was gonna open the window, but I didn’t know if the humidity would only make it worse.”

MJ watches as he gestures with one hand and props the other on his hip, hiking up his t-shirt to hook his thumb in the waist of his jeans. She encourages him to go ahead and risk it. The space is unbearable without at least the illusion of fresh air. She redoes her drooping ponytail, feeling new sweat slide down the nape of her neck as Peter crouches and jerks the window up from its sticky sill. Her gaze, and possibly her mind, gets lost somewhere in the breadth of his shoulders. His triceps look as hard and as perfectly rounded as the rolling pin that was still in the box when she left the kitchen. Emptying her chest pocket of odds and ends—knife, scissors, permanent marker, Allen key—MJ unbuckles her overalls, letting the straps and the bib hang down. The buttons on the hips keep the pants part up, but she can’t stand to have the whole thing closing her in any longer. She can’t breathe.

They each take an end of the curtain rod and Peter uses his knees to climb onto his nightstand, already positioned against the wall. It’s overkill because he’s not that much shorter and MJ can hook her end into the bracket without even having to get up on her toes. She’s done first and turns to look at Peter, kneeling on the nightstand with his thighs apart. She pictures joining him on that narrow surface, straddling his lap. God. How long have Betty and Ned been gone?

Then again, why fight it?

“Having some trouble getting it in?” she asks.

The rod clunks against the wall as Peter whips his head around to look slightly down at her.

“Your rod,” MJ clarifies. “You want me to take over? I can handle it.” At his continued dumbstruck silence, she goes on. “Or I can just direct you from here. You could try working it back and forth a little until you get the perfect angle. Then I’m sure it’ll ease right in.”

He hardly seems aware when the curtain rod falls into place. After a few extra moments of immobility, he dismounts and swishes the semi-sheer curtain across the window. She can feel his eyes on her, tracing the strip of stomach between the bottom of her crop-top and the folded-over denim of her overalls.

“What’s next?” she asks. “Maybe go into the bathroom and investigate the plumbing? Or, you know what, I didn’t finish unpacking your utensils. Would you rather go back to the kitchen and get your hands on my box?”

“What are you doing?”

It sounds like his chest is tight, like he’s forcing the words out. MJ smiles gently at the real-life superhero into whose apartment she has miraculously been deposited for today and perhaps only today.

“Helping.”

“Did you have to call it handling my rod?”

“Did you have to tell me you couldn’t get it up without me?” she challenges.

Peter’s mouth falls open and he makes a choked sound of protest, but she raises her eyebrows at him, daring him to argue.

“You asked me for a hand with your rod,” MJ presses. “That was you. You started it. And it wasn’t even then, it was hours ago. What is there in this apartment that you haven’t made some sort of phallic reference to?!”

“I… did I? I’ve been doing that?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Spidey. Own it or don’t, but don’t pretend you haven’t heard some of the shit you’ve said today.”

“Are you offended?” he asks, avoiding her eyes, but not her body; he takes his time staring at that.

“I might be if you don’t do anything about it,” she huffs. “I’d hate to think that Spider-Man’s all words and no action.”

“I’m off-duty.” A sly smile.

“We can just talk,” MJ says casually, thinking that she’ll possibly die of heat exhaustion and unresolved sexual tension if they stand around chatting. “Why don’t you tell me how Spider-Man’s managed to crack so many headboards?”

He shoots her the same kind of look he gave her on the sidewalk.

“It wasn’t always Spider-Man.”

She smirks and gives him a look of her own.

“Then why don’t you show me?”

It’s the honesty in his expression that she appreciates as Peter surges towards her, grabbing her face between both hands and kissing her urgently. She grips his waist and scrunches his t-shirt in her hands. At the first little pause they take to snatch a breath, she peels the shirt up and he yanks it off the rest of the way.

“Nice,” she breathes, stroking his torso with her gaze before adding her hands.

He gives her a jerky nod of acknowledgement and goes for her shirt. Tugging it off screws up her ponytail again, but she doesn’t have time to care; Peter’s kissing her, wet and demanding, while he reaches around and fumbles to unhook her bra. When he nudges his hips against her, she feels him. He’s been making sideways insinuations about his dick all day (whether he admits it to her or not), and here’s the real deal at last. MJ presses her tongue slickly into his mouth, eyelashes fluttering at the urge to open her eyes and see what kind of face he’s making to accompany the groan he lets out as she deepens the kiss. As he draws the straps of her unfastened bra down her arms, she regretfully takes her hands off his chest, swiftly unbuttoning her overalls. Left side buttons, then right. Peter hampers her by grabbing her ass and rolling his hips forward as she’s trying to get her pants down. She doesn’t discourage him. It’s thrilling that he’s handsy.

The room’s a mess—not dirty, thankfully, and she assumes he must’ve come on another day to vacuum and clean, but with a short, uneven stack of boxes in one corner, the container of clothing, the box spring and mattress leaning together against the wall, and the headboard, poking out of the closet because he hasn’t put his bedframe together yet. MJ hates disorganization, especially when it fucks with the logistics of what has all the promising tempo and quick chemistry of a fantastic hookup.

“We could just…” He huffs, lifting his mouth off her neck where he’s started licking and sucking. “…tip the mattress onto the floor?”

She’s taken aback by the idea of fucking Spider-Man on a mattress in the middle of his mess of a bedroom. With the curtain as the only thing to show they made any progress in this room before giving in to their libidos. But she’s in her underwear, overalls ringing her ankles, and the man beneath the famous mask looks hot as hell when he’s been kissed hard and riled into an expectant erection. How else are they going to pass the time before their friends return? Fanning out magazines on his coffee table?

“Let’s do that,” she agrees.

They work as a team to control its fall. The room’s carpeted, so the mattress doesn’t make much of a sound beyond a soft thump when it hits the floor. MJ frowns at it thoughtfully. “You don’t have sheets.”

“Fuck sheets,” Peter says, half declaration, half laugh, and walks across the mattress to get to her.

She smiles against his mouth because it’s funny that he’s momentarily taller, standing on the mattress while her feet are still on the floor. Good thing he’s already taken his shoes off. MJ pulls away and drops to unlace her own sneakers, very, very aware of the rasp of Peter unzipping his jeans right above her head. She steps out of her shoes and overalls, then frees her hair of the elastic, flinging it spontaneously across the room, tousling her hair in her hands to fight the tingling of her scalp as she straightens up.

Oh. He’s already stripped his boxers off.

If her mouth actually does fall open as dramatically as it feels like it just has, it’s fine. MJ forgives herself. You’re supposed to be embarrassed after meeting a celebrity, wincing over every rambling sentence you blurted at them and every awkward twitch in your high-strung body language. Only you will ever recall your spastic behaviour. The celebrity forgot you the moment you exited their line of sight. Wait, will Peter mark her down as a horny fan and forget her? She hasn’t known him long enough to separate the man from the heroic icon, but she hopes neither side of his identity involves treating a partner like that. But no. Doesn’t matter. She can overanalyze later. Peter takes her hands and guides her onto the mattress where they make out standing up for a few minutes—him hot and rigid against her stomach, her not quite naked—before things get so heated that they collapse with roaming hands (Peter) and trembling knees (MJ).

For such a wholesome figure, Spider-Man curses wildly as he slides her underwear off, nose skimming down her skin from between her breasts to below her bellybutton while he works.

“You… you look…” he pants, propping himself up on his hands just to admire her. She has to confess, to herself alone, that it’s flattering, that it’s already making her want more of this: reckless afternoon sex in her friend’s fiancé’s best man’s new apartment. “God, I’m so glad you—”

“Called your bluff?” she suggests wryly.

“And everything before that. I’m so glad you were standing on the sidewalk when I got out of that truck.”

Well. That’s a little earnest. Then again, the man is hovering over her in the nude, so they’re in the heat-of-the-moment realm, during which time, comments of disconcerting earnestness do not count, or can be retracted later with no fault to either party.

To counteract it, MJ teases, “Are you saying you’re glad I came?”

“I’m glad you didn’t immediately leave when I said that thing about my wood,” he confides, kissing swiftly back up to her chest and using nothing but his tongue to toy with her breasts. She gasps at the sudden pull of his teeth, then laughs.

“So you were saying that shit on purpose.”

“Don’t be mad that I was too intimidated by your hotness to flirt with you to your face.”

His tone is playfully giddy and she likes this guy, she really does. She gets a good grip on his soft brown curls and tows him up for more kissing. Her knees bump his bare hips as she forms a cradle for him to drop into. Hint, hint.

Luckily, Spider-Man knows his cue.

He rocks between her legs and her chest rises and falls like breathing is a massive exertion. His angle is almost just right, so MJ shuffles and shifts and he’s endlessly patient as she rubs against him from below, testing. Well, not endlessly patient. The instant she moans in satisfaction, he’s got a hand wrapped desperately around her hip as he grinds down with tenacity. Right. This isn’t just any hookup, any guy. This is the guy who makes a career out of not backing down. Heat flows through her at the sudden thought of being handled with the intensity of one of Spider-Man’s mission.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she says as she feels the head of him slip lower, skipping across her entrance. “Condom.”

Intense, and kind of a lustful dumbass.

“Right,” he agrees, flushed when he raises his face from where he’s been breathing in the scent of her hair. “I have one, uh, in my wallet.”

And then he doesn’t break away from her for a good ten seconds, like he’s hoping she’ll let him slide in bare. Horny motherfucker. MJ wants to screw Spider-Man, not birth his crime-fighting offspring. She tucks her chin and gives him a look that promises, as much as it would pain her, this thing is shutting down here and now if he doesn’t wrap it up. With a resigned exhalation (and a little smile implying he knows what he was trying to get away with), Peter pushes off of her and goes to dig around in the pocket of his jeans. She rolls onto her stomach to study the ropy musculature of his thighs. When he extracts the condom with a triumphant burst of sound, she flips onto her back again and watches him trip over the jeans he just dropped. There’s a charming contrast between this unexpected klutziness and her assumption that he could pull anybody with a pulse using those trusting brown eyes and his Avengers status.

He crouches beside MJ and doesn’t take his eyes off her, flapping the condom between his fingers.

“Should I put this on or do you wanna put it on me?”

She presents her palm.

“Give me that. You can’t even be trusted to install a curtain rod.”

“Oh, I’m extremely ready to install a rod,” he says eagerly, watching her tear the condom open and reach for his waiting cock.

“You know, you’re a real dork for a guy with those commitments and that ass.”

“Thank you?”

Before his uncertainty can swell to self-congratulations, MJ rolls the condom roughly down his dick, making him heave and shake, hips bucking into her perfunctory hold. Smirking, she closes her fist and pumps him quickly, eyes on the blank bliss on his face, his slack jaw. After a brisk minute of this, he begs her to slow down, then, still kneeling at her side, cups between her legs and starts fondling her at an even more vigorous pace than she was using on him. Her breaths come in hiccups and she can’t point out how unfair this is. Just as she’s arching for more, thinking she’s about to come faster than she ever has in her life, Peter stops cold.

“Are you ready to—”

MJ glares and knocks him back onto his ass, then scrambles onto his lap, continuing to push him down until his shoulders touch the mattress. His expression is cheerily confused.

“I was this close,” she says, pinching her fingers together until they nearly touch. When her complaint brings an impish smile to Peter’s face, she pinches those fingers around his nipple, so he hisses and curls into himself. Shaking her head at him, she takes hold of his erection and eases down onto his lap. His ecstatic chant of, “Oh man, oh man, oh man,” is moderately distracting, but MJ persists. It’s just who she is: stoic.

“God,” he groans beneath her as she begins swaying forward and back, “this is almost as good as catching the midnight opening of a new Star Wars.”

She covers his mouth with her hand and he laughs behind it.

“I was just trying to lean into your perception of me. I’m kidding.”

“Are you though?”

But she frees him for the noises he makes. Some of these grunts and whimpers scale her spine like a ladder, raising goosebumps as they go, until the whole sensation comes shivering back down and she finds herself riding him harder.

“Firm mattress,” she huffs.

“’S new. The last one was awful on my back and—ughhhhhhhohfuuuck—with the hazards of my line of work, I figured I gotta start taking care of myself.”

“If you won’t, I will,” MJ mumbles, curving forward to lick his chest, charting it all under her tongue, as she continues to shove back against him.

“Fuck,” he says, short and sharp. He seizes her hips and rolls her beneath him. “You should know, you taking control is a big turn on for me.”

“Clearly.”

She’s not sure how much sarcasm comes across in her gasp because his manhandling has knocked the wind out of her. Actually, she’s happy to let him steer things; being on top was starting to remind her legs of every step she’s walked up and down in this apartment building today, carrying Peter’s shit. He kneads some of the tightness away when he grasps her thigh and digs in with a roll of his fingers. Her moan is as much in relief as arousal. Then he starts thrusting so fast and deep that he has to pull her back towards him every so often so she isn’t forced off the mattress. The hum leaving her mouth is somewhere between breathing and moaning, one note that drags on and on, jumping and breaking when he catches her mouth in sloppy, ravenous kisses.

He’s still doing his damnedest to make out with her when her lips part with a genuine shriek. The tickle of Peter’s tongue against the roof of her mouth somehow adds to the sensation, like a high vibration over the low thrum of him drilling in and out of her. MJ comes seconds into the beginning of her scream; Peter comes with a crack. The sheer force of her orgasm—Spider-Man is clearly not without finesse, he simply does not choose to employ it in favour of fucking like he’s a sportscar running a red on a highspeed chase—has her too stunned to figure out why the sound accompanying his was wrong.

“What was that?” she asks hazily as Peter slumps over her body, breathing hard and still gently thrusting. He’s sweaty, but so is she. With something like pride, she realizes he’ll have to go to sleep tonight with his mattress soaked in her scent.

“Leg slipped,” he says.

MJ does vaguely recall that. In the midst of her climax, he’d moved. It wasn’t enough to distract her, so she’d focused on the feeling, as well as the resolution to not let him get her that close to the edge a second time without going over it.

“And hit what?”

“Uhhh…”

He doesn’t appear to know either, with his bleary, punch-drunk expression that’s unfortunately pretty adorable. No, no, no. A hand with moving, a hasty fuck, and she’s out. The whole day’s been extremely worth her while. She tells herself she doesn’t need more.

But Peter rolls off and she misses his weight and warmth, his shape and soft eyes. He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress with his knees folded high when he goes, “Shit,” under his breath.

Because he also happens to be handling condom-removing at the time, MJ sits up fast, in a panic.

“Did it break?”

His posture inflates with a deep breath, then sags.

“Yeah. I don’t think there’s any way to salvage it.”

Salvage it? That’s a weird fucking thing to say in the situation, like it could possibly matter whether or not they were able to repair the condom after he’s already come inside her. Still, MJ’s skeptic nature makes her grab Peter’s shoulder and wrench it back, only to see the tied-off condom dangling between his fingers. It looks intact. She grips his chin and turns him to look at her.

“What do you mean it’s broken? It’s not in tatters. It’s not leaking.”

“What?” He squints at her, then follows her gaze to the condom. “Oh, not the condom. My headboard.”

Sure enough, she looks up and there’s his headboard, still protruding from the closet, but now in two pieces. The closest is on a slow, sad slide to the floor. He must’ve kicked it. MJ laughs breathlessly.

“Oh, thank god.” Abruptly, she’s pissed. “I thought you were talking about the condom! You don’t scare a woman like that!”

“You thought the condom broke?”

“You had it in your hands and said ‘shit’ in this horrible way and I thought…” She sighs.

“We could’ve made it work,” Peter argues, making her nostrils flare as she puts her underwear back on. “Our baby would be super cute.”

“Our baby?! We met hours ago.”

“I’ve developed stronger bonds in less time,” he says with a shrug, leisurely getting up and sliding his boxers up his legs. Nice ass. No. “You’d be surprised how soon after meeting me some of the villains in this city get themselves so worked up that they wanna kill me.”

She yanks her t-shirt over her head with silent ire. Then has to take it off again because she forgot to put her bra on first.

“Quit looking like that. Nothing happened to you.” Peter’s mouth turns down as he glances over to the wreckage of his headboard. “I have to replace that. Again.”

