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#it’s easy you just press the follow button
periprose · 11 months
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why do people on instagram unfollow but assume you want to keep following them? you're not fucking famous lol
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schrodingerscougar · 2 months
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Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.
Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.
For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.
The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.
He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.
“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”
That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”
You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.
“What got you thinking so hard?”
Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.
“Me?”
“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”
It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.
Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.
He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.
When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.
As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.
You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.
“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”
With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”
Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.
“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
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easter day
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words: 1.3k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, dad!rafe, mom!reader, fluffy and cute, talk of pregnancy, p in v sex
“when are they getting here?” rafe questions, hands on your hips, leaning over your shoulder to look at the counter where you're finishing frosting the sugar cookies with various pastel colors.
“uhh…” you glance at the clock. “any minute now.” you set down the piping bag as you finish the last detail and turn to look at rafe, changing your voice to a whisper. “are all the eggs hidden?”
“yup.” he nods. “and i already told harper that the small blue ones are for her brother so to let him get the easy ones. the easter bunny told me specifically.”
“smart.” you chuckle, letting rafe pull you in and press your lips together.
“i do just have one complaint.” rafe says, hands moving from your hips to grip your bum. 
“and what would that be?” you look at your husband, one eyebrow raised.
“this dress.” rafe shakes his head. “you look too good in it, you're practically begging me to put a third kid in you.”
“not until elijah is two, remember?” you remind rafe.
“he's 18 months, that's practically two!” rafe lies through his teeth, his grin turning mischievous, knowing just how big of a difference six months can make in a baby's development.
“ill tell you what…” you run your hands up rafes chest. “why don't we sneak away when my parents get here? you know they act like we don't exist anyways.”
you can't blame them, harper just turned 5 and is a handful, which is only added to by elijah. while he's an angel, he's still a toddler and will get into anything and everything if you turn your back for even a minute.
“sounds perfect.” rafe gives you another kiss as harper runs into the kitchen, elijah still distracted in the corner in his bouncer.
“mommy!” she squeals, launching herself at you. you pick her up and easily turn her so she's on your hip. “mommy, mommy.” she continues. “the easter bunny came! i saw eggs in the backyard!”
“oh, yay!” you bounce her slightly as elijah giggles, reacting to harper's excitement. rafe heads to the bouncer and lifts him out.
“and look, mama made cookies.” you show her the frosted sugar cookie eggs and baby chicks. “and i left a couple unfrosted for you to do with grandma and grandpa!”
harper lets out another squeal and wiggles excitedly. “elijah, gammy and gamps are coming over!”
rafe chuckles at her mispronunciation. it started when she was first learning to talk and their names haven't changed since, even elijah calling them their nicknames.
there's a knock at the door and harper wiggles out of your arms to run towards the front, quickly followed by you and rafe, who unabashedly checks you out as harper opens the door to your parents.
“harper!” your mom steps in, wrapping her in a big hug, completing it with pressing kisses all over her face.
“and there's my little man.” your dad takes elijah from rafes arms, whose happy to give him up, itching to get that alone time with you.
you quickly usher your parents in, showing them the unfrosted cookies and other activities to keep your kids attention. 
“rafe and i are gonna go finish their easter baskets.” in truth you've had their baskets finished for a week now, but there's no reason for them to know that.
“okay, that's fine dear.” your mom says, barely glancing to you as harper grabs a butter knife covered in pink frosting.
you grab your husband's hand, and he practically sprints up the stairs, pulling you right along with him into your bedroom.
“god, you knew this would happen didn't you?” rafe questions, hands gripping at your dress, pulling it up as he backs you up towards your bed, keeping the door slightly cracked so you can hear if anyone comes up the stairs. “you know i can't resist this dress.”
you keep your sundresses at the front of your closet, wearing them whenever you find a reason to, purely because of how rafe reacts to them.
“stop talking and hurry up.” you chastise rafe, fingers swiftly undoing the buttons of his crisp shirt until your hands can delve in and feel his muscles.
“yes, ma’am.” rafe smirks, lowering you onto the bed as his lips find yours again, fingers coming to your underwear to feel the wet spot that has started to form. his fingers swipe over the material until you’re moaning quietly, eyes shut.
“god, need to get inside you.” rafe groans, standing to undo his shorts and grab a condom from the nightstand as you take your underwear off, tossing them in the general direction of your hamper. 
you use the moment of silence to listen, seeing if you can hear anything coming from downstairs, but all seems to be calm as rafe pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, lining up his cock with your entrance.
rafe sinks in slowly with a low groan as you gasp, gripping the bed sheets. its been far too long since you’ve been able to have a moment alone like this.
“so good, mama.” rafe wraps your legs around his hips as he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you, thumb already rubbing over your clit, knowing you both need to cum and get downstairs as soon as possible.
“yeah, feels good.” you whine, covering your mouth with your palm as you let out noises, rafe always able to get the sounds out of you even when you should be quiet.
rafe moves faster, cock pushing at your walls, stretching you open for his length.
“shit.” rafe groans. “we need to convince your parents or aunt wheezie to take them for a weekend.”
“mmm, that’s exactly what we need.” you nod. you know that you’d probably end up pregnant again if you had an uninterrupted weekend with rafe, you already feel the urge to reach down and pull the condom off of him, but the thought of dealing with elijah at his current age while pregnant has your mind clearing quickly.
