#Also i realized the numbers were fucked up lol

[b4kuch1n]

tdov was like a week ago already but I just wanna say when I came over to vacation slash help my sworn brother move flat he told me, "ever since you said you wanted to get top surgery I've been thinking about it. it's straight up number two on my bucket list"

#bakuspeech #number one is a house bc obviously. if u can own a house wouldnt u #he was very drunk at that time of the evening. I was not bc I have the constitution of a hot air balloon and any stimulant will blow me up #(relatively new development. france fucked me up big time turns out) #we held hand on his bed for like the whole evening. it was honestly very funny in hindsight but we were extremely earnest in the moment #and Im like. working on this thing as well. I dont got meds or therapy lmao Im bootstrappin here #but yeah early last year his bf offered to get me meds and I... turned it down... I think I was worried abt like. idk. something #but one year past looking back Im fully like that was a stupid move you shouldve gotten meds. youve once again fucked urself baku #but yeah with that kinda realization Ive also come to realized I've somewhat? accepted. that I'm just gonna be. like this #this in light of a number of likely chronic stuff too (hence my balloon-like constitution lmao) and #that's kinda bled into the rest of me without me really noticing #but him bringing that up fully unprompted... kinda jolted me out of it #its just. really incredibly sweet. that someone doesn't want me to settle for what I make do with #and like. preps for that work. just kinda held my hand and told me it's possible to do this actually #I didn't really express how I felt very well in that moment I think my brain is very bad and I process emotions with like a day of delay #but. well. Im thinking abt it Right Now. so yknow thats the kind of impact that had on me lol #not super sure why I wrote all this down here really. I think I just want a good n nice reminder that object permanence is real #and I exist in my friends' life even when Im going insane in a hole by myself #and with the power of friendship we can alter the universe's plan for ourselves and also kill god #that's that. anyways I eat lunch now and then pass out probably. last night was... eventful lmao #but!! very good things on the horizon hopefully. well manifestly we hold hammers and we use them #have a good day lads. let's go out and slay monsters under a highway

[honeyhotteoks]

lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page. 

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath. 

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it. 

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face. 

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you. 

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today. 

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more. 

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page. 

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess. 

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative. 

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry. 

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through. 

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt. 

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs. 

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already. 

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson. 

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement. 

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’. 

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him. 

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,” 

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat. 

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,” 

Your breath comes a little more quickly. 

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,” 

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him. 

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?” 

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand. 

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,” 

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already. 

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling. 

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?” 

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait. 

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?” 

You smile again. 

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?” 

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot. 

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.” 

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open. 

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,” 

Your chest thumps hard. 

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.” 

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention. 

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?” 

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady. 

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen. 

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.” 

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions. 

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?” 

Fuck. 

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,” 

“Fuck,” You whisper. 

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,” 

You’re nodding again. 

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.” 

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs. 

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due. 

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,” 

Your legs spread a little wider. 

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants. 

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing. 

You love him like this. 

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,” 

You pull it back reluctantly. 

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,” 

You comply immediately. 

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,” 

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone. 

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,” 

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear. 

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,” 

Your breath catches. 

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,” 

A moan bubbles up out of you. 

“Hands off.” 

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,” 

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next. 

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,” 

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause. 

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,” 

You follow his instructions. 

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,” 

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot. 

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?” 

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting. 

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, ��fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest. 

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,” 

You don’t have to be told twice. 

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,” 

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to. 

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,” 

Pleasure rocks in your gut. 

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,” 

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,” 

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling. 

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?” 

Pressure drops in your belly. 

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,” 

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back. 

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.” 

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful. 

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you. 

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,” 

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can. 

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,” 

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,” 

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel. 

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,” 

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere. 

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,” 

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot. 

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,” 

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over. 

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,” 

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you. 

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes. 

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,” 

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you. 

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.” 

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you. 

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,” 

You blush again. 

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,” 

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling. 

You are so, so fucked. 

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat. 

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post. 

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company. 

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit. 

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day. 

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five? 

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall. 

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries. 

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention. 

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now. 

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone. 

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here. 

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning. 

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering. 

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby? 

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found. 

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?” 

You’re frozen. 

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows. 

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,” 

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,” 

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks. 

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?” 

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,” 

“Iced or hot?” He asks. 

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me? 

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,” 

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,” 

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed. 

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest. 

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line. 

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,” 

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?” 

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,” 

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

You shake your head, “No, first time,” 

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head. 

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,” 

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,” 

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?” 

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,” 

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer. 

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,” 

Blush creeps up your neck. 

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head. 

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.” 

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?” 

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up. 

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,” 

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,” 

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,” 

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age. 

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella. 

“Seven,” 

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,” 

“Tomorrow,” You nod. 

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,” 

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,” 

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.” 

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,” 

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,” 

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!” 

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,” 

“See you again,” 

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer. 

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account. 

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual. 

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home. 

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening. 

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos. 

He’s lovely. 

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something. 

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table. 

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?” 

“The train,” You glance outside. 

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,” 

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,” 

“Oh,” 

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?” 

Flirting, then. 

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?” 

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,” 

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block. 

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits. 

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles. 

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns. 

Do you tell him? Do you lie? 

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t. 

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking. 

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts. 

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.” 

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?” 

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes. 

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,” 

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?” 

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,” 

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?” 

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,” 

“Recognized me?” 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,” 

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,” 

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down. 

It was so, so nice while it lasted. 

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,” 

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,” 

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,” 

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,” 

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire. 

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch. 

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,” 

“Undrinkable?” You blink. 

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,” 

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?” 

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,” 

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait. 

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you. 

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,” 

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly. 

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?” 

“No,” You tell him firmly. 

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you. 

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,” 

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,” 

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,” 

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.” 

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you. 

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,” 

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,” 

“Oh,” You soften. 

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious. 

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,” 

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,” 

“Right,” You murmur. 

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” 

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting. 

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.” 

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking. 

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,” 

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,” 

You wait, your stomach in knots. 

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks. 

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,” 

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm. 

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,” 

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues. 

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,” 

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.” 

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes. 

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,” 

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening. 

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,” 

A small smile appears on his lips. 

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,” 

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,” 

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?” 

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,” 

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,” 

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?” 

You nod again. 

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?” 

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much. 

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.” 

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,” 

You nod. 

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him. 

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,” 

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words. 

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.” 

He nods once, his shoulders tense again. 

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,” 

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks. 

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,” 

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.” 

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.” 

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks. 

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,” 

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?” 

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,” 

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe. 

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday. 

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air. 

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?” 

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,” 

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.” 

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again. 

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?” 

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too. 

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,” 

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,” 

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him. 

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,” 

“Right,” You blush darker. 

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?” 

You nod quickly. 

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.” 

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time. 

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.” 

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs. 

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,” 

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,” 

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?” 

You nod. 

“And the roleplay?” He asks. 

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,” 

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips. 

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,” 

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?” 

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,” 

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater. 

  “Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,” 

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan. 

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,” 

The button opens. 

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,” 

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?” 

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons. 

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead. 

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,” 

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,” 

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly. 

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,” 

You nod, “So good,” 

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,” 

You’re close. 

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,” 

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right. 

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,” 

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,” 

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,” 

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,” 

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips. 

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,” 

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,” 

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming. 

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,” 

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple. 

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,” 

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge. 

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,” 

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.  

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move. 

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,” 

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise. 

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” 

You shiver, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,” 

“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile. 

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,” 

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes. 

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,” 

“So come inside me,” You smile. 

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,” 

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,” 

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,” 

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,” 

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,” 

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions. 

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?” 

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,” 

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh. 

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,” 

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?” 

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit. 

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands. 

“Yes,” You answer quickly. 

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,” 

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real. 

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real. 

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?” 

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers. 

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you. 

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,” 

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble. 

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?” 

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body. 

“Soon,” He promises. 

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit. 

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,” 

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,” 

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,” 

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something. 

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor. 

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,” 

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,” 

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,” 

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing. 

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,” 

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight. 

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks. 

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,” 

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?” 

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. 

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,” 

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,” 

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,” 

  “It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,” 

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair. 

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,” 

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,” 

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,” 

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,” 

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up. 

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,” 

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes. 

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss. 

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,” 

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,” 

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss. 

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,” 

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs. 

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you. 

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,” 

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?” 

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,” 

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs. 

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you. 

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants. 

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?” 

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet. 

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly. 

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he. 

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,” 

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed. 

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,” 

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him. 

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,” 

You nod. 

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,” 

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire. 

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs. 

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you. 

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,” 

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,” 

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open. 

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust. 

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress. 

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low. 

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you. 

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,” 

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins. 

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?” 

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,” 

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,” 

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him. 

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?” 

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,” 

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll. 

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips. 

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,” 

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer. 

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?” 

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together. 

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,” 

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan. 

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,” 

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin. 

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself. 

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,” 

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,” 

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you. 

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side. 

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?” 

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion. 

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you. 

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,” 

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,” 

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly. 

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little. 

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock. 

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,” 

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,” 

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,” 

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,” 

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,” 

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now. 

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,” 

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,” 

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,” 

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,” 

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips. 

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,” 

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet. 

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed. 

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble. 

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,” 

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good. 

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours. 

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,” 

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,” 

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly. 

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,” 

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling. 

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,” 

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge. 

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock. 

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?” 

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,” 

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest. 

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,” 

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together. 

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees. 

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.  

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment. 

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open. 

“Hey,” He murmurs. 

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,” 

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands. 

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you. 

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?” 

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise. 

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,” 

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,” 

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?” 

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones. 

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water. 

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam. 

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you. 

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all. 

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip. 

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap. 

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,” 

You look up from the rippling water. 

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks. 

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,” 

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.” 

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand. 

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.” 

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together. 

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?” 

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little. 

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,” 

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,” 

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back. 

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,” 

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly. 

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,” 

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,” 

“You like me,” You peck his lips. 

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,” 

#honeyhotteoks updates #honeyhotteoks fics #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang #yeosang #ateez #yeosang ff #yeosang fic #yeosang smut

[bread--quest]

It's 2012 somewhere. Welcome.... to Night Vale Tumblr.

👁️ nvcr-official

Hi guys! I'm Intern Sarah! Excited to be joining you all!

👁️ nvcr-official

To the friends and family of Intern Sarah, she was a good intern and social media manager, and we are sorry to see her go. We will work to find a new intern as soon as possible.

83 notes

🦉 dark-owl-records

CALL OUT POST FOR CECIL PALMER

hes gotten away with shit for too long and im sick of it. tl;dr horrific intern mistreatment with no compensation, mountain denier, homophobic

keep reading

❌ number-one-moonhater Follow

Hey uh. Aren't you a company account? Why are you posting this

🦉 dark-owl-records

L + ratio + god forbid women do anything + your music taste is trash

🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow

Isn't Cecil literally gay?

🦉 dark-owl-records

he's homophobic

🪼 jeebyfish Follow

he has a husband...

🦉 dark-owl-records

yeah and he won't fucking shut up about it

2,500 notes

🤫 cecils-private-blog

Carlos hasn't liked any of my woodcarving posts in THREE DAYS!! I'm so scared what if he's going to break up with me :((

👁️ nvcr-official

Cecil he's your husband he's not breaking up with you. also this isn't a private blog you just put private in the url

🤫 cecils-private-blog

HOW DID YOU SEE THIS

4 notes

🏜️ sandeater Follow

tamika flynn spotted in ralph's dairy aisle "slaying" the milk

🦂 scorpiansscuttle Follow

op i know this is a joke but one time i was in the ralphs dairy aisle and there was some butter up on a really high shelf and someone said "don't worry, i'll get it" and i turned around and it was fucking tamika flynn

☁️ average-weather-enjoyer Follow

fake story :/

📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram

No it's true I was there

🚂 traintonowhere Follow

TAMIKA FLYNN??

🏜️ sandeater Follow

what the fuck is happening on my post

8,345 notes

👁️ nvcr-official

can you guys please stop sending cecil weird shit... i don't want to have to explain to my boss what a dilf is

27 notes

🐚 mariella-shella

Hey guys!! Sorry for the lack of posts recently! I entered a hole in the wall and when I got out I realized I didn't know how long I'd been in there, or where I was, or who I am, and I'm not sure that I'm still the person who entered that hole however long ago. Anyway, the normal posting schedule will resume as soon as I remember what my normal posting schedule was, and if I'm still the person who had that posting schedule!

🌪️ sandstorm-gf Follow

omg mariella!!! missed u so much girl glad ur back!

🐚 mariella-shella

i miss me too

42 notes

😎 Anonymous asked: Response to the homophobic allegations?

🎙️ cecilpalmer

Huh??

🎙️ cecilpalmer

@nvcr-official What does this mean? Is it new slang?

👁️ nvcr-official

uhhhh dont worry about it buddy

50 notes

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

hey guys im in quarantine for eating wheat and wheat byproducts uh...send asks?? i might be in here for a while lmaooo

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

oh lights in the sky its been 5 years since i made this post

☁️ glowcloudapologist Follow

how's it going op

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

i miss my family

506 notes

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

hey if anyone remembers anything about the person running this blog can you tell me? trying to recover the fragments of my identity from the void of memory lol

🥔 potato-enthusiast Follow

you were really hot

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

FUCK YEAHHHHHH

89 notes

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

just a reminder that new residents of east night vale are fully welcome to interact with this blog!!!! you will not be harassed and any hate will be blocked. this blog is safe even if this town isn't sometimes <3

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

This is so sweet, thank you so much! Just so you know, even though it's officially called East Night Vale now, a lot of people still call it Desert Bluffs! Just thought you might want to know :)

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

i'm not calling it that sorry

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

What??? Why??

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

just kind of sucks. as a name

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

?????????

170 notes

🐄

⬜️ kentuckymeatshower_deactivated11051983

what does this mean....

🌌 cece-xeze Follow

another great post from huntokar herself

16,683 notes

🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow

🌲 little-miss-ectoplasm Follow

you don't like pine cliff? 👻 oo ooo?

👁️ nvcr-official

NIGHT VALE SWEEEEEP

806 notes

😁 the-happy-smiler Follow

Hi everyone!! Since Twitter went down, I figured I'd try my hand at this Tumblr thing! I'm so excited to meet all of you!! Hope you're ready for some pictures of CENTIPEDES!! Feel free to AMA about the Smiling God!

👁️ nvcr-official

I

🦉 dark-owl-records

N

🎙️ cecilpalmer

T

📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram

E

🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow

R

🚂 traintonowhere Follow

L

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

O

🌌 cece-xeze Follow

P

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

E

🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow

R

21,983 notes

#fake tumblr #fan: weird little town #i hope you all like this one i came up with it during a slow shift a few nights back and have been carefully crafting it to perfection #boss makes a dollar i make a dime thats why i invent fake tumblr posts on company time. as they say #unreality #< jic #wow look something original!! #im not maintagging this one im letting it find its own way in the world #go my little post. be free #long post #edit: FUCK I FORGOT NOTE COUNTS ON SOME OF THEM. EDITED THOUGH IT MAY BE TOO LATE

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Only text me when you need me

Pairing: fwb!Yeosang x Afab!reader

Genre: Smut, angst, non idol, fluff at the end

Summary: You and Yeosang have been good fwb for a while and he invites you over for a shower together.

Warning: feelings, avoiding feelings

Smut warning: unprotected sex, bathtub sex (Kinda unrealistic too), creampie

A/N: So lol I'm back, had to take a mental break but I'm back and working on request and a new chapter to my series I also now have a kofi ^_^

MINORS DNI

💚: You up? You: Could you be more Cliche? 💚: I’ll take that as a yes 💚: What are you doing? You: Just about to take a shower, what about you? 💚: Come take one here, then you can stay over You: Someone is being thirsty tonight 💚: What can I say? I miss you... You: Bye Yeo, you only hit me up when you need some 💚: Well? You: W.e I'll be there soon

You sighed to yourself, you were weak to Yeosang and his advances. You were going through a bad break up when you met Yeosang at a bar, your friends encouraged you to finally experience your hoe phase since you had been with your ex for so long. You were real with Yeosang and he gave you his number and told you to only text when you need him, and he'll do the same. One good night with him led to lots more until he became number 1 on your roster. Calling and texting each other when you felt even the slightest pang of loneliness or even when your other sneaky links became boring or didn't fulfill your needs. Yeosang was a little different, he didn't just feel like a warm body, but that thought was heading into sneaky link dangerous territory, friends with benefits always have the rule of no feelings and you were determined to not be the one to fuck this up. You threw on a simple grey jogging suit with nothing under, you also packed a small "spend the night bag" because you knew Yeosang was a literal person, and he would really be expecting you to shower and stay at his place.

...

You rang the buzzer to his penthouse apartment, and he let you up. You got to the door and knocked, and his roommate Yunho answered.

"Y/N hey how are you?" He asked as he smiled at you, Yunho was like a golden retriever in 6'3 man form, literal walking boyfriend but sadly he was very taken.

"I'm good, how are you?" You replied as he welcomed you into the penthouse apartment, it was so big and nice, but you can absolutely tell it was only men occupying the space. Just a couch in the living room with no other furniture or other decor, in desperate need of some love.

"Good, I'm heading out to my girlfriends, I yelled for Yeo that you were here, or you can head back. I'll see you later." Yunho waved before heading out the door, he probably didn't want to overhear the shenanigans. You took off your shoes and headed down the hall to Yeosang’s room, knocking before you entered. "Yeosang I'm here." You said as you entered.

"Glad you made it." He was smiling shirtless you scanned his body and realized he only had a towel tightly wrapped around his waist and it kind of made you giggle.

"Why are you wearing just a towel?" you continued to chuckle.

"You came to shower right? Come on and get undressed." He said gathering more of his items to bathe, then handing you a towel to wrap up. You placed your bag on the bed and got undressed and wrapped the towel around your body and put your hair up in a claw clip. He grabbed your hand and led you into his huge bathroom with a bay window overlooking the city connected to his room inside was a large tub by the large window filled with hot water with bubbles. Yeosang sat his phone down and played soft music off of it, the entire situation was actually pretty relaxing and romantic

"I thought we were showering?" you asked nervously, this situation was a bit intense for fuck buddies.

"Yeah, but showers together are hot but can be awkward, this way we can at least relax. We both have been working a lot and need the stress relief; besides you told me your other guys haven't been doing the job and it's the same for me right now so maybe this could help us let off some steam." A flirty smirk was on his face as he winked. You and Yeosang was very open with each other, you had to be if you were going to be having sex, so of course he knew when you slept with other guys and vice versa. He was first to drop his towel and get in then you followed his lead.

...

You were a bit hesitant at first at the thought of a very intimate kind of romantic situation, but this was actually nice. Sitting, talking and relaxing as Yeosang peppered kisses down your neck occasionally while his hands rubbed water and bubbles slowly on your body. He stimulated your mind and body, you felt so hot besides the hot water against your skin. Your eyes closed and your head sat back on his strong chest every time he brushed past your sensitive nipples.

"You seem calm now." He said, his lips close to you, you could even feel the flirty smile on your ear, you both giggled.

"This did calm me down, but you on the other hand seem very excited." You were trying to keep calm with the nice setting, Yeo even dimmed the lights in the bathroom and changed the led to red, but you just couldn't keep yourself fully normal with his hard dick pressing into your ass in the hot water. Between his hands rubbing you, the kissing and you anticipating how good he was going to fuck you, you were driving yourself crazy and it seemed like he was thinking the same.

He slowly dragged his hand out of the water up the length of your body and up to your neck, you moved your head with his hand as he gripped your chin and tilted it to the side. You could feel his breath down your neck, you closed your eyes again as his lips softly connected to your neck, he started to kiss down the length of your neck as your hips slowly rolled against his erection. Sensually wasn't supposed to be the word you wanted to use for this but how couldn't you. Everything felt so good, so right, so dangerous. "How could I not be excited with you basically melting into my lap right now?" He left a few more delicate kisses on your cheek before you turned and captured his lips. A few light kisses eventually turned into a full on make out session, the bubbles slide down your body as you leaned more into the kiss, tongues dances as the kiss deepened. You fully turned to face Yeo straddling him, you could feel his length start to press against your core as he wrapped his arms around you.  The kiss began again before he started to trail his lips down your neck then your shoulders until he reached your hard nipples. He gave them a few pecks to clear the suds then dove in to start to suck them, you moaned while you bit your lip, your hips fully grinding on him and his dick brushing your clit. You loved his slow foreplay, this was Yeosangs game, he likes to draw things out, slow and steady wins the race. He makes you want need more of him, but with your mind going 1000 miles a minute and every single one of them being him you needed to get things started. You removed one of your hands from his shoulders then reached into the water to grab his cock, he hissed and released your nipple at the sudden motion.

You lifted off of him slightly. "Wait Y/N, I'm still getting you ready, are you that needy love?" He said in his deep and soothing voice.

"What if I say I am?" you smirked at him and he gave you a smile back, you gave each other a peck on the lips as you lined his dick up with your entrance and eased down his length. You moaned into his mouth as he bottomed inside you, Yeo is admittedly not the biggest dick you've had but damn did it sit perfectly in your pussy, almost like he was made for you, but again that's dangerous thinking. His arms wrapped around your waist to slowly encourage you to move your hips. You both kept the tempo slow to not splash the water to much and to fit the overall vibes, He met your hips and fucked up into you when you would come back down on his dick. He watched you ride him with his boba eyes, and you avoided his powerful eye contact as much as possible, you threw your head back and let out a few curse words before coming back forward and dropping onto his shoulder. He rubbed your back to soothe you, the closeness caused your clit to rub against his pelvis which had you nearing your edge. You started to moan into his ear "Fuck Yeo I'm gonna cum." He sped up a bit but not too much, he didn't want to fuck up the rhythm, just wanted to make sure you came for him.

"Go ahead baby, let it out for me, let me see you-" You interrupted his request to wrap your arms around his neck and start to ride him faster, you just couldn't afford to see him right now.

"Fuck...fuck, ngh FUCK." was all you could say as your continued to bounce on him as you felt yourself coming undone, your slick mixing with the water and bubbles. The thoughts didn't do away though, you just want to keep going, you lied to yourself saying it was because you were still horny but in reality, it was because you wanted him all to yourself. You both knew you had other hoes but in reality, you stopped talking to most yours and only very rarely see them anymore, no man, woman or person could hold a candle to Yeosang, and you both loved and hated that. He littered your every thought, you've never been this dick whipped in your life, this was sad! You needed to stay focus on not fucking this up, before he could say anything, you snapped out of your thought and felt his dick twitch inside you. You released his neck and grabbed both sides of his face to deeply kiss him.

He was confused by the random kiss but didn't stop you. "What's going on with you Y/n?" He asked as he started to pick up on your out of the ordinary behavior.

"Nothing!" You said in a suspiciously high-pitched voice, you removed your aching cunt off of his dick and moved to your knees on the other side of the tub facing the large window, you wiggled your bubble covered ass in his direction. "Now hurry up, we aren't done yet." You mocked as your folded your arms on the rim and turned your head to face him.

He chuckled at you but obeyed, he made his way over to you and gripped both your hips with his wet hands. You could feel his hard dick begging to penetrate you as he teased his tip at your entrance. "You sure you're good?" he asked again.

"Yes Yeosang, not please just fuu~" He started to slide his length into you, his cock glided into you with perfect ease, and he immediately fell into motion. He had a firm grip on both sides of you, your breast dangling above the water as his hips met your ass at a picking up rate, you moaned and occasionally let out curse words, still feeling the sensation of your first orgasm. You couldn't help but to look back and steal glances at the obscenely beautiful man that was digging into your guts. Was it really your fault for falling for the literal son of Aphrodite? You watched as he had laser focus on watching where both your parts connected, the water and bubbles sliding down his chiseled body and huge arms, the sweat on his forehead that would make his hair stick and he would have to take breaks to brush it out of his eyes, his tan skin from traveling with his friends, the visuals alone had your close to your peak. He felt your googly eyes and looked up, a very brief moment of eye contact while he was still pumping inside you made your neck snap back forward and he raised his eyebrow. His stroking started to stutter as he looked at you with confusion.