MJ’s seriously about to snap at this idiot for his insane priorities when he straights up stiffly as he’s stepping into the legs of his jeans.

“They’re back.”

“Who? Betty.”

“And Ned,” he says, now moving faster, doing the fly, throwing his own t-shirt on.

“Inside out,” she says. Not to be helpful, just so that Peter doesn’t give away exactly what they’ve been doing with their time since their friends left.

She goes to swat him when he comes towards her, but then his fingers are buttoning one side of her overalls while she does the other. MJ’s just clicked the straps back into place when the front door opens and closes. Sourness fading, she gives Peter a grateful nod for his help.

“Wait,” she hisses. “Where’s the condom?”

On the instruction of some bizarre reflex, he grabs it from the floor and whips it clear across the room, sending it sailing out the window. Her jaw drops in horror.

“I can’t believe you just—"

“Guys?” Betty calls. “The Mexican place up the street was closed, so we just hit the liquor store for now. How’s the bedroom coming?”

MJ and Peter race to the door; she pulls it closed so fast that it smacks him in the ass, but then he gives her this stupid look like he liked it. And here’s Betty.

“You’re sweaty,” she notes. “Been working hard? You guys get the curtain up?”

“Yep,” MJ says honestly. “No problem.”

Her friend beams in satisfaction, but her expression shifts to conspiratorial as she links her arm through MJ’s and starts to guide her towards the kitchen, likely wanting to know if Peter said anything else colourful during her absence. Except that moron decides to pipe up from right behind them.

“And when we finished with the curtain, we moved on to the bed.”

“You did what?” Ned demands from the kitchen, then comes hurtling around the corner.

“No,” Peter gasps. He flings himself back to the bedroom door and blocks it, holding both hands out to keep his best friend back.

“MJ?” Betty questions with a growing grin.

She glances between the three of them for a moment and realizes there’s no way Peter’s keeping this secret. Time to go on the defensive.

“You brought me here,” MJ argues. “I can’t be blamed for my weakness for organizing—”

“Oh,” Betty shoots back. “For organizing and not for—”

“—apartments. All I—”

“—Peter, who you were so clearly attracted to from the instant you saw him?”

“—wanted to do was—”

“Me?” Peter says, taking a hopeful stab in answer to MJ’s explanation.

She glares at him.

“You flirted shamelessly with me all day—”

“You didn’t even realize I was flirting.”

“—so how am I supposed to help it if— Oh,” MJ says, catching the end of that comment, “and is that supposed to negate the effect it had?”

“I loved the effect it had. I have nothing to say against it.”

“How did you two go from shy teenagers sneaking glances at each other to an old married couple within the last half-hour?” Ned asks, jubilant.

“You’d have to ask my new neighbours,” Peter says calmly. “I think the scream they overheard is probably enough of an explanation.”

“That scream was on you,” MJ protests.

“And the noise complaint I’ll probably get is on you!”

“Sounds like you two should exchange numbers,” Betty suggests brightly. “In case you need to follow up for that noise complaint.” They both look at her. Then, MJ withdraws her phone from the back pocket of her overalls and pushes it into Peter’s hand.

“Fine,” she says.

He agrees with a shrug, eyes on the screen as he taps out his information.

“Come on, you crazy kids,” Ned coos, “let’s grab a beer while they’re still hot from the walk back.”

Betty giggles at this and twines her fingers through her fiancé’s.

In the kitchen, she pulls MJ aside right as MJ’s contemplating squeezing past Peter a second time on the pretext of getting ice. (The first time, she pressed her ass to his groin and felt him rub against her in response.) She didn’t even need the ice; she dumped it straight into the sink.

“So, how was that?” Betty asks, searching MJ’s face keenly for approval and recognition of a job well done.

“Perfect,” MJ has to grant her. “He did something incredibly irritating right before you guys got back, so I’m sure he found my annoyance entirely organic.”

“Method number sixty-three for getting a guy’s number still works like a charm. Though you know you could’ve just asked me for it.”

“Yeah, but messing with him was more fun.”

Her friend smiles against the lip of her bottle.

“Do you feel bad?”

“Nah. He’s been messing with me all day.”

“Hey, MJ,” Peter calls to her from where he and Ned have started emptying another box marked ‘KITCHEN’. “You wanna help me screw something to the wall later?” Smiling broadly, he waves a magnetic wall-mounted knife holder.

“Like that,” MJ stresses to Betty, then tosses her bottle cap so it bounces off Peter Parker’s stupid, smug, handsome face.

#thotumn #peter parker is a thot #my writing #spideychelle #peter parker #michelle jones

[1kook]

baecation

Jeon Jeongguk x (F) Reader

summary⥗“Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart. tags⥗richboy!jk, -3 knowledge of how vacations work, domestic love!!!, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, fingering, jk’s white ass cheeks mention wc⥗5.9k u ever randomly get inspired for the first time in 2 months and write a whole fic in one night anyway enjoy

There were many perks to dating the heir of your city’s top conglomerate, the endless showering of gifts being one of them, but your favorite thing about your boyfriend wasn’t his overflowing pockets or his secure future, but the lovesick look in his eyes when you told him how much you loved him.

Jeongguk was an enigma.

He was born to be the stereotypical rich boy that authors of teen fiction could only dream of, his looks suitable for magazine covers and his brains destined for top-notch universities. His bloodline was carefully crafted by generations before him, every marriage carefully planned and executed with the ultimate goal to preserve their place in society as apex predators. In fact, Jeongguk’s entire life had been one big script his family had carefully pushed him along, from the fencing classes he took to the hiring of the nation’s best nannies to care for him, all subtle enough for him to not complain but demanding enough that he knew what was going on.

The only thing they hadn’t planned in Jeongguk’s life was him meeting you.

They had never planned for him to meet some middle-class girl, who was definitely not an heiress to any particular company or celebrity of any level, just some random girl he had accidentally bumped into leaving a charity event at the local community park. They hadn’t planned for his long, gangly arms to knock your phone out of your hand, or send it tumbling into the lake as you both watched on in horror. It was only after the quiet plop of water registered in both your ears that you had whirled on him, half of you in shock and the other in fury.

Jeongguk was, as previously stated, handed everything on a silver platter. His parents hardly bothered with teaching him how to do things. He barely understood how to work a washing machine, because all of that was done for him by other people. At the moment, he didn’t have to bother with taking an entrance exam to the best university this side of the country because he knew his parents would pay for the entire thing out of pocket. He especially didn’t ever have to worry about what to do when random girls scolded him in public sight, because frankly, it would never happen.

Yet here he was, completely startled as you told him to watch where he was going, and to learn how to apologize to people when you’ve done something wrong. He’d never had someone of a lower status than him treat him so aggressively before, and when you pause to catch your breath all he can stumble out is that he’ll replace your phone, he’ll even buy you the best model, what was your number so his people could reach out to you again?

The last sentence has you groaning in frustration, as you pointed furiously towards the lake, because how on earth was he supposed to contact you when your phone was 20 feet below surface level?!

After another fifteen minutes of you continuing your verbal rampage against him, the entirety of it which he’d spent fending off his security guard and his assistant (both who’d been appalled that he’d willingly let this peasant swear and curse at him) as he stared at you in awe.

When you finally calmed down and he’d offered to take you to the Starbucks across the street to figure out the details of your phone replacement, he’s surprised to find out your normal disposition is nothing like the one you’d first shown him. In fact, you’re rather sheepish and embarrassed at the coffee shop, albeit still a little upset with him for trashing your phone.

After you’ve finished nailing out the little details of your phone replacement, which included you hesitantly giving him your address, he leaves right away. He’s sad to leave so soon, having become completely enthralled with your entire being in the thirty minutes he’s come to know you, that he finds himself hopelessly staring out of the backseat of the Benz as he travels back to his upscale apartment in the heart of the city. He hopes you don’t forget him so soon.

To say you’re surprised to see a package on your doorstep the next morning is an understatement. You remember every online purchase you make, and if memory serves you right, you hadn’t made one in the past month to warrant its arrival today. After glancing down both ends of your hall, you tug the mystery package inside.

In hindsight you probably should have been more cautious of the entire situation, but part of you was extremely curious to see what brought this surprise on. After tugging the tape off and shuffling through the packing peanuts you’re met with a sleek box for the hottest and most expensive phone right now, a pink bow carefully tied around to secure a note.

One of our guard’s fished around the lake for the phone I misplaced and managed to retrieve the memory card. I hope you won’t mind the new contact I added.

Best,

Jeon Jeongguk

And thus was the start of your love story.

-

You’re wondering if Jeongguk’s sudden idea was truly a spur of the moment epiphany or another ploy for him to get out of going to the ball his father had planned at the end of this month. You’ve come to learn in the last two years that despite his perfect boy aura, he was quite the impulsive shithead. Eitherway, you know he would have invited you to wherever he was going, and if he hadn’t, his mother would have shipped you a gown from her favorite designer and asked you to drag him there.

As it stands, it’s not a fancy ball you’re preparing for this time around, but a luxurious spring break in the Bahamas, away from school and family and anything to ruin your mood for the next week. You’d just finished your midterms when he bursts into your dorm room, demanding you pack your bags, baby, we’re going to the beach! Evidently, it was not the local beach you were going to. No, the ‘beach’ Jeongguk had referred to was one he conveniently forgot to mention was an entire plane ride away. It wasn’t until he returned later that same day to usher you off to the airport that he realizes how sorely under packed you are.

So now here you were, frantically cramming a week’s worth of cute, summer-y clothes into the only suitcase you own, running back and forth from your closet to the suitcase to the desk where you kept all your beauty products and shower essentials, while your boyfriend ate one of your granola bars on your bed.

“You better not get any crumbs on the bed, you know I hate finding them later,” you scold, not even bothering to look at him as you stuff all your makeup into a small bag.

Jeongguk snorts. “You won’t even be sleeping here for a week, babe,” he says, voice calm and relaxed in the way only someone who’s already done packing can be. The only consolation to your current state was that Jeongguk had booked his family’s private jet, so you really couldn’t be late to a flight only the two of you would be on.

You turn around with a hand on your hip, giving him the same unimpressed look you always do when he’s being unreasonable. “I’m sure the mice you’re attracting will keep it warm for me.” He rolls his eyes, finishing off his snack and then making a big show of patting down your creaky mattress to rid it of any granola crumbs.

He’s settled back into the bed when he speaks again. “Take the orange crop top you bought from Forever 21 last month, it makes your boobs looks amazing.”

You tuck your socks and undergarments against the suitcase’s inner pocket. “Oh right, ‘cause that’s a priority right now.” You don’t wanna tell him it’s already folded against your other clothes because you, too, think it makes your boobs look amazing.

You hear the rustling of the bed sheets once more, before you see his long legs come to a rest around you, arms wrapping around your waist to watch you ruffle through the clothing you already have. “Not my fault my girl’s got a nice set on her.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you beg, reaching over to your pile of haphazardly thrown shorts and skirts to fold some more into your luggage. You’re careful of not moving far enough away that his arms would dislodge from their embrace. “We could have been halfway to the Bahamas right now if someone bothered to plan things ahead of time and not last minute as a means to get out of a charity ball.”

Jeongguk groans, letting his head fall forward to rest against your back, his soft breath leaving your back warm through your t-shirt. “Can’t a guy just steal his girlfriend away to the Bahamas for a week to avoid the overwhelming stress of life, and maybe choke on some exotic shrimp while she chokes on his di—”

“Get off of me, you pervert!”

The second you step foot on the archipelago that is the gem of the resort world, it’s about seven thousand degrees hotter than it was back home, and the sweat on the back of your neck can attest to that. The jet ride here had been pretty fun, it being your first experience flying private, but also flying in general. Jeongguk had kept you entertained both on the take off and landing, lips kissing down every inch of your neck with a promise for more later.

Well, it was later now, and the need to be sated was still present, something you’re not quite sure your boyfriend was aware of. Jeongguk was like that. Forgetful as fuck. The only reason he ever got anything done was because he had that assistant of his practically glued to his hip at every moment of the day, breathing down his neck every task he needed to complete. If it was up to Jeongguk, and Jeongguk alone, things would get done at a very slow pace.

But you were nothing like your boyfriend, and you suppose it’s why you two go together so well. While he put things to the side, you needed everything to be done right away and fast. Which is why you find yourself pulling him away from the scuba diving kiosk in an effort to check into your high-end cottage away from all the tourist hub.

“Babeee,” he whines, almost forgetting his luggage for the nth time, not used to actually having to haul his things by himself. “We could have seen the reef! You know, where all the fish are at? Where Nemo lives.”

“Uh huh, that’s nice,” you say, finding the driver Jeongguk’s assistant (bless his uptight, perfectionist ass) had booked for your arrival. “But we need to check in first and make sure our rental is all good.”

He seems miffed about the fact people actually have to do that, and had it not been his status as a trust-fund baby funding this entire trip, you would have liked to sock him right in the nose. But he’s your boyfriend and you’re used to his somewhat clueless ways by now, so you let it go.

You don’t know what you expected his assistant to rent out for you guys, but it certainly wasn’t the swanky beach house your driver pulls up to. It’s carefully secluded from the other houses around it, a high hedge-turned-fence surrounding the private yard. It hides a decent sized pool, a few lawn-chairs, and a hot tub from the public beach down below. The house itself is marvelous, complete with multiple bedrooms, two baths, and the most luxurious kitchen you’ve ever seen in a beach house.

“Oh,” you say upon stepping out of the car, mouth agape as you take in the sight of your accommodation for the next few days.

A pair of hands snake around your waist before carefully coming to rest above your navel. Jeongguk presses a gentle kiss to your temple, murmuring, “all for you, princess.” The waves crashing against the beach below are miniscule compared to the sudden blossoming of warmth in your chest.

“Shut up,” you shyly whine, turning around to envelope him in your arms. Your need for him and his body fades at the breathtaking sight behind you, and you find yourself forgetting about it completely as you venture around the house.

It’s the same day when you decide to go out into the yard and tan for a bit. Jeongguk had went in for a nap, a little tired from keeping you entertained on the long flight, because he’d stayed awake even when you fell asleep just in case you woke up scared. You don’t try to discourage him, watching him snuggle into the king mattress as you shuffle around for your bikini.

You’re absentmindedly applying another layer of sunscreen to your face, sunglasses pushed onto the top of your head. You’re completely enveloped by thoughts of your boyfriend, of how he could have easily ran off to the Bahamas alone (he went to Moscow last November on a trip to ‘find himself’), but he’d elected to whisk you off with him.

You tuck your AirPods—another gift from him—into your ears before finally settling into the comfort of a lounge chair, the sun’s rays beating down on you full force. It feels wonderful being away from everything you know with the comfort of returning. You’d always dreamt of visiting such places as a teenager, the presence of a lover or not, but now you truly got to live out those fantasies with Jeongguk.

He was a dream.

It’s about thirty minutes into your session when you register the sound of the sliding door, and you crack one eye open to see your refreshed boyfriend wandering into the backyard in a pair of swimming trunks and a goofy look on his face. “Oh, pardon me, I didn’t know such women came to the public pool,” he smirks.

You roll your eyes, not that he sees through the shades protecting you. “Don’t you dare try to roleplay with me, weirdo.”

He cackles, before somersaulting into the pool, and you find yourself squealing at the splash he makes. He disappears for a second under the water, but then pops back up at the ledge closest to you. “Come on, don’t be a pussy. Play along and maybe we’ll go to the spa tomorrow morning,” he offers.

“Fine.” You decide to join him, but not because the spa.

Jeongguk laughs at your petulant tone of voice, before sprawling out to float across the surface of the pool. “Great, so here’s what I was thinking. Me, the rich middle-aged husband coming here strictly for business. And you, the shy darling relaxing by the pool with her girlfriends who are all pushing her to go talk to me.”

“Sounds perfect, except for the part where I’m actually the sly minx coming here to scam a rich college boy out of his money, luring him into the most pleasurable sex he’s ever had, before ghosting him for all eternity and leaving him forever waiting for someone like me to come into his life again,” you propose.