“or we can start sending elijah to daycare once a week.” rafe says, glad that the conversation is helping quell his orgasm somewhat, not wanting to burst inside of you too early.
“fuck, whatever it takes to get more of this.” you push at rafes stomach. he takes a step back as you flip over on the bed, toes touching the floor as you turn onto your stomach.
“god, i wanna marry you all over again.” rafe pushes quickly back insides, thrusts now speeding up as his hands grip your ass, squeezing it and watching the way it jiggles with every thrust.
you push your hand below your body to touch your clit, rubbing it in pace with rafes cock pushing inside of you, pressing your face into the mattress to drown out your noises.
“gonna cum, baby.” rafe warns, cock swelling inside of you before hes releasing with one more deep thrust, triggering your own orgasm as your body shakes.
rafe pulls out, flipping your dress back down over your ass just in case someone sneaks upstairs as he discards of the condom and redresses before heading back to you, helping you turn over to sit on the edge of the bed.
“i love you.” rafe coos, pressing kisses to the top of your head as you lean against him.
“i love you too.” you take his hand in his. “and we should get back downstairs before they get suspicious.”
“absolutely.” rafe nods, following you out the bedroom and down the stairs, leaning in to whisper in your ear when he sees everyone is still occupied with frosting cookies, a smear of orange frosting across harpers nose. “and don’t think i forgot that you aren’t wearing panties anymore.”
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praeluxius · 1 month
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Impulse
male reader x hanni & danielle of newjeans
5.8k words - it's quick and it's messy masterlist here
thank you @gangplanksorenji for inspiring
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Another fucking day. Another fucking problem.
You have half a mind to throw the phone onto the floor, and it's all thanks to her. She refuses to make this easy for either of you—fighting tooth and nail for everything she can get. You're just happy there’s no kids involved.
The two of you never got that far.
Even getting married is a regret. You punch the toilet stall door in frustration before dropping your phone back into your pocket.
And to make things worse, admin just can't get your schedule right. So you have another hour to burn away and waste before the next set of students, who want to be there just as little as you do, spill through the door to your lecture hall.
You make your way back inside. Maybe you can waste some time grading papers.
"Girls? What are you two still doing here?" you ask as you close the lecture hall door behind you.
Danielle is the first to answer. "Well, we noticed you left your stuff behind, so we wanted to keep an eye on it for you."
"And well, you left in such a hurry, we want to make sure you are okay." Hanni follows up, approaching you with a concerned look on her face.
"Well thank you girls, but that's not necessary. Don't you have classes to get to?" You dismiss them. Even if it is a lie, you're not going to bore them with your home troubles. How do you tell anyone, more so your students, that your wife is busy banging her personal trainer?
"No sir, we're free for a whole hour now. And I don't know about Dani here, but I'm hoping to use this time for some hard studying."
Hanni's leaning on your desk as you're scooping up some papers into your bag. She has one hand placed on the back of the other, planted on the edge of the desk, and she's leaning forward. Add to that how she has conveniently not managed to fasten the top three buttons of her blouse and you have quite the sight. Dani is a couple of steps behind her, slowly making her way forward. You can see that she, too, is in no great rush to fully button her shirt.
"Well, I'm sure you girls know where the library is, now if you'll excuse me—"
"I really hope you don't mind, professor, but…" She shoots a quick glance back at Dani's over her shoulder and winks at her. "My best friend over here has some trouble understanding the material. Perhaps you wouldn't mind giving her a hand?"
"Yeah, sir, I really need it." Dani is pressing herself against Hanni, chest to back, and resting her chin on her shoulder. "Your material is really... hard." Hanni giggles a little at her friend and sways her ass back into her best friend, encouraging a giggle of her own. Both girls seem to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.
These two sweet things are painted in mischief, with their hands around each other, framing themselves as the duo that could keep you happy and fulfilled with round after round of stress-relieving sex.
Stop it. You can't do this.
"Ladies..." You begin to protest.
"We would be ever so grateful to you, sir. Isn't that right, Hanni?"
"So grateful."
"And believe me, we are very willing to learn." Dani slips her hand down Hanni's front, tucking it into the opening of her shirt. It's brazen and shameless. You shouldn't be watching, but you can't seem to pry your eyes away from what's happening. What's more, you can feel your cock swelling up at the sight of it.
"Ladies. I'm a professional and I would never—"
"Then why are you always staring, professor?" Hanni confronts you. "When I sit at the front and I catch you looking at my legs. And then I open them a little, and pull up my skirt for you..."
"You like her legs, professor?" Dani continues the barrage, pulling up the hem of Hanni's skirt. "You like to stare at them?"
"He always stares at them, and he thinks I don't notice." Hanni giggles softly.
"And I bet he goes home and thinks about your legs when he—"
"Girls. Enough." Your face is burning up and you know they see it.
"It's okay professor, I like it. I'm sure we have had some very similar thoughts about each other, actually." Hanni lowers her tone and you shift in place, tugging at your collar. When did it get this hot in here? She keeps talking, telling you: "When I go home and I lie on my bed, I lift up my skirt and spread my legs. I just wish you were over me. Pinning me down and—"
"Stop."
Dani can't hold back her gentle laughter. "What's wrong sir? You seem so stressed recently. I think this is—we are—exactly what you need." There's a soft whine in her voice, one that's cooing at you—enticing you.