"Y/N... look at me." His gripped got tighter and his eyes burned the back of your head, you were cooked. You felt him lean forward and press his chest into your back, his dick pressing even deeper into you and his cockhead hit your spot making you yelp. He gripped one of your breasts and whispered into your ear. "Look at me gorgeous, let me watch you cum all over my cock." He bit your ear, and you were getting closer, you had to give in. You turned to him with the softest eyes, he could see your vulnerability and he felt himself melt but unlike you he could snap out of it. His hips started to move faster as he hammered into you, you squeezed your eyes shut and he gripped your chin. "No baby, watch me while I fill you up." You fought the urge to keep your eyes closed and opened them, meeting his hungry gaze, it felt like he wanted to devour you whole.

"cum... I'm going to cum...ah" You managed to get out.

"I know baby, let's cum together, you're taking me so good." You loved when he talked you through your orgasm. You started to contract around his dick, your edge was right there, his pace didn't slow down but it got sloppier since he was at his end soon too. His groans and whimpers were like music in your ears, and it made your pussy ring you looked at his beautiful worked up face in pure lust amongst other feelings.

"Kiss me please Yeo, kiss me." He nodded at your pleas and planted his lips on your, the kiss was wet and sloppy, teeth smashing into each other’s and spit dripping, his hips still pounding into you, only a few more strokes before he came deep inside you. You felt his cum hot and deep in you which made you coat his cock in your own slick. Yeosang breathed heavily as he laid on your back and you hung on the side of the tub. He eventually pulled out and he drained the tub so you two could shower off. You both dried off and changed into some night clothes, only the music filled the room, there was a comfortable silence for Yeosang but a hard one for you. Did he notice how off you were acting?

You both slipped into his bed, and he was the big spoon like usual, nuzzling himself into your hair and neck. Your mind was racing thinking about your feelings and feeling like you needed to compress those emotions. Yeosang felt you being twitchy and uneasy and opened his eyes.

"What's going on Y/N? Talk to me." He sat up in the bed and looked down on you.

You sighed; this was bound to happen at some point. "Yeo, I know we have been doing this for a while, but I wanted to know something..."

"Anything baby, what's up?"

You sat up as well and faced him, you took a breath. "Yeo... what are we? How do you feel about me?" You boldly asked.

He looked at you for a second before his lips started to quiver and he bit back a smile than burst into laughter.

"Yeosang, you asshole!" You hit his arm and quickly laid back down and cocooned yourself in the covers.

He continued to giggle at you then poked out his bottom lip at your tantrum. "Aww you are just too cute Y/N, please tell me that's not why you've been acting weird all night?"

"It is..." You said in a soft and muffled voice under the covers, feeling extra shy.

"Come out precious, I'm sorry for laughing." He cooed at you, but he could visibly see you shaking your head under the covers. "Fine." He laid down and hugged your cocoon. "I like you Y/N, a lot." Your heart skipped a beat, and you peeked your head from under the covers. "Before you ask, yes really."

You started to smile to yourself, hoping he wouldn't see you and tease you even more.

"So, are you finally ready to be mine?"

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[beesmygod]

we can all look back on and laugh at this when im wrong, but it seems like social media in its current incarnation is dying an undignified and overdue death. it turns out throwing all of humanity into one room and expecting everyone to develop a single ethos was beyond insane conceptually and the artists who built their following on social media are probably in a tail spin right now. people jumping to bluesky are insane lol. did you forget jack dorsey is the idiot who got us into this mess in the first place. why would you choose to subject yourself to this shit again. for what purpose?

the stock answer i got was that "for discoverability/audience" and if that's true thats a problem. i've been hollerin about this to anyone who would listen prior to this but the customer base of twitter (and all social media) is its advertisers. they have not been shy from the start about that fact because its the only way they generate income, as far as i know. YOU (the user) are the product. YOU (still the user) are also what draws people to the site. there is not a social media website on earth that has figured out that making a good website (which would require hiring and paying for quality labor over an extended period of time) is more likely to result in economic success than exclusively courting the businesses whose interest is in making the website worse to use with ads. at no point were our interests ever a factor.

in fact, imo, the number of people following you is not an accurate representational sample of your audience. the reasonable assumption you should make is that the vast majority of numbers involved with any website (esp those with a vested interest in showing off big numbers to VC investors or advertising execs) are inflated or just outright fake. the numbers exist solely to drive you insane and make awful people happy. the numbers cause you and everyone around you to start spontaneously spawning myths about a beast called "the algorithm" that possesses the incredible traits of being both something you can game for success or blame for your failures. it coerces you into enacting out nonsense superstitions to try to counteract or appease it in the hopes of, let's be honest, breaking it big and going viral. this way, you, the creator, do not have to do the hard work of building up a rapport with an audience. none of this goes anything but adds more numbers for the ceos to look at and nod approvingly or disapprovingly at.

the people running the world today are, without exaggeration, cartoon villains. they are deeply stupid, devoid of empathy, and open about their intent to do deeply evil acts in order to further their economic interests. trying to derive some kind of financial benefit from the creations of these unapologetic losers was always bound to be a wasted effort. the best thing i can say about twitter, a website i was banned from countless times and returned to out of stubborn desire, was that i got to make some great jokes with friends and cause some chaos lol. letting people know i have a web comic was always a secondary function once the realization of what social media was turning out to be set in like 7 years ago. any artist who insists that you have to do this or that on this or that social media site is trying to drag you down into the quagmire of online numbers poisoning.

run away!!! children heed my advice!!! the joy of creation does not lie on a path that encourages you to cater to the lowest common denominators while casting your net. just fucking have fun with it. if its not fun then it wont even be fun to do financially anyway. and isnt that, like. the point.

[cheolhub]

FIRST DATE — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. mingyu doesn’t usually fuck on the first date. emphasis on usually.

wc. 3.5k

warnings. MINGYU W/ A MASSIVE DICK, size kink, oral (m. receiving), deep throating/face fucking, shy baby!gyu (at first ;)), tears ofc, pet names (baby, angel), unprotected sex, mating press, gyu is a needy, pussydrunk boy(but reader is worse lol), slight dumbification, kinda romantic but it’s literally just needy sex— MINORS DNI 18+

note. THIS WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS LONG…. um anyway!! happy birthday mingoo <3 — also @ hyuk4ngel ily dedicating this to u n gyu & thank u to my lovely lu ( @ bowmonde ) for beta reading this!! happy gyu birth to you all <3 (pls excuse typos)

“i-i don’t usually do this on the first date,” mingyu stutters as you kiss down his neck, nipping and biting at his skin. he lets out a shuddered breath because he can feel the marks you’re leaving. he swears you’re trying to spell your name and it’s making his cock throb in his already tight jeans.

you mumble into his skin, “i don’t either, but, fuck gyu… you’re so sexy, i couldn’t hold back..” your hands find their way under his shirt, feeling him up and moaning when he whimpers at the not-so-subtle touch. 

gyu. you’ve called him by his nickname and you barely know him and, for some reason, it really turns him on. 

he wanted to be a gentleman– wanted to walk you to your door, peck your cheek, and whisper goodnight– but your mutual attraction got the best of you. one thing led to another and you were kissing him outside of your door as soon as he’d agreed to your invitation to come inside. 

you parted from his neck briefly to get inside so none of your neighbors would come outside to see the two of you eating each other alive. as soon as he’d stepped inside and closed the door, though, you pressed him right against it.

“we should move to–” he tries, but he’s interrupted by your lips. you slot them into his and your hands wander down his torso, down his abdomen, down till they reach his belt. 

“what do you wanna do, mingyu~” you seductively whisper against his lips. 

he shudders again, “anything. we can do whatever you want.”

you smirk, “you’re such a gentleman, gyu… you were so sweet at dinner. you picked me up, paid for my meal, walked me all the way to my door… i just wanna make you feel good.” you tell him, unbuckling his belt, but before you move to unbutton his jeans, you ask permission. “can i do that, gyu? can i make you feel good?” 

you can’t be real.

“fuck, y-you don’t have to, i want you to feel good, too.” he replies, words breathy as he finds himself chasing your lips.

you moan just at his words, leaning in to give him what he wants.

you must’ve done something redeemable in your past life to have accidentally met mingyu in a cafe. he may or may not have been on his phone while walking out and you may or may not have bumped into him while he was leaving. needless to say, his piping hot coffee ended up all over you and him, staining his white button up and your cute new top in the process. 

he’d asked if you were okay— if you were hurt or burned— profusely apologizing with a nervous stutter. when you finally noticed how beautiful the man before you was, you couldn’t even care about the irrevocable stain made on your shirt. 

you ultimately ended the conversation with, “it’s okay, you can pay me back with a date maybe?” to which he gave you an incredulous look. when he realized you were serious, he nodded shyly and exchanged numbers with you.

and the date went swimmingly, truth be told. probably the best date you’d ever been on. he made you laugh like no other and you made him blush with your playful teasing and easygoing aura.  the chemistry was undeniable.

which brings you back to the now— his tongue shoved in your mouth and your fingers still fumbling to unbutton his jeans. 

when you finally get them undone, you break from the kiss again and mingyu hates that you keep doing that, letting out a whine every time it happens. 

“wanna suck you off.” you tell him bluntly and his eyes widen in shock, puffy lips parting a bit. “can i?”

“are you sure?” he asks, meekly– a bit too shy for a man of his caliber. “i can eat you out instead…”

your core pulses at the words because, fuck, that sounds good too. you have no doubt in your mind that mingyu is a god at eating pussy if it’s anything like the way he kisses you.

but, no, you’re adamant on getting his dick in your mouth, so you shake your head. “you can do that for me another time… i really wanna do this. you’ll let me, won’t you?”

and how the fuck could he say no to that? he nods his head letting out a shaky, “ok.”

you nearly squeal, excitedly dropping to your knees and as you hit the ground, your eyes are leveled with his alarmingly large bulge. you unzip his jeans, pulling the denim and cotton boxers down his thick thighs till his cock pops out, slapping against his clothed abdomen. mingyu hisses as his length is free from the confinement and met with the cool air circulating in your home. 

and, honestly, you think you start drooling because holy. fucking. shit. he’s intimidatingly big. 

no, big is an understatement. he’s huge. massive. likely to split your body right in half if he tried to put it inside of you. but, really, what did you expect? mingyu himself is big. you’ve dated many men who were bigger than you, some even bigger than him— but none of their dicks compared to the one currently twitching in front of you. 

his leaky tip was flushed red and the veins running through his length were prominent. you could nearly feel the weight on your tongue and you hadn’t even touched him. 

“you’re so big,” you whisper looking up at him and he swears he’s gone bright red at the comment. 

“‘m not that big…” he mumbles, eyes averting from yours. if he looks at you on your knees any longer, he may cum untouched. “is it too much? i really don’t mind taking—“

you shake your head vigorously . if anything, you wanna take him down your throat even more. “it’s not… it’s not too much— i can take it.” you tell him and he inhales sharply because he’s fucking sure you could take it. “do girls not tell you you're big, though? why are you so humble about it?” you ask, hands slowly coming to wrap around his girth. 

he gasps at the unexpected contact, eyes finally coming back to you to find what may be a faux pout etched into your lips.“t-they do… i just- i don’t think it’s that big.” he reiterates.

“well it is. you probably wouldn’t even fit inside me,” you admit, voice hushed. your mouth hovers over his tip, letting a trail of spit out to lubricate him.

he curses, cock twitching in your light grip. “fuck, really?” the thought of not fitting in your cunt because he’s just that big has his mind reeling– has him excited. he wants to see if what you’re saying is any true (it is). 

you hum, nodding your head, slick hand effectively moving up and down his cock. “mmh, might break me without any prep– but you’ll make it fit, right, gyu? you’ll fuck me well?”

he lets out a gaspy moan, throwing his head back. “yeah, baby, i’ll make it fit– i’ll fuck you so well. shit, i’ll do anything you want.” his parroted words come out breathy once again. 

you exhale sharply, cunt clenching around nothing at his words and the thought of taking his cock. your hands quicken their pace before you move to wrap your lips around his blushing tip.

this man will give you anything you want and you’re willing to do the same for him. men like mingyu are nearly impossible to come by and you want to keep him all to yourself, so if that means choking on his dick till you can’t breathe, so be it.

you move your mouth down his cock and before you can reach the base, he’s already hitting the back of your throat. 

right above you, mingyu is losing it. he feels the way you constrict around him and it’s already taking him out. he hadn’t expected to be so sensitive, but he just can’t handle how warm and wet your mouth is and he definitely can’t handle how tight your throat is. he can only imagine how much tighter your cunt must be. 

“fuuuck,” he groans, hands flying to your head, tangling his fingers into your hair. “you’re so good.” 

the subtle praise heads straight to your core and you can’t stop the moan that vibrates his entirety. a pitchy whine rips from his throat and he fortuitously thrusts into yours causing tears to prick at your eyes as you let out a strident gag. 

he gasps out an apology, “‘m sorry.” he panting relentlessly and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was about to release into your mouth. when you look up at him with your mouth full and tears clouding your vision, you see that he isn’t really sorry. “‘m so sorry, angel, fuck, ‘m sorry.” he echos over and over with his face pinched in pleasure, yet his hips won’t stop bucking into your mouth. 

you try your best to breathe, but his massive cock makes it hard as it fills your mouth and throat completely. his hands holding your head in place makes it impossible to move, but he sounds so pretty whining and desperately moaning out your name– you don’t even want to back off of him. 

your hands find his bare thighs and you grip them for dear life, fingernails digging into the flesh, sure to draw blood if he doesn't ease up any second now. he hisses at the feeling, ripping you off him with a tug on your locks. 

“need to fuck you now,” he groans, his cock throbbing angrily at the loss of contact. “can’t cum like that, ‘s too embarrassing.” he picks you up, making you stand on your feet. he notices how your mascara runs and your lipstick is smudged, but somehow, you’re still the prettiest thing in the world.

your ego naturally inflates at the comment and you smile cheekily. “i would’ve been flattered if you came that quick.” the words come out raspy thanks to the way his cock bruised your throat. 

he chuckles breathily while pulling up his pants, “i‘m sure you get guys that cum too fast a lot. especially with a mouth like that. ”

you shrug, taking his hand and dragging him to your bedroom on the opposite side of the main entrance. “sometimes, but none are as pretty as you.” you tell him truthfully as you guide him inside quickly, shutting the door behind you. “or as big.”

your face to face with him and he whispers, “yeah?” 

you tug him close to you by his sweater. “yeah,” you whisper against his lips. “dunno how you haven’t been locked down yet, you’re so attractive ‘n sweet– and… y’know, you’re huge.”

“just waiting for the right person to come along, i guess.” he whispers back, hands finding purchase on your waist. “think i’ve found them, though.”

your heart skips a beat and your breathing picks up, “yeah?” you echo breathily back at him. 

“fuck yes,” his grip tightens, pulling your body flush to his. you feel his cock pressing into your abdomen and you let out a whimper at both the coded confession and the way your pussy throbs at his touch. “c’mere, baby.”

you melt at the pet name, closing the gap between the two of you. you count back to how many times you’ve kissed him tonight and you’re almost scared that you’re addicted to the feeling of his lips on yours. the thought quickly dissipates when mingyu begins to pull your dress up by the hem, though. the two of you walk towards the bed, mouths still attached till you fall on the plush comforter, mingyu toppling over you. 

you giggle into his mouth at his body crushing yours. “gyu.”

“sorry.” he scrambles, standing up so you can get your dress over your head. you throw the fabric to the ground, leaving your body adorned in a pretty, white set. typically, you wouldn’t dare pull out one of your favorite sets for anyone– especially not for a first date– but you think mingyu is the most beautiful– most deserving– man to exist. he should get to see the set. 

and he does see it. he can’t stop the way his eyes ogle your lace covered body. “you’re so beautiful.” he pants out much like he’s in heat. 

and he just might be. he quickly and clumsily kicks off his shoes and pulls his pants back down, revealing his aching cock to you again. you curse to yourself when his shirt comes off shortly after, his big chest and toned abdomen on full display. 

god really took his time with kim mingyu. 

he doesn’t waste any time, practically lunging at you and hovering over you with blown out pupils. “look like an angel– fuck, you’re so pretty.” 

you pout, feeling your brain turn to mush at the endless compliments that seem to flow past his swollen lips. the dull ache and sporadic pulse in your cunt remind you how needy you are, though, so you express that to him by bucking your hips up. 

“gyu…” you whimper. “want it so bad.”

he groans, hands pinning your hips down and grounding you to the bed, “i have to prep you, baby– you said it yourself, ‘m not gonna fit.”

you shake your head ceaselessly while squirming in his grip, “no, i don’t care, just give it to me or else i might die.”

“but you said–”

you interrupt him before he can say anymore. “give it to me… please.” the plea comes out hushed and your words are laced with the utmost desire. so much so that it’s almost impossible for mingyu to deny you. you can see some doubt lingering on his face so you tell him exactly what he needs to hear. “‘m so fucking wet for you, mingyu… i’m sure it’ll just slip in– it’s okay. you won’t hurt me.”

he shakily exhales before nodding. “o-okay…” his fingers nimbly tug at the soaked panties, signaling you to raise your hips so he can roll them off your legs. 

mingyu’s pulse thumps erratically in his ears as soon as he sees just how wet you are. your pussy glistens under the soft lamp light and he wants a taste– to drown in your pussy– because he just knows you’re fucking delicious. 

“wanna taste you…” he moans and your walls clench around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal trickling out of you. 

you teeth catch your bottom lip to stop the whine bubbling in the back of your throat.“next time…” you croak. “just need your cock inside of me right now.”

he nods his head at the promise of a next time– he’ll hold you to that. “condom?” 

“iud and ‘m clean,” you confirm, knees knocking against your chest as you pull them up. 

“same.” he says mindlessly as he grips the back of your thighs and spreads you open. “well, i don’t have an iud, but i’m clean, too.” 

he’s cute, you think before you remind yourself that this cute, big man is about to absolutely wreck you. 

you smile, “good,”

one of his hand wraps around his throbbing length, running his flushed tip between your soaked folds to collect wetness. you whine at the contact, praying that he finally stops this unintentional teasing.  

when he drags his cock to your drooling hole, he asks, “are you sure?”

your eyes squeeze shut and nod, “uh-huh, please.”

he lets out a wobbly sigh before pushing his fat tip into you, biting his lip as he watches the way your cunt stretches open to swallow him up. you gasp, back arching at the burning sensation in your core. you really have never taken anyone so big. 

he stops only half way when he’s met with strong resistance. “talk to me, angel,” he whispers to mask his wavering voice. “are you okay?”

you mewl, “g-gyu…” 

“baby, do you need me to pull out? you’re so fucking tight,” he grunts, his cock twitching between the gummy walls that suffocate him. 

your hands grip the sheets under you and you shake your head, letting out the most incoherent sentence ever. “n-no, just– slow, go slow.” 

but you’re completely coherent to mingyu. “relax, pretty. ease up for me– i want it to feel good.” he coaxes, voice soft.

his attempt in helping you relax proves to be futile when you clamp tighter around him. the action elicits a moan from the both of you. 

“j-just fuck me– please, just move.” 

he gives you a weary look, but does what you ask for anyway. he pushes past the resistance, sheathing himself further inside of you. and, fuck, you swear you’re just about to cum when he’s finally bottomed out, both of your hips flushed against each other. you’re impaled on his fat cock, stretched open and completely full of him. 

he’s very hyper-aware of how you're squeezing him while he’s balls deep inside of you and his mind can’t stop reeling. he moans out your name and a few curses, holding himself there till you adjust to his size. 

and you’ve gone dumb at this point, unable to make a comprehensible thought about anything other than the cock you’re split open on. “s-so big. oh my, god, mingyu– you’re so big.” you almost sound like you’re overexaggerating, but it’s true. you can feel him everywhere. 

he can’t stop the way he jolts at the comment, inadvertently driving himself into you. you sob at the doing, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“shit, sorry. still good?”

“mhm, ‘s good– ‘m good.” you tell him as the uncomfortable burn slowly melts to pleasure. “you can move, baby.”

mingyu groans, hands coming back to grip the backs of your knees pushing them against your chest before he slowly pulls out and pushes back in.

you let out the prettiest moan, his name tumbling past your pouty lip and, now, he thinks he’s lost it. 

no, he’s definitely lost it because his speed quickens without a second thought. he drives his cock in and out of you, listening to the way you cry and mewl mixed with the sound of his balls slapping against your wet cunt. 

“Y/N, you’re so fucking good. pussy’s so fucking good– takin’ me so well,” he nearly cries, gripping your flesh tighter. “god, you’re mine now.”

his?

it shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but the way your stomach flips and walls tighten verifies that it does. 

“and you’re mine.” you moan in response. 

and the reassurance that you want him to be yours has him lurching in to sloppily kiss you, moaning into your mouth while he keeps a rapid tempo. you let him swallow your whines and your arms envelope him, pulling him closer. 

his cock finds your sweet spot and when you gasp, he knows to keep hitting it with precision. 

“gyu! gyu, i’m gonna cum.” you warn against his lips.

he growls, thrusts increasing in pace as he’s adamant on getting you to your high. “cum for me, baby– cum all over my fucking cock.” 

his words and impressive speed trigger your orgasm. the tightness in your tummy dissolves as you completely unravel under his big, buff body. you seize, back arched and head thrown to the pillow as you cum and clench around him uncontrollably. 

“that’s it, fuck,” he moans, continuing his assault on your poor pussy.  “you’re gorgeous, angel, so fucking pretty when you cum.”

the onslaught of pleasure is almost too much, body beginning to shake in overstimulation. “w-wan’ you to cum,” you slur, a cry following the words. “please please please, cum on me!” you beg. 

and mingyu is at your beck and call. he knows he’s  just met you, but he’d do anything you asked of him because the grip you (and your pussy) have him in is nothing short of insane. 

that’s why he’s quick to pull out, releasing you from his bruising grip to fist his arousal-drenched cock up and down. he throws his head back and moans out your name again as he releases hot, white ribbons of cum onto your stomach. 

after a few minutes of panting and coming down from his high, he chuckles airly. “i’m so glad i spilled my coffee on you, if i’m being completely honest.” 

you giggle, hiding your face in your hands, “it was a cute top, though.”

“well, you look cute without it on.” he smiles, leaning down to pepper your face with soft pecks. 

“mingyu!” you blush, playfully slapping his bare chest. “be serious!”

“i am!” he laughs. “speaking of being serious… when’s our next date?”

you hum, “well, it depends. when are you free and what do you wanna do?”

there’s a playful glint in his eyes when he looks at you, “i’m free now… and y’know how you said i can eat you out next time?”

your breath gets caught in your throat, but you nod your head remembering the promise you’d made. 

“well… what do you say? can i treat you to a second date? say… right now?”

“i’d love nothing more.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

taglist 🔖: @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @rckwithyou

#mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu oneshot #svt smut #seventeen smut

[charmercharm3r]

Make Love, Not Porn

Hi, My Name Is

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

18+ content – minors, do not interact

wc: 7.7k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, subby/service top!barista hyune, softdom!reader, oral (m), piv, protected sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, consensual recording, lmk if I missed anything :p to be so honest i have no idea what i wrote i kinda blacked out lol so if it’s ass..look away

Past Broadcasts : Puppeteer

Live : Hi, My Name Is

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Sunday

☆ﾟ

Rule number five: know when to cut the cord.

But it was so difficult when he was literally showing up at your front door. You avoided him at all costs, acted like he didn’t exist, even found a new grocery store because it was too close to the coffee shop and you were terrified of the possibility of running into him there even if the chances were slim to none. There wasn’t even a reason for you to be scared to see him, he rejected you. He’s the one that should be embarrassed, turning down a ten out of ten.

Then again, he was a ten out of ten. A twelve out of ten, even. But why did he have to shove it in your face?

You were red in the face, light sheen of sweat all over your body when you’d heard the knock. The middle of the day and you were in the middle of a solo session, breaking in a new toy you’d gotten for the next stream. An hour had probably passed when you realized it just wasn’t working. Nothing was. The last time you’d been with Hyunjin was also the last time you’d cum, and it was frustrating the life out of you. As someone in this industry, cumming as many times as you wanted was one of the few motivators you had left. The amount of times you’d had to fake an orgasm on your streams was hurting your ego, as well as starting to get slightly suspicious to your regular viewers.

And now the sole object of your desire was behind a slab of wood that may as well have not been there at all. Your body heated up as soon as you saw him, like a warm hug. A fucking hug on the chilliest day of winter with a hot chocolate slipping down your throat. There’s also something else that would be awfully nice down you throat, and it’s behind the fucking door.