Jeongguk blinks. “Wow, that sounded so realistic. You’re either really good at this, or… I should be worried,” he playfully accuses, before throwing over a gesture that says im watching you. You laugh.

“Just keep swimming, rich boy.”

He does as you tell him, playing in the water as you tune back into the music drifting into your ears. You’re about done tanning the front side of your body, and flip over to make sure your backside catches the rays as well. You set your sunglasses off to the side, and when you look back for them they’re adorning Jeongguk’s silly face as he doggy paddles around the donut floaty he found.

“Untie your top, dumby. Unless you want those ugly tan lines,” Jeongguk calls out in that brash tone of his. You flip him the bird, before sitting up in a very Ariel-esque pose to glance around your private yard.

As if sensing your hesitation, Jeongguk paddles over to your side, leveling you with an unimpressed look. “These bushes are as tall as a door, and there’s no one around for the next half mile, babe. Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.”

He truly knew the way to your heart.

You untie the knots at your back and your neck, carefully laying back down to get that perfect tan Jeongguk was talking about. Admittedly, you do feel a bit better knowing you won’t return home with noticeable tan lines, and that much is enough to have your topless self blissfully relaxing.

Your soundtrack is the playlist you had collected on the plane ride, occasionally joined by the splashing Jeongguk makes as he moves around the pool, and before you know it, your timer is ringing to let you know it’s time to flip over again. This time, you’re less hesitant about shedding your top, breasts bare to the sky as you throw the top over your eyes (guess where your sunglasses still where).

You hear a wolf whistle from the other side of the yard, and catch sight of Jeongguk sitting at the edge of the pool. His skin is glistening from the water, the sun enveloping him in its warmth. He’d been outside for a shorter time than you but somehow he’d accumulated a darker color faster. The sun loved him like no other. He’s pushing himself to his feet when he catches your gaze, mischievous smirk twisting his features as he rounds the pool.

“Didn’t know this was a nude beach,” he says, and you curse your body for the way it reacts to the sight of his messy hair and tone abdomen. Your nipples harden embarrassingly and you can’t even hide them.

“Tired already?” You muse instead, hoping he doesn’t comment on the state of your breasts. “Tired after a plane ride, tired after swimming. Didn’t know I was dating an old man.”

“Har har,” he says in a monotone voice, and you can’t help the curl of a smile at beating him at his own playful ways. He stops in front of you, and your expression is knocked clean off when the water droplets clinging to his body fall onto your warm skin.

“Jeongguk!” You whine, pushing him away with your foot in a valiant effort to save yourself from the cold water. If anything, your actions end up bringing your demise as he catches your ankle in his hand.

“Ah ah, princess,” he tuts, bending your leg upward only to place his knee where it once was. He ducks down to tower over you, your continuous squealing only bringing an evil smile to his face. “What did we say about tan lines?”

You push him away, groaning in defeat as his hair drips even more water onto your skin. “I took the top off, what now?”

He glances down, and for a moment, you’re confused as to what he sees that you don’t. You're only met with the sight of your yellow bikini bottom preserving the last of your dignity.

You scoff. “You’re kidding.”

Much to your chagrin, he’s not.

“You’re on one of the nicest islands in the world, staying in a private home with fences tall enough to stop Bigfoot from looking in, and you’re gonna tan with your bikini bottoms on? You’re ridiculous.”

You shove his shoulder, before resigning yourself to getting soaked by him as he shuffles around to squish you under his weight. “You’re ridiculous for thinking I’d be outside without any clothes on!”

He snorts against your shoulder, long arms moving around until he has one somewhat curled beneath you. “Nah. You are.”

“Don’t start with me, Jeon.”

He shifts again to look you in the eye. “Come on, ___. You’re really gonna get tan lines when you could avoid them?”

You roll yours eyes. “You couldn’t get me to go outside completely naked for a million bucks, baby.” The beginning of a grin curls around his lips. “Don’t even think about it.”

This brings a laugh out of him, before he’s laying back down to kiss your neck. “You’re silly.” All you can really hope for now is that him laying on top of you won’t give you an even worse tan line.

Just when you think he’s given up on his quest to have you completely naked outside, you feel the slightest tug on the tie holding your bikini in place, slapping your hand down on his as if he were a pesky fly. “Fine!” He huffs, rolling off you to jump back into the water. “I hope everyone sees your uneven tan.”

“No one would see a tan line on my coochie, Jeon,” you remind him, flinching when he decides to cannonball into the water right beside you, sprinkling you in another round of water pellets.

He emerges from the clear water a moment later, paddling to the ledge beside you to flick more water your way. “I will,” he retorts. “When I got you bent over tomorrow morning.”

You don’t hesitate to fling your bikini top his way, the yellow fabric smacking him across the face. “In that case, you should take those shorts off, because I certainly don’t wanna have to look at your pasty thighs.”

“You love my milky thighs,” he hums, traversing the length of the pool for his donut floaty again.

“Milky?”

Your tiny quarrel ends there, Jeongguk soon becoming too immersed in competing against himself in a breath-holding contest to bother you any longer. He’s adorable like this, cheeks puffed out like Mrs. Puff every time his head pops out of the water, that you almost forget to flip over when your timer rings again.

It’s in the midst of your repositioning that you dare take a peak beneath your bottoms. Much to your disdain, there is a growing disparity between the skin beneath your swimsuit and the skin around it. Nothing too bad, but if you were to lay out as long as you planned, it’d become embarrassingly noticeable. Your breasts had been saved from any differences thanks to Jeongguk’s early warning, and you begin wondering if shedding your bottoms would inflate his already huge ego.

No matter, you discreetly unknot the ties securing your bottoms, hoping he won’t notice from across the yard as you carefully slip them off.

You make quick work of laying on your stomach again, your ass finally catching some rays after being covered for so long. You won’t lie, there’s an unexpected wave of comfort that comes with being bare outside, your entire body wonderfully enveloped by the sun’s beaming rays. You snuggle into the lounge chair’s cushions as you nearly reach nirvana.

Your blissful state is ruined not even ten minutes later when the sound of Jeongguk’s heavy splashing comes closer and closer. It’s not until you hear the splat of his wet feet against the pavement that you realize you’re in trouble.

There’s a playful smack against your ass, and you yelp in surprise. “Jeon!” You whine, instantly sitting up on your forearms to narrow your eyes at him. He’s flashing you that playful grin of his as he plops down beside you, not even having to ask you to move over because you do so subconsciously

“Knew you’d give in eventually,” he sighs, leaning back on his palms as he tries to catch his breath. You decide to give up on your dreams of having a peaceful tanning session, turning around to face your glistening boyfriend.

“What do you want for lunch?” You ask instead, running a hand through the hair at the nape of your neck, rolling your shoulders around to get some movement back into them. He shrugs, slithering his way up the cushions to squish himself beside you. It’s a tight fit, but he makes it easier by throwing your leg over his middle.

“Probably some good food in the little village a mile from here. Could probably walk there too.” You hum in agreement, snuggling into his side. You’ve long since gotten over the coldness of his skin, cheek pressed against his chest. He’s got a hand on your lower back, partially to hold you close but also to stop you from rolling off the chair.

Right as your snoozing off, so wonderfully warm beneath the sun and comfortable in your birthday suit, you feel a pair of fingers brush against the backside of your thigh, and then ghost over your exposed pussy.

“You’re despicable,” you murmur, tweaking his nipple between your fingers. Jeongguk snickers, shifting you around so you’re mostly on top of him now, your awakened core pressed against his thigh.

“C’mon, princess,” he goads, running a pair of moist fingers along your thigh again, trying to carefully coax you into doing what he wants. Most things, you now realize, tend to go Jeongguk’s way regardless of other factors. “No one’ll hear us out here.”

“But what if someone does,” you point out, always the voice of reason when it comes to Jeongguk’s ideas. “We could get in trouble, Guk. I don’t know…”

“In trouble for what?” Is his smart rebuttal, shuffling beneath you so you can finally feel the swollen cock hiding beneath his swimming trunks. “Enjoying ourselves in our own home? Oh, the terror.” Upon seeing the uncertainty that still clings to your features, he drops the somewhat cocky attitude to press a kiss to your nose. “It’s all good, princess,” he soothes, ducking down to caress the side of your face with his cherried lips. “If anything, I’ll just bribe our way out of any trouble.”

“Ugh,” you groan, melting into him as you finally give in. “I hate when you say that.”

Jeongguk snuffles a laugh against your jaw, maneuvering the two of you around until you’re laid flat against the cushion with him hovering over you. “When I say what?” He teases. “That my wallet is as fat as my cock?”

You roll your eyes, untying the knot he’d done at the front of his shorts. “Get that fat cock of yours out before I change my mind.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he complies, setting one foot on the floor to push his shorts down, until you’re met with the sight of his stark thighs. You cackle, and his arrogant smirk is wiped off as he glances down at his two-toned legs.

“What happened to getting the perfect tan?” You sneer, tapping a finger against his muscled thighs. “Don’t tell me your ass is this white, too.”

He huffs in annoyance, before reclaiming his spot between your legs again, tugging you down until your cores are pressed together. “Shut up.” You do as he says, words catching in your throat at the feeling of his engorged cock brushing against your wet folds.

His slips a hand down to languidly toy with your folds, his fingers slightly pruny from all the time he spent in the water. It feels a little weird, but any complaints you may have had are wiped away when he nudges your bud with the tip of his pointer finger. You gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders at the sudden stimulation against your core. “Ohh,” you sigh, eyes rolling backwards.

“Feel good?” He checks, eyes trained on your expressions, lips unconsciously puckering to kiss you, even with your writhing beneath him. You let out a high-pitched mewl, much to your embarrassment, cheeks flushed warm from the sun and his ministrations. You nod belatedly.

He lets his wandering hands carry on, carefully travelling across the entirety of your folds. He knows your body like no other, so familiar with the dips and curves, that it’s impossible for him to not immediately locate your g-spot upon plunging his fingers inside you. “G-Guk!” you cry out, hands falling to grip at his biceps.

He presses a kiss to your throat. “That’s it, baby, lemme hear you,” he murmurs, and subtly presses his cock to the inside of your thigh. “Looked so delicious out here,” he sighs, and it’s as if he’s talking to himself. “Wanted to fuck your pretty little pussy from the second I stepped outside.”

Your back arches beneath him at a particular scissor of his fingers, another whine caught in your throat. “Want you so bad,” you whimper, reaching a hand up to tangle in his dark locks. You use the leverage to pull his lips towards yours, meeting in a frantic crash that has you whining against him even more.

His tongue slips past your lips, subduing yours when you try the same on him, and you almost choke on the excess saliva pooling in your mouth. Right before you can, he pulls back in favor of trapping your lower lip between his teeth. Your eyes flutter open, and you meet his own dark gaze.

“Ready?” He huffs, pulling his fingers out from within you. They’re shiny with your slick, almost as wet as they’d been when he was swimming earlier. You nod, dazed from all the pleasure he was giving you, that you can’t do more but spread your legs for him. He leans back on his knees, lining himself up with your hole.

You’d long since eliminated condoms from your relationship with Jeongguk, your trust in each other overwhelmingly so. Besides, you were still on the pill, and Plan B existed, so you never really worried about slipping up and accidentally getting yourself pregnant. Although there were times when he’d go overboard, stuffing you with his cum until you feel bloated, you’d never gotten pregnant before, so you wouldn’t begin to worry now.

Just the idea of feeling him in his entirety has you salivating, needy hands reaching out to grasp any part of him you can reach. Jeongguk snickers at your desperate ways, knotting his fingers with yours before pressing them to the cushion beneath you, the other gripping onto your thigh to keep your legs spread.

The second his tip pushes through the initial tightness, your mouth drops open, indecipherable noises escaping you. “J-Jeon,” you cry, chest heaving at the sudden intrusion.

“Relax for me, princess,” he huffs, just as out of it as you. Your body feels like it’s ascended, Jeongguk’s cock slowly pushing in further with each breath you take. It doesn’t take much longer for him to completely bottom out, the warm skin of his thighs pressing against you.

You’re like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as your body slowly assimilates to the feeling of being so absolutely full. It’s not until Jeongguk subtly shifts his weight onto his other leg that you give him the green light to start fucking you.

You moan, the first few thrusts hitting against every sweet spot inside you. “God, you’re so fucking big,” you heave, clenching around him just to feel the drag of his cock against your walls.

Jeongguk chuckles through his own pants, the fingers entwined with yours becoming impossibly tighter. “You’re too good for me,” he sighs, hauling your thigh further up his forearm until its resting in the crease of his elbow. The positioning allows his strokes to go deeper. You cry out, squirming beneath him with each thrust he gives.

“Oh fuck,” you cry wantonly when he plunges deeper into you, the water that decorated his skin long having been replaced by the sweat clinging to him. Your eyes flutter shut and you’re left only listening to the sounds of you, Jeongguk, and the ocean waves beneath you. “I love you,” you whimper.

Jeongguk grunts, ducking down to kiss you again, his hips not once slowing down. “Love you too, princess,” he murmurs. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you,” he groans, puncuating his statement with a brutal thrust of his cock into you. “Gonna buy you that pretty Valentino bag when we get back, I promise,” he adds, picking up his pace.

You whine, “You don’t have to, Jeon, I—”

He cuts you off, “and that silver Audi you liked at the car show last winter,” he rambles on, seemingly clueless to your protest. “A-And maybe that Louis Vuttion coat that brings out the color in your eyes—”

“I saw the same one at H&M,” you interrupt, swiveling your hips upwards to meet his thrusts. He chokes out a laugh.

“Shut up and just let me spoil you,” he groans, and then seemingly forgets what else he was planning on buying you as he focuses his complete attention on helping you reach your orgasm.

With his focus solely on that, you find the burning feeling in your lower abdomen grow tenfold, voice becoming more annoying with each moan and whine you give. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages, his thrusts sending tingles up and down your spine. He peppers kisses down your chest, each touch leaving your skin scorching.

Time seems to slow when the coil in your stomach finally snaps, an embarrassingly loud moan leaving your lips as your body spasms beneath him. “Oh, Jeongguk,” you sigh, falling limp on the lounge chair as he continues chasing his high.

He pulls out soon enough, giving his cock a few tugs before he’s spurting his come across your lower abdomen, leaning back to admire his masterpiece. He’s panting afterwards, and the backyard feels eerily quiet as you both just gaze at each other with goofy smiles on your faces.

The romantic aura is ruined when he feels the need to say, “hey, maybe now my ass won’t be so white.”

“Fuck, you look sexy,” he murmurs when the instructor finally turns around, leaving Jeongguk to gawk at your body in the tight wetsuit provided. “Gonna fuck you so good tonight.”

“Shut up,” you blush, trying to stop your eyes from violating your boyfriend’s disgustingly gorgeous body in the matching wetsuit he wears. “We’ll get kicked out of the group, Guk.”

He rolls his eyes. “I could have rented the whole place out for us, but someone thought scuba diving with the other corny tourists would be fun.”

You flick his forehead. “You don’t have to buy out every building we go to,” you remind him, memories of this morning’s completely empty breakfast bar flickering to attention. “Besides, I wouldn’t have let you fuck me tonight anyway.”

He scoffs at your claim. “Please, you would have begged me, ___.”

You hit him with the wide end of your swimming fin, then have to apologize to the instructor for your horseplay, much to Jeongguk’s amusement. You narrow your eyes at him, following the rest of the group out onto the boardwalk leading to the boat. “Find me a Nemo, and we’ll do it in the beach cabana.��

Jeongguk’s lips twists into the most devious smirk you’ve ever seen, and he smacks your ass as he runs ahead of you. You yelp, just as he turns to face you just as he nears the group. “Has anyone seen my son?”

#the last line is a nemo reference #kpopwonderlandtag #thekpopnetwork #jeon jeongguk #jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

[otonymous]

I just found this and omg,, i’m in love with your writing and stories!! I read your nsfw alphabet for Lucien, how about one for my man Victor? :D

Hi dear Anon! 

Thank you so much for checking out my work and your super sweet comment!  💕Here’s a NSFW alphabet for everyone’s favourite pudding-making, time-controlling CEO!  Hope you like it and happy reading! 😊

Warning: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language - reader discretion is advised.