Hanni starts to move and Dani slips away from her, freeing her from her grasp. Hanni puts one knee up on the desk between you, and then the other, and perches herself on it. It's enthralling for a multitude of reasons, but if anything, it's the sweet and eager smile on her face that's most alluring. Her soft voice gets your heart beating hard, "I don't want my favourite teacher to be stressed. You can do anything you like to me. Anything you want." You glance down at her and it might be those big brown eyes, or how she tucks a lock of her long hair behind her ear waiting for your answer, but you start to concede to the reality. Then your eyes fall. Further and further to that gap between her half-open blouse. She says please and her words take on a life of their own, fluttering right to your stiffening cock.
You want this. Maybe even need this.
"Miss Pham..." You trail off in failed protest. Dani rounds the table until she is stood by your side, she places a hand on your shoulder, which her face barely reaches. Her other hand brushes over your waist then to your belt and she wraps a finger around it, gently tugging you closer and saying, "so sir, how can we help relieve your stress?"
Fuck. Fuck it.
You reach out for Hanni, placing your hand on her cheek and she melts into your touch. You pull her to you and it's almost magnetic as you feel her lips pressing into yours and her tits pressing into your chest.
Kiss her. Kiss her slowly, and while it might look like she's innocent, deep down her lips are beginning to soak with desire, and you're kissing that into her. Her hands start to grab at your blazer, pulling herself closer to you and she lets out a moan into your mouth, and you return by brushing your tongue onto hers.
You run hands down her sides. She's so feminine and her body is trim and fit, small but plump in the right places. Further you touch until you’re going over her hips and to her ass. You tease her with a light rub before you grip firm at her soft, bare skin. She breaks the kiss as you do that, her breathy whine lets you know you're doing something right.
"Professor..." Hanni whispers to you, with lust on her tongue and in her eyes.
"Yes professor," Dani encourages. "She likes that. I like that."
Dani shifts behind you, pressing her lithe frame against you and wrapping her arms around your torso. She brings her hands down to your belt, clumsily trying to unbuckle it. Hanni slips her hands over your shoulders and tugs at your blazer. You shrug it off and then you slip off your tie, holding it in your hand.
Hanni whispers, "I have been naughty professor, staring at your cock during class." She brings her hand behind her ass, burying her fingers into the flesh. "Would you like to spank me?"
You bring your tie up to Hanni's neck, wrapping it around once, and then holding both ends in one hand. You twist the fabric around your fist, tightening the grip until you have full control of her. You pull your hand out the side, and Hanni fumbles and slides on the desk, knocking papers onto the floor. You have her where you want her—on all fours, side on, with her ass in the air.
You flip up her skirt, revealing her plump ass. The fabric of her panties pulled taut between her full cheeks. The skin begs to be marked.
Dani begs you to mark it. "Spank her sir," Dani whispers. "She's so bad. She needs a good spanking."
"Yes. I deserve it. Spank me, sir." Hanni hangs her head, submitting herself.
You pull tight on the tie, gently choking her, and then raise your other hand over her ass. You bring it down hard with a loud smack and Hanni hisses in pain. You only care to watch how the supple flesh gives way to your strike.
"Sir, I... I just—" Hanni loses her voice as you bring your hand down hard onto her again, giving her what Dani so eagerly begs for you to do. You lift your hand and deliver three hard, spanking strikes. Each time your hand comes crashing down on her ass, you pull on the tie and her body reels forward, and her hands scramble for purchase.
"Sir. I'm sorry. I was being naughty. Please, hurt me." With each hit, she apologises. But it's Dani's whimpered gasps that leave a warm stirring in your cock. This is getting her off as much as you. With all that bottled frustration inside you, the way Hanni writhes, and the eagerness from Dani, you really feel some kind of relief here. You give Hanni one more heavy spank, forcing an erotic whine of satisfaction from her that sends a twinge into your groin.
For all her fumbling, Dani finally springs your cock free from your underwear. She stays behind you, reaching her hands around to grab it. Her nimble fingers wrap around your stiff cock. As Hanni struggles to recover, you loosen the tie and Dani tries pumping up and down your shaft, stuttering in her awkward grip, and though somewhat sloppy, her youthful eagerness works its charm. And when Dani's delicate and feminine laughter tickles your ear with how much she's enjoying your cock, well, how can you complain?
You gently back away from the desk, pulling slightly at the tie like a leash and encouraging Hanni to follow you. You tug her upwards until she is back on her feet and then you lean into her ear, whispering, "on your knees."
She breaks out a soft whine, like a scolded dog being denied a toy. She shoots you back that puppy-dog expression, "but sir..." and you pull gently again on the tie. She drops to her knees, between you and the desk. "Well done. Good girls deserve rewards." You praise Hanni's obedience, but that grin on her lips means there is something deceitful buried in that submission.
Dani realises what's about to happen, stops rubbing your cock and steps to your side. She keeps one hand on it, guiding it as you step forward. Hanni's mouth falls open and her tongue wets her lips in anticipation.
Dani plays with your length against Hanni's lips. She rubs the tip of it up and down along the wet surface of her tongue. Hanni's nostrils flare and a warm breath flies over your wet tip as she gasps. She opens wide, waiting.
Dani hesitates, asking, "sir, I can't stop playing with it, it's so nice. May I lick it?"
"Let her lick it, sir," Hanni begs, keeping her mouth open, her pink tongue poking out. She adds: "Please."
"Let me taste your cock." Dani pleads and you nod to her, eyes sparkle, and her soft-painted lips part into a sweet smile.