Through the peephole, you could see flowers and a coffee in his hand, biting his lip waiting for you to open. You hoped he didn’t hear you, that he’d assume you weren’t home and leave you alone for good. If you ignored him long enough, you’ll forget you’d ever even met him.

You backed away from the door when there was a second knock, hand still reached out holding the nob out of habit. The desire to open it was almost strong enough to override the nagging at the back of your head that told you “he’s just using you. He got in your pants so easily the first time, what’s to stop him from coming back for more?”

Almost.

It was a ruse, it had to be, this grand gesture. He was love bombing you. There was something he wanted. If not just sex, then fifteen minutes of fame? Using you for your platform? Still, you wanted to see the best in him, creeping up to the door again and silently looking through the peephole again. He was biting the inside of his cheek, switching the coffee between his hands when it got too cold. At some point he’d put everything into one hand so that he could run his hand through his hair– you gasped a little at how effortlessly beautiful he was, not trying knowing no one was looking and still ethereal. He mumbled something to himself, you blinked then he suddenly dipped out of the frame.

He was finally gone. Another deep breath, your head rolled to the side and your back pressed to the wall, sliding down into a crouch probably a lot more dramatic than need be. But this felt dramatic, fucking theatrical like it was some poorly written fanfiction turned into a D-list casted movie. Twiddling your thumbs as if looking at them long enough would suddenly give you the answer, the small burst of adrenaline had finally begun to wear off, and sulking back into your pitiful showroom you went. 

-

Hyujin doesn’t know how long he’d been waiting outside your house. He’d eventually decided to make himself comfy on the floor with his back to the door. Flowers, coffee, and baked good set aside, he scrolled through his phone and kept himself busy until eventually, he’d fallen asleep. Head lolled to the side, mouth agape, and snoring in the hallway.

Then he’s suddenly falling backwards, beyond startled and looking up at… an angel?

“Definitely not an angel.”

Did I say that out loud?

“Yes.”

Dazed, confused, a little gutpunched, Hyunjin sat up with your help. Just a light hand on his back until he realized you were touching him and he jumped to his feet and scrambled to grab the bouquet. Holding it out to you with shaking hands, “a peace offering.”

You looked at the gifts, leaned against the wall, and back up to his face, “what are you doing here, Hyunjin?”

He glanced around the room to take in the sight of your home without the prospect of sex slightly clouding his mind. It was cute, everything was so you, but also somehow entirely different to what he’d imagined your apartment would look like. It wasn’t reflective of your showroom, which was all neon lights and sultry furniture to keep the mood. The rest of the house was cozy with little pieces of decoration that screamed with personality. The dimming glow of the sunset lighting the living room was the perfect accessory.

Wait, sunset?

You peaked at where he was looking, “did you fall asleep?” Hyunjin nodded.

Now you felt bad, guilty even. You shouldn’t seeing as there was little to no established relationship and you didn’t owe him anything, but you did. His cheeks were puffy, pink tinted, and he still looked a little lethargic. Cute. Very cute. How badly you wanted to nibble on his cheeks cus they looked so edible. He looked edible.

No. Stop it.

“I would offer you a snack but the last time I did that you left me high and dry.”

He didn’t know if you were being serious, turning his attention back to you with a dumbfounded expression. “Really? You didn’t feel so dry to me.” Not a single ounce of shame, but also not trying to be smug. And no filter in his brain or mouth. “You didn’t call.”

Straight to the point.

Hyunjin invited himself in and headed for the kitchen he vaguely recalls following you into for said snack. He shuffled around in search of a vase, pushing the coffee into your chest when he finally found one and bumping into you because you were trailing so close behind. The little sip you took as he filled the vase with water to display on your kitchen counter made your body temperature soothe. 

“You didn’t stay,” the softness of your voice made his heart sink.

“Did you really want me to?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Say that, yes, I wanted you to stay so bad that I chose to ignore you instead of confront you because it’s easier to pretend you don’t exist than risk getting hurt again? Actually tell him that you haven’t been able to make yourself orgasm properly since the last time you were together? That he’s ruined how you view pleasure entirely? That sex and pleasure and dating and basic human relationships seems so fucking pointless if it’s not with him? To a man you’ve known for a week? No, that’s not an option. It’s batshit insane.

What’s also insane is how simple talking to him is. It’s psychotic that you feel more comfortable alone with him than you do people you’ve known for years. You’re delusional to think that this is more than physical attraction, even if it is. It’s so much more than that and every bone in you is telling you let the dainty red string pull you closer, let it guide you towards him. And god, you want to. It’s too good to be real, he’s not real. He’s a figment of your imagination that only exists in fairy tales because little red strings of fate don’t determine your life, they don’t tell you who you’ll love, it doesn't mean anything. Not a single fucking thing.

“Yes.” 

Now, why the fuck would you say that?

“You should’ve told me,” Hyunjin let out a sigh of what you think was relief.  His shoulders slouched forward and smiled up at the ceiling.

His nonchalant made you raise an eyebrow, “I offered! You declined!”

“Don’t yell at me. I left my phone number on your desk, you didn’t call. Drink before it gets watered down.” You frowned and took a sip. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“What are you talking about? What phone number?”

“The one on your desk? With the pretty drawing of you and the… y’know?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“What?!” He slammed the bag with the baked item onto the counter and stormed through the apartment towards your showroom. You watched as he scoured the room, searching the bed, corners, your desk for whatever it is he was looking for.

Hyunjin had gotten on his hands and knees to look below it, finally to roll your chair back and pull the cupsleeve out from under it. The cardboard was smashed, crumpled, a little dirty. He stumbled to his feet to hold it in front of you, accompanying his raised, unamused brow.

“To be fair, I thought my chair was broken.”

“You didn’t even bother to look at why it might’ve been broken?!” You shrugged, sipping the coffee again. Hyunjin huffed and tossed the cup sleeve back onto your desk. “You’re insufferable. Where the fuck is your phone?”

“Don’t swear at me.” Pointing at the bed, Hyunjin rolled his eyes before taking it.

“Passcode?” You tell him the six digits to unlock it. “Is that your birthday?”

“...No.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember. I’ll even add it to your contact so that I get the notification.” After a few moments, he smiled triumphantly and tossed your phone next to the abandoned cupsleeve. “Now… Dinner?”

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive?”

“I left you outside.”

“Yeah.”

“For hours.”

“Sure.”

“You fell asleep on my doorstep.”

“Where were you going, anyway? The sun was going down.”

“To get my mail.”

“What?! At night alone?! Now, that’s unforgivable.” Hyunjin took a step towards you, slim yet broad figure shielding yours from just about everything in your immediate vision. He leaned over, placing both of his hands on the sides of your head to hold you steady as he placed a simple kiss to your forehead.

The sudden affection made your brain short circuit because what the hell? How was he so okay with everything? It was almost like there was a wind up monkey toy holding cymbals inside his head that started clapping whenever his attention was taken somewhere else. But somehow, you were even more attracted to him, if that was even possible.

“Were you doing something in here? It smells like sweat.” He said and casually strolled out of your showroom. 

For hours, you and Hyunjin were in your kitchen. Half of that was spent trying to figure out what the two of you could cook without burning the house down. The conversation was so entertainingly mundane that neither of you realized how much time had truly passed, sun fully set and night sky helping illuminate the dimly lit living room. He insisted on doing most of the cooking when you both agreed that boxed pasta and premade red sauce would be the safest thing.

All you had to do was sit back and ogle his back muscles as he stirred the pot, maybe hand him a napkin or spoon when asked. The white shirt he wore was as thin as they come, tank top more than visible beneath it and making your mouth water. The room had become incredibly warm as Hyunjin put the wooden spoon to the side. With his back to you, you got to watch as both his hands threaded through his hair, gathering what he could, and tying it into a messy ponytail. God, how did he do that? That thing where he just exists and it makes you swoon? He needs to stop– it’s getting ridiculous how hearts were basically replacing your pupils.

“If it tastes horrible, lie to me and act like it doesn’t.” Hyunjin placed a full plate in front of you, taking the seat across from you.

For the most part, the meal itself was silent. There just weren’t any words that you could think coherently enough to speak. Great food, made especially for you, and by the most handsome boy you’d ever seen, why would you need to say anything? Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind. All it looked like he cared about was not taking his eyes off you.

It was just the littlest bit uneasy, but nothing that put you off. His stare was just intense, part of you thought he was reading your mind. However, if he could, you probably wouldn’t have had to spend a week apart.

“I don’t understand you,” you admit as you suddenly find your plate nearing clean.

“Do you have to?” He responded, putting his fork down and sitting back while adjusting to spread his knees.

“I’d like to.”

Oh, how his heart fluttered when you said that. It felt like a step in the right direction. “That’s the first time you’ve asked me something personal that isn’t related to sex.”

You frowned along with the small guilt that lingered over your shoulder. “This is only the fourth time we’ve met.”

“Most people ask this before taking their clothes off. I think I’ve told you before, you’re not like most people.” He could see you bite the inside of your cheek, making a cute pout that he could tell was coming from a place of an unnecessary amount of self awareness. “I like it, though. Why do you think I came back?”

“I don’t know why. That’s, like, the whole point of me saying, ‘I don’t understand you.’”

Hyunjin reached over the short distance between him and you, thumb smoothing the ruffle between your brows and you instantly relaxed. As awkward as he could be, he really knew how to make you feel so at ease, second nature for him to be comfort embodied. There was no judgment on his face or in his tone that you could see. If you had asked what he was thinking about, he would have answered with how pretty your cheeks glow after a good meal.

“That day, you agreed to come with me and… participate..?” Hyunjin nodded along and listened intently, continuing to lightly push your hair from your forehead and trace the outline of your cheek. “Then we showered and snacked and then you just… you left. And didn’t so much as twitch when you looked at me after we were done.”

His jaw wanted to drop to the floor just how it did in the cartoons. That was the only reaction he could emit as it all clicked into place. Why you didn’t look for him or stop by the coffee shop, why you were reluctant to open the door and accept his gift, the slightly cold shoulder you gave him when you so clearly wanted to be nothing but a blanket of warmth. “Is that what you think?”

Hyunjin’s heart hurt a little when you didn’t answer, but he also wanted to laugh in your face at how stupid all of this was. However, he had clocked it the second you two had a real conversation, and so laughing at you was probably the last thing he should do. Instead, he trailed his touch down your jaw, gently cupping your cheek. “You’re more than all this,” hands slid quickly, gesturing down your sides and back up. “So much more.”

The tears wanted to swell in your eyes at how sincere his voice was. He could’ve been lying, for all you knew, but the small part of you that wanted to believe him was also the biggest part of you that had always wanted someone to tell you those small words. The small part of you that wanted to be wanted was also the biggest part of you that wanted him. It was all so confusing, you understood him perfectly but also not at all. Hyunjin could read you easily by now, you were like an open book to him.

“But I was naked.”

“And so fucking beautiful,” practically gritted through his teeth because just saying the words couldn’t express the painfully good clenching in his chest. Hyunjin pulled back for a second to stand up and shrink to his knees in front of you, reaching up again to take your cheeks in both of his hands. “But how could I look at just your body when there is so much up here to get to know?”

There it was again, all the right words executed perfectly in spite of how great of a wall you put between you and him. Hyunjin smoothly pressed a kiss to your forehead, for emphasis or not, it made you shut your eyes tightly and the tears silently rolled. His thumbs were swiping it away before making it over the hill of your cheekbone, and he was standing to take your empty dishes into the kitchen for cleaning.

You were absolutely stunned. Unsure of where to go, how to act, what to say, you simply watched him quickly wash the plates with an endearing smile all the way across his cheeks before he was taking your hand to lead you towards the couch. He sat you next to him, millimeters apart and reading your body language. Definitely in need of a lighter mood.

Hyunjin stuck his hand out for a handshake.

“What’re you doing?” Your voice cracked.

“Hi, my name is Hyunjin. You’re incredibly gorgeous and I’d love to take you out sometime.”

“If this is some kind of roleplay–”

“It’s not,” he took your hand from your lap to connect with his. “This is me wanting to know you, and you wanting to know me. I don’t know what you do for a living, and you don’t know what my dick looks like. Just people.”

Just people, that sounded nice.

You hesitated, then shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“So Y/N, can I take you on a date? Maybe have a picnic in the park, grab some cheap painting supplies and go paint near the river, dessert at the best ice cream spot I know. We can make it a nice day.” He tucked his hand back into his lap respectfully, throwing the other over the back of the couch to get just the littlest bit close to you.

“I’d like to, but I’m lactose intolerant.”

“See, I’d say that’s a lie because of your coffee order. But since I don’t know you, I’m going to take your word for it and offer a cake place that I’ve heard great reviews about.”

“I don’t like frosting–”

“Just go on a date with me!” He raised his voice slightly with aggravation, teasing annoyance because he knew you were being difficult on purpose. You couldn’t help but giggle as he pretended to squish your cheeks when in reality, he was forcing down his cute aggression to keep from taking a loving bite out of you.

Your cheeks warmed up at his reaction, endearing and all together cute. He was a weird combination of adorable and sexy, even now with strands of his hair falling in front of his face, glasses hanging on the front of his shirt but a gold chain peeking out from behind the neckline that would look so good dangling in your face. You couldn’t help taking the glasses and opening them, slipping it onto his face. Hyunjin let you toy with his look by lightly brushing his hair away and pulling the necklace out of its hiding place. He raised his eyebrows when you were done. The skin of his neck tingled from where your fingertips had barely grazed.

“If you dress like this, I’m all yours.”

For a second, he didn’t know what to say as that was all he wanted to hear. For all of the smooth moves and suave lines, there were the split moments where he radiated nothing but dorkiness wanting to flood out.

“If you keep saying things like that, I might just kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I– I don’t really know.” There it was, eyebrows knit together in genuine confusion.

While he sulked back into the cushion, you placed a gentle hand over his, just gauging the touch barrier. Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind, but rather he intertwined his fingers with yours as he fell deeper into thought. “I wanna go on a date with you,” the admittance had him darting you a quick, hopeful glance. “But, I don’t know how to do this.”

“That’s okay!” He was quick to perk up and make your grimace back a little at his sudden burst in energy. Hyunjin tightened his grip on your hand for reassurance. “I think our expertise just lies in different areas.”

“I’m not following.”

He jutted out his bottom lip with fake sympathy, scratching the underside of your chin. “If you didn’t notice, I’m not the most intuitive when it comes to sex.”

That was a shock. “I dunno about that,” an honest answer that made him shy away with a laugh.

“My experience is incomparable to yours, and not in a bad way! Just, maybe there were some things I was missing.”

You thought back to the moment you had with him, how unsure he seemed when you spoke about sex and masturbation, he seemed truly mind blown and eager to know more. 

“And I can tell, you haven’t had the easiest times with relationships. I think we can learn from each other.”

“This feels like a weird, illegal exchange.” You frowned again. “But I kinda like it.”

His heart raced, yours was beating a million miles an hour. There was a tension in the air that could’ve gone one of two ways. The first being that you pop open a bottle of wine and put on a good movie. There’s chocolate truffles in the cupboard, you could always grab a bowl to have with the wine. Sweet compliments sweet, Hyunjin might enjoy it. Perhaps you could end the night with a kiss, maybe a cuddle if it went that far. You’d see him again, you didn’t have a doubt about it. You’ve got his number now, there’s no more excuses.

The second, was how things actually went.

You mentally thanked your friend for giving you these dim lights for the living room, they made his honey skin look so edible.

Hyunjin doesn’t know when it happened, you don’t know when it happened. Just that there were half finished glasses of wine on the coffee table, the movie long passed the rolling credits, and that you were on your knees between his legs, staring at his cock with the roundest, glitteriest eyes he’d ever seen.

Your bra strap was slipping off your shoulder along with the entire cup threatening to be overflowed by your breast, he wished it would. More than that, he wished you would stop teasing him. All you were doing was tracing the pad of your finger over his slit, collecting the leaking precum and spreading it around the tip. The warmth of your breath splayed over the skin of his pelvis made goosebumps rise across every inch of his skin, giggling as he shivered.

“How did this even– ah, ah– happen?”

Vibrations of your chuckle prolonged his shuddering, “dunno. I’m not upset about it, though. Unless… unless you are?” You backed away from his cock and expression replaced with something dead serious.

“No, no! God, please keep going.” Hyunjin reached out to thread his fingers in your hair, but a quick slap on his wrist made him retreat.

“Nuh, uh. You haven’t earned that yet.”

Hyunjin repressed a groan, “sorry, sorry.”

He felt overly exposed even if you were just as naked as he was, you actually more so than him. The blurred memory of how this even started was brought back when he glanced at your discarded shirt hanging on the armrest of the couch, your house shorts and his white tee in another pile on the ground next to you. His pants and boxers were puddled around his ankles, and that was what made his face burn. Whatever was to happen next, say you wanted him to carry you to the bedroom or pin you against the wall, he’d literally be caught with them around his ankles. It’s a problem he can’t put on to you, but it still made him flustered nonetheless.

You were a few inches from his bare southern region, now, having to sit up taller so that his leaking dick didn’t obstruct from maintaining eye contact with him. “I… really like you,” tone as small as it could go without turning into a whisper.

“I really like you, too.” As antsy and anxious as he was, Hyunjin restrained from bucking into your face.

“There’s something I wanna do, only if you wanna, too. I think you might like it? Y– you can say no! No hard feelings! I just think that I’ll be seeing you a lot a– and you already know what my job is–”

He leaned forward to tip your chin higher, “I trust you.”

Blush covered your cheeks in a millisecond and it made Hyunjin smile smugly. When you turned around to grab your phone on the coffee table and prop it up against the wine bottle, he got the idea. Before you unlocked it, you spun back to face him. “I need you to say that this is okay.” Not that you didn’t trust him, as well, but you have every reason not to. Not just morally, but this was your career on the line if something were to go haywire.

“I am okay with this. Turn on the camera.”

You nodded excitedly, “this is just for us.”

The angle at which you positioned your phone made it so that his face wasn’t showing, only the view of your body between his knees sitting prettily for him. Hyunjin could see the screen and throbbed even harder, he was torn between looking at you and looking at the hottest video you’ve ever made to date. Or, about to make– with him. Even if no one else is ever going to see this, the act of being recorded made him harder than he’s ever been.

Blipping of the recording being started, you settled comfortably again locked between his legs. Hands strolling up the insides of his naked thighs, Hyunjin’s breath grew heavier the closer in you came. He could feel your body heat again as he prayed you would hurry up. The camera couldn’t pick up the way you ogled his cock, the way you licked your lips, or the way you looked up at him through your lashes just as you stuck the tip of your tongue out to gather the bead precum and swallow. Hyunjin let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in and the sound of his sigh made you giggle again.

“Can I?” You asked all too sweetly for what it is you wanted.

“Please.”

“So kind,” praised before he was about to be destroyed.

Absolutely obliterated, total annihilation, earth-splitting and volcanoes erupting the same way he did as soon as your mouth took in the tip of his cock. He blew on the spot, and you sucked him through his orgasm until he was dry and shriveled up with embarrassment. “Fuck– god, oh my– fuck, I‘m sorry! I’m so sorry!” He continued to twitch into your mouth as you licked up whatever remained.

It didn’t even seem to phase you, his premature finish was more than worthy of a few reprimands, possibly making him leave all together and deleting his number. Less than satisfactory. But it made you all the more excited. Where he crumbled is where you saw potential to create skyscrapers of pleasure, all intended to blow his mind.

An easy swallow of his seed down your throat, you kissed the inside of his thighs in reassurance. “‘S okay. I liked it,” honest as honest can be.

“Tell me if I should pull my pants up and leave so I can save whatever dignity I have left.”

“Dignity is overrated. Degradation is a whooole lot more fun. Plus,” showing off his whiteness on your tongue, you licked a stripe up the center of his dick and Hyunjin shuddered again, “you’re really sensitive.”

Hyunjin sat back and let it happen to him, he couldn’t find the strength to so much as tell you when he was about to cum again because it was so painfully good. It didn’t take very long or very much effort on your part, simply having to massage his balls and pinch the skin of his pelvis while your tongue worked minimal magic as you kept him sheathed in your warm, wet mouth. His nails raked across the couch cushion in a way that made you feel a little bad that he couldn’t touch you. Just a little. “Did so good for me. Think you can do one more, baby?”

He was on the verge of saying no, until you stood up. Amidst his plummeting energy and evergrowing sensitivity, Hyunjin didn’t have half the mind to remember that you were just as needy as he was. You were having so much fun playing with him that you almost forgot, as well. The face he makes when he cums is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, you were this close to rutting against his leg like a fucking dog. You’d do it, too, shamelessly. However, you figured you could save that for another day. This was about him. 

You stood, ass taking up the entire view in the camera. You let him watch you strip, unclipping your bra and tossing it somewhere forgotten. Evening the score, you tugged at the hem of his tank top to discard, although you were teetering back and forth on letting him keep it on. Next off was your panties, left along on the floor before you began to climb into his lap.

Oh god, you were straddling him. Really straddling him. Wet pussy on full display, knees spread and so close to his cock that he could feel the dampness on his own skin. Or was that just cus you were sloppy earlier? He didn’t care, nor did he have to try to get hard again seeing as he never went soft.

You didn’t sit fully, hovering over him with the only skin touching being your thighs on his and your arms draped over his shoulder. Hyunjin found comfort in the heat as you wiped away the sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, leaning deeper into your touch. When you dragged your hands down his arms to guide them to hold onto your waist, he struggled not to buck his hips up into you. He thought about how you might laugh when you rewatch the footage later, but Hyunjin couldn’t bring himself to care no matter how ridiculous it looked. He knows that he was rutting into nothing but the air, but the increase in heat when he got close to your cunt was more than satisfactory if you decided it wasn’t what you wanted.

Except you were ready to go for it and was reaching for the side drawer for condoms, even if it meant overstimulating him even more. He wouldn’t protest, he wanted it just as much. “Are you okay?” You asked concerned when he tucked his face into your shoulder.

“Mhm,” he muttered against you, “want you so bad.”

You reached back and between his legs, dragging a delicate finger up from the bottom of his balls to the base of his cock. Hyunjin trembled and molded deeper into your frame. You chuckled, “I can tell, baby. But can you handle it? You’re so worked up already, I don’t wanna break you when we’re just getting started.”

“I can, I can!” He looked up at you with glistening eyes, full of tears and determination. “Please, please, please.” Hyunjin’s hips bucked up again, hitting the inside of your thigh and you pushing him back down.

“Calm, baby. We’ve got all the time in the world. Deep breaths, now.”

Hyunjin followed your lead when you inhaled through your nose and let out a deep exhale. He continued to do so even though you were pressing your lips to his forehead, even though you were trailing them across his cheeks and skipping over his lips. He puckered them, ready to be suffocated by your kisses. But when you planted just a peck on his, he audibly whimpered, to which you laughed and continued down his neck.

Oh, he was extra sensitive there. And when you sat back on his knees to tweak both his nipples? Ascendance.

Hyunjin threw his head back and moaned just as loud as he did when you put him in your mouth. “No, no, don’t wanna cum again,” he murmured, but didn’t try to resist your touch.

Still, you pulled away and placed your hands on his chest. “No? Too much?”

“Wanna make you cum first,” he suddenly grasped the undersides of your thighs and lifted the two of you off the couch. Neither of you had noticed his shins knocking the coffee table as he laid you on your back lengthwise with the couch, lifting your legs up so he could slot himself between them and over his shoulders.

It was a pleasant surprise, his display in strength and stamina, you were proud that he could keep going. The off-guard giggle you let out only spurred him to continue, cupping both your cheeks and stealing the kiss for himself. You couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to as he fit against you so perfectly. Cut through the tension like a knife did the passionate kiss prove to both of you that it was more than just physical attraction. Still, sometimes words do speak louder than actions.

You reached between your bodies to guide him towards your entrance, needing nothing but a moan against his lips to confirm to go further. The stretch was more than you anticipated, burning so euphorically good with a side of neediness for him to move faster. As if you could take all of him in one go, foolish. It’d been a long while since you’d been with someone worthy of sticking their dick in you, this was much different than a plastic toy.

Though, he was worth the wait, even if it did make you pathetically whimper into his mouth. It was just the ego boost he needed, no longer feeling ashamed of his previous poor performance. You still wanted more, you were clawing at his biceps and he was swallowing every one of your moans until his thighs met your ass cheeks.