The ABCs of Victor (MLQC Headcanon - NSFW)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Victor enjoys taking a warm, luxurious bath with you after sex, your back laying flush against his rock hard pecs and the man soaping every deliciously sore body part with the gentlest of hands, as if paying homage to a goddess who took him to new heights of pleasure.  Expect to be surrounded by lit candles with beautifully subtle scents

Afterwards, relax and rejuvenate in his silk sheets and a mattress so comfortable you have to double check to ensure you’re not sleeping on a cloud

Victor already had his butler prepare a sumptuous yet healthy spread for the two of you, left on a cart outside his bedroom door

You can bet he’ll have some of that pudding from Souvenir as a special post-coital treat

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your collarbones: loves pressing kisses and running his tongue along them.  Gets a certain sense of satisfaction in buying you the most exquisite necklaces to further highlight their appeal

Just the slightest peek from the collar of your top has the blood rushing to his cock

Victor is proud of his broad shoulders and arms, especially his biceps: they’ve always been naturally buff, and he loves to bounce you in the air for some hot standing sex (bonus points if there’s a mirror nearby)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

This elegant man loves to give you an equally elegant pearl necklace by cumming on your neck and chest

He also loves it when you swallow (please see “Dirty Secret” below)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Victor loves to see your mouth glisten with his cum, and he especially loves tasting it from your lips

The CEO cannot resist pulling you in for a deep kiss after you’ve taken his release in your mouth

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Victor knows what he is doing: his attentiveness to your physical and emotional needs will keep you beyond satisfied and coming back for more

He had a past relationship with an older, more experienced female who gave him a crash course in sex, sensuality and seduction

F = Favourite Position

Like Lucien, Victor has a couple of favourites

He loves to bounce you onto his cock while he’s standing up, your legs hooked over his elbows and pressed against the solid bulge of his biceps

There is no shortage of mirrors in his bedroom: this man loves to watch as he impales you onto his rock hard erection, fully drenched in your arousal

He also enjoys good old Missionary with a twist: your head is hanging off the edge of the bed, the position making your collarbones more prominent.  Victor cannot help but mark them up with fervent kisses as he’s pounding into you, the blood rushing to your head as well as your pussy

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Overall, Victor tends to be more serious when it comes to lovemaking, although there have been times when you’ve made him chuckle with an odd comment

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Victor is bare.  Completely bare.  Feel free to suck his balls into your mouth

You wouldn’t even know if the carpet matches the drapes because the man keeps his personal aesthetician busy

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Victor is incredibly big on romance and affection

Throughout the act, he’s looking deeply into your eyes, kissing your lips, the tip of your nose, your closed eyelids, pressing his forehead to yours, burying his face into the nape of your neck to inhale deeply

Contrary to the brusque way in which he usually speaks on a daily basis, words of devotion and admiration are spilling from his lips

He’s telling you he loves you, that you’re his everything and the one thing he cannot lose in his life.  That he would willingly throw everything away for you if that’s what it took to make you happy, that the fruits of his hard labour would amount to nothing if you weren’t there to share them with him

And he means every word

It may not be readily apparent, but Victor needs you to tell him you love him with all your heart as well; for someone who comes off as completely confident and self-assured, you might be surprised to find that he always craves this reassurance

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

The CEO masturbates around 2-3 times/week

Victor prefers to remain pent-up to heighten your lovemaking sessions when they finally do happen

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

As mentioned previously, Victor loves to watch as you make love: his bedroom has a number of well-placed mirrors and he has made recordings of you guys in the past (all securely encrypted, of course)

When the CEO does jerk off, he’ll often refer to these videos

He also loves fucking you in the ass (only if you’re down with it, of course)

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Places that are comfortable, luxurious and completely private…so in his own home or the penthouse suites of the most expensive hotels

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Needless to say, you’re his biggest motivation (see “intimacy” above)

The sight of you riding a horse also does things to him

Victor is putty in your hands when you kiss his.  Suck his long, tapered fingers into your mouth and shyly lick at his knuckles and the CEO will be restraining himself from ripping off every article of clothing from your body

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Like Lucien, Victor does NOT share

He wants you in your entirety and would be completely broken on the inside if you even mention adding another participant into the mix in the bedroom

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Definitely prefers to give oral and THE MAN IS SKILLED & THOROUGH

Don’t get me wrong, Victor loves having your lips and tongue on his cock as well, but he really gets off on giving you pleasure and tending to your every need

He really wants to please you

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

At least initially, Victor tends towards slow and sensual because of his MASSIVE COCK

He is patient and meticulous when it comes to his foreplay: he knows how important it is to ensure you are fully aroused, opened and properly lubricated before he even considers entering you for fear of hurting you

Once you have comfortably acclimatized to his size, the pace and depth of Victor’s thrusts will start to increase

He will never, ever be needlessly rough (the man always has your comfort in the back of his mind)

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not a big fan of quickies

To Victor, lovemaking is a ritual and cannot be rushed

If he had his way, he would devote an entire day to enjoying each other’s bodies, relishing the time spent in really getting to know one another incredibly well: the places to lick to make you moan the loudest, the frequency with which his fingers should press and curl deep inside you to make your legs tremble and shake

He would rather forego sex than engage in a quickie, waiting for the opportunity to take you to his home or at least a luxe penthouse suite at the best five-starred hotels

This also has the added benefit of getting the two of you so pent-up that the sex is absolutely EXPLOSIVE when you finally get the chance to be alone together

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Victor himself tends to be a bit more reserved, but he’s willing to experiment for your sake if you express interest in something (as long as it doesn’t involve a third party — see N above)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Victor is a swimmer and fit as shit, so you know the man’s got stamina for DAAAAYYYSSSS

Quality over quantity: the CEO can go a couple of rounds per lovemaking session, but each round lasts a while

He’s able to exert incredible control over his body, pulling back at the right time to delay his release, then slowly building it up all over again

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Victor doesn’t have toys to use on himself

But he does have a vibrator from that time you expressed curiosity in how it would feel to be double-penetrated. That toy has since seen many uses.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Victor isn’t much of a tease at all

Believe it or not, he actually lives to please you — so feel free to tease him as much as you want if that’s what you’re into

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Mr CEO is not known for being loud in the bedroom

That’s not to say he won’t pant hot and moist in your ear just as he’s about to come

Expect heavy breathing, the odd moan and groan here and there

That doesn’t mean your man is silent: Victor loves to talk, his language both sweet and filthy at the same time

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Before you have to part, the man likes to reach between your legs to gather and smear your arousal on several of his pulse points, much like he would with cologne, just so he can have the subtle hint of your scent remind him of you for the rest of the day

Contrary to his usual exacting and stern external façade, Victor is actually super, super soft for you - this is typically revealed during moments of intimacy

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Victor has a BIG COCK (see Pace above)

The man is long AND thick

Not much curvature

Cut and completely bare

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is average (see Quickie) — the man is able to delay gratification until he’s capable of properly fucking you well and good

It also cannot be helped that the man is so busy keeping tabs on so many things at LFG — he simply cannot afford to be thinking about sex all the time

All the same, his sex drive goes from zero to sixty at the slightest remembrance of you

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn’t fall asleep quickly after sex

Victor needs time to come down from his high even after all that physical exertion and his climax — hence he enjoys taking a nice, warm bath with you afterwards: you’re able to clean yourselves off while relaxing and preparing for a nice post-coital slumber

——————————————————————————————-

Thanks for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚

#MLQC #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc smut headcanon #q&a #anonymous #all request line #my writing #Victor #li zeyan

[jetsandbennie]

roger taylor - nsfw alphabet.

i was desperate to do it. honestly. that’s it. i’ll probably do more alphabets, for different people, but here ya go for now.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Roger isn’t overly sappy after sex but he’s not a dick, either. Typically he’ll roll out of bed after a minute and grab a wet washcloth from the bathroom - if he wants to tease you he’ll let it drip on your skin and laugh as you squeal - or, sometimes, he’ll bury his face between your thighs and clean up the mess himself. The latter usually leads to another round, though.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Of you, Roger loves your hands and your thighs. Your hands, because he loves interlocking your fingers - innocently or while he’s on top of you, pinning you to the bed - and he loves what they can do to him. He likes your thighs because of how they feel over his shoulders, pressed against his ear, and how when he’s grabbing your ass he can trail his hand just a bit further down and grab your thighs too.

On himself Roger would, of course, say his dick, but he likes his hands, too. Likes that they can make you come, and they allow him to play the drums like a god. It’s a win-win situation.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves cumming inside of you. He’ll be thrusting in an out, groaning into your ear about how he’s gonna fill you up, before finally erupting inside you. He also likes cumming on your tits, so he can lean down and lap it up if he wants. He, of course, loves cumming on your ass. He’s pretty indifferent to your face - he’d only do it if you asked.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The idea of being pegged turns him on beyond belief. The thought of you, on your knees behind him as he’d been with you so many times, pushing into him in a way he’s never felt before … it was insane for him to imagine. You two haven’t gone that far - a finger, once, and you did find it curious how loud he moaned at it. Roger has been a bit too frightened to bring it up, so for now, fingers will have to do.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Roger’s been around the block many times. He’s extremely experienced.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Roger loves when you ride him. His hands on your waist, guiding you up and down. He loves when you get a bit tired, legs shaking, and then he’ll sit up, wrapping your legs around his waist, chest to chest, so he can slam his hips up into yours. He also loves taking you from behind. Roger will push your face down into the mattress, ass up, hands gripping your wrists together. When he fucks you from behind he loves cumming on your ass rather than inside of you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I feel like it’s a mix. It’s not unbearably intense, and he’ll crack jokes through gritted teeth, mostly at your expense. Jokes about how needy you are, how desperate he’s been to fuck you.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He trims but not much. He doesn’t care for grooming it much, but he’d do more if you asked.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

In the moment? It depends. Sometimes he’s purely going at it, snapping his hips against yours and groaning, but sometimes he’ll go slower, burying his face in your hair, kissing your face, murmuring into your ear.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

When he’s with you, he doesn’t feel the need, unless it’s a thing you two have going on in the moment. On the road, if you don’t come with him, he’ll get off every night. He’s so used to fucking you every night that it’s practically been ingrained into his brain.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I feel like he has four main kinks.

Hair pulling. This is a big one. Roger loves running his hands through your hair while you’re on your knees for him. Pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding your mouth on his dick. He thrives on when he tugs too hard and you whine around him. He also loves getting his own hair pulled, while he’s balls deep inside of you, your hands pulling on his hair like it’s all you know how to do.

Spanking - he loves it. Loves when you ride him and he brings his hand down over the globes of your ass. When he’s fucking you from behind and you’re begging him for more, and the mix of a moan and a sob you let out when he smacks your ass is enough to send him over the edge.

Voyeurism & exhibitionism. I refuse to argue on this. Roger likes watching you get yourself off, whether it be by stripping you and sitting you on the bed and having you make yourself cum before he touches you or walking in on you while you’re getting off, and just standing, watching. If he knows someone is watching the two of you go at it, he’ll go harder than before, no matter who it is - as the boys had learned on a few separate occasions.

Daddy kink. Another big one, and honestly one that (jokingly) goes beyond non sexual bounds. You’ll call him daddy as a joke in public, with an eye roll after he bosses you around, and later he’ll push you up against the wall, hissing into your ear that you can’t fucking tease me like that in public. When you call him daddy in bed, it’s enough to make him cum immediately.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere. Literally anywhere. The bedroom, the bathroom, his dressing room, on stage after the audience cleared out. He doesn’t give a shit.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you in his clothes absolutely does it for him. When you wear his shirts to concerts he has to prevent himself from taking you in the middle of the crowd. Also, when you touch him in public - grabbing his arm, throwing a leg over his, hugging him. Any touch from you turns him on immediately.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would hate actually hurting you during sex. Degrading you is somewhat included in that - he doesn’t do it unless you tell him to - and he never wants to seriously harm you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Truthfully? Roger prefers giving. No matter the position, when his face is in your pussy, he feels completely at bliss. He loves kneeling on the ground with you on some sort of surface, legs spread around him, his hands holding your thighs up. His favourite position to eat you out is you sitting on his face, though. Roger loves feeling completely engulfed in you. As for skill, he’s an absolute god. I’ve made a separate post about this, but with his experience and absolute love for eating you out? He’s the best you’d ever had.

But, like every other guy, Roger loves receiving. When you give him head he’ll pull your hair back into a ponytail, maintaining clear eye contact with you. Bucking and rolling his hips into your mouth, thriving on the noises you make around him. He loves cumming in your mouth after fucking it, especially if you swallow it.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Very 50/50. It absolutely depends on the situation. Quickies are always fast and rough, and when you have actual sex it’s generally slower. He loves both.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Roger fucking loves quickies, and he needs them, of course. When he’s at the studio and you tease him from the mixing room he’ll take you in the bathroom. When you’re at the bar or the club, he’ll fuck you in the back, in a dark booth. He doesn’t prefer quickies over proper sex but he doesn’t prefer proper sex either - he likes one better depending on his mood.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Roger will try anything once. He’s honestly down for anything.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can generally last 3-4 rounds, and he generally lasts a long enough time for you to cum at least twice before he has once.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’ll use toys on you, but - as per his dirty secret - he’s a bit nervous about asking to have them used on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Roger Taylor is a motherfucking tease. He’ll pull you into the bathroom, get on his knees and eat you until you’re on the verge of cumming before standing up, smoothing his clothes, and leaving with a kiss on your forehead. He’ll finger you on the couch in the mixing room while the boys record, a pillow loosely thrown over your lap to ‘hide it,’ and then push you aside when he’s called in without sparing you the slightest glance. When you tease him though? He’ll grab your wrist from its spot on his thigh, giving you a ‘no bullshit’ stare, silently daring you to do more.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s loud. He’ll moan and groan and cry out in your ear, hissing and grunting and making every noise in the goddamn world no matter where you are. When you make noise, whimpering and whining and sobbing into his ear, it turns him on and spurs him to drive faster into you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

When you came onto the set of I Want to Break Free, he fucked you in his Rogerina outfit. He ate you out and fingered you before fucking you up against the wall, and it remained one of your favourite sexual endeavors with him.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Brian didn’t call him the ‘biggest member’ for no reason.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s high. He’s a horny bitch. He’s always ready for you, no matter what. If, at any time, you turn to him and tell him you need to fuck him, he’s down and hard in an instant.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll clean you up and lie down with you, either talking for a little while or just sitting in silence. He doesn’t fall asleep immediately like an asshole - he generally makes sure you’re comfortable before trying to doze off.

#roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody

[bobowhooo]

Potent Savages

Genre: Shitty Smuttt!!/ Some daddy baek (yes, that’s a genre)/ Uhhh kinda sweet?/ Trigger warnings??

Exo, OC, and blackpink gang au!

Summary: When baekhyun finds out about aya’s seductive secret mission, baekhyun decides to teach her a few lessons the hard way.

A potent savages short!

      Liar, liar, you spark my desire.

Earlier Today

“Eugene Andrews. He’s a very dangerous mercenary with deep connections in the Kaja group, which is something like a mafia made up of the powerful businessmen around the city. Now that Choi Siwon isn’t running it anymore, he’s taken over. With that being said we need him on our side.” Suho spoke sternly while sitting at the head of the meeting table.

“Okay, all of that makes sense. Now, what does that have to do with me?” I asked in slight confusion. 

“Well, we need someone to get close to him. Someone who isn’t a threat and also knows how to get into someone’s head. I first thought that baekhyun fits that description pretty well. But, then I realized he could pose as a potential threat in Eugene’s eyes. That’s not what we want, it would have to be you. So, I was thinking you can work some of your charms on him, get him close. You know?”

I nodded with my eyebrows askew. “You want me to seduce him?”

“Yes.”

“I.....uhmmm.”

“Do you accept?” Suho pressed.

“I mean, sure, why not.”

“Great! This is going to be amazing, aya. I just know it.”

“Mhm, I just wonder how baekhyun is going to react.”