Your tip rests tantalisingly against Hanni's lower lip. Her tongue occasionally brushes against it. Dani has dropped to her knees, leading with her tongue, and lapping a warm wet heat against your base and over your balls. Your tip pulses against the entrance of Hanni's mouth and you can feel the warm breath flowing over you again and again. Her breathing gets heavier, watching Dani work at your balls.
Hanni brings her lips together into a kiss, right on the tip. Another breathy kiss on the head, and then she drags her tongue along her lips, sticking it out and gliding her wet tongue along the underside of your stiff cock. You can't wait any longer. You push slightly and Dani realises, ducking out of the way so you can drive between Hanni's plump lips.
Both your hands find back of Hanni's head, your fingers getting knotted in her locks and your palms resting on her, and you slowly, gently, push her down on you.
You find a rhythm with your hips, slowly pumping into her lips. She relaxes into you, and she sucks and she laps her tongue against you. Dani watches in amazement. "How does she feel, professor?"
You grunt with satisfaction, affirming your pleasure with a moan and then Dani breaks back out into laughter, "I think she likes it too. Don't you Hanni?" Hanni nods as your slide in and out of her, but she never breaks the seal on your cock.
Dani continues teasing her friend, saying, "I think she likes sucking on it, I've always wanted to suck on professor's cock. I'm so jealous." Dani pulls open the buttons of her shirt. There's no bra underneath, and her perky little breasts are perfect. She slips her hand into her shirt to cup one of her little mounds. She brings two fingers into her mouth too, imitating Hanni. She wets two fingers with her lips and she then runs them over her plump nipple. Hanni hums around your cock, picking up on the encouragement.
"Dani." You grunt. For all your hesitation earlier, you're fully invested now and ready to bark your commands to your two playthings. "Get on my desk, spread for me." You add, "now." It's Hanni who flutters her eyes and pants a breathy moan around you, sounding her approval to your command. Dani, under your authority, obeys without question. She stands, climbs onto your table and perches her ass right in the centre and brings the heels of her feet up to the edge of the desk, either side of Hanni.
Dani pulls open her shirt, letting it fall off her shoulders. Revealing maybe the tightest body you've ever seen. Her button-up shirts usually did a good job of covering how slender her body was, but there had been times before—times when she probably did it on purpose—when she had worn a tight shirt that showed you a little more. That's how you always knew she had a slutty little waist. But seeing it bare, now? In all its toned glory? It's enough to drive you insane. Then your eyes hit her cute, dainty tits. Her nipples, as perky as her personality.
"Do you like my tits, professor?" Dani asks. You don't answer, just shifting your eyesight between the lust her body calls for and your cock sliding into Hanni's throat. Dani protests your distraction and she cups her tiny tits and pinches her pointed nipples. "Hey. I'm showing you, sir, look."
Again, no words for her. Just keep indulging. Keep savouring it. Slide in and out. Fuck Hanni's mouth until her throat can't take any more.
Dani pouts and she leans back. She spreads her legs open, hiking her skirt up to show you those black panties, and then her fingers rub across the fabric. She demands your attention. She has it, of course, but the silence is a game. A power play you can't help. But she is getting frustrated, pushing the fabric of her underwear to one side and slipping her fingers against herself.
Her pussy is pretty and pink. Small, tight and nestled between her spread thighs. She pulls open her wet lips, and her chest heaves and she asks, "what about my pussy, professor? My tight little cunt?" Dani speaks to you in that bratty, spoiled tone, desperate for your attention.
Hanni slips her lips off you with a pop. She's desperately chasing her breath, gasping for air. She wraps her hand around your slick, shiny cock. The glistening is her own work. You catch her looking up at you, her mascara is a little runny—a wet splash of black around her eyes—and her hair sticks to her damp skin. Her eyes pierce right into your soul, and you can tell how pleased she is that you want her like this. She gently strokes your length. "He wants you Dani, I can see it in his eyes."
Dani brings up her other hand, sinking a finger inside herself. "I want his cock. I want your long hard cock professor. Inside me. Please. Please, use my little cunt."
You glance down at Hanni. Do you make her feel less special now? You have a hard time pulling yourself from her; you'd love to cum all over her face but Dani demands your attention. The thought that this tight little pussy might finally satiate your frustrations and longing gets the better of you. You bring a hand under Hanni’s chin and guide her to her feet, letting your tie hang loose around her neck. 
"I want you to watch. If you're good for me," you plant a soft kiss on Hanni's cheek, "then, after, I'll let you ride my cock."
"You promise?" Hanni gives you a wide-eyed and hopeful look.
You smile at her without a word, stepping past her and towards the spread and waiting Danielle. You place your hands on the inside of her thighs and you have to break out a smile when you feel her flesh burning under your touch. You pull her to the edge of the table until her ass is on the edge, and her body is ready for the taking.
You can't resist the feeling as you rub the swollen end of your cock between her folds. She whimpers, pushing her head back with each pass. "Professor." She whimpers. "Teach me. Teach me how to be a good little toy. I know my grades are bad but I'm gonna do better if you fill me with that big, hard cock of yours."
She's tighter than you ever could have imagined. Just the head and she's wincing. You groan back a similar whimper when the hot, clenching little cunt embraces the tip of your cock.
"Sir, I think you're too big for her." Hanni runs a hand through your hair.