He wanted to blow for a third time just being inside you, feeling the pulsing of your walls and slick dripping down his balls. Hyunjin used every muscle in him not to begin fucking into you like an animal, brain somehow stronger than the primal need inside him. But while he watched for any sign that you were uncomfortable, trying to be overly vigilant that he wasn’t truly paying attention to see you locking your ankles behind his neck and beginning to fuck yourself back and forth on his cock. His hands were planted near your head, realizing what it is you were doing when you bit your lip and held onto his wrists.

Hyunjin laughed into the air, the kind of laugh as though he had just won the lottery because holy fuck, he did. He watched as you bounced up and down, swiveled side to side, using him like one of your dildos suction cupped to the wall. Except he was the dildo, being used and abused until you felt satisfied. 

“So tight– so hot ‘nd wet. God, you’re so cute, oh my god. Don’t ever stop fucking me, please, please. So good, too good.”

The drip of his sweat from his forehead onto yours broke your cock-induced fever, “why am I doing all the work, baby? You started this, so finish it.” You stopped dead in your tracks and slumped back into the couch.

Hyunjin was more than happy to fuck you silly, if he hadn’t already cum twice and was running on fumes. Alas, he did his best and it was perfectly enough. You had run him ragged for your first time having sex, you couldn’t blame him for being sloppy. 

His best was still better than average, even if his pants were still stuck around his ankles. As he stood up straight and took the hook of your knees into his hands, Hyunjin let his head fall back to summon whatever energy he had left stored in the tank. Surprisingly, it was a lot. He was dripping in sweat, down his temples, neck, and chest and red blush had flushed his supple skin, but he was still the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

He could say the same thing about you. Although your state was less messy than his, you still looked absolutely fucked out and desperate. Teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard he was scared you would draw blood, pinching your nipples and occasionally reaching up to claw at his chest. You and him were both worked up and on the verge of crying like a bunch of babies overstimulated by everything around them. 

Your fingers found their way to your clit once he started to move, fast and unrestrained while trying not to blow before you again. Just perfectly did he fit inside you to the point where you were really questioning how the hell you had sex with other people when he was right there all along. This was nothing like your past experiences, fuck whatever it was Hyunjin thought they were like, this was something else entirely. Like waking up on Sunday morning thinking it’s Monday and being able to blissfully fall back asleep. The day when you have no responsibilities or weight on your shoulders and all you feel is relaxed. When you have nothing to do but wake up at noon to feed yourself then crawl back to bed to loaf. A lover coming home after months apart and being able to inhale their scent like it’s the first time all over again. The first cold day of autumn and the first warm day of spring. He’s Sunday. 

Hips against hips, skin slapping skin, sweat mixing and creating the particular cloud of odor where anyone who walked in would know what the two of you did. Hyunjin would stick his tongue out in concentration to make sure he was repeatedly hitting that spot that makes your eyes roll back and toes curl. He was so good at it that after a while, he didn’t need to hold you up anymore. 

Eventually he let your legs rest around his waist so he could hunch over you again, kissing your lips so sweetly in stark contrast to how hard his cock was prodding into your soft spot. He wasn’t moving roughly, but rather strong strokes that made you really feel his entire length slipping in and out of your aching cunt. Slick sounds of your bodies connecting layered the already adulterous moans leaving the both of you, your neighbors will for sure have a complaint about it tomorrow.

Hyunjin fell onto his elbows, millimeters from your face as his thrusts slowed. The way he looked at you, as though he’d set his eyes on the most sought after piece of art. In a way, he was. Of all the people that have seen you completely bare and beg for your attention, all the people you’ve met, spoken to, kissed, fucked, he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of that because you were under him now.

The almost stagnant nature of his movements wasn’t frustrating or annoying. You enjoyed it, more than any kind of rough or needy sex you’ve had with past partners. He wasn’t touching you like you usually would’ve needed, but still felt the bubble in your stomach wanting to burst. If he kept looking at you like, if he kept kissing you so delicately and fucking you just like this, it will.

His palm brushed the hair from your face, keeping it on the top of your head as if to surround you in purely him. 

“My sweetheart.”

Why was that what had to make the bubble pop? As soon as the words left his mouth and you saw the smitten smile on his face, your legs locked around his waist and nails raked down his back as white heat suffocated your body. You felt his face hide in your neck and latch onto the skin above your pulse, sucking a bruising mark as you came down and it was your turn to be covered in goosebumps. Hyunjin hadn’t realized he’d cum again until you were hugging him tighter to your chest, falling limp on top of you and all the adrenaline finally wearing off.

Nuzzled tight into him until both your breaths were regular and in sync, shutting your eyes while his tongue kitten licked over the sore spots he’d been teething at, neither of you wanted to leave from behind the thin veils of bliss. Though, returning to reality with him didn’t seem so bad.

“Baby, clean up time,” you cooed in his ear, to which you got no response but a soft snore. The giggle that left your lips was hushed to let him rest a little longer. But after a few minutes, the stickiness of the sweat was becoming uncomfortable, scratching his scalp a bit harder to gently wake him. Hyunjin hummed into you as he acknowledged the signal. “C’mon Hyune, shower.”

Wordlessly, he clambered off of you and let you lead him to the bathroom again, stopping in the hallways for towels together so that you wouldn’t have to leave him alone. Similar routine to last time except when it was time for you to clean, he opted to stand out of the shower stream until you were finished because he wanted to stay as close to you as possible. 

And when the both of you were clean, dry, and ready for bed, Hyunjin spoke again as you walked hand in hand into your bedroom. “You called me Hyune.”

“Hm? That’s your name, isn’t it?” You smirked and pulled him deeper into the room. For a second, he took a look around and immediately felt like he’d been here before, comfortably familiar. 

As you guided him towards the bed and lifted the cover for him to slide under, he suddenly woke up from your unintentional trance. “No, Hyune’s a nickname.”

“Is it okay if I call you Hyune?” A soft question as you get into bed beside him, the pair of you shamelessly naked and tangled in one another’s limbs. 

“Yeah, or baby.” You nodded against the pillow, sweeping a hand through his hair again when he rolled on his side to face you.

The two of you stared at one another for what could’ve been minutes or hours, neither of you knew. But you were on the verge of falling asleep as he placed a supple kiss on your forehead. It sparked the small memory of the long forgotten phone that had recorded the entire event. It jolted him awake as well when you suddenly got up from bed to run through the apartment to retrieve it.

Hyunjin was sat up on his elbows when you returned and gratefully took in the sight of you naked once again, feeling light as a feather.

You had ended the recording and pulled up the video to realize it was four hours long. Hyunjin gawked and laughed when he saw the time stamp. He rolled onto his back and opened his arms for you to lay in as you watched the video together.

Everything was just as he’d seen it happening from the beginning until you took off your undergarments. If the both of you weren’t deadbeat tired, it probably would’ve turned you on and sparked a second round. Instead you both could watch it with admiration and fondness.

“Oh, that was so sexy when you did that,” he said in reference to you running a finger across his balls as you straddled him.

“I like when you hold me like this,” you commented about how far and tightly his arms wrapped around your torso.

You both criticized and critiqued the video, only able to find positives to praise one another about until it was time for him to flip the positions. The clip showed Hyunjin lifting you up then standing, and suddenly the table shook and the camera tipped over. The frame showed the opposite end of the couch that you were on, the only thing on screen being the tail end of your lower halves, mostly his ass in the air and your feet dangling in the air. You both burst into a deep gutted laugh and were unable to catch your breaths at how funny the scene looked from that angle.

“Everything was so good!” You joked, pausing the video and zooming in to see his butt in the air.

“I don’t even remember hitting the table,” he admitted while taking the phone and looking closer. “At least my butt looks good.”

“You do have a cute butt.”

“Look at your little feet!” He zoomed into your feet just barely in the upper right corner of the frame.

“Not for free!” Snatching the phone back, you lock it and toss it onto the bedside table.

“I was literally balls deep in you and you’re worried about me seeing your feet?”

“That’s different!”

He rolled his eyes and untucked his arm from beneath your head to lay his own on your chest. “Whatever. I’m not a big foot guy anyways.”

“That thing poking my thigh says otherwise.”

“I can’t even feel my dick right now, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

☆ﾟ

tags: @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star @like-a-diamondinthesky

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids hyunjin #skz #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin angst #hyunjin x yn #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines

[ellecdc]

hear me out - a remus fic but set in come back be here, like maybe a muggle and remus is instantly smitten but has no idea how to navigate but everyone is pushing for him to actually go for it and it’s just chaos but in the best way possible… regardless come back be here was AMAZING

CBBH Remus x muggle!barista gn!reader

(Pretend they have phones for this okay? Thank you lol)

CW: just fluff, swearing, self deprecation, making a fool of oneself - you know, the remus lupin special

Remus would describe himself as many things.

He was a wizard. He was a werewolf. He was a business owner. He was an uncle. He was a friend. He was a war hero.

He was also, apparently, a coward.

He knows this to be true because he’s sat in the same spot that he’s been haunting all week – a chair in the far back corner of the café – pretending to look over ledgers in his notebook while he actually watches you work.

It’s fucking pathetic, is what it was.

He watched as you smiled politely at every customer in line – even the ones who weren’t as polite to you as Remus thought they ought to be.

He felt silly, really, watching you like a creep. He shouldn’t be here to begin with. He had stumbled upon this café completely by accident two weeks ago whilst in the city to pick up more muggle literature to add to his bookstore on Diagon Alley.

It was here he saw you, as if you were a siren calling him to this sodding caffeinated inlet to damn him to hell.

What a willing victim he was. 

But he shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t get caught up with you. It was unthinkable. Most witches and wizards would have a hard time coming to terms with someone like, well, someone like him. 

He was a burden. A risk.

It was selfish to think he could entertain the thought of you.

Suddenly, as if she’d known he was talking poorly of himself, his phone buzzed.

Remus tried to steal himself as he took a deep breath. 

Right Lupin, you’ve done scarier things before. He thought to himself. You’ve run with wolves, you’ve gone undercover into enemy bases, you’ve deceived the dark lord right in front of his slimy fucking face, and you’ve even told Sirius once you thought his hair looked weird. By all means, you can talk to a barista.

Except...well...he really kind of couldn’t talk to a barista. He had made it all the way to the counter, even smiled politely at you as he stepped up to the cash register and...

And then words left him. Failed him. Completely abandoned him. He even thinks there may be a little stickie note in his brain that says ‘resignation effective immediately’ where words should be because he’s staring right at you with your gorgeous eyes and lovely hair and perfect features and for fuck sakes why isn’t he saying anything!?!?!

“Is there something I can get for you?” You asked so sweetly like this bloke wasn’t standing with his mouth agape at your cash register making a sure and utter fool of himself; like you had all the time in the world for the poor bastard.

“Uhm, uh...” He tried finally as if only now realizing he had functioning vocal chords. 

“Uhm, fuck, I’m so sorry uhm...”

You chuckled at him. Holy shit you chuckled at him. It was the most beautiful sound Remus thinks he may have ever heard. He hoped you’d do it again, though, at the rate he’s going it was really very likely. 

“I’m so sorry. I swear I’m not usually like this. Uh,” He apologized awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but I think you’re lovely and would, uh, like to get to know you. You don’t have to say anything now!” He interrupted as you began to interject. “In fact, for my pride's sake, I’d prefer if you didn’t. But I’d like to leave my number here for you, in case you’d like to text me some time.” 

He offered you the kindest smile he could muster as you took the now crumpled and sort-of-damp-from-his-sweaty-palms note in your hand with a smile of your own.

Now, Remus wouldn’t say he ran out of the café, per se. He would describe it as more of a jaunt, or perhaps a brisk walk. But he did nearly take out a woman with a pram as he all but flung the door open in his haste to get away. 

You stupid ridiculous bastard. He scolded himself as he made his way to the closest apparition point. If Sirius could see you know, you’d never hear the end of it.

His phone buzzed and Remus nearly dropped it in his haste thinking it might be Sirius having somehow actually seen what just took place.

Then he nearly dropped it again as he saw a new text from an unknown number.

Perhaps Remus wasn’t such a coward after all.

#marauders come back be here #come back be here one shot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #moony #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #Remus Lupin ficlet #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #reader insert #self insert #ellecdc fics

[starlightervarda]

Favourites of the Musical Episode

Uhura starting all this by beaming Anything Goes at the zipper fold. Nyota, you fucking NERD

Spock straight up not having a good time

Number One and Kirk dancing through the hallways

La’An trying very hard not to sing and running to her room to sing her  gut-wrenching ballad in private 😭

Pike’s general ????? reaction every time the singing happens

The acapella rendition of the opening credits theme

Chapel getting a sexy club number to say ‘lol sorry this proved much more than I can handle I’m gonna go dig up proto-surgical tools byeeeee’  I mean, it’s horrible, and it’s definitely going to fuck with his head that he took this risk and gave T’Pring very good reason to kal-i-fee him now but it’s also...relatable? Girl has serious wartime PTSD and attachment issues and was fine letting this crush just expire in its own time but got too impulsive and shit got too serious because, Vulcan, and she couldn’t ghost him while they were on the same ship.

Spock’s dark, emo pop-rock realization that he should go kolinahr now

Number One’s comforting confession song to La’An and it lifting them off their feet 🥺

Uhura getting her own ballad in Engineering and that bit at the end where she belts and we get the full-view of the section with the lights was 😩👌 babygirl still needs therapy and an emotional support dog tho

The solution to the singing problem being just more singing but a big cast number that overwhelms the zipper fold into combusting like New Years fireworks

The fucking Klingons’ getting roped in at the last second to add their aggro rap-pop boyband tantrum to the cause!!!!

this episode was a 1701 out of 10 great job everyone 

#star trek #Star Trek snw #star trek strange new worlds #spock #Christopher pike #una chin riley #la'an noonien singh #christine chapel #James t kirk #nyota uhura

[cinnamonest]

Lena thank you for the spanking bit, has to be one of fav kinks ever because it just... fits every single yan regardless of who they are??? Kinda like a "universal" thing, just top notch. Do you think we could ever get headcanons for it?

Thank you for this anon, you're absolutely correct it is a top-tier kink

Also I've been wanting to write more about god-era Morax so thank you for the opportunity to do so, I rambled way more about him than the others here sorry lol

As for those who fit the kink best imo I’m going with Childe, Diluc, Ayato and Morax

//major spanking kink material (obviously) but gets kinda bad in severity/intensity, also mentions of hair-pulling, biting, throat fucking, anal, two cocks for Morax again (as always 👌)

--------

Childe is probably the best one here to end up at the mercy of here for once, for the sake of your poor ass at least.

Not that it isn't still awful and painful — he’s a sadist at heart and just adores making you squeal and cry. What at least makes it comparatively at least bearable is that he tends to use his hand — although that does make it more personable, more humiliating.

He tells you, though, exactly what he intends to do. You're being such a little brat today… come over here…

He doesn't even seem angry, but rather excited. He's all smiley and cooing in a way that feels so utterly humiliating and degrading.

Oh, but please do run. Please, please make it so much more fun for him, run away and try to hide. There's virtually nothing in the world that turns him on as much as either a game of chasing you or hunting you down wherever you're hiding. The fact that you're that scared of getting your ass beaten is kind of cute, actually. Are you that sensitive to pain, or is it more protecting your pride that gives you so much resistance? Not that he's complaining or anything.

He'll even give you a very wide opportunity to run, make sure you have plenty of avenues to do so. His heart rate begins to go up seeing the look of realization in your eyes when you spot an opening to run off, and he'll give you a minute or two of a head start. It doesn't take him long to find you nonetheless, hauling you up over his shoulders and carrying you back to your room with obvious excitement, like a predator dragging squealing, still-living prey back to its den for its inevitable fate.

That being said, doing that will make it worse for you — at that point you probably do deserve a belt at least, you know? Regardless of the instrument of choice though, he keeps you bent over his knee — he can feel your squirming more that way, and he can grind his hard-on into your stomach as you thrash around and squeal. Each strike still lands on bare skin, but rather than having your lower half naked, he likes to sometimes move the hold on your back and grasp at the waistband of your panties instead, jerking them up to wedge between your cheeks, effectively holding you in place and baring your skin at the same time.

He's so mean about it, taunts you that same voice you hate so much—

Aw, are you actually crying? Maybe I'll stop if you beg for something else…

There's no set number or standard of how much you'll be punished for any particular offense, which can be more torturous than anything. At least if you were given a number, you'd know how much more you had to endure. Instead, you just lurch and squeal each time his hand or the leather comes down... you kick your legs and thrash about, to no avail. In fact, you're pretty sure it just makes him hornier, you feel his cock twitch and his breathing grow more ragged the louder you cry out, and his hand on your back forces you down harder.

He’s actually totally shameless about getting off to it, too, so you can’t use that against him.

God, you're so cute when you cry like that... squeal louder for me...

The only real upside is that it's usually abruptly cut off at some point once he's too aroused by it to continue, and needs to just bury himself into your holes. You get slid off his lap onto the couch or bed, barely getting any time to recover — still sniffling and whimpering— before being contorted to whatever position he wants and rammed into without warning… thus for once, him being perpetually horny and having virtually no self-control actually becomes a positive. It still doesn't help, though, that the sex makes his hips smack against your sore ass with each thrust, but crying out about that only makes him go harder.

You know it could be much much worse — he makes sure to remind you that he could easily keep going until you completely break down, but he's so nice and you should be grateful for that — but you're still sore, and it leaves a pinkish-reddish tint under your natural flesh tone — something he likes to point out to you later, groping at your ass and laughing when you jolt at the sting. Your nose wrinkled with your expression of disgust as you jerk your head away from him, and you mutter under your breath.

Bastard...

And then, you squeal and lurch forward as one more harsh smack lands on your backside. You try to ignore the chuckling that follows as your eyes well up with embarrassed tears, and you bury your face beneath the covers of the bed.

-------

Diluc’s punishments are awful in terms of pain, but thankfully they're over fairly quickly because it's largely an act of momentary fury and irritation, and once he gets that anger out of his system, the punishment will be over, too.

He's still very intimidating about it, and it doesn't help that it's always a sort of spontaneous thing he decides on in the heat of the moment — thus you see the exact moment you know you've crossed a line, but also know (or at least, quickly learn) that there's nothing you can say or do at that point that will get you out of being punished. His eyes narrow and his voice lowers and he tells you to get over here in a voice that makes you feel like your heart just stopped, and your stomach feels as if it twists into a knot when you see the confirmation of your dread when he takes his belt off.

Running is not advisable — it's not like you'll succeed, and you'll just make him more mad. He's rough with how he handles you, dragging you by your clothes and hair over to bed, counter, or the back of a couch, forcing your head down.

How bad any one particular spanking is varies a lot depending on how mad you've succeeded in making him. He's not merciful at all, so he hits with force based on the level of his frustration. Thus, your attitude is important — you can technically commit a lesser offense, but if you keep backtalking and being bratty and fighting it, you'll likely get a worse punishment than you would for a worse offense for which you were apologetic and submitted to punishment easily.

What does change with the severity of your offense is that if what you didn't isn't so bad, you can keep your clothes on, but for particularly egregious transgressions, even in spite of the heat of the moment, unfortunately, he doesn't forget to pull your clothes up or down and off to make sure you're bared first.

He virtually always uses a belt, much to your dismay, and prefers to bend you over various surfaces since he can strike harder that way. It’s painful, you always end up in tears quickly, begging and pleading and spilling apologies for whatever you did, but he never has any mercy on you.

Much like you can’t get out of it to begin with, there’s also nothing you can do that will make it end any sooner than he feels like it. Over and over, grumbling with each strike about how you’re such a brat, how you can’t just behave, how it’s your own fault, until your flesh is reddened and burning badly enough that even when it’s over, all you can do is slump forward and cry.

If he went really hard on you, he might feel a little bad afterwards, getting you a wet cloth to soothe the burn… but he’ll still remind you that you wouldn’t be lying there all shivering and sobbing if you just learned to behave yourself properly.

For him, it’s more of an actual punishment first and foremost and not really an intentionally erotic thing, at first he’s too mad to think much about the eroticism of it… but seeing you lying there sniffling with your butt so heavily marked and welting, admittedly he does quickly get hard… and he’ll get incredibly flustered and embarrassed if you accuse him of getting off to it.

But be careful — push him too much on that matter, and such antagonism might be grounds for a round two on your already-stinging ass.

-------

Ayato’s punishments are particularly unpleasant, but the thing is that if you're in that situation, you deliberately chose it. Because he's gracious enough that you get a lot of warnings before reaching that point.

If you're being bratty, temperamental, rude, or whatever other behavior he doesn't like, you get a certain look first. The standard half-lidded eyes, unpleased expression, the universal ‘stop that right now’ glare. Maybe a passive aggressive comment if he can slide one into conversation.

If that fails — in other words, if you keep being a brat regardless, deliberately ignoring his warnings — you then get a verbal warning. He'll address you directly if it's just the two of you, but gods forbid you’re digging your own grave by misbehaving in front of others, he waits for a moment where everyone else's attention is on something else before pulling you close in a faux gesture of affection (with a grip harsh enough to ensure you get the message but not enough to alert anyone else in the room to his quiet fury), lowering his voice, whispering directly into your ear.

We’re going to have a talk about your behavior when this is over. Do you understand?

You know by now what a "talk" actually means, and hearing the words makes you stiffen and swallow. Granted, by the time it reaches the point that you've been that bad, you won't escape without at least a few swats, but if you persist, you'll just make it much worse. All you can do is nod your head and wait in dreadful anticipation.

As soon as the company you had leaves, you try to slowly back away, looking for an opening to run, but he has you grabbed by your clothes or hair and is dragging you off before you can even try. The total silence on his end as he drags you over to your room only serves to amplify your dread, and thereby your little whimpering protests.

The primary thing that will make it that much worse is what he uses to punish you, because from the day he brought you home, he anticipated a need for discipline at some point, and thus had a whipping cane custom-made just for you. One of those thin wooden canes designed for no other purpose than infliction of pain and punishment, which he leaves sitting out in your bedroom at all times, making sure it's always within sight as a subtle threat, a reminder of his power over you and that your behaviors have consequences.

He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t get heated, yet somehow that makes it so much worse. He’s perfectly calm as he holds you down on his lap, a hand wrapped into and grasping your clothes on your back to ensure you’re not going anywhere with each sharp pain on your bare skin. He’s very disciplinarian about it, ensuring to emphasize the reason and intention of the punishment itself—

Remember that you had every option of avoiding this. This is only the consequence you deserve. Do you realize that?

You nod and whimper and try to apologize, but it doesn’t make each swat any lighter. He’s rather harsh about the severity too, the degree of pain, duration, number of swats and outright humiliation often feel disproportionate to what is in your opinion a mild offense, although you know better than to voice that thought.

You beg, sure, you cry and whimper and say you'll take any other punishment, but it goes in one ear and out the other, your words have no effect, and while his voice has that characteristic gentleness to it, he's still cold and firm in his reply, if he even gives you one.

You're not getting out of this. Hold still.

He does take care of you afterwards, so lovingly and gently it makes you angry. He reminds you again that it wouldn't have to happen if you behaved, that you have no one but yourself to blame, all while kissing your crying face, holding you close and gently massaging the newly formed welts.

He also likes to make you gauge how many lashes you deserve beforehand, often making the total number a certain multiple of how many times you mouthed off or did something against your rules. And of course, whenever there's a fixed number, he makes you count.

Listening to your voice grow more and more shaky and begin to crack, your speech becoming slurred with sobs and oh, how precious is the sudden panic in your voice when you realize you've lost count. The way you tense and start begging and whimpering when he replies—

I suppose we'll have to start over...

-------

Morax’s punishments are always by far the worst.

That's largely because there's a maddening element of psychological torment involved. It's slow, drawn out, the dread and anticipation are almost worse than the punishment itself. He actually employs a variety of corporeal punishments, each of which make your stomach churn just to think about, but unfortunately, putting you over his knee and beating your ass until there's a deep red hue to your skin is a personal favorite of his.

What makes his style of discipline so unbearable is that you’ll be punished for literally anything. There is no possible offense, no rule to be broken, that won’t earn corporeal punishment of some kind, most usually on your poor ass. You get a very clear set of rules, rules you’re expected to know and obey from day one. Countless little rules, so many of them meticulous and pointless. Things you must do, things you must not do, and rigid standards for your attitudes and behaviors.

Each and every violation is its own offense — not to mention, things like lying when asked about what you did, objecting to punishments, even talking back or trying to defend yourself when accused count as individual offenses too. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’ve broken a rule until he tells you you’re going to be punished for it, and any protest or whining counts as another offense.