“He definitely won't like it. Which is why we can't tell him.”

I looked at him with a scrunched up face. “I'm not going to lie to him, suho.” The man chuckled as if the words meant nothing to him. “I'm serious. I won’t do it.”

“Aya, you can’t. Think about it. The last time I told you to do something like this you got kidnapped. I mean, that was different than this in a lot of ways, but he won’t think of it that way. He’s not going to let you go and we can’t have that because we need Eugene for our future endeavors.” Suho said in a passionate tone. We both know if I tell baekhyun, he will go to suho first. Suho is just trying to save his own ass at this point. But I can understand why. 

“Aya, just do me this favor. I’ll definitely owe you one.”

“Fineee. But you better do whatever I ask.” I said before punching his arm.

Later That Day 

My arms wrapped tightly around aya as we rocked side to side on the edge of the pool, only our feet emerged in the water. The warm air surrounded us in its own embrace and I gently kissed the top of her head in content. It’s been about a month and a few days since we rescued aya from Siwon. Let me tell you something, the saying you never know what you have until you lose it is so true. I was so miserable without her in my life. In my arms. Just near me in general. I felt like a piece of me died when I thought she was killed. But with all that being over, I don’t think I’ve ever been more happy and content. This was the biggest wake-up call of my life. 

“Baekhyun?” Aya called. I hummed in response before turning to look at her. “Do you think you would be okay if I did some work by myself tonight?” 

I went stiff for one second. “No, I wouldn’t be okay. Why? Are you sick of me hanging around you?” I asked teasingly. She gave a shy smile and giggled. “Well, too bad. I'm not letting you out of my sight. You should know that by now.”

“I understand why you feel that way, honey. But I'm going to have to get out on my own again sometime soon, anyway.” She said sweetly while looking at the pool. I looked around with a soft scoff sounding from my lips. “Why are you trying to run away from me? huh? I should throw you in this pool.” I joked even though I'm actually curious. She chuckled and nudged me in my stomach. 

“Seriously, baekhyun. It won’t be dangerous, I’ll go with all the girls. It’ll be chill.” She reasoned. 

“What is it that you will be doing?”

“Uhmm, conversing with a future client, you could say.”

“Who?”

“Just a guy.”

I felt a tinge of protectiveness and jealousy. I don’t want her around sketchy men anymore. Not without me. “What do you mean by just a guy?”  

“A guy that’s a potential client.” She said with a smile. “I'm not smiling.” I said back at her.  

“Don’t worry. Suho told me all about him. He’s harmless.”

Later On That Day

My hands pulled up my black silk gown as I slipped my body into it. I posed in the mirror to look at the open back of the dress, popping my knee out to see how high the slit goes up on me. It stopped somewhere close to the top of my right thigh. I look to die for and that’s exactly what I want. 

“Eh? Someone’s all dressed up.” Baekhyun said as he stepped out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel hanging around his waist. He took the other towel that was around his neck and began to dry his hair with it while staring at my reflection in the mirror. I turned around to face the mirror, looking back at him. “Why are you so dressed up just to meet some guy?” He asked.

“i-i just felt like it.” I answered him with a slightly nervous tone. Of course, I can’t tell him I'm dressing like this to seduce a guy tonight. The guilt of lying to him entered my stomach as I looked at his face. Baekhyun let the towel fall around his head and dropped his hands to adjust the towel on his waist. “As long as you’re doing it for yourself I'm fine with it.” He spoke while moving to the bed. plopping on the mattress with a small pout. I matched his pout before bending over a bit to play with my hair and pat the lipstick on my lips. My eyes caught baekhyun’s staring at the back of me, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“You should know better than to stare, baekhyun.” I teasingly grinned at him.

“Well, you know what it does to me when you wear silk.” He got up from the bed and snatched the towel off of his damp brown hair. “Hey, no, don’t give me that look.” I said with a chuckle. He stared me down with hungry eyes, wetting his lips with his tongue as he walked towards me slowly. “What’s this? Are you nervous?” He asked in a sexy low tone.

“Yo, baekhyun, I have somewhere to be and I can’t get caught u-” I tried to stop him with words before he grabbed me roughly. My body twirled around, my face hitting his bare chest. “Do you think I care about where you have to be? What’s so important about that guy anyway?” He pressed while walking forward and making me take steps back. The skin of my back that is exposed by my dress pushed up against the mirror and baekhyun’s hand did the same. I was trapped by my half-naked, jealous boyfriend all because of this stupid silk dress. “Don’t make me hunt that bastard down.” He spoke with a smile because he was teasing. He enjoyed the expression on my face at the moment so he’s pressing for more. He wants more. My gaze traveled down his soft neck to his lean torso.  I scoffed before putting my hands on his chest. “Baekhyun, as much as I would love for you to rip this dress off of me and fuck me on that balcony....” I got close to his ear before I finished. “I have to go.” I whispered, slipping away from him slowly. 

He grabbed my wrist and clicked his tongue before pressing his body up against mine, wrapping his arms around me. “I love it when you talk like that.” He smirked. I giggled, struggling to get out of his hold. “Nope! You can’t run away from me now. It's too late.” 

“Knock, knock.” Suho’s voice barged in as he crept inside our room. “Aya. it’s time to go.”

“What?” Baekhyun looked between me and suho. “You’re going with him but I can’t come?”

I laughed and patted his shoulder. “Well, I thought if he came you would more at ease.” Baekhyun slid my hand off his shoulder and kissed it. “So this is how bad you want to get away from me? Okay, I understand, love. Have fun tonight.” He spoke softly. It’s obvious he’s trying his best to be understanding which makes my stomach hurt with guilt even more than before.  “I love you, baekhyun. After tonight I don’t want to be apart from you, okay?” I said with a tilt of my head. He gave a pout and nodded. “I’ll see you later, then. Stay safe.” He whispered to me. I hummed in agreement before giving him a quick kiss and slipping out of his reach. 

“Ready?” Suho asked.

“Yeah, let’s hurry and get this over with.”

As Night Falls

Chanyeol drove us to our destination in a large black van that probably costs more than my Bugatti with ease. Suho is in the passenger seat setting up some equipment for our very important “mission” quietly. The only other person with us is jisoo, who will be something like my back up tonight. She’s driving a separate car here to act as a getaway, and if I need to act like I came here by myself it will come in handy. I'm hoping I won’t need her though. The fewer people inside the lounge, the better. Chanyeol parked a few feet away from the place, he turned around and gave me a thumbs up before tapping suho on the shoulder. Suho was fiddling with wires absent mindedly and got startled by the sudden touch. 

“Oh! right....here, put this on.” Suho said as he reached out to hand me a small earpiece. “We’ll use this to communicate and listen in. We already have access to all the cameras in the lounge so don’t be worried because we’re watching you.”

“Who do you think I am? Why the hell would I be worried?” I said with a confident smirk. “Nothing scares me anymore!” I yelled into the earpiece and suho winced as he held his ear. 

“Get out.” Suho said in a dismissive tone. I looked at a smiling chanyeol before pulling the van door open and hopping out. I have to admit, I feel great right now despite lying just to get here. Something about taking on this “mission” by myself is exciting. I mean, the last time I did something like this I got kidnapped and thrown into a concrete hell but this time, ohoho this time! I'm going to avenge myself! “Let’s fucking get it!” I yelled as I closed the door and smiled at the grunts of pain suho made. I walked fast across the street in my expensive high heels. I looked at myself in the glass as I walked up to the door. As always I looked like a damn snack. 

“I'm inside. Tell me what you see.” I spoke as quiet and discreet as possible while talking to the people on the other side of my earpiece. 

“Everything is looking normal. We can see you clearly, no sign of Eugene though. He might be in some VIP room or something, which is to be expected.” Suho said.

“Hey....you couldn’t get me a VIP room? I don’t want to mix in with all these weirdos.”

“Boo fucking hoo.” Chanyeol said before laughing loudly into the mic. I winced then rolled my eyes. Fucking buttholes. I swayed around the room until I came to the bar. I slid my silk-clad ass into the luxurious red bar stool. I ran a hand through my hair and waved for the bartender. “martini.” I spoke quietly, despite the vibey jazz music playing pretty loudly. He nodded and began my order. I pursed my lips, kind of surprised he heard me so well. “The target is entering, over.” Chanyeol said as if it was a walkie talkie. 

“Wait, he wasn’t here this whole time?” I asked discreetly.

“It appears so.” Suho sang into my ear. I bit my lip and looked around to see if I could spot the target. “It’s go time, aya.”

“No shit, sherlock.” I sipped slowly on my martini as I looked around. “Is that him, over there, with the small gold chain and shades at night. Only violent guys do that.” I said while holding my glass to my lips.

“Yup, that’s his crazy ass.” Chanyeol chuckled.

Eugene’s head turned for a second and I quickly looked the other way. I hope he didn’t catch me at that time. “He’s entering a VIP area. I repeat, it’s an area, not a room and it doesn’t have curtains. He must be trying to observe his surroundings.” Suho said.

“Or observe the wide range of sexy ass classy ladies around here, look at that girl, hyung!” Chanyeol yelled into the mic. I heard a faint sound of hitting before chanyeol started making noise in my ear out of pain. 

“Aish! Stop zooming in on aya, you dog.” Suho scolded the guy. 

“Okay, okay! I was just kidding around. I should fucking hit you back.” He barked back. 

“Both of you, shut the hell up, will you?” I whisper yelled with my hand on my ear. I looked towards the VIP area eugene is lounging in swiftly. I made sure he didn’t catch me look before I locked my gaze on something else. He pretty good looking, he’s no baekhyun, but he’s good looking. Right off the bat, he seems like the type of person that will only talk to someone that piques his interest. I have to make sure I catch his eye because I might not even get a hi out of him if I don’t. I downed the rest of my martini and slammed it down on the bar counter.

Watch out, Eugene. I'm coming for you.

Meanwhile

I twisted in my silk covers over and over again, worried about my baby and how she’s holding up right now. I fumbled around throwing a small fit before sitting up. My hands ruffled up my already fluffy hair. “Where the hell are you...” I said to myself. I want to go to sleep but I can’t stop thinking about her. Should I go out by myself? Should I play just like her? I pouted thinking about how she was so adamant on not letting me come with her. Not only is she out meeting some sketchy guy but she’s wearing that sexy black silk dress I only saw her wear once, Which is a good thing because I probably was going to rip it this time around. But, so, I could have just brought her a new one. 

“Snap out of it,baekhyun. She’ll be fine without you.” I spoke to myself while slapping my cheeks. I reached for my phone and clicked the call button on chanyeol’s contact. I refuse to be bored and worried tonight. 

“H-hello?” Chanyeol answered reluctantly. 

“Chanyeolll!” I whined into the phone. “Should we go get drinks?”

“Uhhh, i-im actually really busy right now, and i can’t.” Chanyeol stuttered back at me, raising my suspicion.

“What? Where are you? And why the fuck are you stuttering?” I spoke with my pout still on my face. 

“I’m sitting in the car.....”

“Sitting in the car where, idiot?” 

“Uhhhh....” Chanyeol just stalled in a nervous voice which was pushing my patience past its limit.

“Chanyeol! If you stall one more time i will jump through this phone and drive a pencil through your head, you bastard!” I yelled into my phone in frustration. He sounds like such an idiot stalling sentences like that. “Ahhh! Okay! Shit! I’m out with suho and aya!” He yelled back at me this time. I knew he could never lie to me. “YAH! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THERE!?” My anger was boiling up my whole body. What does she have the whole squad invited to her stupid appointment? Why did she insist on leaving me out like this! “Where the hell are you, huh!?” I hopped out of my bed in a rush before falling face first on the floor. I heard chanyeol asking what happened and grabbed my phone. “Tell me where you are and what you’re doing. And don’t even try to lie.” My voice was intimidating and my eyes squinted all on instinct. That little punk, making me worry so much even though she probably has half of exo with her.

“Okay, goddamnit! We’re out watching her seduce Eugene Andrews! It was suho’s idea!” I heard chanyeol get smacked harshly before yelling some more. “Yah! You know I can't lie to you! Why are you putting me in this position!?”

“SHE’S DOING WHAT WITH WHO!?”

As Baekhyun Get’s Ready To Bust A Cap In Someone’s Ass

“Well, how could I not talk to you after you gave me that look?” Eugene said with somewhat sparkling eyes.

“And what look is that?” my eyes on him, unwavering, as I sipped on my second martini. 

“You look too cunning to play dumb.”

“I know that, but it’s much more fun to do so.” He stared at me before chuckling with a sly grin. He’s that greasy type of handsome the girls in the gangster movies would go for. Not my type but I can see him dominating the minds of many helpless women. The man downed the rest of his drink and ran a hand through his grease styled hair. I grinned as I watched him to make it seem as if I'm intrigued by every move he makes. He caught my face and smirked. 

“Don’t stare too hard, sweetheart. You might burn holes.”

I almost scoffed at his cockiness but held it in. The point is to boost his confidence right now anyways. Even though, I wonder how much more confident can he possibly get? “What would you do if I said I can’t help but burn holes?” I downed the rest of my drink while keeping eye contact.  He gulped along with me and then nodded his head. “Well, it’s not a crime.” the words flowed out of his mouth clearly. He’s not where I want him right now, but I'm on the right track, that’s for sure. I stared at him deeply, silently urging a conversation out of him. Come on, tell me something important.

“Have you ever killed someone with an ice pick?....” He spoke nonchalantly. 

I tilted my left eyebrow upwards with interest. Now, this is something I want to hear about. “No, never.”

“Abe Reles. A very important murder inc. gunman, and an ice pick prodigy. Let’s just say his skills were never forgotten and my grandfather taught me how to do it after learning how to do it from his grandfather.”

“Was his grandfather in murder inc or something?”

“That’s a secret.” He whispered in my ear after leaning into me. For a second I froze. Did he just make me nervous? Could it be that he was just threatening me? Or was he simply just telling me something interesting about himself? 

I cleared my throat feeling a bit impressed at how he took control of the conversation and my emotions so quickly. “You’re definitely going to have to teach me how to do it one day.” I said. I put my hand on his shoulder with my eyes piercing into his. “But you know, while we’re on the topic, I might be able to teach you how to swing a bat like Frank Abbandando.” 

“Ahhh, so I'm not the only one deeply interested in the members of murder incorporated.” He smirked and backed away from me to eye me up and down.

“Of course not. Who wouldn’t be interested in those cold-blooded killers?” I chuckled slightly and turned to pour champagne in my martini glass. 

“True. In all honesty I kind of look up to them. I try to do things just like them. Living by their rules and all their tactics. It’s what helps me run the Kaja group so well. You know what the Kaja group is right?” He asked genuinely.

Finally, things are starting to get deep. “Yes, of course.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be as plugged in as you seem if you didn’t. Anyways, I'm sort of running it now. It’s much more difficult than I thought but enforcing the rules and regulations of the men who basically started it all, things seem much easier.” He spoke while staring deeply at nothing.

What is this? A slight obsession maybe? Can I look at this as a weakness? “I know what you’re thinking. Yes, you can.” Suho said quietly in my ear. I smirked. This mission is already a success. “Well, since we’re being honest right now, I am surprised no one from your group tried to kill me yet.” 

“And why is that?” He asked.

“Because. I played a big part in the burning of siwon’s body.” 

“Well, no one liked him anyway. If anything you did us a favor. I will personally thank you for that. You’re good at what you do.” I smiled at his compliment and raised my glass. “A toast, to a dead siwon and a job well done.” I said before he tapped his champagne against mine. “I must admit, the stories I hear about you never seize to surprise and intrigue me. It’s actually pretty nice to meet the infamous aya of blackpink.”

“What stories are you referring to?”

“Archie Langston. The British boss of racketeering. A murder that put your name in everyone’s mouth. You slit his throat in front of all his underlings and beat the rest of people there into submission with the rest of your gang at a warehouse filled with contraband and cash. 20 people were there. 10 deaths occurred. 10 were severely injured. And 4 killers got away smoothly with the perfect leadership of their gorgeous fifth member aya. I'm sure you enjoyed all that cash.” He spoke in a low tone his eyes seductive. Mesmerized by his own words as he painted a scarily powerful picture of me in his mind, his left hand loosened his tie. 