"No!" Danielle refutes, instantly. "I can take it. I want it." She locks her stare with you, her defiance against her friend behind those watery eyes. Dani draws her bottom lip into her mouth as you draw deeper into her.
"How's it feel Dani?" Hanni asks, leaning over the desk by her side, before planting a few kisses to her exposed shoulders.
"Stretch—" Dani groans, struggling.
"Stretched by professor's big, hard dick." Hanni finishes the thought for her.
"Yeah," Dani manages as you push deeper.
Hanni is right there and is just too much to resist, bent over the desk with her skirt still pushed to her hips. Her red, swollen ass is on display. You can't even try to stop yourself. The glowing flesh taunting you.
You grab and you squeeze at her ass, digging your fingers into the wounded flesh. As Hanni is encouraging Dani, whispering soft words into her ear, you take a moment to spank her one more time. One heavy-handed slap against her ass and Hanni spits a grunt into Dani's ear.
There's not even a flinch as Dani's focus is on one thing only—you slowly fucking her tight cunt. You're driving your hips into her slowly, going deeper each time. Dani can't hold it in anymore, her soft mewling moans erupt into deeper, lustier vocalisations. Every gyration of her hips has a new feeling flowing into your cock. Hanni's hand snakes between the pair of you, finding her little clit and poking at it.
Dani collapses back against the desk and Hanni over her, tasting her body with soft kisses. It's back to her you shift your focus, slip her underwear off and let it fall to her ankles. You run your hand again over her stained flesh, this time driving towards her pussy as you do. That welcoming gap at the top of her thighs invites your fingers in. She is soaked. So beautifully aroused for you, and eager for the experience.
"Tell me how wet you are."
"Sir, I'm so wet," Hanni replies, punctuated by another giggle. "So wet for you, sir." She twists her head up and you run a finger over her pink slit, dipping the fingertip in and retrieving more wetness. She pushes back against your finger, desperate for you. So you curl two fingers into her and push deep into her heat.
"Yes. Fuck, yes." Hanni whimpers. A soft whine against Dani's skin.
With two girls beneath you now, them both whimpering in desperation, you pick up the pace and fuck harder into Dani. She braces her hands behind her against the table, hanging on. With the impact of your body crashing into her, her body shakes on the desk. Your thrusts cause Hanni's body to react too, you feel her pussy pulsing around your fingers and her soft whimpers slip into short, gasping breaths.
Your pelvis slaps into Dani's thighs over and over, and her legs tremble against you. Her elbows buckle. She fights a long and hard battle, but she's failing. "Sir. I'm gonna—" She can't even finish what she wants to say before her toes curl, her chest heaves, and she begins to tremble.
Hanni tells you the obvious between her hitched breaths, "she's cumming sir. Fuck, sir. You made Dani cum."
Dani lets go, she whimpers and moans with no shame and her body rides the wave of bliss. You slow and turn your attention to Hanni, breaking out your fingers. She quickly slips her hand behind and takes your fingers in hers, sliding them into her mouth, and swirling her tongue around them. You smile at her deviously. She smiles that innocent face back at you.
After a pause, Dani still squirming and spent beneath you, Hanni breaks from sucking on your fingers. "Can I ride your cock now, Sir?" She's so sweetly, sincerely, asking you for your permission.
Your tie still hangs loose over Hanni's neck, you reach for it and pull it taut once again. You step back, drawing your length out of Danielle and stepping back toward your chair. You're pulling Hanni along, giving her an answer unspoken. Hanni doesn't need any more persuasion than that. You tug slightly and she scrambles to her feet. As you're sitting, you give the tie another quick jerk, a playful little gesture and she tumbles to her knees once again.
"Sir..." she whispers, her eyes dark with a growing lust and burning hot with the rising urges. Hanni crawls towards you, stopping when she finds your thighs. Without hesitation, her fingers find your length. "I spent so many lectures watching you sitting here, just wishing I could play with your cock." She runs her hand up and down your length. You groan softly in response, encouraging her. "I would sit and stare. Did you ever notice?"
You smirk and think back. The thing is that you could never really tell. She was always staring as you taught, but it was never obvious that she was actually listening. Hanni never took notes; maybe the innocence in you just assumed she had a great memory. But the truth is so much more salacious than that. To think—to know—that all along this is what she had on her dirty little mind? Well, it's thrilling.
"Maybe," you play coy.
"These weeks have been excruciating. How could you make my pussy throb, and just ask me to sit and take notes? My hand was trembling and shaking, holding my pen, as I tried to come up with answers to your questions. The entire time I just kept hoping that you would drag me up here and have your way with me. You should have..." All the while she's been talking and unbuttoning her top fully then shrugging it off.
Hanni presses her chest forward against your shaft as she's perched over you, teasing you with the friction of her bra. "Hanni, all those short skirts you wore. Did you know that sometimes when I sat here I could see underneath them?" You can play this game too.
"Oh professor..." she giggles softly. "Do you know how wrong it is to look at your students like that?" For all this teasing on you checking her out, she still persists in undressing, unclasping her bra behind her and letting it fall to reveal her soft mounds. "Shame on you, professor." Hanni feigns a look of disgust that slowly melts into a beaming smile.
She strokes your length again, this time rubbing the tip of your cock, still stained in Dani's cum, against her nipples. "Do you remember last week, sir? When I had to get up and leave. I went to the bathroom and..." Hanni trails off, a little embarrassed. Your focus slips away and onto her delicate body, her perfect perky tits, and her gentle swaying movements as she pushes against you.