Really, you’re lucky if you can go a few days in a row fully able to sit without any stinging pain, and it’s not uncommon for you to earn back-to-back punishments one day after another. You know for a fact that your record of days in a row without ending up laying in bed, whimpering and crying and clutching your backside in pain is a single digit number.

Sometimes, if it’s severe enough, you’ll get put over his knee right then and there, but he’ll also tally up the small offenses and, at the end of the day, punish you cumulatively for every small offense you’ve made, because he can’t allow even the slightest offense to go unpunished.

It’s not limited to things you do in his presence either, because he has ways of finding out everything you do.

Every day that you can't accompany him, he has an established routine for when he returns. Firstly, of course, you're supposed to greet him when he comes in (any attempts to be petulant by giving him silent treatment or hiding away will result in further punishments), but then, as he sits you down, holds you close, he asks you the same question.

Have you done anything you should not have today?

It's a torturous question.

On one hand, you could have very well been very well-behaved, in which case you can answer honestly with at least some confidence (although even then, part of you hesitates thinking maybe you committed some offense unintentionally).

But when you haven't been well-behaved and you know it — that's what's torturous.

It's a gamble. He asks every single day, so him asking itself is not a dead giveaway that he knows what you did. If he doesn't know — well, you might be able to lie and get away with it. Inversely, how unfortunate would it be if you told him, and it turned out he didn't know, and then you had to suffer when you could have gotten away with it?

On the flip side, if he does know — well, you'll soon be squealing like a stuck pig regardless, but things are much, much worse if you try to lie. You would know — you've taken that gamble a few times now and lost.

He seems to have ways of finding out everything — you only lied when you were absolutely confident, thinking there was no way anyone saw the thing you did, only for your stomach to lurch when you feel the soft stroking against your thigh stop, and are met with a low voice—

…Is that so?

And the tone, the way he says it, you immediately know you've messed up.

Of course, you could hypothetically keep denying it, but entrenching yourself further in a lie is, by that point, the worst decision you could make — you would know, you tried that once and you couldn't sit down normally for over a week. The best thing to do now is to confess… you won’t get any mercy or a lighter punishment, but you’ll avoid the additional punishment you’d get for doing anything else.

But even then, he can’t even give you the decency of forcing your body to bend and getting it over with. It has to be drawn out, torturing you to the greatest degree possible — sometimes, he does this by delaying it, telling you he has something else to do first, leaving you to sit around and wait in anticipation for an hour or more. If an offense is bad enough, one session might not even be enough, and you're told that you'll get another one tomorrow, adding to your dread.

But most of the time, the torment comes from forcing your own participation. He keeps you firmly in his lap, reaching down to grope at the flesh where your butt meets your thighs.

What do you think you deserve to have happen to you?

Another test, a question for which you’ll only receive something worse in addition to whatever will happen already if answered incorrectly. There’s only one right answer—

…Y-you should... punish me...

On the bright side, he’s genuinely pleased once you start learning well enough to know what the right answer is.

You’re stood up, guided over to the drawers, hands firmly on your shoulders to ensure you don’t get any ideas about running. You hate that one drawer, it makes your stomach churn just to look at. He has a damn collection for you— leather straps, whipping canes, paddles with holes in them just to hurt that much more. He tells you to pick one.

That, too, is a test— you know which ones hurt more. You're supposed to gauge what you deserve based on the severity of your offense, and he'll be that much more displeased if you go too lightly on yourself, and will consequently be more forceful, which you do not want. Eventually, you manage to make your choice, biting your lip, pointing with a shaky hand, tensing as his hand runs motions that would be soothing in any other context up and down your thigh, pausing to grasp at the fleshy part of your backside.

Then you're led back— sometimes to face the wall or bend over a counter, but most often he prefers to keep you over his lap. Not that you'll be forced down either— not unless you make that necessary, which of course, you do not want. Unless you want it to be that much worse, you follow the commands— pull your robes up, the waistband of any underwear down, bare your skin (always, no matter how mild the offense), lay down on your stomach, put your hands behind your back so he can grasp your wrists.

And even then, even then you have to be tormented further.

Now, what did you do to deserve this?

You recall to the best of your ability, hoping you didn't forget anything, lest you be accused of trying to be deceitful in hopes of escaping consequences, which will add another tally to the list.

It’s painful. It always is. You've reached a point where your resolve to not cry and squeal is defeated pretty early. You used to try your best not to for the sake of your pride, but you know by now that it will go on long enough that your tears and crying out are inevitable.

He manages to somehow be so stoic and calm and yet somehow so, so cruel about it.

Does it hurt?

Your shoulders quiver with little sobs, you go tense as he gropes and kneads at the raw flesh.

Y-yes, it hurts, it hurts so bad, please no more, please—

You cut off with a high-pitched cry as the stinging pain strikes again. And again. And again. It's always so much, so unfair compared to the weight of whatever you did. That slight pinkish undertone isn't quite satisfying enough either, he never stops until there's a deep, deep red tone to your flesh.

If you've been especially bad, you may have to count… but he actually tends to prefer not giving you a set number. You're more fearful that way, uncertain of how much more you have to endure.

You're certain he gets off on the pain for one thing, the sound of your cries and the way you jolt and squirm, but the humiliation is worse than the pain itself, for you. He knows that, revels in it. He's told you before—

You're such a prideful little thing… that will certainly need to be fixed.

Repetitive subjection to something so inherently humiliating and vulnerable, and being made to break down, any semblance of toughness and dignity being torn away at his hands, is a way of slowly breaking down your pride. You know that, it makes you so angry, but you can't help but let that vulnerability be exposed every time, to act in such a way that ensures he knows how badly it humiliates you.

Your go limp with exhaustion when it finally stops.

What have you learned?

You can barely speak, voice hoarse from the strain of your cries and speech muffled by sniffles and sobs.

I'm sorry… I won't do it again…

And then, he has the audacity to be so, so sweet to you. Looking down at your tear-streaked face, smiling— no, smirking, a belittling, amused expression— leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Poor thing.

Kneading at the sore flesh in spite of how the touch makes you wince. As if it isn't his fault, as if he had any mercy on you the whole time you were begging for it to stop.

It only makes you angrier. More than once now, you've earned a second round for how you reacted to his undeserved kindness. So ungrateful.

It's never a solitary punishment either, always coupled with something else, always something equally humiliating and discomforting, if not painful. You know he gets off to it, because the second punishment is almost always a direct sex act of some kind.

You'll take his cocks down your throat, grabbing your skull and fucking your face without any restraint, forcing you to swallow every last drop of seed, even forcing your head down to lick up whatever you spill off the floor. Your saliva just provides the lube to force you to bed and fuck you until you can't even stand, and all the while his hips bounce off your poor ass, each movement stinging against the sensitive flesh. He'll bite your flesh, unnaturally sharp teeth even piercing you skin, leaving you covered in marks. If he's feeling really, really mean, you don't even get the semblance of pleasure of it ramming into your poor sore, raw pussy— you'll take both cocks into your tight little ass instead, a stretch that makes you squeal and thrash and cry. Your legs kick and you lurch forward, desperate to pull yourself off, but you're jerked back with a growl as he slams into you, completely bottoming out. Eventually, you give in as the stretching pain ebbs away and trying to take whatever pleasure you can from the faint stimulation to spots of pleasure through the walls of flesh. But the act is utterly humiliating nonetheless, your hole left twitching and gaping for hours as cum leaks out and onto your skin. You can't even sit for days, both your poor asshole and backside sore and tender.

Your embarrassment and resentment builds. You loathe him for it, feel so humiliated and angry at yourself and how deeply you dread the punishments that it makes you nauseous.

And thus, in one particular incident, fed up and filled with spite, you made the greatest mistake of your entire time trapped with him— you decided to run, seeing that for once you had an opening to do so.

A stupid choice, really. You don't get far. Not even a full ten steps.

You know immediately that you have severely, sincerely fucked up. The sheer harshness with which you're grabbed, the back of your clothes grasped and twisted with unprecedented force, the draconic growl to his voice that makes your blood run cold.

Oh, dearest, you have no idea how badly you've just stepped out of line.

His other hand latches onto your throat.

You're going to be sleeping on your stomach for quite some time, won't you?

The statement alone makes tears well in your eyes, any bitter pride quickly crushed. You shake your head profusely, start begging for forgiveness, but you know in your heart that it's far too late for that… it still doesn't stop you from whimpering and apologizing as you're dragged back down the hall, no doubt to one of the worst punishments you've endured yet.

#man this was unholy levels of degen even by my content's standards #from what little i know i feel like the two new guys would also fit this so maybe ill add them later

[katiexpunk]

Reporting for Duty | Pairing AirMarshal!Javier Peña & Fem!Reader

Summary:  You're a flight attendant. You need to be fucked, and that much becomes all the more obvious when a hot, flirty Air Marshal named Javier shows up to fly your leg with you. That's it. That's the fic.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~6.2K Warnings: Airplanes, reference to a gun/badge/uniformed authority, pet names, unprotected p in v sex, pining/flirting, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), bathroom sex, airplane sex, size kink, creampie, references to the "bend and snap" from Legally Blonde lol, some fluff at the end. Also image above of the flight attendant is for graphic purposes only, there are no physical descriptions of reader apart from clothing. Authors Note: This is a purely self-indulgent fic that I wrote ON A PLANE. Literally, full brightness down on my screen, hoping to god people weren't reading this filth as they walked past me. And to the woman next to me catching glances at my screen, reading your little romance novel, this one is you. Also, the seat I assigned Javier was the seat I was in. As @sydneyinacoma put it ~ when life imitates art ~ ya know? Enjoy.x

Horny airplane sex below the cut.

There wasn’t always an Air Marshal on your flight, but when there was, you knew the routine like the back of your hand. 

It was drilled into your head in training, to always know where the armed passengers are in the event of an emergency. 

They would be brought down the gateway by a gate agent before the flight in order to show their badge to the crew and share their seat number.

They would introduce themselves, share the necessary information, and then get back off the plane to join the other passengers in the general boarding process. 

After your last leg, while the plane is being cleaned, and there is still plenty of time before the next flight, you keep yourself busy in the front of the plane, waiting patiently to meet the Marshal you had heard from the pilot who would be joining on this leg. 

You didn’t expect to lose your breath as the man stepped onto the plane. 

He’s tall, tan, and well-built with dark brown hair dusting his forehead and a well-trimmed mustache. He dressed casually, unassuming like they were all supposed to be, but you nearly feel your knees buckle as you study his simple t-shirt, his tight jeans; and the black jacket that’s pulled taught over his shoulders.

He had to conceal his weapon, but God, you want to pull his jacket off to see where he’s stashed it. You suspect it might be in the waistband of his jeans on his back.

As your eyes travel down his form, your mouth goes dry and you stare – probably less than discreetly – at the front of his jeans.

Oh.

It was only when he walked past you that you realized you hadn’t blinked since he stepped onto the plane.

He went into the cockpit to meet with the pilots doing their pre-flight paperwork. 

You shake your head slightly, taking yourself out of your daze. What was that?

You try to ignore the fluttery feelings in your stomach as you wait for him to come back out. Why are you so flustered, you think to yourself, hoping that you appear normal to the rest of the flight crew.

You spend the next few minutes anxious, chewing your lip, playing with your hair, attempting to look like you’re taking inventory of the soft drinks. But you’re not, you’re too busy internally chastising yourself for acting like an idiot, for not even greeting him, just eye fucking him. 

You walk to the back of the plane, trying to conjure up more time to compose yourself before he comes out to make his additional rounds of introduction. 

He finally comes out of the cockpit and starts to say hello to the rest of the crew, shaking hands and engaging in light conversation with your fellow attendants up ahead. 

He walks down the aisle of the plane, his frame so broad he has to slightly angle his body to make himself fit. You feel your palms get sweaty as you watch him near closer. 

You wipe your hand on your uniform as he extends his out to you.

“Javier Peña,” he says gruffly, giving you a firm handshake. His hands are so much bigger than yours and his dark eyes seem to bore right into you. 

“I suspect this flight will be business as normal, but let me know if you see anything unusual.”

Besides a ridiculously hot Air Marshal? 

You realize you’re still holding onto his hand, and you awkwardly drop it, cringing as you try to laugh it off. 

“Oh! Of course! Yeah, sure – no problem! I will definitely let you know if someone catches my eye. Uh – something, I mean,” you say. 

He looks at you curiously and you wonder if he can hear the sound of your rapid heartbeat. 

“Right. Thank you,” he says, finishing the statement off with your name. 

Hearing your name come out of his mouth nearly knocks the wind out of you. 

“Wait, how did you…?” you question, realizing you never gave him your name.

He raises a brow and glances down at your jacket before making eye contact. “It’s on your name tag.”

“Oh!” You flush as you look down at the small, golden rectangle pinned to her lapel that has your first name engraved clearly in black, uppercase lettering. Name tag. Obviously. “Right…”

He places both hands on his hips and looks at you with amusement.  “Well, thanks again. I’ll be in 37D,” he says, giving you a little wink that you barely register before he’s turned around and heading back down the aisle. 

You feel lightheaded as he moves on, the musky scent of his cologne lingers around you. 

One of your co-workers walks up behind you and shakes her head with a big smile, obviously noticing your fluster from the interaction. 

“Hey, don’t worry about him,” she says.

“What?” you respond, her voice snapping you out of your stupor. 

“I’ve flown with this guy a few times – he can be a bit intense, but pretty fun once you get him to loosen up. No need to be nervous,” she says. 

“Oh, um, I’m not…uh, thank you,” you say, not very convincingly. 

You give her a weak smile and head up to the front of the plane to welcome the passengers beginning to file into their seats. 

When you first started this job, the thought of anyone on board having a firearm did frighten you a bit, but you’ve been doing this job for a while now and it doesn’t bother you anymore. 

X X X X

Everything moves like clockwork, but you feel antsy as the passengers board the plane. You put on your biggest smile and welcome them aboard like you normally do, but you’re waiting for Javier to board. You know it’s lame, but you really just want to see him again. Stupid considering you’ll have six hours in the air with him. 

Of course, he would board when his section when called, just like everyone else, so he’ll be among the final few to file in.  

You greet each passenger with the other flight attendants, a fake smile plastered on your face. Usually, you love your job and your smiles are normally genuine, except for when you have a difficult passenger, but you’re growing impatient. 

It was rare to get eye candy like this on a flight. 

Sometimes there was a guy who you and the other flight attendants would giggle about and argue about whose turn it was to go down the aisle, but never one like this.

Javier has such intense eyes and strong shoulders and you imagine he would so easily be able to lift you against a wall and –

“Hi!” you say a bit too eager as he finally comes on board. You feel your entire body go warm as you attempt to silence your intrusive thoughts. 

“Enjoy your flight, sir,” you say.  

You almost missed it.

The corner of his lips lifts up in a small smile before he turns his head with a quick “thanks” and walks down the aisle.

You didn’t realize, but you bit your lip as you watched him walk away. You could’ve watched that for hours, but instead, you go through your routine as the stragglers make their way onto the plane. You do your final crosschecks and close the plane doors. 

You begin to run through the safety instructions. People never pay attention; whether it was their first flight or their hundredth, most people just glare at their devices as you and your colleagues walk them through the procedures, clicking the unattached seatbelt above their head or pretending to fake blow into the flotation vest. 

People rarely ever pay attention, but you feel a pair of dark eyes trained on you as you continue your demonstrations. 

He has flown hundreds, if not thousands, of times – that’s his job. He was probably just trying to blend in and make it look like he was paying attention. 

You catch his gaze and he gives you another half-smile, and you nearly forget the last step of the safety demo.

X X X X

Time creeps by. By the time the plane takes off, reaches elevation, and the seatbelt lights are turned off, you feel like you want to jump out of your skin.  God, what is wrong with you? 

You hadn’t felt this level of frustration in a long time. 

Maybe it was his eyes or the way he smiled at you. 

Maybe it was the fact he stretched his arms above his head as you wrapped up the demonstration, revealing a little skin on his tummy, and you practically forgot your own name. 

Maybe it was the fact that it was going to be a long flight, and you would have to go down the aisle multiple times. 

Maybe it’s because you haven’t been properly fucked in well over six months, since your last, rather disappointing, hook-up on a layover. 

It’s probably everything.

You look at the thin watch on your wrist, and it’s time to offer the first round of drinks to the passengers. You try to remain calm as you walk down the aisle, politely addressing everyone and handing them their requested drinks. 

Almost to Javier’s seat, you catch his gaze and see him scanning the aircraft until they land on you. 

Did his face just soften or are you just imagining things? 

You feel your pulse quicken as you approach him. 

You turn to the row across from him first, feeling his eyes on your backside as you hand them their sodas. 

When you turn back to him, you freeze, forgetting how to form proper sentences. 

“Hey,” he says, voice cool and nonchalant, like he didn’t just send off a chorus of butterflies inside you.

“Thirsty?”

What the fuck. That’s definitely not what you’re supposed to say, nor what you had intended to. 

“I’m okay, thank you,” the older woman next to him in a pink sweater responds before she puts her earbuds back in and turns her attention to a game of Merge Mansion on her iPad.

You close her eyes in total humiliation before gathering the courage to look back down at him.

“And – and you?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm. 

His mouth quirks up in a smile. Fuck. 

“Am I what, sweetheart?” he says, a flash darting across his eyes, not really questioning, just wanting to fluster you some more. 

He knows. He must know. It was his literal job to be observant and you’re about as transparent as fucking cling wrap. 

“Are you thirsty, sir?” you ask, again. 

“Maybe. What do you recommend?” he asks. 

You feel your heart pounding against your ribs. 

“I like water,” you blurt. 

Stupid, so fucking stupid. Who says water?

He tries to conceal a laugh and says, “Water would be great, thanks.” You curse yourself for what feels like the millionth time this flight as you pour him a blue plastic cup of lukewarm water. He watches you with an amused grin on his face. 

You could hand him his drink and awkwardly walk away, or you could get even. 

You choose the latter.  After handing him the drink, you pull your hand back and accidentally knock over a cup on your drink cart. 

“Oops, clumsy me,” you say, and he glances at the cup on the ground before bringing his gaze back up to your face. 

You give him your best five-star customer service smile before turning around to pick it up. You hold onto the cart and lean over, slowly reaching toward the floor. 

Your uniform was modest and consisted of the same top for each attendant, but women could choose to wear either pants or a skirt. 

You’re glad you decided on the skirt. 

As you grab for the cup, you look back, and the way Javier is openly staring at your ass makes you think he agrees with the skirt verdict. 

His eyes flicker to yours, and he immediately looks away, a clear blush spreading across his face as he stares at his interlaced hands. 

Oh, so he is embarrassed now? Good.

You rise with the cup in hand. You smile at him once more before moving on to the rows behind him. 

He turns around. As you’re grabbing the next set of drinks off the cart, you glance out of the corner of your eye. There’s no doubt in your mind – Mr. Impossibly Hot Air Marshal is definitely checking you out. 

You feel giddy; his job literally involves stealth, but he seems to forget that as you turn your head the slightest bit to meet his eye. He quickly faces forward as if he wasn’t just obviously caught. 

You make your way back down the aisle, walking past his aisle seat, and you feel something brush against your calf.

You turn around to see Javier pulling his hand back to himself. 

His eyes meet yours. You feel goosebumps erupt over your entire body. 

You give him a shy smile, not your over-the-top flight attendant one, and he returns it in full.

A while later, as you bring the food cart through the aisle, you’re still nervous, but slightly less so knowing you’re messing with him too. 

And fuck if it’s not exciting. 

You keep your friendly demeanor up until you get to his row. 

You look at the woman next to him, she’s switched from her iPad to some thick romance novel with a toned and chiseled man on the cover, and you smile before asking if she wants some pretzels or anything for purchase. The woman shakes her head and quickly buries her face back into her pages. 

You then look at Javier and he glances up at you curiously. 

“Hungry?” you ask, lowering your voice in a flirty tone, the question laced with suggestion. With the engines of the plane, you feel safe knowing that only he could hear you. 

“Starving,” he says, dropping his hand so his fingertips brush your leg discreetly. 

X X X X

You don’t have a ton of opportunities to make your way back to his seat, but you take every chance you get. You even found yourself disappointed when another attendant offered to go out to collect the trash. 

You stand at the divider between first and economy class and grin as you see his face. He’s far away, but you can tell he’s disappointed too. 

The hours pass and each time you go to the back of the plane, you both seem to get more daring. 

You were suddenly clumsier than usual, dropping things by him. You make sure not to crouch as you pick them up, emulating your best “bend and snap” from Legally Blonde. 

Javier’s hand reaches higher, even gently squeezing your thigh at one point. 

He’d hit the call light, and ask for tiny things, another cup of water, a pen, headphones even, although he already has his own. 

Anytime you handed him something, your fingers brushed. 

You can’t take it anymore – you feel like you’re going to explode, the irony is not lost on you it’s a result of the Air Marshal. 

You look out the window of the plane, and the sky is turning orange from the setting sun and full of fluffy clouds. Naughty thoughts plague your brain.

His hands are so big. When he squeezed your thigh, you wished his hands were under your skirt.

You think about how badly you just want to rip off his jacket and feel the muscles you know are hiding under the sleeves. 

If it were just you two on the plane, you’re sure you would already have your skirt hiked up on your waist, grinding him for all he’s worth. 

But you’re at work. 

He’s at work. 

And though you’re in public, the thought of him leaves you positively soaked.

Utterly annoyed and beyond sexually frustrated, you excuse yourself to the bathroom in the back of the plane, close to his seat. 

You try to fix the problem yourself, making quick circles on your clit in a desperate attempt to cum, but you don’t make any progress. You quickly give up and sigh, leaning your head against the wall. 

The tiny bathroom is not doing anything to help you get off, no matter how turned on you are. 

Unless…

An idea floods your brain. 

Fuck, you’d be so fired if you were caught. He’d be fired. If he was even interested, that is.

But it’s worth a shot.

You quickly clean yourself up, straighten yourself out in the mirror, and go back out.

X X X X

The flight only had another two hours or so left, and the overhead light would soon be turned off. You and your fellow attendants are set to bring out the last round of water.

You casually stroll down the aisle, smiling and nodding, thinking of nothing other than getting to Javier. 

When you make it to his row, the woman next to him is asleep; the spine of her book is cracked open, the pages facing down in her lap, fully revealing the cover title Dangerous Connections. 

Without asking, you pour him a cup of water. As you hand it to him, you tilt the cup a tiny bit, and a few drops of water land on his lap.

It was only a tiny spill, but you make sure to give your most convincing fake gasp. 

“I am so sorry – here!” you say, handing him the cup before grabbing a few cocktail napkins, pressing them to his thigh, dangerously close to his cock.

Javier freezes. 

“How clumsy of me,” you continue, pretending like you didn’t notice the way his breath hitched at your touch, how his stomach tightened. 

“I hope I didn’t get you too wet,” you say, pulling back, fingers gently brushing against his now-growing bulge. 

Water splashes on the floor as Javier clenches the flimsy plastic cup in his fist, his eyes dark as he gazes up to your face. 

You grin and bend over to clean the bit of water on the floor, and when you look back at him, he has his eyes shut. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is undeniably shallow. 

“I’m very sorry about that, sir,” you say, bending closer to him. 

Javier opens his eyes and tries to say something, but he stays silent. 

“If there’s anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to ask,” you say, the statement once again laced with suggestion. 

He shifts in his seat, and you don’t miss the way he pulls on his jeans, trying to adjust the thick denim to accommodate for the growing lack of space. 

You stand up and pour another glass, taking the moment to let out a shuddering breath. You weren’t sure where all of your boldness was coming from, but you’re proud of yourself. 

You like making him sweat. 

You lean down to him once more and hand him the cup, speaking into his ear, 

“This airline strives to make sure that all of your needs are satisfied, sir.” 

You hear him audibly gulp, and you stand back up, smiling as you walk away. 

X X X X

The sky is now pitch-black, the overhead lights are off, and most of the passengers are asleep.

Now or never.

You psych yourself up to go back to him, but you’re dying.

You’re lightheaded as you bring out the last trash bag, you wonder if you might need an oxygen mask. 

You look up as you make your way down and even in the dim light, you can see his face – his eyes are dark and hungry, and they follow your every movement. 

No, you definitely just need him.

Since most people are asleep, you’re able to move through the aisle much quicker, and soon enough you are once again by Javier, smiling as you hold open the trash bag. 