“Yes, I did actually.” I said with a small smile. That was the first time we ever did anything like that. We were so happy we made it out alive that the money was an afterthought. 

“You probably look amazing when you do things like that.”

“Well, we’ll have to see if you think that when you witness it first hand.” I leaned forward so I could whisper my words slowly in his ear. I used the things he did earlier to return the confusing feelings he gave me. “Getting this close to me is dangerous, you know?” He whispered back. 

“And why is that?” I asked.

“Because it might cause a fatality.” I heard a familiar voice barge in. 

I whipped my head towards the person and gasp. “Baekhyun!?”

“Baekhyun?”  Suho yelled in surprise. 

“Ahh, whaaat!?” Chanyeol yelled, sounding faker than fake. How much do you want to bet he knew baekhyun was coming? I heard chanyeol wince in pain after a slapping noise went off in the earpiece. 

Baekhyun pulled my arm upwards to bring me over to him. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing aya?” He asked with a vicious tone. I looked up at him with a nervous expression. “Aha....long story?” A nervous chuckle came out of my mouth without trying. “I have time.” He cocked an eyebrow at me with dangerous eyes. His skin looked so fresh and his hair was done up in a sly and sleek style. A stylish dress shirt adorned his upper body, the top buttons completely undone. The pleasant smell of his cologne filled my nose and all of a sudden it was hard for me to focus on anything else. He looks so delicious right now...

“Hey, answer me, little girl.” His voice stayed low and my arm was still being held tightly in his grip. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but is there a problem?” Eugene asked. 

“Well, I'm her-”

“My friend!” I yelled on top of his words. He looked at me with scary eyes making me cower completely. “He’s my boyfriend....”

Eugene laughed and looked at baekhyun up and down. “You know, I hear a lot of things about you, aya, do you really think I don’t know you’re dating the very well known byun baekhyun. I didn’t mean it that way. I was asking if there’s a problem with me flirting with your girlfriend, byun baekhyun?” My eyes widened at his words.

I felt baekhyun take a step forward and pushed my hands on his chest to keep him back. “Well, this is just a simple misunderstanding. I think we should all take a deep breath before continuing this conversation.” 

“Or I could show him just how much of a problem it is.” Baekhyun said. “I'm sure you have heard about me, so don’t think I will hesitate to beat your ass.” I laughed loudly to break the tension and then cleared my throat. “Wrap it up, aya, a fight between them could jeopardize everything we accomplished tonight.” Suho said with frustration in my ear. “It was really nice to meet you, eugene. I hope that we can form a beautiful friendship in the future.” I smiled politely while pushing baekhyun backward. His eyes were locked on eugene and euegene’s were on me. 

I pushed baekhyun all the way out of the lounge as he did nothing but stare at eugene. “Baekhyun? Baekhyun? Baekhyun, I can explain.” I said in a slight panic.

“You lied to me, all night.”

“Yes, but-”

“Just to come flirt with eugene andrews. He’s probably even worse than siwon was. And here you come running to this mission like your life depends on it. Did you want to be away from me this bad? You had to lie to me?”

“Baekhyun, I was just doing it because I thought I could get the job done better than anyone.”

“Oh, you’re fucking correct on that one, aya. If I didn’t know any better I would think you were actually going to fuck him, you know, for the mission.”

“Hey!”

“What!? Did I offend you!? Just how the hell do you think I felt when I found out you persistently lied to me and I pull up on you just to see some guy seconds away from eating your face!?”

“Don’t you think you’re being too much right now!?”

“I don’t think I'm being enough! Maybe I didn’t make myself clear enough when I told you that I'm trying to keep you safe!”

“You did!”

“Then, why are you here!? Why did you want to ignore everything I’ve been saying so badly tonight?”

I looked at him with sad eyes. I don’t have an answer in me. I guess if I'm being honest with myself I just wanted to get back out and do something risky. It’s what I live for. But I wasn’t thinking of anyone else’s feelings except mine. “I’m sorry, aya.” Chanyeol said. “No, this was all my idea. I’m sorry.” Suho pushed his apology with a sad sigh. I stared at the ground, biting my lip with mixed feelings.

“Just get your little ass in that car. Hopefully this time you’ll actually listen to me.” Baekhyun said with his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. His gaze locked on my head, which is facing towards the ground. “Don’t make me repeat myself, aya. My patience is very thin at the moment.”

I looked up quickly and he pointed in the direction of his Veyron. I nodded and walked over nervously. I could faintly hear him scoff before he followed behind me. “Do you even know how hard it is to be mad at you while your ass looks that good in your silk dress?” He spoke low sounding as if he was trying to keep his words to himself. I pouted and pulled open the car door the moment he unlocked it. “Make sure to put a seatbelt on. Oh wait, maybe you want to just ignore me and put your life in danger, nevermind, forget I said anything.” He said while getting in the driver's seat. I scoffed, rolling my eyes. He’s so damn annoying. I get it! I fucked up! Why does he have to act this way!? 

“Could you stop?” I said.

“Sure. I won't punish you with words anymore tonight.” He said with serious eyes.

“Thank you.” 

“I'm just going to put you on your hands and knees to make sure you remember not to do anything like this ever again.”

“M-my hands and knees?”

“I won’t let you off easy tonight. I think you need to feel just how upset I am with you. Maybe this time you’ll learn your lesson.”

My heart rate sped up as if I had been running for a while. I don’t think I'm ready for this.

“Ewwww! Turn the damn earpiece off, you fuckshits!” Suho yelled in my ear while chanyeol made dramatic gagging sounds in the background. I took it out and rolled down my window before throwing the small piece of technology out of it. 

Back At The Exo Mansion

I entered baekhyun’s room first and he came in second. The silence between us becoming more prominent. “You seem nervous. Don’t be. As much as I want to be rough with you, I won’t be too harsh. You’re still my little baby doll after all.” 

I turned around to look at him. My face turning gentle automatically after hearing those words. Really, the reason I'm acting this way is from the fact that I fucked up really badly today. I didn’t want to upset him like that. I'm normally the type of girl to love a bit of a rough lover. But right now, I just feel bad for what I did. I don’t think I can even look at him in his eyes. 

“Take the dress off, gorgeous.” He said lowly as he stood at the closed door with his hands in his pockets again. “Ah, ah, ah. Slowly. Do it right or I’ll have to do it myself.”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, sir.” He corrected.

“Yes, sir.” I took the dress off at the pace he requested. The silk was somewhat arousing as it slid on my skin in such a slow manner. So smooth. It makes me bite my lip. I looked up at him with my cheeks starting to heat up after remembering my choice to go braless tonight. He smirked and nodded his head, telling me to continue. I let the dress slip passed my stomach and move down my ass. My hands pushed it down my thighs and knees, and let it fall the rest of the way by itself. “Good. Get on the bed, honey. Daddy will come to you in a minute.” His voice was so soft and sexy i almost moaned without him even touching me. I watched him go into the closet, every step he took looking all too slow and sensual. He came out with his upper body bare and a remote-controlled vibrator in his right hand as his left hand ran through his hair. I remember that thing. It has its own damn aura. A dirty dark lewd aura. I don’t hate it though.

“On your hands and knees. Panties off.” He spoke while walking towards me.

I did just as he said. Hesitation didn't seem like an option tonight. “Good girl. Be still now, I'm going to put it inside.” 

I gasped softly when I felt the small vibrator push its way inside of my hole. “Perfect. Stay like that.” He took some steps backward. I closed my eyes when the vibrator turned on. My hands dug into the silk sheets of baekhyun’s king bed. “Now, is there anything you want to say to me, darling?” Baekhyun asked sweetly. I just moaned with my ass swaying in the air. “No, that’s unfortunately not the correct answer.” He said. The intensity was turned up and instead of my eyes being closed they shot open quickly. “Try again, gorgeous.” I moaned louder with the vibrator shaking up my insides. “Baekhyun...” I moaned softly. “Incorrect again, baby.” He shook his head before turning up the intensity again. “Fuck!” I cursed into the air. My toes started to curl and my hands did the same, taking a fist full of the silk sheets with them. “You look to die for.” He whispered. I moaned louder while digging my face in the mattress. “Fuck, baekhyun.” I moaned. Baekhyun chuckled in a soft manner. “Did you just curse at me?” He asked teasingly. Before I could answer he upped the intensity once more. I'm going to cum at this rate. There's no way I can take any more of this without cumming. 

“I’m going t-”

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” He interrupted in no time. I shut my eyes and my legs started to shake at the feeling of holding back such an intense orgasm. The position I was in began to falter before I felt him turn it up to the highest intensity. “Don’t move. You stay in that position until I tell you it’s time to move.” His voice was raspy from being turned on and his stance never wavered while he stood on the left side of the bed, watching me. “If you apologize correctly, I might let you have the release you’re craving so desperately.” 

“I’m sorry for what I did, b-baekhyun. I’m really sorry!” I huffed out. I shook my ass a bit, showing how much I need to finish. 

“Hmmm, good enough. Go ahead, love. Let it go.” He said with the tiniest bit of reluctance. My eyes rolled upwards and shut tightly. I moaned out loudly as the wonderful feeling of an orgasm rushed through my body like a wave. My hands pulled on the sheets harshly and the left side of my face pushed down into the bed. My legs shook before I fell from my position. Jolts of pleasure came and went, making my body jump out of nowhere. Baekhyun’s right hand slid up my thigh, his other dipping into the bed right above my head along with the rest of his body. Softly, sweetly, he caressed it, kissing my cheek in the process. “Consider yourself forgiven, darling. I’m taking it extremely easy on you tonight. I think you know that. But if this happens again, you can trust.....” He whispered in my ear  His hand grabbed my throat suddenly and I gasped. “I won’t be so easygoing.” 

He grabbed my arm with his other hand that was above my head. I was flipped onto my back with one pull. His hold still strong but gentle on my neck. It got me biting my lip in pure pleasure. I’ve always loved baekhyun’s long slender fingers around my neck. He has a way with his hands that I can’t explain, but all I know is they feel like they were made to please. It’s amazing. He took his hand off of my neck and I gasped again but this time to take in air. I watched him unbuckle his belt and pull it out of its place right above his hips. He flashed me a quick smile before throwing it somewhere unknown to me. I sat up as he grabbed my chin and pulled it towards him. I looked at him before putting my right hand on his bulge. 

“Ask nicely for it.”  Baekhyun whispered again.

“Please, fuck me, baekhyun.” I asked meekly. He bit his lip and grabbed my hand that was on his clothed dick. He pushed me back down as he kissed me with rough bites on my bottom lip. Baekhyun held my arm over my head, pinning it down like the rest of my body. I pushed his pants and boxers down with my free hand, trying to keep up with the pace of his kisses. My leg lifted up to do the rest of the work. “Did I tell you to do that?” He spoke into my ear. I froze up.“N-no, si-” Before I could finish my sentence he pushed his dick inside of me while holding my arms down. “Fuck!” I moaned, my back lifting off the bed. His hips moved at a fast pace right from the start. He wasn’t easing into it like usual. “Baekhyun, wait.” I said while grabbing onto his back. He chuckled as he sped up. Longevity is not the word for tonight. We both know this pace will make this end quick. I squirmed under his hold, his name slipping off my lips loudly at every stroke. He looked at me with dark eyes. “Next time, you won’t lie. Next time, you will tell daddy the truth, right?” I nodded in response, moans replacing all my words. My neck was grabbed without notice, sending surprise pleasure through my body. “Say it. Say you won’t do it again.” He stroked deeper and faster as he choked me. I put my hand over the one on my neck and licked my lips, silently asking to lighten the grip. 

“I-i won’t do it again, e-ever.” I murmured. 

“Good girl.” He let go of my neck to move his hands to my legs. He put them over his shoulders and placed his fists right next to my head. I grabbed hold of his forearms as he drilled into me. I yelled his name relentlessly as he continued to thrust his cock, pounding me faster and faster. My nails dug into his arms, yelling his name. “Are you going to cum, babydoll?” He asked sweetly. I nodded again while biting the shit out of my lip. “Good girl. Don’t hold back.” He continued with that sweet. My body started to feel hotter while I came close to my peak. This is the main event. “Baekhyun!” I shut my eyes tight, holding onto his forearms for my dear life. The release that’s been building since I first saw baekhyun walk into that lounge tonight. “Yes, Fuck yes!” I yelled as my body shook in pleasure. I caught a glimpse of baekhyun’s face. He was obviously trying not to cum before me which somehow made my orgasm even harder. 

“Do you think you’re finished?”

“H-huh?” I responded in a daze. 

“We’re not going to be finished until you beg me to stop. Actually...” He stroked long and deep and intertwined his fingers in mine. “I don’t think we’ll be finished then either.”

“Baekhyunnn!” I whined.

“Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy every moment, babydoll. Just take it like a good girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~ THE END.

#Potent savages short #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun smut #baekhyun smutty #baekhyun gang au! #baekhyun gang au #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo gang au #exo gang au!

[artificialqueens]

You won a seven nights stay in Paris (Brooke x Vanessa) - Evelyn Bubbles

Howdy y’all it’s me your girl Evelyn, resurfacing of course when another season starts. As always I gotta come up with some ship, so here’s my BrookexVanessa, I have no idea how to call it though. Branjielina? Probably. This is based in canon, I’m gonna use female pronouns and drag names so there’s no confusion. Enjoy! You remember Vanjie being over excited about Brooke Lynn winning the Paris vacation? Well, they went together. And things got complicated.

The problem with winning something it’s always hoping to collect the prize alone, in peace. Especially if that particular prize is really huge. After her best friend had told her he couldn’t come since it was his wedding anniversary, Brooke Lynn Hytes, 32, carefully texted the season eleven groupchat. She wanted to have fun, but also see the monuments, museums, landmarks. Come on, it was Paris after all. Paris. One of her favorite cities. She had been there in the past with her ballet company, but she hadn’t had the time to really see that beautiful place. She was hoping for someone interesting, curious, cheerful, to answer her desperate “Hey, anyone wanna go to Paris?”. Of course Silky was the first one to answer: “Mama’s too booked, sis”. Then a couple of others. A’keria was getting ready for what probably was one of her last pageants. Nina was about to host a new charity event. Plastique probably couldn’t even read. Brooke Lynn was about to turn off the phone and go to Paris all alone, when Vanessa texted her privately.

-Saw the episode? Remember that I was the one who wanted to come with u! -I remember love xx -Then it’s settled. Fully cancelling all my gigs. When is it -After my bday -Like I know when that is, girl -March 10th lol -Cool love that. We’ll get those French cookies sis -I’ll send you the details right now then :) -Can’t wait!!

And then, a profusion of kisses emojis and many many red hearts. Brooke couldn’t believe she had just accepted to go on a 8 days trip in Paris with notoriously batshit crazy Vanessa Vanjie Mateo. She was fun to have around, for sure, and she was also one of her closest friends after the competition, but they’d never travelled together. Although skeptical at first, Brooke smiled. It could’ve been fun.

////

This is gonna be a big mess, Brooke thought as soon as Vanessa started running towards her at the JFK airport, New York City. She practically jumped at her neck, showering her with affection. “So nice to see you again girl! I’ve missed your face! You look amazing, these first weeks of fame have done a body good”, she said, tapping on her arm. “Thank you Vanjie. You look fantastic as well”, commented Brooke smiling wide. She loved Vanessa dearly, but she was dragging along what seemed like an entire wardrobe packed into one giant, plus a handbag and a sparkly backpack. Brooke felt all the eyes on them as Vanessa started chatting loudly, catching the attention of a group of girls who eyed them and pointed at them giggling. They’re fans of the show, maybe, Brooke guessed, or maybe they’re just laughing at a loud obnoxious gay couple at the airport ready for their honeymoon. Except for the fact that Vanessa and her weren’t a couple, nor on their honeymoon: they were sharing a price won at a transvestism competition. The usual.