"You couldn't hold it in anymore. Could you Hanni?" She purses her lips and shakes her head slowly. "Tell me what you did."
"I ran into the bathroom, and slammed the stall door behind me." She guides your cock down between the soft pillows of her breasts. "And I leaned against the wall and slipped my hand inside my skirt and panties. And the throbbing was unbearable..." Hanni closes her eyes, moaning to herself as she tries to relive the moment in her mind. "I thought about you. Thought about doing this and..." she squeezes her breasts together, "and I came right there."
Dani slips off the table and comes towards you, perching on the arm of the chair. "She's not the only one, sir. Just last night I thought about you as I fucked my pillow." While Dani feeds you her fantasies, Hanni is still playing with your cock between her tits. It doesn't look like she ever wants to stop.
"Did you?" The slight hitch in your voice makes Dani's smile sparkle.
"Yes sir, and we're not the only girls who—"
Hanni shushes Dani with a quick scorn, and whatever confession she was about to make, Hanni stops her, "that's private Dani, don't go spoiling it for her."
Danielle laughs softly to herself. "Right, girls like secrets. Sorry, Sir, we can't say any more, but we will make it up to you, won't we Hanni?"
Hanni nods eagerly as she climbs up onto her feet. Danielle reaches over and pushes Hanni's skirt from her hips, leaving her finally, fully bare in front of you. You take a moment to admire while you can. You could bathe in the memory of Hanni, naked and brimming with desire.
It is the beauty of Hanni's body, yes, but even more, it's her gaze when she catches you admiring the sight. Such raw, unfiltered joy shines through her eyes. That is what gets you. The sweet, simple, pleasure she is enjoying is on display.
She steps over you and climbs onto your lap. She places both hands on your chest and leans into you. For a second you forget how to breathe; her face mere inches away from yours and those big, soulful eyes so dangerously deep. She kisses you softly, tender and careful. You're completely engulfed. Nothing else matters. Not the ungodly amount of work you have to do later tonight. Not tomorrow's damn tedious seminar session. Your focus now is Hanni and what she's about to do.
"Professor," she hums so sweetly in your ear, "I've been thinking about you all week. How much I want to ride your cock. Do you know how much I want it?" You slide your hands around her small, soft waist, grasping at the smooth surface of her back.
She holds your cock in one hand as she rises up on her knees, nestling herself over you. She looks you in the eye as she lowers onto you. You look back. You want to know what her reaction will be when you enter her. That is worth the wait.
There's that soft gasp. Tender. Breathless. Almost speechless.
"How does that feel?" Dani asks you, leaning into your ear, and kissing at the skin.
You go to speak. Your voice croaks and falters as Hanni begins to roll her hips into you. Soft, almost imperceptibly light bounces at first. You correct your voice, "fuck, perfect."
"Does my pussy feel good, professor?" Hanni's fucking you slowly, and you respond to her question by gripping tightly around her waist and pushing up hard into her. She holds your gaze as she begins to up her tempo. Flesh on flesh, clapping as you crash into each other. Hanni takes your hands in her own, guiding them to her breasts, placing her fingers on yours and gently squeezing her soft tits.
Dani is biting at your ear from behind, her hands running down over your body as she whispers into your ear, "do you like her tits professor?" Dani pulls your shirt open and her delicate fingers roll over your nipples. "They look so nice to touch. To grab. How do they feel?"
Warmth spills over you. You’re sitting there, letting Hanni—little innocent thing—ride you like an animal. Your cock feels snug inside her, tightly clenching around you. Dani is kissing at your neck and shoulders and Hanni is playing her little games.
"This is even better than I imagined, professor, but my legs..." She sucks in air through her teeth, struggling to continue as you penetrate her. "My legs need a rest. Will you put me on the desk?" Her soft voice, still so innocent despite what she's doing, somehow only thickens the lust.
You nod. You have no more words. Wrapping your hands around Hanni, you carry her, on your cock to the desk. Hanni slips back onto the desk and lets her head fall backwards. Eyes glued closed in total bliss. She mutters through a heaving breath, "you're fucking me. Fuck." Like she can't believe it's real.
You hook her legs, bringing them over your shoulders, resting the heels on you as you use the leverage to pump against her.
"Professor," Hanni's hands are tightly gripped onto your forearms, "are you going to cum inside me?" She opens her eyes just enough to let you know she's watching your response, a smile turning up the sides of her lips.
"Yeah." Dani can't help adding from your side, again touching your body. "Cum inside her professor. I think she needs it bad. Don't you?" Dani tilts her head at Hanni, questioning her.
"Yes. Give it to me professor." Her reply, direct, assured and daring, leaves no room for question.
Hanni's back arches and she groans again, this time with more hunger in her voice. "Please, professor. I want to feel you."
Your orgasm begins to stir inside you. Still, you restrain yourself, continuing to thrust into Hanni as she closes her eyes, pouting her lips and writhing under your control. It's the most magnificent thing to watch, how this once delicate and unassuming young woman is now transformed by lust.
"Look at me Hanni," you command her. Hanni's eyes slip open and meet yours. She whines softly as you drive into her. "I'm going to fucking cum inside you." You can hardly believe the words falling from your lips as you give Hanni the tainted energy of your thoughts.