The screen of the sleeping woman was lit up with the map showing the plane’s progress across the country, and the colors light up Javier’s face as he throws out the napkins, one by one, prolonging your presence.

“I really am sorry about earlier,” you say, not actually sorry, and he damn well knows it.

He doesn’t throw out the last napkin, he simply sticks it in his pocket.

“You’ve been a really good passenger,” you say, suddenly nervous again, realizing what you’re about to offer. 

“Have I now?” He looks unsure, but questioning, like he can’t tell what you’re about to say. 

“I was wondering if…” you trail off. 

He was looking at you in that way and you feel your stomach flip.

“Never mind, I’m sorry, you’re probably busy, so I’ll just – ”

You close the bag and turn to leave, but Javier grabs your wrist, his grab on you gentle but firm.

He whispers your name. It’s the first time he’d said it since the flight started, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse quicken under his grip.  

He doesn’t say anything else, just raises a single brow in a signal to go on. 

You sigh and he lets go of your wrist. 

You bite your lip and play with the bag in your hands. “Since I got – um – accidentally spilled water on you earlier and just because you’ve been a wonderful passenger this evening…”, you look at him and give him a smile. “I was wondering if you would let me personally introduce you to the mile-high club.”

His smile grows throughout your confession and before you let nerves get the better of you and decide to ditch the whole idea, you lean down and whisper, “Bathroom; three minutes.” 

Without letting him respond, you turn on your heels and walk back to the front of the plane. You excuse yourself to the bathroom again and take a deep breath, opening the curtain, and walking straight to the back of the plane. 

The people in the rows behind Javier were luckily all asleep, and you keep your eyes on the bathroom door, not daring to look at him as you pass.

You quickly open the door and slip inside, leaning against the door as it shuts. 

You have three minutes, if not less by now. 

You look at your reflection in the mirror and adjust your hair. You pace around the small space, chewing your lip in anticipation. 

What do you think you’re even doing? This is a bad idea, he’s probably not going to even come. 

But before your mind can convince you to back out, the door slides open. 

Javier steps inside the bathroom and closes the door quickly behind him. 

The rush of the engines seems especially loud in this bathroom, but you’re glad for that. He seems even larger in the small confines of the room, and you realize you’re holding your breath as he engages the lock behind him. 

You lean against the sink and he crosses the small space to you. His arms bracket your body, his hands gripping the counter on both sides behind you. You trail your hands up his chest, finally feeling the thickness of the muscle under his clothing. 

Your knees buckle as he grabs your waist and pulls himself against you, your faces inches apart for seconds before he finally closes the distance as you revel in his solid form.  

He tastes so good and almost immediately, you shove your tongue into his mouth – you’re needy and frustrated and very tired of waiting.

The kiss is sloppy and desperate, but so hot as you tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning as he bites your lip, his mustache tickling the delicate skin on your face.  

You feel something hard bump into your thigh and grin.

“Is that a gun in your pants?” you ask, panting into his mouth, or are you just happy to see me?” 

“Gun,” he torts.

“…oh, you say. 

“But this,” Javier says as he positions his hips and pushes his quickly stiffening erection against your thigh, “is all you.”

You practically squeal in excitement and crash your lips back to his, sighing as his hands trail down your waist and he grabs your ass in a tight squeeze. 

He kisses down your jaw and nips at her earlobe, all hot breath and lust, the sensation causes you to scratch your nails against his scalp, holding onto his shoulder for dear life. 

“I’ve been half-hard this entire fucking flight,” he grows into your ear, grinding his hips against yours. 

You feel your entire body heat up as you shove him against the opposite wall and slide your hands under his jacket, pushing the garment off his shoulders.

It crumples to the floor and you grip his now free biceps, grinning before kissing him again, hot and heavy.

“Then let me take care of that for you,” you say against his lips and you hear him groan. 

You give him one last kiss before pulling away and slowly dropping to your knees in the cramped space. 

“Wait,” he says. 

You pause, your brow furrowed, wondering if he was going to ask you to stop. 

He reaches by his side, unholsters his gun, and sets on the little ledge next to the sink.

You didn’t want to admit it, but knowing he is the only person with any real authority on this plane turns you on. 

“Sorry, go on sweetheart,” he asserts. 

You go back to the job at hand, popping open the button on his jeans before dragging the zipper down, moving rather slowly, enjoying how fidgety Javier is.

You grab the waistband of his boxers and jeans, pulling them down all together in one movement.  

You could tell he was big when you felt him pressed up against you, but holy fuck.

Your thighs clench in anticipation, your panties growing more soaked by the second. You can’t wait anymore. You take his length in your hand and slowly move your hands up and down.

Javier nearly slams his head back into the wall and you see him bite his lip, stifling a groan.  

You bring one hand down to cup his balls and the other teases up the side of his shaft, thumb ghosting over the red and weeping head.

A bead of precum forms at the tip, and you dart your tongue out to lick it. 

Even over the roaring engines, you hear his sighs, and a rough “fuck, baby.”

You trace your tongue under the underside of his cock, before giving the tip a kiss.

Javier’s fists intertwine with your hair, slightly tugging on it as he reflexively thrusts forward. You firmly grip his hips and hold them in place as you take him into your mouth. His hands remain fisted in your hair as you bob up and down on his cock, relaxing your jaw to take him as far as you could, bringing your hands back down to do the rest. 

You suck and suck, and suck, working him through moans, until you decide to pull back with a satisfying pop. Seeing him rock-hard, and the taste of his skin has you soaking for him. You need him to fuck you. 

You stand up and Javier cups the back of your head, pulling you in for a deep kiss. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Do you have a thing for flight attendants, Marshal Peña?” You tease, already fighting with the material of your skirt so you can pull it up around your waist. 

You know your job was a turn-on for a lot of guys, and the humor of an air marshal having a kink for it wasn’t lost on you. 

“Do you have a thing for Air Marshals, Ms. “oops sorry about that,” he says, grabbing your skirt and hiking it up, before pushing you up against the sink and hiking your thigh up his side.

You angle your hips and feel his fingers curl around the cotton material of your underwear, and he drags them off in one swoop. 

For a quick second, you wish you’d worn something sexier, but clearly, it doesn’t matter because they’re ruined anyway.  

Javier’s mouth is at your throat, and his large fingers make their way to your core, where you need him the most before he drags them through the slick coating of your folds, one eventually slipping inside your wet and waiting hole. 

You bite into his shoulder to muffle your moan and grind against his digits as he works to add a second finger, skillfully stroking and curling them inside you. 

He pulls his fingers out and you whine at the loss, but then he brings them to his mouth, sucking your slick from his fingers.

“I told you I was hungry,” he says, both hands now massaging your thighs. “Think you can help me with that?” 

You whimper as you nod, the back of your head hitting the mirror as he kneels into position, trailing soft kisses up your inner thigh.  

“Javier, fuck, please,” you beg. 

He slides one hand up your body and you take a few of his fingers into your mouth, stifling your loud moans as he licks a trail up your center, his tongue darting in and out of you, lapping at you like you’re his final meal.

Your hands card through his hair as you suck on his fingers, pulling hard with your teeth as his tongue works against you, his nose ghosting your clit. 

He removes his fingers from your mouth and returns the length of them back inside you, and moves his tongue up to your throbbing clit. 

You’re so close, but before you can come, he pulls back, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and grins up at you. 

You grip his shoulders, trying to pull him up, but Javier stands up and suddenly tucks his hands under your thighs, picks you up, and pushes you back against the first wall.

You were right – he had no problem lifting you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, panting as you feel the tip of his hard cock teasing your slick entrance.

“Oh God – Javi-”

The rest of his name is cut off as he lowers you onto his length and you nearly cry out from the stretch of him, but you nuzzle into his neck to keep quiet.

Holy shit; he feels better than you imagined as you slide down fully on his wet thickness, taking him in fully, moaning as he nips at your throat. 

“Javi – Javier,” you moan into his ear, begging him to move, to just take you.

He starts slowly as he positions you in his arms, then picks up his pace, grunting as he begins to pound into you. 

“Gonna fucking wreck you,” he says through a moan, “ugh, so fucking tight, Cariño.” 

The pet name causes your walls to clench harder around him. 

You are both already so close to the edge, your crawl to the cliff of your orgasm turns into a sprint as he fucks you against the wall. 

You bite his neck, whimpering into his ear, and beg for him to fuck you harder; faster. 

He obeys, your skirt and jacket riding up against the grainy surface of the wall as you try to find something to hold on to – his hair or shoulders – but all you can focus on is how hot he feels, how well he fills you, and how this is undoubtedly the best fuck you’ve ever had. 

“fuck – sh-should I pull out?” he asks, his brow furrowed. 

“N-no – I’m on-” you gasp as he tilts his hips, continuing to thrust into you at a new, perfect angle. “The pill,” you finish, bringing a hand down to your center to touch yourself. You can tell Javier is nearly there, just holding back for you to come first.

“I’m-” He pants, bouncing you against him to let you finish first.

“Javier,” you moan, your head falling back against the wall as waves of pleasure course through you, your vision going white, hooking your ankles behind his back as you ride him out. Your orgasm builds in waves and continues to wash over you as Javier buries himself within you. His groans are soon to follow, and he lets hot ropes of cum fill you up, still with a bruising grip on your thighs. 

You breathe together, your chests falling and rising rapidly as you look into each other’s relaxed, sedated eyes.

“What the hell was that?” Javier asks, that ridiculously attractive smile on his face.

You shrug lazily against the wall and grin down at him. “I don’t know – I guess I have a thing for air marshals,” you say, and wink at him. 

Javier laughs as he gently pulls out and then places you back on the floor, your legs still shaking; he places a hand on your hip to steady you. 

“You know, you make it impossible for a guy to do his job around here,” Javier says, grabbing his jacket off the floor and tucking himself back into his jeans. “You weren’t exactly making things easy for me, either,” you smile as you start to collect toilet paper in order to clean up the cum dripping down your thighs. 

“What was I supposed to do? Not follow you? I’m pretty sure that would make me the biggest idiot on the planet,” he says. You can’t help but to kiss him again. It’s soft, and the warmth of it extends down to your feet. 

You’re both silent as you finish cleaning yourselves up. Once you look like you hadn’t just fucked each other's brains out in the airplane bathroom. 

“Okay,” you say, turning back around from adjusting yourself in the mirror. “I think I should go out first, then you wait a few minutes, then come out after me.”

“Good idea,” he confirms. 

You’re about to unlock the door when he calls out to you. 

“Wait...”

You turn around and his lips are on yours, giving you one last lingering kiss before you leave. 

You smile as you slip out the door. 

X X X X

The cabin looks just as you left it, and anyone who was awake was turned away from you.

You take a deep breath and make your way down the aisle, worried someone might be able to read your mind.

You feel better as you peek through the curtains and watch Javier sneak out of the bathroom. 

You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your throat and you sighed as you stepped away from the curtain.

X X X X

Soon after, the pilot’s voice comes over the speaker to announce your descent. The overhead light comes back on as people wake up slowly and you and your fellow attendants walk down the aisles, instructing people to put on their seatbelts or push their tray tables up.

You avoid going to the back because you don’t know what to say. Now that it was over – would you talk again? Would you even see each other again? Not likely.

Would he just pass you on the way out without even saying goodbye?

No, that didn’t seem like something he would do.

Maybe it was only meant to be a one-time thing, but you don’t want it to be. As you and the other attendants buckle into your jump seats for landing, you chew on your lip and dread the next 20 minutes.

The plane lands and taxis to the assigned gate. The seatbelt sign clicks off with a chime, and eager passengers fill the aisle and grab their luggage, slowly beginning to make their way off the plane. 

Like with boarding, you are distracted, spending most of your time trying to look over people’s heads to find Javier’s, but you can’t see anything.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the line began to thin and the last few people stepped off the plane.

Javier was last.

The other attendants make their way to the back of the plane to begin picking up a few things, but you stay behind, awkwardly looking around as Javier comes up to you. 

“Uh…” he begins.

“Um...”

You both grin at each other, not sure what to say.

“I want to say goodbye,” Javier says. 

“Goodbye,” you say quietly, realizing how sad you feel.

To your surprise, he leans over, gives you a kiss on the cheek, and slides something into your palm.

He steps off the plane, and you watch him turn down the jet bridge and disappear. 

You look down at your hand and see a wrinkled, folded napkin.

You smile as you remember he saved one. 

You open the napkin and see a phone number written in blocky letters. 

Under the number was a message. 

See you at the club next time, Cariño. 

END

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[seeingivy]

the scouts

roommate eren x f!reader 

eren’s hometown friends have a lot to say. vis a vis you. 

**find the series masterlist here

content warning: galliard slander, irritable bowel syndrome, mikasa don’t gaf, connie and sasha are thieves, lying??, carla yeager being a sunshine, eren being a cheeky little shit, laxatives 

an: alright. feast my children. pls keep ur little memes and drawings and funny comments coming bc I love them (and they incentivize me to write chapters faster so I can seem more of them LOL) - also @togemayo and @rebeccawinters your connie and reiner cameos have ARRIVED, love you da mostest 

previous part linked here

- 

“There’s no way in fucking hell you called me about this. I am a grown man, with a child. I’m above stupid shit like this.” 

“Fuck you, Galliard. Pieck would help me with this, you know that.” 

“Then call her. I’m going to block you.” 

“You don’t think I tried that? I would never willingly talk to you, like ever. Please, Galliard, just tell me what to do.” 

“Twerp, you’re giving him a necklace, not proposing marriage. You’re not going to look desperate if you walk to a fucking soccer field and just to give it to him.” 

“Okay. Are you sure?” 

“I’m hanging up now.” 

“Like really. You’re not just saying that, are you?” 

“Don’t call me unless you’re dying. And even then, you better have tried every other person you know before you ever dial this number again.” 

Static. Fucking asshole hung up on you. 

Eren has a soccer game today. He’d let you know early on in the week that he wouldn’t be here to make breakfast for you on Friday because his family and a few of his hometown friends were coming to watch the game. Apparently, this game was a really big deal - some type of rivalry type thing with another university. 

You weren’t going. Obviously. You had stopped going the second Hitch took your jersey, because it was too embarrassing to think about going now. I mean what are you even supposed to wear now? And what’s the point of going if Eren’s with her and she’s going to be there? 

Yet here you are, waiting in the line outside of the stadium. Everyone around you is decked out - forest green shirts, face paint, streamers - and you can already tell that this game is way more intense than the ones you had been to. In the past, it would be you and maybe five other people in the stands, spread out doing homework. But this game looks like it’s going to be packed. 

All the more reason to do this. 

to jean-boy

you: hey. are you at the game today? 

jean-boy: yeah. on the field with min. they’re all warming up. 

you: i didn’t realize this game would be such a big deal lol. 

jean-boy: yeah. I think everyone’s kind of anxious. eren hasn’t made a single goal all morning and he’s getting more pissed each time he tries 

you: doesn’t help that he left his necklace at home 

jean-boy: the key necklace? did you bring it? 

you: yeah. that’s why im here. i remember he said something about like he always loses games or gets hurt or something when he doesn’t wear it. thought i’d bring it so i don’t have to help him to the toilet when he breaks his legs or smth. 

jean-boy: meet me in the back. ill let you in so you can give it to him. 

You awkwardly wait in the back of the stadium, teetering on your heels as you wait for Jean. You’re just giving him his necklace. It doesn’t mean anything. He won’t know that you like him because you’re just giving him his good luck charm. You’re being a good friend. Anyone in your position would do this. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi Jean.” 

“What are you wearing?” 

You look down, only now paying attention to the outfit that you were wearing. You didn’t think it was that bad - black jeans and a blue cardigan. 

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” 

“You wore the rival's colors.” 

“Okay? Arrest me, Jean.” 

“No, it’s like a thing. You can’t wear the rival's colors. Armin and Eren are going to make you change the second you get on the field.” 

“You guys are so superstitious. It’s just a shirt.” 

He shakes his head as you both walk through the door, pacing across the turf as he sets out to look for Eren. All the players are running on the field, kicking balls in between each other, hitting them into the nets. You spot Eren at the end, his head in his hands as he talks to Armin on the side. 

“Hey. Found him. You can go back, I’ll just give it to him and leave.” 

He nods, leaving your side as you make your way over there. You walk up just in time to catch the end of Armin and Eren’s conversation, your ears burning. You shouldn’t have come. 

“How do you know you love Annie? Because, sometimes I think I love her, Armin.” 

You can pretend like that one didn’t sting. You clear your throat, the two of them turning their backs to look at you. You watch Eren’s eyes nearly boggle out of their sockets as Armin drops the water bottle he was holding, at the sight of you standing there. Armin awkwardly walks away as Eren walks up, his eyes still flashing in shock. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” 

“How much did you hear?” 

“None of it. Did I miss something important?” 

You see his shoulders relax, pushing out a sigh of relief. First he calls you his best friend and then he can’t even tell you he thinks he might love Hitch?

“Yeah, you almost heard about my murder plot. It all started that fateful day, when I let you move into my apartment.” 

“That was months ago. Surely the opportunity must have presented itself. Knife to the back in the shower…smack me across the head with a frying pan…” 

“I’m playing the long game. You’ll never see it coming.” 

You both laugh, with you rolling your eyes as the silence settles around you too. You can see the stands filling up at your sides, the anticipation building in the stadium. 

“Um so-” 

“What are you wearing, Y/N?”

“We’re not doing this, Eren.” 

“You have to change. Like now.” 

“I’m not walking around in my tank top, Eren. It’s cold. And I’ll leave anyway, I just came to give you this.” 

You hold the key necklace up, dangling it between the two of your faces. You watch his eyes light up as he takes the necklace from your hands. He then cups your face in his hand and presses a kiss to your fucking forehead, before putting his arms around you and spinning you in the air.

“Oh my fucking god, thank you. You brilliant, brilliant girl. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ve been missing goals all morning.” 

Your brain is malfunctioning. You’ve literally picked up Eren from parties in the dead of the night and he’s barely even said thank you when you did that. This is all it takes? A fucking necklace and he gives you a forehead kiss? 

He sets you down, still flashing you a bigger than big smile as he latches the necklace on. 

“You’re not missing goals because you weren’t wearing the necklace.” 

“Yes. I was. We’re not having this argument right now, especially when you’re wearing that. I have something you can wear.” 

You hear Armin walk up, holding two jerseys in his hand. 

“Way ahead of you. She can wear mine or yours. Everyone else put their spares in their lockers already.” 

“Mine. Thanks Armin.” 

“Don’t tell me you believe in this too, Armin?” 

“Just put it on. If you don’t, Eren will blame you if the game goes wrong.” 

Armin walks away, leaving the two of you standing again. Eren’s holding the jersey out in front of you, waiting for you to put it on. 

“Full disclosure. I will blame it on you, if we lose kitty.” 

“It’s just a color.” 

“No. No, it’s the principle. Think about it. My girl can’t be wearing the rival colors on our sides of the stands. That’s just a bad omen..like we’re asking to lose the game or something.” 

My girl. 

“I’m leaving, Eren. I just came to give you the necklace.” 

He puts his hands on your waist, spinning you around to turn you towards the stadium, where everyone was sitting. He leaves one hand on there, his other sliding down to your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” 

He lifts your hand up, shaking it in front of the stadium. 

“This isn’t the time for a puppet show, Eren.” 

“Look at the second row, towards the middle.” 

You squint your eyes, scanning the entire row. And then you fucking see it. Eren’s parents and his brother. He’s making you wave at them. And they’re doing it back, nearly jumping to return the gesture.

“Eren.” 

He spins you back around and he fucking smirks at you. 

“You waved at them. Now, they’re going to expect you to go sit with them. For the entire game, mind you. Meaning you’re staying, so you should put it on.” 

Asshole. 

“Unless you want to leave my mom hanging?” 

“Give me the jersey, Eren.” 

He flashes you a winning smile, clearly delighted with his victory. You unbutton the ends of the cardigan, slipping it off and switching it with Eren’s jersey. He reaches forward, pulling out the ends of your hair that were tucked into the jersey as you smooth it against your clothes. 

“So.” 

“So.” 

“Win your game or whatever. Without the help of your stupid necklace.” 

“Planning on it, peaches. Necklace and all.” 

He pokes the side of your cheek and flashes you one last smile as he runs back onto the field, right in front of the goal. You watch as he centers the ball in front of him, kicking it into the net on the first try. He turns to the side, pointing at you after making the goal, as he mouths four words.

I told you so. 

- 

You tap Zeke on the shoulder, the three of them turning their heads towards you. 

“Hi. Mind if I sit with you guys?” 

The three of them jump up - Grisha shaking your hand very excitedly, Zeke crushing you in a hug, and Carla cupping your face in her hands, pressing a kiss on both of your cheeks. 

So this is where Eren gets it from. 

“We’re so excited you came, sweet girl. We were hoping you would find your way over here when we saw you on the field.” 

You nod, Carla squeezing your hands in hers (another thing Eren gets from her, you’re sure of it). You settle in the seat next to Zeke, brushing your sweaty palms against the ends of your pants. You can see the game is starting as they all take their places on the field, Eren giving the four of you one last wave. You look at the group of people seated directly to your right, the four of them waving back at him too. 

And then you remember. Eren’s hometown friends came down to watch his game. 

You take in the sight of the four of them. You can recognize the girl at the end, farthest from you. Mikasa - Eren’s childhood best friend, the two of them and Armin were inseparable. The two in the middle you recognize as well, from the polaroid that Eren had in his wallet. They’re both arguing with each other - with him pulling her hair and her elbowing him in the sides. The fourth boy is entirely unrecognizable to you - broad shoulders, short, messy blonde hair. 

You tap him on the shoulder. 

“Hi. You’re one of Eren’s hometown friends, right? My name is Y/N. I’m his roommate.” 

At the sound of this, the four of them turn their heads, turning to face you. 

“His roommate? Since when?” 

“Yeah. We’ve been living together since the start of the semester.” 

“Reiner, there’s no way in hell right? He kept going on and on about how he was going to finally have a bachelor pad this semester.” 

“There’s no fucking way. He literally hated having a roommate. Remember when he threw up on Samuel’s bed on purpose when he was drunk?” 

Mental note, Reiner’s the one with the blonde hair. The three of them turn their heads towards Mikasa, who's still watching the game. You’re not sure when she showed up, but Annie’s sitting at her side - the two of them linking their arms together as they sit. Right. She must already know Mikasa since her and Armin have been dating for a while. 

“Mikasa. Did you know about this?” 

“He may have mentioned it once or twice to me, Connie.” 

Buzzed hair is Connie. Connie and the girl in the middle open up the space between them, gesturing for the two of you to sit between them. You don’t miss the look they give each other as you sit down, the two of them smiling deviously. 

“I’m Sasha.” 

“And I’m Connie.” 

“It’s nice to meet you guys, really.” 

They both smile, linking their arms with yours as they start staring at you more intently. 

“Say. Do you mind answering a few questions for us?” 

“Sure.” 

“How did Eren become your roommate?” 

“I kind of had these sucky roommates last semester. They kind of didn’t mention that they didn’t want to room with me anymore so I kind of switched around at staying at my friends place while I tried to look for an apartment. I couldn’t find one after a week and I met Eren at Armin’s and he offered.” 

You watch the three of them, Reiner leaning over now, widening their eyes at you. 

“He offered? To house you, a woman, another person, in his apartment, willingly?” 

“I mean, I think so? I think he might have felt bad or something. I’m not really sure why he did it.” 

“I might have an idea.” 

At Reiner’s comment, the three of them start giggling, like they’re all in on some joke you’re not quite sure of. 

“Do you like Taylor Swift, Y/N?” 

“I do, Connie. Is it that obvious?” 

You feel Connie shaking your arm, nearly jumping out of his seat. 

“Me too. What’s your favorite album? Favorite song? Folklore or Evermore?” 

“Probably, Reputation. For the song, I think maybe Sweet Nothing? And definitely Evermore over here.” 

Reiner reaches over and smacks Connie on the back of the neck, mentioning he was getting off track. Off track of what? 

“Say. Have you ever…played Taylor Swift for Eren or something?” 

“Um, not exactly playing it for him but I kind of have a tendency to sing in the shower sometimes. But also, he did willingly watch the Reputation Stadium Tour without me prompting him to, so I think it’s growing on him.” 

At this, Connie and Sasha lean over, their faces a few feet from yours. 

“I fucking knew it. That playlist is about you.” 

“What playlist?” 