////

On the plane, everything went… not as planned. Vanessa didn’t say a word for the whole flight, pleasantly surprising Brooke who was expecting eight hours of non-stop blabbing. Instead, Vanessa fell asleep right away, AirPods in, head propped on a tiny pillow and her soft lips semi-open. Brooke couldn’t help but smile, adjusting herself on the seat and turning on her classical music playlist that she used to listen before bed. The last thing she remembered was the Carmen overture playing, and Vanessa’s sleepy face turning gently towards her. She woke up when the plane landed pretty roughly, shaking both of them in their seats. Vanessa was candidly sleeping with her head resting on Brooke’s shoulder, nuzzled into her neck. “What the fuck was that…!”, Vanessa said, suddenly nervous, that surely want the best wake up call, “A turbulence?”. “You… own… everything…!”, Brooke joked, and Vanessa punched her on the shoulder, “You’re so stupid girl! No but seriously, have we landed like… that was quick!”. “Only because you slept all the way through”. “I needed some rest okay? Making coins every night is hard as shit you know that!”. “I do Vanjielina, I do. Let’s grab our stuff and get the fuck outta here, my legs hurt”.

////

“What do y’all mean with ‘My suitcase is still in America?!”. “Yeah, so sorry Mr. Cancel… apparently your suitcase wasn’t embarked… they’ll be delivered to your hotel as soon as possible, unfortunately that won’t be possible until… let me check… four days from now, we’re going through a strike, again, and we won’t have incoming flights for a bit”. “What will I do then? I have no clothes, no shoes, no nothing!”, Vanessa groaned in stress. “Listen, I know this situation sucks, but I’ll be more than happy to lend you my clothes. Also, don’t you have your toothbrush and stuff in your handbag and backpack? You’re gonna survive just fine. And don’t you wanna go do some shopping? We could find some really cute stuff for you to wear these days”. Vanessa looked at Brooke with puppy dog eyes. “Thank you sis… I really need some positivity right now or I’ll have a nervous breakdown”. “It’s nothing Vanjielina. Now let’s give them the b&b address and we can get the fuck outta here. We’re in Paris and I haven’t seen the city yet!”. “You’re right”, said Vanessa smiling as usual, “I’m tired of this shit. Let’s go”.

////

The bus from Orly to their b&b in the luxurious XVI arrondisement took forever, but as soon as they arrived they were blown away. The classical Parisian house, just behind the Trocadero, with its characteristical blue roof, round windows and narrow appearance was stunning in the daylight, and its white curtains masked the surely elegant interior from unwanted stares. “On here it says that the owner is a certain Mathieu Pepin…”, Brooke said consulting her receipt on her mail app. “Let’s wake up this motherfucker”. “Wait, Vanjie…”. Too late, Vanessa was already torturing the intercom: “Hello, hi? Someone there? We’re here!”. “Vanessa!”. “What? I wanna go explore!”. “Yeah, but we shouldn’t…”. “Oh my God! I can’t believe it!”. Brooke and Vanessa turnt around, only to face an overenthusiastic blonde guy with curly hair and a light beard all over his chin and jawline. “Miss Vanjie and Brooke Lynn Hytes, in my apartment…! This is a dream come true”. “Oh, hi, I’m Brock, nice to meet you, but you can obviously call me Brooke as you know us from the show”. “Of course I know you two! I’m so happy to have you here, I’d guide you inside personally but I have quite a few things to do. It’s not hard though, the last floor is all yours. Here’s your set of keys. This opens the main door, while this opens the apartment… oh, I’m Mathieu by the way… here’s your WiFi password…”. Brooke giggled, this Mathieu guy seemed kinda all over the place but he owned a flat in one of the most expensive Parisian neighborhoods, he must’ve been someone important. Or at least very rich. “So sorry I have to leave you this soon. Does any of you speak French?”. Vanessa shook her head, while Brooke said: “Kinda… the basics. The very basics. Toronto is not a French speaking area. I studied it in school but…”. “Oh, don’t worry! You’ll survive just fine with just English around here. Have a great staying! Can I be a little indiscreet?”, Mathieu said winking, “I’m so happy the rumors are true! Have fun you lovebirds!”. Then he kissed both of them on the cheeks and rushed away, chatting loudly on the phone in perfect Spanish. “The rumors? Which rumors?”. “I ain’t got no idea girl… let’s get inside this fucker”, Vanessa shrugged, grabbing Brooke’s backpack and bringing it inside. Fortunately, they managed to get inside that tiny elevator, squished and uncomfortable but still, the doors closed. “Looking at it positively, if we still had your suitcase we would’ve had to run this thing twice”, Brooked said jokingly, to cheer Vanessa up. It worked, and she smiled back. They arrived at the apartment, the only one on the last floor. “Oh wow, it’s really fucking big!”, Vanessa exclaimed stealing the keys from Brooke’s hands. “Do you say that very often Vanjie?”. Vanessa gave her the middle finger: “Shut up you whore… and carry your shit inside”. Brooke laughed, following her friend into that beautiful apartment. Light entered the open space softly, waving over the modern furniture, the wooden floor, the white curtains. “This place is stunning! C’mon drag race sponsorship! Okay I gotta explore”, said Vanjie dropping her stuff on the floor and running into the various rooms. “This bathroom is huge!”. “Oh my God look at this kitchen!”. Brooke left her suitcase as well, dropping her bag on one of the huge sofas. “Bitch… you should really come and see this”, Vanessa called her from the last room. It must’ve been the bedroom. Brooke started fantasizing on how beautiful and big their beds must’ve been. Vanessa was blankly staring at one, huge ass bed. A single king sized mattress. “Now I see why that bitch told us he was happy the rumors are true”, said Brooke. They looked at each other in the eyes. “Yeah sis”, Vanessa told her, “They think we’re banging”.

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #branjie #pining #smut #evelyn bubbles #ywa7nsip #canon compliant #s11 #submission

[crewhonk]

being in a relationship with Steve Rogers would include

He loves Hamilton

He frequently can be found crying to “it’s quiet uptown”

And screaming “motherfucking democratic republicans” at the top of his lungs

Which you reply with a chiding “language, cap”

“oH My GoD”

Steve remembers everything about you

From your fighting patterns to the way you tie the tea bag string around the mug handle so it doesn’t get lost in the boiling honey-water

He has a picture of fetus you in your teenage goth phase taped to his mirror in the bathroom because no matter how hard life is at the moment, that was a thing that existed once

He always stops you from going back for seconds, not because he thinks you eat too much or don’t need the food, he just gets so annoyed when you complain about your stomach hurting for hours after

You guys always brush your teeth together

And when one of you is on a mission, FRIDAY has to remind you both to brush your teeth because its just something you guys do together

He hates showering with you

The temperature you shower makes him break out into a heat rash, and even though he hates being cold, he doesn’t hate it that much

But he will always join you ten minutes into your bath

He always makes your coffee for you before you wake up, or he buys it with extra milk because you’re afraid of burning your mouth

His favorite music is 70s rock, and when you helped him download the I, Tonya soundtrack he listened to it on repeat for weeks

He listened to it so often that you had to hide his phone for a day

He didn’t even notice because when he wasn’t listening to it, he was singing it

and if you were to be quite frank, Steve was borderline tone-deaf

Singing together in the car or during karaoke or just at a bar was almost your number one favorite thing to do with him

Your other favorite thing to do with him was explaining internet language

“I can’t believe I’ve been sleeping on Shawn Mendes.”

“What the fuck”

“Language”

“That was two years ago!!”

The first time he watches Rocky Horror Picture Show he is genuinely horrified and refuses to let you pick the next movie for three months

The next movie you pick is The Breakfast Club

And no matter how much you try to watch it with him

He always falls asleep

“What’s the point of it? Like there’s no music and it’s just a bunch of teenagers in detention it’s boring. Do they even have breakfast?”

“No”

“thAn wHaTs tHe PoInt?!”

And he doesn’t let you choose another movie again ever

However, he happens to be sitting next to you while you’re watching pitch perfect

And he steals a headphone and watches it on your laptop w u

And he fucking loves it. He loves Bella and he loves the magic dude that he can’t remember the name of

You guys fight a lot about what’s good for the team

I'm talking in front of the team screaming at each other, throwing things etc

And you guys won’t talk for a while (hours-days)

But when one walks in on the other person sitting on the edge of the bed crying their heart breaks

So they cuddle the other and it leads to slow soft passionate makeup sex that eventually turns into headboard-breaking sex

“JESUS C H R I S T IS THAT YOUR GUYS’ SOLUTION TO E V E R Y T H I N G”

But they’ll take that over the icy glares and hyper-aggressive sparring

And when Steve is pissed his training is the worst™️

You also introduce him to your favorite sport

And it takes a while for him to learn what everything means but once he’s into it he is into it

And he chooses the rival team of your team to root for

You make bets whenever they play against each other

You both end up getting what you want by the end of the night if you know what I mean haha amirite ladies

Except the loser has to wear the winner's jersey while you guys are diddling.

When u ride him with his team's jersey on he loses his mind

Him being afraid to have sex with you three months into the relationship despite your indestructibility and healing abilities

You think it because of how you look physically, and when you finally confront him about it, he looks like he’s about to cry

“I don’t want to break you”

“you couldn’t break me even if you tried, cap.”

the first time you two do it, its slow and clumsy and you don’t cum

But the longer you guys practice, the more confident he gets

So when he rips off your pantsuit after one of Tony’s parties and fucks you against the wall from behind the orgasm that tears through you makes you see stars

You get beard burn on your shoulder because of the amounts of hickeys and bite marks he left on your back

Since Steve hadn’t had much power before the serum, he wears the pants

You take them off, though

You often get notifications from FRIDAY telling you that Tony told her to tell you to stop fucking like catholic bunnies

He loves biting, and slapping and fucking you into the mattress

He's a wild guy in the bedroom

Out of the bedroom, you’re the little minx

Calling him captain when you ask for the syrup at breakfast

Raking your hand through his hair when you’re cuddling

Working out in baggy shorts and an expensive sports bra

Winking at him during sparring,

The light catching the sweat on your stomach and chest, begging for him to look

Whenever he does he gets his ass kicked because he’s so distracted he stops fighting

Singing and rapping to provocative songs in the car

He's shocked by the things you sing along to, and one time he almost came in his pants when you sang “dead girl walking” from the Heathers musical during Karaoke Night

He really likes to choose songs from the Spotify playlist “songs that make white people beyond hype”

He loves Don’t Stop Believing

You hate it so much because it reminds you of shitty high school dances

You disclose to him your fears about you peaking in high school because while you are studying for a degree, making friends in real life is fucking hard

And between saving the world and studying you have no time for clubs or anything of the sort

So you feel a little stagnant

He looks at you like you’ve grown three heads

“Doll, you do know you save the world on a regular basis?”

“I mean, yeah I guess.”

He slaps you on the arm lightly and then kisses your forehead

The first time he farted around you-you laughed so hard that you farted and you were sore the next few days from laughing so hard at the center situation

He gets the hiccups a lot

Your tall, hairy super soldier of a man has very squeaky hiccups

You’ll often wake up in the middle of the night to him squeaking beside you and you just roll over and throw a pillow over your head

You sneeze a lot though, so he carries around tissues in his pocket for you at all times

You’ll be fighting some sort of aliens/robot and you’ll sneeze and he’ll hand you a Kleenex as he knocks a baddie thirty feet away with his shield

“That shield is so dumb, you know.”

“My shield is a patriotic icon”

“Yeah, but it’s the size of a dinner plate.”

“Just blow your nose, Y/L/N.”

“Yes, Sir.” You salute jokingly

He glares at you and before you can run to go fight the Big Guy he kisses you hard

The minute he knows you’re the one is when you’re both at Tony and Peppers wedding and Bucky asks you to dance to the Time Warp (Steve is still traumatized by the movie) and you know how to swing dance almost perfectly

You could keep up with Bucky (who was quite the dancer) and you looked so happy he thought your smile could have been the sun

He had waited for the right partner, and finally, all that time paid off

and he had found you

“I love you.”

“I know.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve roger #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers headcannon #marvel #marvel headcannon #avengers #avengers: infinity war #avengers imagine #steve rogers headcannons #steve rogers fic #chris evans #Chris Evans imagine #Chris Evans headcannon #Chris Evans headcannons #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #Bucky barnes x you #stucky #stony #infinity war #infinity stones

[moonchildhcs]

parkchan hcs

hi kids uwu

in retaliation to miss parker dae’s decision to write some persimin im writing some parkchan so bring it on, bitch boy

how do yall meet ?? its because u were both at the park uwu

u and persi were playing on the swings and oru boy bang chan arrived with his kids and !! he might be the leader but he Wants The Swings !!! but persi is in their own world so you, being a Kind Person (not because hes super cute or anything) gave up ur swing for him and decided to play on the monkey bars instead

and it goes like this for a few hours !! its u, persi, and the boys playing around the park and having the time of ur lives !!! but then the ice cream truck comes and chan, not forgetting that you gave up ur prized swing for him, went over and bought u both some !!! and its the expensive soft serve ice cream too and ur like BITCH WAIT LEMME PAY U BACK

and hes like no !! u gave up ur swing for me !! im repaying u for ur kindness

persi and the kids in the background: huehuehue lovebirds

anyways u two playfully bicker about who owes who (chan insists ur both equal but u insist u owe him) before it gets really,,,, really dark our and u all have to head home and chan, smooth as hecking EVER, says he needs ur number so yall can settle this matter later and who are u to deny this hot guy with a cute accent ??? so u give him ur number and ur like “i WILL repay u”

and he gives u the cutest grin and is like “sure you will ! its a date” and he leaves and u fucking SCREAM

and he keeps u to it yall go on an ice cream date later and u treat this time !! tho he did try to sneakily pay when u left for the bathroom but you caught him in the act and he just,,, walks back to his seat and ur like :^) before paying for the two of you !!

also yall take some cute pics but he insists on having his mask on (you think its for the fashion but its bc he doesnt want to get caught by dispatch oopsies)

and this becomes a monthly thing !! you guys go out to a new ice cream place and try different flavors and stuff once a month as a date but also yall enjoy going on different kinds of dates as well :^)

such as exploring !!! chan told you his job sometimes forces him to stay up rlly late and ur like :( oh no bb but then hes like BUT LETS GO ON A NIGHT ADVENTURE and ur like oh HECK yeah !!! and you guys explore the city at night

also u both speak english and korean so sometimes yall just,, randomly switch between the two in the middle of ur sentences ! anyways uwu

this is maybe three months?? after yall started going on dates and yall are stargazing from the rooftop of the tallest building there is in the area and ur eyes are sparkling, looking at the sky as some soft music plays from ur playlist

and chan just blurts out an “i love you” and you whip your head because !!! holy shit !! and hes like “please, please be my girlfriend” and ur like omg YES !!!

and thats how yall start dating !! but he feels guilty bc hes assumed that u dont know that hes an idol and he calls you and hes like “ive been keeping a secret from you” and ur like “ur an idol? dw i been knew but ur a person before u r an idol !! it changes nothing between us” and his heart hecking BURSTS with his love for you bc !! u dont care abt his career u care about him primarily and he just LOVES YOU

anyways now that yall are an Established Couple lets explore the dynamics shall we?

tbh yall are just big hecking softies !!! yall love to stay in and cuddle because chan is a busybody and can be,, tired especially with promotions so sometimes yall just put on a nice movie or some cool tunes and,, cuddle with a bunch of blankets and stuff

and its rlly cute and wholesome and just,,, uwu

as mentioned yalls continue your ice cream dates !! its a tradition and even if he goes overseas yall just facetime each other and go out to an ice cream place and c o n s u m e !!!! its rlly cute actually and after a while yall settle on One ice cream place that not only has really good ice cream but is also not that busy so chan doesnt have to wear his mask inside !!!

hes five inches taller than you which is Optimal for forehead kisses !!! he just Smooch you all the time !! also loves smooching ur nose he thinks u have a v cute boopable nose !!! he just rlly loves showering u with affection

also he loves to be big spoon !!! he just likes emphasizing that he is bigger than you its fun and to him its very cute, especially when u get frustrated and ur like “IM NOT SHORT” and hes like aha, tell that to our height difference :)

also yall have made eachother so many playlists before and sometimes its a lil bit spicy to indicate that yall find each other Hot but mostly its just rlly cute, meaningful playlists that have made eachother cry

also you BETTER believe this sappy boy has made you more than one song !!! he just lovessss you and he subtly mentions u with nicknames and variations of spider man and ur like (O//W//O) bc thats so hecking cute and meaningful !!