Dani clings to your shoulder, encouraging you. "Don't stop professor. Please cum inside her."
It's at that point you have to wonder how long these two have been conspiring about this. All to culminate in this moment. This moment that fast approaches, about to crash into you in your inevitable—but long-awaited—release. Your breathing hikes, reaching a pinnacle, and the grip on Hanni's waist tightens. You bury yourself to the hilt as you slow to your final movements.
Hanni runs her hand through the strands of her hair stuck to her forehead. Gripping herself as she feels it inside her. A pleasured smile on her radiating face. You're emptying into her. Everything you have. Your entire fucking self. You're pumping inside her and filling her up. You keep your eyes glued to hers.
"Oh, fuck yes, professor. He's cumming Dani." Hanni throws her head back against the table, shaking and trembling and slowly melting into euphoria. You drop her legs, pressing your hands on either side of her, just trying not to lose balance while waves of pleasure crash around your body.
Dani strokes at your back, caressing your shoulders with her delicate little fingers, giggling with appreciation. "If only you knew how long she has been waiting for you to do that." She gently pulls on your shoulders, drawing you out of Hanni and back towards your chair. Your whole body collapses into the leather.
Dani kneels by your feet, looking up at you, a smile that dances on her lips and delight in her glittering eyes. "Can I clean you off, professor?"
You have nothing left to give. A nod is the only thing you have strength for.
Dani's tongue laps against your cock—hot, wet, and hungry.
Hanni is still coming down from a high. Naked, used and breathless, she rises to her elbows and smiles mischievously.
You look down at Dani. Licking. Cleaning your spent cock. She's careful and caring with her touch and tongue. But the smirk tells it all—she wants to taste as much of you as you can offer. And she wants you hard again, ready to give to her as you did to Hanni.
In that silent understanding, there is another, too. You look back to Hanni, and you know in your gut that this isn't a one-off. Study hard—those were her words. Little studying happened, but there's more than one way to improve a grade. And if these girls want to be in your class next semester, and if you want them, then maybe a little extra credit wouldn't hurt.
Yeah, this is definitely not the end. Not for today, not for a long time.
A/N: Well I managed to cobble this together in just two days, and it's a bit of a throwback to my old style which feels right given it's two years since I first started. This one was just plain porn, but the next fic, folie a deux part 4, will have a lot more character work that I'm excited to share. Thanks for reading <3
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inkyray · 1 month
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INKED
MATT STURNIOLO
a/n: this is my first oneshot and i deadass have no idea what im doing, go easy on me. im so used to writing full stories i kind of struggle with stand alone oneshots but yeah, i appreciate constructive criticism
3.6k words
warnings/content ahead: the bitch is getting tattooed yall, smut, p in v, brief fingering, degrading, hair pulling, the plot that leads up to the smut is longer than the smut itself ☠️
You felt the prickly needle press ink in and out of your flesh, it spared small stings that you didn't exactly hate. Nick sat on his living room couch not far away from you, but still far enough to raise his voice a little so you could properly hear him. He had a good bond with the tattoo artist, and she didn't mind coming to his house to ink him up.
Nick sat with his short sleeve rolled above his shoulder, revealing a tattoo he had just got done with. His shoulder is sore and red, covered in a layer of antibiotic ointment and plastic wrap. Earlier today he had invited you over, since he knew how long you've been wanting a tattoo, and you had decided you know what, fuck it. You tagged along. You and Nick are close, he's one of your only best friends in LA, since it isn't really where you're originally from. You two would hang out any chance the other was free.
It often got annoying for his other brothers how much you were around, but they had caught a quick loving for you and found the place empty and weird when you weren't there, considering how much you were with Nick.
The buzzing of the tattoo machine filled the silent void before it was interrupted by a TikTok Nick was watching on full volume, making you two laugh as the tattoo artist held down on your waist to keep you from messing her up. You were getting a tramp stamp tattoo on your lower back, your sweatpants folded right on where your underwear begins.
A few minutes pass of just buzzing, your stinging skin, loud TikToks, and the smell of antiseptic.
"We should make a TikTok." Nick announced after a while. You raise an eyebrow, "Now?" you wondered. Nick nods, taking the throw blanket from off of him and getting up. "I don't know Nick, kind of in the middle of getting a tattoo." You smiled up at him as he got closer. You were laying on your stomach, your body against the black leather chair wrapped in plastic, but your elbows kept the rest of your body that weren't your ribs, up, so you could use your phone.
"Oh please, you look hot as hell right now." He stood, chuckling. You rolled your eyes. "Nick. I'm in sweatpants and a tank." Nick looked at you from his phone, tapping a few things on there which you assumed had to do with TikTok. He quite literally sighed. "You are so unaware of yourself, girl."
You shrugged and blew him a kiss. "So TikTok or nah? I want to do, like a transition of our tattoos and us lip syncing to some shit song from the 2010's. I already made a draft of myself doing it before I got this bad boy." He points to his new splotchy tattoo of the bat on his shoulder. "Yeah, guess so. You're gonna have to film me in the midst of getting my tattoo, though. I didn't exactly record myself before this."
With the press of a time skip button, you guys filmed the TikTok, posted it, and Nick declared he was tired, going for a nap to his room. This wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be asleep with you here, you'd do it all the time when he was at your place, and either one of you guys eventually followed in the others footsteps, finishing whatever you were doing and going to lay beside them to sleep too.