You watch Reiner pull out his phone, opening out his Spotify app. The three of them are still smirking - the same way Eren did when he trapped you into staying at the game. 

He hands you Eren’s Spotify profile, with exactly one playlist on it, called peaches. The picture is the one from when you and Eren went to see Kenny in the city, only your hands in view as you pet the cat the two of you saw on the street. 

You scroll through the playlist, with well over a hundred songs - most of them being Taylor Swift. They are organized by album, a few songs picked out from each one. Meaning, Eren went through each album and picked out the songs that he liked. Just because you said you liked Taylor Swift. I mean, it did have to be about you. It is called peaches. 

“So. Is it about you?” 

“Uh, yeah. I think so, Connie. Those are my hands. And he calls me peaches, because of my shampoo.” 

Mikasa leans over, interjecting in the conversation. 

“Did he make you switch it? The shampoo?” 

“Uh, no. I think he likes it?” 

“Hm.” 

Mikasa leans back, sharing a look with Sasha. 

“Is that a big deal or something, Connie?” 

“Kind of. Eren got really bad food poisoning from some peach flavored concoction Reiner made him once in high school. The smell makes him want to like vomit.” 

“It wasn’t a concoction, it was a protein shake. How was I supposed to know that dragon fruit was basically a laxative?” 

“We all told you. Like six times.” the three of them respond, rolling their eyes. 

Sasha and Connie unlink their arms from yours, turning their attention back to the game. The four of them interject once in a while, lost in their own conversations, but your head is still buzzing from the one that you had with them. 

Eren has a playlist. That he made for you. He spent hours probably - listening to each song, picking out the ones he liked. 

“Say. Did Eren ever mention us?” 

“Hm. Well, I knew about Mikasa - Armin and Eren have both mentioned her. And I’ve seen a picture of the two of you before, Eren has one in his wallet. But no Reiner, never mentioned you.” 

“We have his wallet.” 

Reiner taps Zeke on the shoulder and pockets the wallet from him. Sasha and Connie reach over, pulling out the dollar bills first - equally dividing the cash between the five of you and stuffing her share in her pocket - before returing it to Reiner, who pulls out both polaroids. 

This is when you realize your mistake. Because the polaroid of you kissing his cheek is still in his fucking wallet. You watch Reiner pull it out and hold it out in front of Connie and Sasha, the two of them shaking you in their arms as they all scream in your ears. 

“You guys are so cute! We fucking knew it. When did you start dating?” 

At the sound of that, you see Carla turn her head out of the corner of her eyes, slightly shuffling over to see what you two are talking about. And then your mistake gets even worse. Because then Carla runs over, kissing you twice on the cheeks again and literally bursting out of happiness at the news. 

“Oh, I’m so happy for you two. I knew something was going on. And I even told Eren, he better get a move on because a girl like you doesn’t stay single for long.” 

“You would be shocked, Mrs.Yeager.” 

She takes her hands into yours, squeezing twice again. Fucking Yeagers and their hand squeezing. It’s almost impossible not to like them. 

“Take care of our boy, okay?. He’s really sensitive and emotional, which I’m sure you know already but he means well. Really. And let him take care of you too. He’s told me that you’re a little bit more closed off at times, but he would never hurt you. He cares about you, so so much. It’s you two, on the same side, always.” 

And you can’t do it. You can’t tell her the truth because…she’s just so excited. So happy for the two of you. The way she’s holding your hands in hers, kissing your cheeks, doting over you. She’s so excited that it’s you. You don’t want to be the one to tell her that her son has no interest in you. 

So you don’t. 

“I will. Take care of him, I mean.” 

She smiles widely again, crushing you in your arms as he gives you another hug. 

Now you have to find Eren. And tell him that you just told your mom that the two of you are dating. 

-  

You find him at half-time, outside the locker room. He’s lying on the bench with two of his teammates, ice packs pressed to each of his foreheads. 

“Ren?” 

He immediately sits up at the sound of your voice, pulling the ice pack off his head as he stands up. He gestures towards the walkway, the two of you walking back down to the stadium. 

“Everything okay, kitty?” 

“Uh. I might have messed up.” 

He stops, turning to face you. 

“What did you do?” 

“Promise you won’t be mad, Ren?” 

“I could never be mad at you. You know that.” 

Right. Okay. Just tell him. That’s when you start rambling. 

“Well. I met your friends - they’re really nice. Connie and Sasha stole some of your money, though. And Reiner was basically telling me about how he gave you Irritable Bowel Syndrome with a peach smoothie he made you, which is weird because you call me peaches but they were insisting that you hate them. Right, so I told them that you keep a polaroid of them in your wallet - because it’s so cute and I would want to know if I was them -  and then they pulled your wallet out and the other polaroid was still in there. And then your mom saw and she was just being so…so sweet that I didn’t have the heart to tell her we weren’t really together.” 

He’s staring you down. Green eyes, forehead scrunched up, lips in a straight line. Stop paying attention to his fucking lips. 

“So. Let me get this straight. You told my mom that…we were dating?” 

“Yes.”

“That’s it?” 

“What? 

“I thought you killed someone or something. That’s not a big deal.” 

“How is that not a big deal? I just lied to your mother. And told her that we were dating.” 

“Yeah. I’d probably do the same thing if I was in your position. She probably gave you that whole lecture right, about how we need to take care of each other, how I’m all sensitive and emotional?” 

You’ve got to be kidding me. 

“Yeah. How’d you know? 

“She gave me the same one after she met you. Even I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t dating you. I just told her I liked you, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Okay. I was like freaking out about it.” 

He locks his fingers with yours, squeezing twice as the two of you continue to slowly walk. 

“It’s okay. I’ll deal with her. She just really likes you, that’s all. They all do.” 

“Okay. You sure it’s okay? You’re not secretly mad at me right?” 

He looks over, giving you a lopsided grin, the one that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Really, kitty. I could never be mad at you. And I know you. There’s nothing nefarious going on up here.” 

He takes his fingers, tapping on your forehead. 

“How do you know? This could all be a part of my secret plot to be the new Mrs. Yeager.” 

“Bullshit.” 

You nudge into him, making him stumble to the side as you both make it to the front of the stadium. 

“And why’s that?” 

“Because. You wouldn’t need a secret plot if that’s what you wanted.” 

He taps the end of your nose before lifting the bar to run back on the field to finish the game, leaving you more confused than when you arrived here.

Stupid Galliard. He always gives terrible advice. 

- 

next chapter linked here

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#WOOP WOOP #alright yall buckle in next chapter is one im excited for #roommate eren #seeingivywrites! #eren jaeger #eren fluff #eren x you #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #snk x you #snk x reader #snk x y/n #eren jeager #eren jeager fluff #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager #eren #snk eren #read more break

[ranhaitanisgf]

Hi 👋. Can I have “enemies to lover” and “stuck together” head canons with Ran. They get handcuffed together by their friends. And are forced to spend the day together. And they both realize they aren’t as bad as they thought. Since they were only ‘enemies’ due to some misunderstandings. Maybe reader has to go through her schedule and Ran just in a forced to tag along. So they go grocery shopping, he sees her taking care of siblings, etc. Ran teases her a lot as well. Thanks!

— ran haitani // enemies to lovers // stuck together

[𖤐] haii i once again just cranked this out w/o thinkin abt it sawr. idk !! i am so tired rn i cant even tell if this is good but wtv lmk if its good or not lol. i hope you all enjoy xoxo !

wc ; 1.8k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

❥ when you felt something cold and metal click on your wrist as you were getting ready to leave school, you were certainly not expecting to come face to face with ran haitani, and you were especially not expecting for the thing around your wrist to be a pair of handcuffs, the other end being attached to his own wrist. when you glanced at the people next to him, you could only sigh, seeing his brother and your best friend grinning devilishly, (you swore you’d only seen that look on rindou’s face when he was beating someone up, which seemed unlucky for you somehow). 

“can you guys stop fucking around and take these off? i have things to do.”  “heyyy, that’s so mean to me, (y/n)! i’ll come by your place and take them off at the end of the day, but for now they’re staying on! you’ll thank me later!”  “what?! get back here-! ugh, already gone…” 

❥ you stood there for a few moments, wondering if you should just drag ran along with you and chase after the pair until they let the two of you go. you’re not really concerned about whatever is on ran’s schedule for the day, but you’re more worried about how you have to get all of my responsibilities done. you have to go to the grocery store, pick up tonight’s dinner, cook dinner, help with your sibling’s homework, do your own homework, and one of them ask for you to bake something for their school? that was also going to take time, but maybe-

“hellooo, earth to (y/n)? you there?”  “yeah, i was just thinking. you heard of it?” “guys would probably like you more if you were cute instead of so aggressive, y’know~”  “do you ever shut up about stupid shit for more than two seconds? you know what, don’t even answer that. i have stuff to do that’s more important than your stuff, so let’s go.” 

❥ on the walk to the grocery store, you heard quite a number of complaints from ran about how ‘he’s a busy guy’ and ‘i’ve got stuff to take care of too!’, but frankly, you just dragged him along anyways. you knew that if there was anything seriously important on his schedule that he would probably be more serious, but given the teasing tone of his voice, you completely ignored him. 

❥ walking through the aisles of the grocery store was a bit of a challenge given the special circumstances, especially with the fact that ran was like some kind of child, popping random snacks into the cart when you weren’t looking. it didn’t help that the two of you received some very strange looks, people whispering about god knows what as you walked by, (you could never come back here). 

“what’s with all this stuff you’re getting anyways?”  “for my siblings.”  “you have siblings? how many?” “three younger; two brothers and a sister.” 

❥ there wasn’t a whole lot of serious talking during the shopping trip aside from that, but you noticed that ran seemed very pensive when he learned that information. you probably would have thought about his sudden seriousness a bit more if you weren’t very eager to get out of this store, (though you had to admit, he was somewhat cute when he was serious). 

❥ the walk to your home proved to be just a tad bit awkward; there wasn’t a whole lot of words exchanged between the two of you. you weren’t sure what you were even supposed to say given the situation, so you just decided to stay quiet, which is what ran had seemingly also decided. at least, until he suddenly spoke up. 

“do you do this everyday?”  “hm? yeah, on days when i’m not working.” “working? isn’t there some school rule that you can’t have a job?”  “yeah, that’s why i work in yokohama.” “yokohama?!”  “yep.”

❥ for the next few minutes there was no other words spoken, but he grabbed some of the grocery bags out of your hands, carrying a couple more bags than you were. 

❥ this was one of the only times you had ever seen him this serious, and it was throwing you a bit off. he was usually the stark opposite of serious, so to see this new side to him made you wonder what he could be hiding. just a moment after you turned the idea over in your head, the teasing tone was back in ran’s voice. 

“so, you’re finally able to be seen with me in public, hm~ how does it feel?”  “what’re you talking about?”  “just so you know, it isn’t cute to play dumb, sweetcheeks.”  “um, seriously, what are you talking about?” 

❥ you’re still unsure of how to feel about the words exchanged between the two of you during the rest of the walk; honestly, you had always disliked him because of the way that he disregarded the fact that he was quite privileged to be able to attend school and therefore almost never attended, but you’d never hated him for something small like that. and sure, maybe you thought it was stupid that he was always beating people up, but to be honest, it wasn’t exactly any of your business in the first place, so why would you care? 

❥ he revealed to you in short time that he had been informed that you were embarrassed to be seen with him at all, which was why he disliked you, (you never recalled even thinking such a thing, so you were really questioning the source of his information). 

❥ he’d even acknowledged the points you’d told him about school, ran even mentioning that he was trying to catch up on his studies so that he could maybe still graduate with the rest of the grade, (the amount of work he had missed was incomparable to any other student aside from rindou). 

❥ you felt a little bit relieved when the two of you arrived at your house, entirely because you didn’t want to think too much about ran haitani right now. you have other priorities, and thinking about ran haitani can wait until later. 

❥ when you opened the door and slid your shoes off, you could hear the pitter-patter of little footsteps running to the front door. your siblings all ran for you, wrapping themselves around your legs and hugging your side as they all talked at once. 

“i missed you so much!”  “school today was so boring, and at lunch-” “what’s for dinnerrrrr, i’m sooooo hungry!” 

❥ despite all of the overlapping of the sentences, you still responded to each one of your siblings with patience and kindness, making ran’s heart skip a few beats, (he’s ignoring why). 

❥ when your siblings asked about the boy next to you, you just said that he was ‘some guy from school’, but the teasing wink you sent his way did something to him. he had only ever seen the side of you that was always slightly annoyed with him, so this was truly the first time he had ever seen you even somewhat outside of this norm. 

❥ he thought it was pretty nice :)

❥ he helped you set all the groceries on the counter, even taking them out of the bags and handing the cold items to you as you put them in refrigerator. the sudden change in the relationship between the two of you did feel a little bit weird, but it was somehow in the best way possible. as you cooked dinner, the playful banter between the two of you as he watched you cook and helped with prepping ingredients was honestly refreshing, which was something you never thought you would think about ran haitani. 

“hmm, i bet i can shop a carrot faster than you~”  “oh really? you realize i’ve been chopping carrots for a long time?”  “you’re not the only one who cooks dinner around here, doll.”  “okay then, you’re on!” 

❥ maybe it was the fact that you were both older sibling’s, but you somehow felt like he was so understanding of the situation. despite the fact that the both of you were forced to be together after school, here he was, helping you cook dinner for your family and not trying to pull apart the handcuffs, (you had to admit though, it was a challenge to cook with only one hand). 

❥ you also had to admit that seeing ran interact with your younger siblings during dinner completely warmed your heart; his charm was turned up all the way, but with the best intentions possible. he was indulging in all the random talk about their current interests and hobbies, and he even offered to teach one of your younger brothers how to skateboard!

❥ after dinner, you helped out with any homework you could while you did your own homework, telling ran off at the fact that he didn’t collect the homework assignments that he had missed in the past couple of weeks, (he took a couple looks at your paper and what you were working on, then immediately shook his head and said, ‘next time, maybe…’). 

❥ after your siblings were asleep, the two of you even had a blast baking the brownies for your younger sister’s school event! at one point, he threw a handful of flour at you, leaving you covered in the white powder. you both stood there shocked, ran looking at you with a shocked look on his face as if he wasn’t expecting that outcome at all. 

❥ and so went to get your revenge. 

❥ your hand dipped into the container of flour throwing it right back at him, even going so far as to rub it all over his scalp so that his dark roots were now white. you were a bit unnerved by how good he looked when he was laughing, and how melodious his voice was, especially when he was calling your name- stop! what are you even thinking right now?!

❥ the fight eventually died down when the amount of space between the two of you was suddenly very small, both of you slowing down your actions and stopping, looking at each other, (was there some kind of drug in his gaze? why can’t you look away?)

“y’see somethin’ you like?” “w-what?! no! i mean, i was just, i wasn’t even-” “relax, relax, i’m just teasing. you should’ve seen your face though; it was pretty cute~”

❥ and with that, he just continued on with baking the brownies, acting as if what he just said was completely normal. somehow, this technique worked on you, since you also just pretended like nothing happened, though you didn’t step away when you realized the two of you were standing arm to arm at the counter. 

❥ even though you were pretending that nothing had happened, you couldn’t deny the butterflies you felt in your stomach, courtesy of ran haitani of all people, (if somebody had told you this morning what would happen, you would have called them a bumbling liar). 

❥ maybe being temporarily attached to him wasn’t so bad…

#˗ˏˋ𖤐 hana’s 2k event! ˎˊ˗ #˗ˏˋ𖤐 tokyo revengers ˎˊ˗ #東京リベンジャーズ #東京リベンジャーズ x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo卍revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tok rev #tok rev x reader #tr #tr x reader #ran #haitani #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #haitani x reader #rindou #rindou haitani #anime #manga #fluff #headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader fluff #ran haitani x reader fluff #haitani ran x reader fluff #tokyo revengers x reader headcanons #anime x reader #manga x reader #reader

[leclsrc]

hi auds!! it's my birthday today ;) i never send reqs i know you get a whole ton of them but if you ever got around to this- i think the f1 fic world has a very worrying lack of aus. so could i get a band!charles au drabble where he writes a song about reader and she hears it on the radio? any song you like. reader could be driver or something or connected to f1 if thats cool !!! thank you sm!! i love you

knee socks – cl16

There’s a certain inevitability that comes with having sex with a misaligned, conceited lead guitarist of a band. You aren’t aware of this fact until it hits you in-between your brows with the force of an 18-wheeler truck, at 8AM, through the radio in your car.

genre: drabble... lots of smutty allusions

auds here... happy birthday anon, one month and then some later! to be completely honest i almost deleted this... but through some twist of fate, it was the only thing i could bully into completion lol (aside frm long form fics that i'm still working on) this is 1000% for u and i hope u accept it as a belated bday gift :) i agree btw! id love to see more au fics but it is still nice reading the canon compliant type ones hahah. also the song in this and its and title is of course from this

It was surprising enough to hear an announcement of a new single by The Incident, one that seemingly sprouted out of nowhere, sans promotion. The morning BBC show clobbered the song with theories before finally letting the drawled-out, sticky guitar filter through and into your car. That in itself was odd, sure. Maybe shocking a little. But you leaned into the leather seat and remained quiet.

When you were fifteen, you were convinced the lyrics to Hall & Oates’ “Rich Girl” pinned up perfectly to your (insufferable) personality of the time. Raised in a big family and working in a career of refined prestige, your budding skill and already-cemented name in the modeling industry were just two small indicators of your parents’ massive wealth. Of course, neither Hall nor Oates were actually sitting and writing songs and singing about you—you just found it made sense in one way or another.

That was three years before you met Charles three years ago, at a pub in Soho. His band had only just spilled out of the confines of Soundcloud and seedy managers; they’d broken five million monthly listeners and the throng of people were there to watch them live. You were at the pub for a pint with another friend and left him with your number, a slip of paper tinged with beer; he fished out the nearest surface you could write on from a nearby bowl. Do I Wanna Know? it read in rushed cursive. It was a song request that went unfulfilled.

Rumors flew in your circle. Your father soured at the idea of you seeing somebody he wasn’t actively doing business with, but he failed to realize how limited your dating pool would be if you followed his wishes. Your interactions with the Formula One men he sponsored or worked with, however few and far between, were rancid and impolite. The drivers wore expensive brands, ones that didn’t even fall familiar on people’s ears, but refused to tip beyond three pounds. It came as both a shock and no surprise that the nouveau rich rock singer treated you with more decency than any of them did.

He was shy about it first, knowing how filthy rich you were. He made jokes about how his flat could fit in your kitchen twice over. He spoke what little French he remembered from childhood to impress you, paid for takeout, wore Lacoste when he came over to drink—then fuck—because it was, at the time, the most decent brand he owned. It’d been January when he came over, caught a sight of you at the foyer with all your expensive coats hung up. Your tongue was blue with a lozenge. It was the only thing he could look at while fucking you.

He wore a light blue variant once, fit and snug on him. You wrestled it off him in-between hot, sweet kisses, kept it on your bed so it’d be the first thing you tugged on in the morning before a shoot for a brand you can no longer place.

The last time you saw him he’d shown you lyrics, sang them aloud, drummed the beat he thought of on the skin of your thigh. His accent disappeared into rasp and notes. You told him to perform it live and he fucked you splayed up against your door, bent over your counter, then with your knees pressed to your chest on your white sheets, warm from the laundry. S’good for me, aren’t you, princess? All for me. My filthy girl.

Two hours later: I’m going on tour, sweetheart, he’d said while he cleaned you up.

’Til? Or… like, for long? Naked, you wrapped your blanket around your frame.

Ah, oui. For a while. 

You failed to answer amicably, your eyebrows twisting. You didn’t think to tell me? Just up and leave then? No number, no text, no announcement, just— You exhaled tightly. You knew he didn’t owe you anything of the sort; the sex, you guessed, the company had been so good you’d deluded yourself into thinking so.

Kitten—

Don’t call me that, you huffed, angrier now. Petulant. You got up and crowded him ’til you got to the door. Get the fuck out.

You watched him leave, brown leather jacket and black tee disappearing into London, and wrenched memories of him from the depths of your brain, the two years of your back and forth rendezvous. You wondered why you didn’t get a song in that time, after his ascent to fame, after the release of other hit singles inspired by his bandmates’ gossip rags and measly shags.

So a year later, when the memories have just begun to purge themselves—when the lyrics, which already have sent a swoop through your stomach, progress into the line When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste… and your knee socks, you effectively choke on your a.m. cappucino. It’s like “Rich Girl” all over again, but this is overt, it’s targeted. Like whoever wrote it must’ve known you’d be listening right now, en route to a shoot at eight in the morning.

“All good, miss?” Ed, your chauffeur, meets your eyes in the rearview, concerned.

“Perf—” your voice cracks. “Perfect.”

You screw your eyes shut and try to collect yourself, zeroing in on the lyrics that’d been foggy before.

Curing his January blues—the month you two started sleeping together.The fact that he’d had your number, a famous stranger, before you had his. Every beat, every word, every deep-voiced lyric traces back to you (unless, of course, he’s busying himself shagging any other girl in London on rainy Tuesdays and letting her wear his now-old polos. The thought sends a pang of jealousy through you.)

But you know better. You know you’re the only one.

Because your phone’s the only one buzzing late into the damp night—when the zeroes line up on the clock by your bed, the one he fixed up for you—with a number you’ve removed the name of, blocked at some point, but can still memorize in his absence.

Maybe tonight you’ll pick up.

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader #anonymous

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Stretch you out

Pairing: Gym Trainer Yeosang x gn!reader

Word count: 1.4K

Warning: Unprotected sex (make sure you are safe besties), vaginal sex, dry humping kinda??, sub reader, kinda pwp

A/N: I honest can just see Yeo being a gym trainer that you tell your friends you wanna fuck tbh lol. It's just something short and fun to give yall!

"C'mon, you can do it, a little more for me."

"Ahh~ please no more Yeo, you're gonna break me." You said between your battered moaning.

"No I'm not, you can handle it." he giggled as he watched you struggle. Two things were going on right now that caused you to struggle at this moment.

Number one, Yeosang, your unforgiving trainer decided to call you out on your excuses today. You always quit the routines he would give you mid-way saying your body felt tight and that you forgot to stretch at home. Him being a sweetheart he didn't want to overwork you and risk you pulling something so he always let you bail out, however today he offered to help stretch you out and wouldn't take no for an answer. You arrived at his gym prepared to be worked out to high hell today, thank god you got private sessions so no one else would be there to watch you suffer. At first, the stretching was pretty standard and not that bad, you actually felt your body loosening up, he then instructed you to lay on your back so he could stretch your legs, thighs, and glutes. Your heart raced a bit thinking about your sexy and buff trainer gripping your legs and ass but you refrained from thinking too much about it to keep a professional vibe. Feeling Yeosang palm your ass like a basketball made you feel hot inside and you couldn't help but let out small "Fuck"s and whimpers as he shifted your legs in various positions

The thought of him flipping you around with ease while he fucked you turned you on so much, maybe too much because you started to feel your pussy tingle as it got wetter the more he touched you. You looked down to see Yeo sweating from moving you around, the sweat made those huge biceps of his glisten and of course, he chose to wear a sleeveless Nike compression shirt today and his broad chest looked huge, you could feel the room spinning but you kept your composure. It was all swell until he gripped both your ankles and folded your legs to your shoulders.

"Ahhh, fuck." your eyes got wide at your sudden outburst.

"Feels good to be getting stretched out like this huh? See what happens when you prep properly!" He said with an eager smile, he was so sweet and oblivious he didn't realize he was just egging on your fantasy of letting your trainer fuck you good into the gym floor mats.

"Y-yeah." you said as your brain got foggy. Yeosang stretched your legs even more, bringing your ankles to your ears as he leaned his body against you.

This is where your second problem came in, while he was pressing his body against you you started to feel something else press against your core. That's when you realized, Yeosang definitely free balls in his gym clothes because his dick was hard as a pipe pressing against your already needy pussy. Seems like someone else is also enjoying this session a bit too much, but you knew Yeosang would never make a move on you, he was too polite, so now you're stuck with his unhelpful banter and hard dick.

"You're doing such a good job, just a little longer Y/N and we'll be done."

You couldn't help the sounds falling from your mouth as he praised you, you couldn't take it anymore, this was the most torturous version of edging you could think of.

"Y-yeo please, please." you said in a hoarse voice, he tried to get closer which only brushed his length more into your walls.