also he better believe ur his number one supporter !! uve got all the merch (but also eventually he finds out that despite being ur bf ur bias is hyunjin and he pouts for a week straight lol)

also u steal so much of his clothing that at one point hes like “parker.. please return my shirts i have nothing but pants to wear” and ur like “oh my god bet?” jokes jokes but im sure the view would be nice oopsies

u dont say it but u love his accent a lot u think its rlly cute (and a lil hot) and he doesnt notice it at first but eventually he notices the dreamy look on ur face when he speaks english and hes like oh? is that what i think it is? and he goes out of his way to speak english from then on and ur like BITCH but also KEEP TALKING

u guys have some lowkey couples clothing but the most blatant is a matching necklace !! it has a sunflower charm on it and its rlly cute :)

anyways bitch lets get onto that hecking SPICEEEEE

u saw the babygirl broadcast. the og broadcast with the pic. and once that live was over u texted him like :^) babygirl huh?

and hes like,,,, oops !

but this prompted a discussion abt kinks between yall and he was like ,, i cant call u babygirl because imma have to call my fans that now to cover for myself but,,, a daddy kink,,, whew chile !

later that day he comes over to ur house and fucks you into the mattress as u scream daddy into the pillow! and dont worry; he calls u princess instead :)

he likes tying you up with these rlly nice silk ribbons !! especially these baby pink ones he thinks u look rlly cute with baby pink :^)

hes not into ageplay of course he thinks thats fucking weird but he likes being called daddy and sometimes when u want to be a brat ull lean into him in public and call him daddy and hes like Wait Till We Get Home and ur rlly in for it with then bc then ur getting it especially rough that day he doesnt give a FUCK

but semi-public spaces are a no go hes got an image to maintain and a career at risk so its strictly at ur place but the absolute tension between yall as yall approach ur place is palpable like... hes rlly intense

also sometimes hes rlly into producing music so sometimes ull be in his Producing Room with him and ur just,, rlly horny but hes like Im Sorry I Have To Work so u get off by riding his thigh and ur like NICE but hes like,,, fuck thats hot and so he takes a break from producing and instead fucks you in the recording room since its soundproof :^)

anyways yall are spicy oof the flavor !

#parkchan #spicy!

[youngjaelook]

Lovely Destruction — Min Yoongi

author’s note — hellooo!! this wasn’t requested, but i’ve been meaning to publish an angsty yoongi fic for awhile now lmao. anyways, should i start writing for NCT? like i recently just got into them and i fuCKING LIVE FOR JUNGWOO asdffgkl that boy is so cute im crying :’) tell me what u guys think <3 #UNEDITED!

summary — You've come to realize that you cannot save Yoongi from the impending doom, that is himself, you can only love him. But it's too late for that now.

warnings — angst, language, smut [mild choking]

word count — 2.8K

Min Yoongi was a kind boy with a gummy smile that could make anyone coo with adoration, and wonder. You fell for him in the second year of high school, how could you not, though? The boy was dripping with warmth, and glee.

He was different, then.

Min Yoongi was a kind boy, who liked to write poems and drink cold coffee. Now, he was just a shell of a man he once was.

He liked cigarettes, black denim and spiting people he once loved, and you were no exception.

It was as if you had forgotten all about the pale boy, his dazzling eyes and his passion for poetry, like you had forgotten about those countless nights counting the stars on your rooftop, his favorite cotton sweater pressed against you skin. Like you had forgotten about how much he meant to you then.

But Yoongi never forgot, not even until now.

You blinked twice just to make sure you weren't dreaming, or perhaps not too drunk to hallucinate your highschool boyfriend. "Yoongi?"

Much to your surprise, he fit in almost too well in the room full of drunken, gyrating college students. He looked like he was in his element, cocky smile never wavering and obsidian eyes so tantalizing under the fluorescent lights. You swallowed thickly.

When Yoongi looked your way, he was reminded of how he had lost himself in high school, how he allowed you to tear his heart to pieces while you giggled and smiled like you did nothing wrong. He grinned devilishly at you.

"If it isn't my beautiful, ex girlfriend," his voice felt like expensive cognac down your throat — smooth and rich. "how have you been, jagiya?"

You wondered how Yoongi managed to keep himself from stumbling, when you could clearly tell he was inebriated and possibly high off some kind of substance.

You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, trying your best to offer him a small smile despite the hammering in your chest as he stepped closer, and closer until he loomed over you in all his leather jacket and platinum blonde glory.

You kept your hands pressed against his chest, preventing him from coming any closer.

"I'm alright. How about yourself? It's been awhile since we've last seen each other." You could easily make out the flash of bitterness in his hooded eyes, prompting all the hidden guilt you've been suppressing for so long to come and nip at your heart strings.

Yoongi leans down.

Your breath hitches in your throat and he notices with a sinister smirk. "Relax jagiya, I won't kiss you," he pauses for a brief second. "unless you ask me to."

It's obvious you're surprised by how touchy, how suggestive he's become. You want to believe it's just the alcohol, or the ecstasy, but you've heard talk, you have heard it all — Min Yoongi was no longer the innocent boy you had fell in love with. You wonder what could possibly trigger such a drastic change in him? Was it because of you — no! i am not going to blame myself for things I had no control over.

Yet you couldn't help, but think against it.

You knew you had taken part in this.

You tried to push him away, but you didn't notice that he had his hands on top of your hips, keeping you flushed against him. You wanted to shove him away and flee, instead you reveled in the feeling of his skin against yours, clearly enjoying the close proximity between you two despite yourself.

"What do you say, jagiya? For old times sake?"

You don't know why you say yes, and lean in to kiss him. You don't know why you savor the taste of cheap beer and mint that lingers on his tongue, why you let him press you up against the wall of an empty corridor, or why you allow him to take you home. You don't know why you're so desperate to have his lips on yours again, while you're struggling to open your apartment's door, why you let him strip you from your clothes, or why you kiss him tenderly as he descends down your body to where you're throbbing for him.

Yoongi hums against you. "You should see yourself right now, princess; so needy and wet for me." His tongue is the first thing that plunges in you, giving you no time to respond to his prior statement.

You're grasping your grey sheets, when he slips a finger inside of you, pumping in and out in a tutoring pace. "Yoongi," his eyes lift from your sex, to your face. "more please."

This fuels his overwhelming desire for you.

He adds another digit, circling them within you, rubbing against your walls, filling up to the brim - it prompts tears to spill from the corners of your eyes because everything about him right now is driving you insane; his mouth, fingers, and that fucking smug look plastered on his face.

He pulls away, much to your dismay. "So sweet," he murmurs against the flesh of your inner thighs. "why don't you touch yourself for me, jagiya?" You were sure you'd come right then and there just by those dirty words rolling off his tongue.

You hesitated at first, but then obliged a moment later on. "shit —" Yoongi chokes.

He watches you intently with dim eyes. You rub yourself slowly, clearly teasing him, thought it works when you hear him grunt in protest. "Put on a show for me, princess."

You sit up, climbing up higher on your bed until your back is against your headboard, a good two feet away from Yoongi. He sits on the back of his knees, hand resting on the evident bulge in his pants. "come on," he urges.

You spread your legs wider for him, running a slender finger up and down your dripping slit.

When Yoongi whines again, and opens his mouth to speak, you practically shove two fingers inside of you. Although it's not as pleasurable as Yoongi's fingers, you try to make do with what you have. "Tell me what to do, I don't really — I mean, I feel awkward."

Yoongi chuckles halfheartedly at you, and crawls towards you.

"Grind yourself on your fingers," he instructs, his cold fingers stroking the smooth skin of your ankles. You do as what you are told, pressing yourself against your fingers, practically riding your digits. You throw your head back, and it hits the wall with a soft thud, but you keep going, overwhelmed by the pleasure of your fingers, and Yoongi's earnest gaze on you.

You're nearly coming, but Yoongi pulls your fingers away. "fuck, fuck — Fuck! No, don't come yet, princess. Let me do that,"

He replaces your digits with his own and this time, you feel the pleasure magnify and ripple through you.

"Yoongi!" You're climaxing with a scream of his name being torn through your lungs. He coaxes you through your high with minimal rubs against your clit, and stops when you whine about how sensitive you feel.

He gives you a few seconds to breathe, while he busies himself shimmying out of his tight-ass jeans. You watch in awe, when he frees his cock from it's restraints, and as it springs up against his lower abdomen.

Yoongi strokes himself briefly, his fingertips coated in the sticky, ivory substance of his arousal. His gaze flickers between you and his length, then finally it settles on your face.

"May I?" The moment he says this, with sincerity gracing his features, you wonder if Min Yoongi hadn't changed at all — that all of this was a facade, and that his true self, the precious, soft Min Yoongi, was just buried underneath the musk, the leather jackets and piercings.

You peer up at him through thick lashes and parted lips, before nodding slowly in response to his question.

He leans down to kiss you, while he lines himself before your heat. He then slips inside with a moan of your name.

You arch your back of the mattress, your naked chest now flushed against his own.

You whimper, when he tries to move. You claw at his biceps. "W-wait — goddamn it, let me try to adjust fuck!" You'd think he'd just send a complacent look your way, but when you meet his gaze, it's full of genuine concern.

"okay sorry," he murmurs into you dim bedroom. You give him the go signal, when you kiss down his jaw slowly. "Fuck me, please." You don't have to tell him twice.

With a snap of his hips, he's in so deep you can practically feel him in your stomach. You rake your blunt nails down the expanse of his back, moaning and groaning out profanities and praises, while he does the same.

"Such a tight fit," he grins devilishly.

You encourage him to go faster, to hit harder as you raise your hips to meet his thrusts.

Yoongi slides in and out of you, his cock so slick with your arousal, you almost feel embarrassed for being so wet for him, thought you can't find it in you to beat yourself up for it, too engulfed in the heat of the moment, the snapping of Yoongi's hips to care.

"Be a good girl for me, and get on all fours."

You don't even hesitate this time. You sit up, and get on your knees and hands for him, for your ex boyfriend.

You don't remember Yoongi being this rough, or experimental with you. In all honesty, he was a lot more vanilla back then and so were you, you weren't opposed to sweet, love making, but you weren't opposed to this either; taking you from behind, dirty talking — and his hand around your throat?

You tried to gasp in surprise, but he had tighten his grip around your neck before you could.

He is relentless with his thrusts. He ruts himself in you, going in deeper, hitting you harder and faster.

In the midst of the euphoria and the languid sounds of skin slapping skin, you ask yourself what you'd do after this, when your highs come and the sun peeks from behind the hills, you wonder what you would say to him, what he would say to you.

"come for me, jagiya."

You're blinded by a stark white light as you come around him. He follows suit afterwards, but pulls out just in time for streaks of ivory leaks from his tip and onto your back.

Before you can even fall flat on your face, Yoongi has his arms around you, holding you up despite his sore arms. "Careful there."

You'd think he'd lay you down against your messy sheets, but he doesn't, prompting you to whine in protest. "I have to clean you up first, just wait there." He wanders into your bathroom, and rummages through your cabinets until he finds a rag.

You sit naked on top of your cotton sheets, gaping at him in awe. He cleans the small of your back with no ounce of hesitancy in his actions, shocking you. Did he do this with most of the girls he slept with, or was he just doing this because you were his ex girlfriend?

You shook your head.

"Okay, you're all clean." You fall against your sheets with a muted thud.

Yoongi just sits there though, watching you with carefully. "You're so beautiful."

You gulped and covered yourself with your arms. "Can I ask?"

Yoongi nods.

"What happened to you?" Yoongi doesn't even look surprised by your question, he figures you'd be nosy and ask questions you didn't want the answers to. He knew well — he knew you too well, and it sends him back in time, where he was a love sick puppy for you, trailing behind you everywhere and anywhere you went.

He remembers sitting out in the rain after you had broke up with him on a cold, July afternoon.

"I think I've fallen in love with someone else," was what you had said to him with guilty eyes and a trembling lower lip. "I didn't mean to hurt you this way, Yoongi! I'm so sorry." He just stares blankly at you, both his face and eyes devoid of emotion.

"Who is it?" Despite his blank stare, his voice was ice cold yet at the same time, burning with anger and resentment.

"Yoongi —"

He grits his teeth. "who the fuck is it?"

You know you won't win, and that he at least deserved a name, you owed him that much. "I — it's Minhyuk-oppa." Yoongi had never so wronged in his life, so hurt.

"Yoongi please —" But he had already left.

He remembers the sleepless nights on uncomfortable, lumpy white sheets, questioning his self-worth, wondering if he was ever going to be good enough for someone — for you? He figures he isn't when two months later, he hears that you and Minhyuk were a fling.

He could hear his heartbeat thrumming in his ears everyday for the rest of junior year. Then he grew tired of the sound, he grew sick of his beige cardigans and all the poetry. Everything about writing your thoughts and feelings on crumpled parchment was absolute and utter bullshit to him.

He moved schools, changed his hair color from time to time, smoked cigarettes, wore tighter jeans, did drugs — but none of that masked the misery and insufferable pain deep within himself. He dealt with it alone, even if you had come by his home multiple time to offer your friendship to him, even if the pretty from his Biology class stayed the night after a round of heated sex, even if he knew he wasn't alone — he still felt like he was.

How could you not know what you had done to him, when it was so painfully clear that he became who he is now because of you.

Yoongi stares at you in disgust, and disbelief. Then it's as if your bedroom walls started to collapse around him. "fuck, I have to get out of here."

You watch helplessly as he staggers to put on his clothes that lay in a pile of the floor. "Yoongi—" He looks behind his shoulder to scowl at you. "Don't do that! Stop pretending you did nothing, that you didn't hurt me!"

You recoil from him, but when he storms out of your bedroom, you follow him. You grab a discarded sweatshirt from the floor, shoving it on because you really did not want to chase Yoongi naked.

He pulls out a stick from his cigarette pack, struggling to find the lighter he usually kept in his jacket. "fuck it." He flees from your apartment into the biting October air.

Despite the weather, and your lack of clothing, you run after him. "Yoongi, can you please wait!"

This sparks a blue flame in Yoongi's chest, while he turns around to face you. "Wait? No! I don't want to just sit around and wait for you to rip my heart out again! I'm not that naive boy you once knew, Y/N." Your name is bitter on his tongue and you can easily tell, though you say nothing about it. "Why the hell are you like this?" You growl.

Yoongi looks like he's about to rip all of his hair out. "How the fuck are you so dense!" His cigarette fall from his mouth as he screams on top of his lungs. You're glad it's nearly 2 in the morning so there's not much people around to witness such a messy sight.

"You did this," he chokes. "you ruined me!" He points an accusing finger at you, and it feels like you've been stabbed in the chest by it.

"Yoongi," you cried. "I never meant for you to end up like this! You think I wanted this? To see you so hurt, so different? Even if you won't believe me, I still love you, Yoongi! I care for you, I adore you — I want you to be happy!"

You still love him, with every fiber in your being. You look at Yoongi and your heart skips a beat, as cliché as that sounds, it's true. You want to save him, you want to help him, do anything to make it alright.

You sobbed. "I love you,"

Yoongi can hear it again. The thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears. He thinks he might go insane if he allowed you to step any closer.

Tonight was a mistake, that much is clear. And Yoongi hated committing mistakes, yet he lived his life doing exactly that, committing mistakes, hurting other people. But tonight was different. He was sure that if he made the mistake of letting you in again, to give you the chance to destroy him again, he would never forgive himself for it.

He shakes his head and turns to walk away. "You're too late."

#lol i feel like im going to hell for this #min yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi smut #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi au #yoongi angst #min yoongi imagines #suga imagine #suga smut #suga angst #suga au #suga x reader #bts imagine #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #jhope #park jimin #kim taehyung #v #jeon jungkook