"What was that? I can't hear you, speak up." he said, no fucking way he doesn't know what he's doing.

"Oh my fucking God Yeo please you're going to kill me."

"You can take it, I know you can." he said, oh yeah he knew exactly what he was doing, he just needed you to give him the green light at this point, he just wanted to hear you say you needed him so he could fuck you senseless right then and there. He pushed on your legs even more, his dick sandwiching between your soaking wet walls as it pressed against your needy clit, you yelled out even more moans, you couldn't hold them back anymore.

"Please just fuck me, please, I need it so bad, please oh my god!" You yelled out, you didn't even realize you said that, your mind was only on getting fucked by him and feeling every inch of his dick inside you.

Yeosang giggled teasingly at your request.

"I thought you would never ask." He sat back on his legs as your weak legs stayed in place, Yeo was a nice guy but he was rude as fuck when it came to sex. He gripped your leggings with both hands in the crotch part and ripped it open, exposing your wet sex. He rubbed his fingers over it as he stared at your kitty like it was the most beautiful sight. He placed his two fingers over your throbbing clit and rubbed circle 8's on it, your hips bucked upward because of the sensitivity, more moans and pleads fell from your lips.

"Do you need to be stretched here too gorgeous?" He said looking up at you with the face of an angel but the horniness of a grown man.

"Yes, please! Please put your dick in me." You continued to beg as your hips bucked and moved on their own, he decided to not make you wait anymore, he pulled his shorts down a bit and let out his angry red dick, he reached for his gym bag, and pulled out a condom.

"Please no Yeo, I want to feel you inside me, I'm on birth control."

Luckily one of the things that came with being your trainer was you being very open with him and telling him everything so he knew you recently were tested and could trust you.

"So needy for her trainers dick, how long have you wanted this love?"

He said as he gripped his dick and lined it up with your entrance.

"So long Yeo, so fucking long." You said as more whiny moans came out of you.

He brushed your wet pussy with his dick to cover it with your slick then pushed his hard tip in, he slowly sank his length into you as he held both your ankles in the air, his mouth was a gape while your eyes rolled to the back of your head, already feeling the rush of your orgasm approaching. He finally bottomed out in you, leaned down, pushing your legs back to your ears, and took no time as he started to drill into your leaky cunt. The macaroni noises your needy pussy was making mixed with your desperate moans was like a porno was being made. He was relentless with how his hips moved as he continued to drill into you.

"Your so wet, you like how my dick stretches your little pussy out? It's so tight I'm surprised I can fit in so easily."

His vulgar words only egged your orgasm on even more, your brain was empty, only hearing the slapping noises being made by the raw and unfiltered sex. You were babbling nonsense while he fucked you dumb. Tears started to fall from your eyes.

"Please Yeo I'm going to cum please fuck me more."

He had a cocky grin on his face watching you get fucked into a dumb drooling, crying mess, he thrust his dick hard and deep into you, you could feel him hitting deep inside.

"Your pussy is going to be nice and stretched out when I'm done, you'll only be able to fit my dick inside of it." His endless stamina from working out was showing because his hips never stopped driving into you. You felt your peak as you screamed his name, drool running down the side of your cheeks as your orgasm took over you, your whole body shook from how powerful it was. Yeosang continued to fuck you through your high, when you finished he pulled out and sat on his knees, he pumped himself a few times then hot ropes of cum shot onto your stomach, legs, and butt, getting all over your clothes, remember when I said he was rude as hell? Thank God these were your gym clothes and you changed here.

He looked at his watch as you were stuck there from getting absolutely drilled.

"Looks like our session is up. Can't wait to see you tomorrow." He said with his cute little smile.

#ateez smut #ateez fanfic #atz smut #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #yeosang fanfic

[awlumii]

rain check.

# — pairing: (spidey!)kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha

# — warnings: n/a

# — summary: "i'm late, i'm late! for a very important date! no time to say 'hello, goodbye,' i'm late, i'm late, i'm late!" — white rabbit, alice in wonderland

# — tags: spidey!kazuha au, fluff, brief angst, making up, getting together, there's kisses involved, reader's also a simp (lol)

# — notes: [stands awkwardly in the corner] heyy... i tried my hand at the au again... as always, reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i really hope you enjoy this!

wanna join the tag list?

✧ — 🍁 + 🕷 — ✧

the meeting time was 7:30 pm originally.

7:45 pm. the waitstaff asked you if you wanted to order anything. you politely declined and informed them that you'd order when your date arrived.

8:15 pm. you texted kazuha and got no response. you eventually grew impatient and reluctantly ordered food for yourself. your face burned at the looks of pity you received from the employees.

8:45 pm. you still didn't get a response from kazuha. you tried not to text him too frequently in fear of sounding clingy or belligerent, but after an hour or so of radio silence, you couldn't help but triple (or even quadruple) text him.

9:00 pm. you check your phone. still no response from kazuha.

9:15 pm. you figured that dessert wouldn't hurt, but it was hard to stomach what with the waitstaff watching you from afar. if you strained your ears, you could hear them whispering something about a customer being stood up and having to eat alone.

9:30 pm. you didn't eat the dessert.

9:45 pm. you asked for the check. they refused to give you one. they gave you their pity instead.

10:00 pm. you left.

10:05 pm. five minutes after you started walking home, there was a blinding flash of lightning. that was the only warning you received before the skies opened up.

the frigid rain seeps through your clothes and chills you to the bone. surprisingly, it's not as unpleasant as it sounds; you were starting to feel a little numb, anyway. quiet splashes echo from the sidewalk as you drag yourself home. people pass you by one after the other, each with umbrellas, but you pay them no mind. you continue on your way.

maybe you're being dramatic, but you feel like shit right now.

when kazuha first suggested going to such a nice restaurant, you were a little hesitant to agree. never mind your preferences — kazuha isn't one for lavish affairs. he's told you as much before. even if the place wasn't super pricey, the ambience seemed to be a bit too much for his tastes. it took some coaxing on his part — he said he wanted to ask you something important, which only served to make your stomach twist into knots — but in the end, he finally got you to say yes. (truthfully, you folded as soon as he took your hands in his — you really need to learn to say no to him.)

it wasn't until you were getting ready to leave that you realized that this was going to be your tenth date with kazuha. is that why he was so insistent on going somewhere nice? you thought it adorable that he seemed to be keeping track of the number of dates the two of you have been on. it made you excited to see him — so excited in fact, that you showed up fifteen minutes early.

and yet in spite of this whole thing being his idea, kazuha never showed up, leaving you to make a fool of yourself in one of the nicest restaurants in the city.

"knew i should've stayed home," you grumble as you trudge through the downpour. you're totally lying to yourself; you had no intention of saying no to him. kazuha could suggest anything and you know you'd agree at the drop of a hat. but as they say, hindsight is 20/20; you should have dug your heels in and said no and suggested something else — maybe something that didn't involve you looking like a fucking moron at a restaurant.

your vision blurs suddenly, forcing you to come to a halt. you think it's because of the torrential rain, but the heat radiating off of your cheeks tells you otherwise. you wipe your eyes free of water — a futile effort — and chuckle humorlessly to yourself. why are you doing this? it's not like anybody's going to notice, right? you sniffle; that can easily be because you're cold and wet.

you sob. you tell yourself it's just a cough.

stop being so dramatic. keep walking.

the second you turn onto a narrow street, you hear a familiar thwip-! coming from overhead. you barely have time to acknowledge that spider-man is swinging around before he's landing right in front of you, blocking your path. you brush rainwater (and tears) out of your eyes to see him better. "you're, uh, kinda in my way, spider-man," you call out over the downpour. "could you move so i can go home?"

"what're you doing out here without an umbrella?" spider-man asks. he doesn't move like you asked; he just steps closer. and if you strain your ears a little, you think he sounds really worried. maybe you're just hearing things. "you're drenched! you're going to get sick at this rate."

for some reason, his concern makes you want to laugh. you crack a smile, though there's very little joy to be found in it. "i'm just taking a nightly stroll." you lie. "and don't worry, i won't get sick. i'm the nurse here, remember? now could you move, please?"

you step around him and start to walk past, but he grabs your arm, stopping you. why is he being like this? what is it with the men in your life tonight? "i... can't be too sure that you'll go straight home." he lets you go and holds out his hands for you to take. "at the very least, allow me to take you."

you make a face. "shouldn't you be saving someone somewhere?"

"i'm offering to take you somewhere, aren't i?" he asks. it sounds more like a retort to you. "and aren't you someone?"

"uh-huh. and what are you saving me from, exactly?"

"if we move fast enough, probably a really bad head cold." spider-man shakes his hand, silently urging you to take it. "come on. i can't have my doctor getting sick, can i?"

you sigh. you don't have it in you to turn down his offer. you never do, now that you're thinking about it. you should really do some self-evaluation. besides, the rain is fucking freezing — it felt nice a few minutes ago, but you can feel yourself starting to shiver and shake. that cold may just catch you regardless of how quickly you get home. "fine," you say and take his hand.

spider-man pulls you in by your hand and wraps an arm around your waist. instinctively, you cling to him as tightly as you can. he's as warm as ever, you note, even in the freezing rain. at this distance, you hear him chuckle: "at least you know to hold on tight." you get no other warning before he's zipping through the air with you in tow. you shriek at the sudden movement, but spider-man only laughs. "you're alright," he reassures you over the wind.

in no time at all, you're being rested on your balcony. you slide open the door and stumble into your apartment on wobbly knees, ignoring spider-man's amused laughter. "you're like a baby deer every time," he giggles. "are you not used to it yet?"

"stop making it sound like i'm the weird one here." you grumble as you lower yourself into a chair. your body feels too stiff and heavy to move. you're still drenched, but all you can do right now is shiver in your seat. meanwhile, spider-man isn't making any moves to leave. he's just watching you — or at least, you think he is. "what're you s-standing there for?" you stutter. you're cold. "what's the matter?"

spider-man puts his hand on the back of his neck and rubs it awkwardly. are you missing something right now? why is he suddenly acting like this? "are you... going to tell me why you were walking in the rain?" he holds the back of his neck, his eyes seemingly still on you. "i refuse to believe that you were taking a 'nightly stroll'." he uses air quotes to repeat your earlier words.

you laugh shakily. "are you interrogating me, spider-man?"

for once, he doesn't laugh with you. "i... just want to know. i'll leave you alone as soon as you tell me; you need to go and warm up."

you open your mouth to explain, but as you look back on the whole incident, you once again feel embarrassment take you by the shoulders. why were you really walking home in the rain? you could've ducked into a store and called a cab or taken public transportation -- what possessed you to do something so childish? your skin, though clammy, heats up as you avert your eyes.

you press your palm against your lips, muffling your voice. "i was, uh... stood up."

"...really now?"

you grimace and nod. "it was, um... supposed to be our tenth date, actually." you recall the blush that coated kazuha's cheeks when he asked you out the other day, and you start to feel the beginnings of a smile on your face. he's so cute — you'd give anything to see him right now.

because as upset as you may have been earlier, you realize that deep down, you just really want to be with kazuha. you're pissed that he still hasn't contacted you yet, but you have faith that he will; this kind of discourtesy isn't like him.

spider-man doesn't know that, though. he makes a noise of disapproval. "pardon my harsh language, songbird," he comments, "but he sounds like an asshole."

you gasp, scandalized. you've never heard him swear before. it sounds so wrong coming from him — was he really that upset about you being stood up? why did that thought make your heart skip a beat? "don't say something like that!" you open your mouth to continue chastising him, but instead you sneeze, hard. you groan and rise to your feet. if you don't move now, you really will catch that cold. "say something bad about my boyfriend again, and i'll fight your face off." you call over your shoulder as you head to your bathroom.

"your boyfriend?" spider-man's words give you pause. you whirl around to glare at him, ready to retort and defend yourself, but he puts his hands up in mock surrender. "you said it, not me. but i must say," he lays his hand over his chest, "i'm wounded, songbird. and here i thought i stood a chance."

you freeze. he thought what?! your mind starts to race immediately, but you reel yourself in quickly. your feelings for spider-man are supposed to be a thing of the past. they were childish and impractical — kazuha is the better choice in every way possible. remember that, you tell yourself.

you flip him off with a sigh. "get out, webhead. i'm going to warm up."

spider-man shrugs, the perfect picture of nonchalance. if only he knew the things he did to your head. "alright, alright." he heads back to your balcony. "take care of yourself, okay?" he calls out to you.

"whatever!" you call back.

with a laugh, he leaps off of your balcony and swings into the stormy night, leaving you dripping in your hallway. you shake your head and start towards your bathroom.

once you've taken a hot shower and put on some warm, dry clothes, you drop yourself onto your couch and turn your tv on. you're not really watching anything, but the background noise is nice. you lay yourself down and roll onto your back.

so the date was a bust. you sigh heavily. that restaurant was so, so nice, too. the atmosphere was perfect — you're pretty sure that if kazuha had asked you to be his partner there, you might have cried. that, or you would have passed out; either one seems likely. you pause for a second. is that what he was going to ask you? oh, you definitely would've cried.

are you really upset about being stood up? you gave it some thought while you were in the shower and decided that no, you're not all that upset. at least, not with kazuha. embarrassed, yes — you can never show your face at that restaurant again — but not upset. kazuha's track record speaks for itself; you can always re-schedule the date.

again, you sigh. you're much too nice to him. simp.

you're about to change the channel on the tv when you hear a frantic knocking on your front door. you jump, startled by the sudden noise. hesitant, you make your way to the door. "uh, who is it?" you call out.

the voice from behind the door makes your stomach flip. "it's kazuha. can i see you? please?"

kazuha? he came here?

you look through your peephole and sure enough, kazuha is standing in front of your door looking very winded, very distressed, and very drenched. without thinking twice, you fling your door open and tug him inside. "what were you thinking, coming here in this weather without an umbrella?!" you hiss at him as you take in his rain soaked state. under any other circumstances, you'd be gentler with him — normally you would never be so snappy with him — but all that's on your mind as you dart over to your linen closet is how sick he's going to be because of this.

kazuha's eyes widen at your tone. "i had to come and see you," he tries to explain. "i--"

you don't let him finish. you drop a soft towel over his head and start rubbing him dry, ignoring the startled noise he makes. "you're still catching your breath, too. christ, did you run here or something?"

you move the towel so that you can see kazuha's face. he looks so apologetic and honestly, really cute with his face peeking out from under the towel. "if i said yes, would you be upset with me?"

"what the-- yes!" you head back over to your linen closet and grab a bigger towel before marching into your room to rifle through your stuff. you can't believe he risked a catching a cold like this! and for what? just to see you? you stop for a moment and recognize just how romantic his gesture is supposed to be. his sprinting all the way to your apartment (and judging by the way his chest was heaving, up the stairs, too) in the freezing rain makes your heart stutter — to think he would go this far just to see you... you shake your head. you can be flattered after he's dry. you hear a quiet sneeze from outside your room and quickly head back out to see kazuha rubbing at his nose.

you shove the clothes you found into his arms along with the towel. "go and take a shower and put these on." you shake your head when he starts to talk back. "nope, i don't want to hear it. when you're done, leave your clothes in the sink and i'll wash and dry them."

"this is--"

"kazuha." your tone is flat and leaves no room for argument. you raise a brow at him and he stares at you for just a second longer before doing as you said. once the bathroom door is closed, you drop yourself back on your couch and bury your face in your hands.

you thought that you weren't upset, but now that he's actually here, you're not quite sure what it is you're feeling. are you pissed because he risked his health to see you? or do you want to punch him for standing you up tonight? well, you think to yourself, he wouldn't have run in the rain if he didn't feel bad about the whole date situation. you look at the bathroom door with a tiny smile. he can be such a charmer when he wants to be — an impulsive one, but a charmer nonetheless. you decide that you're definitely just upset at him for being so stupid.

time passes and eventually kazuha emerges from your bathroom in the large hoodie and sweatpants you forced upon him. he looks adorable in your clothes. you tell him to make himself comfortable before tossing his clothes in the laundry. when you come back, you seat yourself beside him. he seems to be making himself small — either that or he's just drowning in the clothes you gave him. "am i allowed to speak now?" he asks quietly.

you snort. "yes, kazuha, you can speak now."

"i'm really sorry." kazuha's eyes are on you, and you can see the remorse swimming in them. he looks like he's gauging your reaction for permission to continue. when you say nothing, he goes on: "i swear to you, i was on my way there when something suddenly came up," he continues. "it was urgent and demanded all of my attention. i must have gotten so absorbed that i'd forgotten to contact you. by the time everything had finished, it was incredibly late and i figured that you must've gone home, so i..." he trails off.

you tilt your head. "so you ran here?"

kazuha nods. "i... didn't realize doing so would upset you so much. so please, allow me to apologize for that as well. i know my excuse may sound generic and unsatisfying, but you have to believe me when i say that i'm telling the truth.

well, there it is. there's your apology. you press your lips together to fight off a smile. "i believe you just fine," you say. "and i forgive you."

he blinks in disbelief. "are... you sure? aren't you upset with me?"

"do you want me to be?"

"you should be." kazuha winces. this is seriously eating at him; his brows are drawn and his jaw is clenched, showing in no uncertain terms that at least one of you is upset. upset may not even be the right word. he's starting to look pained, if not anything else. why is he being like this? for the second time tonight, you feel like you're missing something here.

you reach over and gently tap your fingers against his own in a silent request to take his hand. he visibly stalls before tentatively wrapping his pinky around yours. "i really do forgive you, you know." you murmur. "life happens, and sometimes plans don't work out. that's just the way things are."

kazuha sighs, unconvinced by your kindness. "the whole date was my idea." he takes his hand away from yours. "at the very least, i should have contacted you." he looks away from you. "and i know that... that this won't be the last time something like this happens. i don't want to keep disappointing you like this."

there's a hidden weight to his words that you pick up on. it's apparent that he's not telling you something, but it's not like you can just pry it out of him. he's barely listening to you as it is. you find yourself stuck between being flattered that he cares so much and worried that he'll truly never forgive himself for this. what can you do to convince him that you're not mad?

kazuha's shoulders tense and you can see color faintly rising to his cheeks. "and i was going to ask you..." he pauses for a second to look at you. "...something important, but i'm worried that i shouldn't. that i don't deserve to."

...you knew it. you fucking knew it! you see the way he's looking at you — he was totally going to ask you to be his partner. the problem now though, is that he's probably not going to. he's kicking himself while he's down, ruining your relationship before you even had a chance to form one.

it's not hard to see things his way. he's worried that he can't guarantee that he'll be able to confidently make time for you without interruption. it's a legitimate concern — who doesn't worry about this kind of thing? what he needs to hear now is not that everything's okay, but rather that it will be; that you're content with any mistakes he may make; that you're more than willing to take him as he is, urgent issues and all.

again, you knock your fingers on his. this time, you hook two of your fingers on his. "ask me." you tell him.

kazuha frowns slightly. "i don't..."

"do you still want to ask?"

"of course." he pauses to squints at you. "you already know what it is i'm going to ask you, don't you?"

you bite back a grin. "maybe i do, maybe i don't. ask me anyways."

a smile ghosts across his face as his cheeks redden just a little bit more. "i was going to ask if you wanted to... make our relationship official." he looks down at your joined fingers before looking back at you. "and it would mean the world to me if you said—"

"yes."

kazuha takes your hand fully. "i had a feeling you would say that." it's evident in the way he visibly softens and in the way he sighs that he's pleased with your answer (although 'pleased' is far too light a word to describe the pure, raw happiness that overtook his face). maybe you're going crazy, but you think that something akin to love flashes in his eyes. it overwhelms you. he takes your hand fully in his and you feel your own face start to warm just from looking at him.

"i was always going to say yes," you say when you manage to find your voice. "i want to be with you, kazuha."

his expression dims. did you say something wrong? "i want to be with you too," he says as he brings your hand up to cup his face. "but as i said, i may be a disappointment to you. i don't want to hurt you in any way, even if it's by accident."

you brush your thumb over his skin. it's warm to the touch. "you won't hurt me," you say softly. "and a little disappointment won't be the end of the world."

kazuha regards you closely. he looks like he's trying to be at peace with your hand on his face, but the draw in his brows gives away his internal conflict. for a second, you wonder if you're coming off too strong. you like kazuha a lot (it's probably too soon to say the big L word, but it surely doesn't scare you), but you're always afraid that you're either giving too much of yourself, or not enough. your insistence on dating him may be more repulsive than attractive.

"i like you," he suddenly murmurs, "so much."

your chest feels tight and you feel breathless. why did he suddenly say that? "i like you, too," you reply.

kazuha leans in and presses his forehead against yours. you hold your breath as his eyes slip shut. he seems so at peace at this distance, unlike you, who's trying to swallow back your heart that suddenly leaped into your throat. "i'd like to be yours," he says in the space between. "if you'll have me, that is."

you feel so dizzy, so drunk on your giddy emotions. this isn't how you saw tonight playing out at all, but you're not going to complain. "of course," you breathe your response. your voice trembles just a little, giving away your nervousness. "you're all i want."

at that, kazuha kisses you. it's slow and sweet, and also — if memory serves you right — the fifth time he's kissed you. if life were a cartoon, you would probably flushed bright red, lovestruck and dumb; a fool for the man before you. it takes you a second to kiss him back — he pulls away for just a moment but you capture his lips again and drink in the content sigh he rewards you with. this is different from the kisses you've shared before. the others were reserved and almost timid, hesitant kisses shared at the beginning of a new relationship. this kiss becomes intoxicating and gratifying — one you find yourself quickly getting addicted to.

believe it or not though, it's you who pulls away first, your heart stuttering in your chest. you don't go very far, but you turn your head away to try and retain some of your sanity. it's obvious that what you said had quite the effect on kazuha; his fingers come to your jaw and move you gently so that you're facing him again, but he doesn't close the gap. there's another silence before he kisses you once, then twice, before he pulls away and sighs. "if there's anything that i can do to make up for tonight," he says, "tell me. i'll do anything."

there's only one thing you can think of saying. "stay with me tonight." the words come out easily — maybe a little too easily. you fluster and your face heats up considerably as you start to ramble. "i-i mean, um... it's gonna be pouring all night and you clearly don't have an umbrella so i mean, i think you should stay. if you want to, then of course you can stay, but you can say no — i just don't want you to catch a cold, y'know..."

kazuha says nothing; he watches you with thinly veiled amusement in his eyes. "would me staying the night make you happy?"

you groan quietly. "stop enjoying this. you know the answer already."

"i do, i do. you're just really cute when you're embarrassed."

"you know what? forget it. i'm gonna go check on your clothes." you stand abruptly to escape your discomfort, but kazuha takes your hand in his, stopping you with a laugh.

"i'm sorry, dove, i'm sorry." he chuckles as he speaks. he stands and pulls you in by your waist. "i'll stay the night. does that sound good?"

you rest your hands on his shoulders poised to push him away, but think against it. your heart is hammering in your chest. it's hard to be mad at him when he's smiling like that, even if it's at your expense. asking him to stay was a spur of the moment decision, but when you look at him like this, up close, you know that you would've had a hard time letting him go. so... "yeah," you mutter. "sounds good. now will you please let me go and check on your clothes?"

he hums and leans in. his voice is barely above a murmur when he speaks. "one more thing." and for (what you think is) the eighth time since you've started seeing each other, kazuha kisses you, sending pleasure rocketing through your system. it drags on despite you trying to pull away, what with kazuha chasing after your lips with a mischievous smile the entire time.

eventually, you get fed up and hold his face. "knock it off, you." you say once you successfully pull away. "i have things to do."

kazuha, who looks far brighter than he was earlier, lets you go and raises his hands in mock surrender. "alright, alright. go on. i'll be here; i promise."

you open your mouth to say something snide, but quickly shut it. you're floored by just how happy he makes you, even if he can be annoying from time to time. perhaps it's because you're technically in the honeymoon phase, but you know for a fact that his smile is one you'd do anything to protect. becoming his partner is a decision you know you'll never, ever regret, and you're sure of that.

you turn on your heel and start towards the laundry room. "don't miss me too much!" you call over your shoulder. kazuha's quiet laughter follows you out of the room, warming your heart.

✦ [screaming and crying]

✦ I HAVE BEEN GOING THROUGH KAZUHA WITHDRAWALS FOR DAYS AND THAT'S WHY THERE'S SO MANY KISSES, I'M SO SORRY I'M SUCH A PATHETIC BITCHNDBSDJ

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin kazuha x reader #[ ✍️🏽 — scribbles! ] #does a half-happy dance