The front door of the house opened, and you already knew it was Matt and Chris. They were running errands for their manager and Nick had decided to stay behind with you, since you were planning on getting tattoos together. Footsteps creep into the place and you wait for their reaction. They didn't exactly know you were also getting one, and they knew about your commitment issues with tattoos, so this was kind of a big deal.
Chris walks in first and doesn't even turn to look at you, assuming you were Nick getting tattooed. "You're still getting inked? How big is your bat supposed to be, Nick." He grabs a Pepsi from the fridge and pops it open. "Pretty big." You answered, your head resting on your palm as he turned to look at you, Matt following closely behind.
"Oh, shit."  Chris gulps down the Pepsi, walking over to you as he inspects the tattoo on your lower back. "How does it look?" You question as you see Matt stop in his tracks and come closer to get a better look at it. "Fucking sexy. Good job." He holds out his fist and you bump it, smiling at the comment.
You feel Matt's gaze linger too long on your skin as Chris goes back into the kitchen, making another comment about the tattoo you didn't quite catch. The stinging on your back now feels ice cold. "What do you think, Matt?" You wonder, turning your head slightly to look at him.
"Bold. For someone like you." He mutters, walking over to the kitchen to grab a root beer, maneuvering around Chris since he's constantly in his way. You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Is Nick sleeping?" Chris asks, you nod, he quickly goes looking for him.
"What I mean is that it's a tattoo decision I would've never thought you'd pick." Matt says, looking at you from the kitchen as he sips from his drink. This could mean so many things and you found yourself getting confused. What? "Matt, I'm gonna need you to elaborate."
It wasn't a secret that you were the least closest with Matt. Everytime you'd try to do the things you'd do with Nick but with him, there'd be some sort of thick invisible fog in the air, making you hyper-aware of everything you're doing and saying. Your chest always felt too heavy around Matt and the tension it weighed on you was too much. It wasn't normal, and you were sure Matt could feel it too. You knew a lot of stuff about him, and he knew a lot about you, but there was something between you two keeping you from taking the extra step of declaring you guys close.
He lets his eye's dart everywhere in thought, putting together how he's going to explain it to you. "Mmmm," he mumbles, "...no." He decides as he begins to leave the room, stopping in his tracks before he fully leaves, peeking his head around the corner. "You look good though, what Chris said." And he leaves.
You are beyond confused, you turn your head toward the tattoo artist, who was sharing the same look on her face. She spared you a shrug.
-
It's been a few weeks and your tattoo is fully healed, you loved the way you felt with it. The urge to get a million more tattoos on you was strong, but you held back.
On the other hand, being around Matt had begun getting more unbearable by the day. When you two were left alone, there was nothing to talk about. You would shift uncomfortably and he would bring out his phone as a distraction, doing nothing significant on it other than switch between apps. You were too aware of the other and the air around you would increasingly thicken. You were sure if you tried, you could slice through it with a knife.
Right now, was one of those times. Matt in the driver's seat and you were in the middle back seat, Chris and Nick had gone inside a store to grab a few stuff.
You watched his fingers tap the steering wheel, his thumb patiently rubbing against it, studying the fact they were slender and long, trained by veins that went down his hands. They looked so perfect under the gleaming hour of the sun. His nails weren't painted, so his short nails naturally colored themselves pink with a small white hill on his thumb. You let your imagination run free. Touching the dip of your waist or massaging the inside of your thigh. His fingers curving themselves inside you…
His eyes darted at the rear mirror, catching you focused on his hands. It took you a second too long to realize that. You looked up at the mirror and found his blue eyes fixated on you, dark hair sitting across his forehead and strands messily on his eyes. Your heart gave you a loud thump and a punch in the face of flushing blood. You didn't look away from his eyes, but you could still see his thumb grazing against the steering wheel.
Your brain was empty of words. You had no idea what to say and you were sure neither did he, until he began to speak. "What ever happened to that tattoo?" He asked, still looking at you from the mirror. You furrowed your eyebrows. It takes you a second until you realize he was talking about the tramp stamp you have. "It ran away." You answered blankly, because what kind of question was that supposed to be.
Matt sighed, looking out of the window, you watched him look outside as you calculated the messy hair that didn't seem too bad to pull on. "I mean, it never made an appearance again. No one ever saw it ever since you got it." He said. A small smile forms onto your mouth. "Some people have seen it." You mutter lightly, not bothering to look away from him as he goes back looking at you.
"Is that so?" He wasn't smiling, his face was processing a look of annoyance. You wink.
The car doors are pulled open and in one sudden movement, Chris comes in with a laugh and sits next to you, Nick follows closely behind, chuckling in that deep-voiced way he does after he made a joke he was proud of, and seating himself in the passenger seat. "Why are you sitting here?" Matt questions, not bothering to ask what they're laughing at. Chris takes out a Mento and offers you one, you reluctantly take it and let it sit in your mouth, wanting to suck the flavor out before you chew it.
Nick laughs even harder. "Oh, I didn't even realize I was sitting here. Chris, and you just let me?" Chris cackles, "It doesn't matter Nick, it's just the passenger seat." He puts an arm around you. "Plus I wanted to sit with her." He tells you specifically, looking at you as he begins to chew the Mento. "How I am honored." You sarcastically put a hand to your heart, not once taking your eyes off Matt. He was expressionless and began driving.
The conversation held on and turned into a different topic, you would make sly remarks here and there but for you, the entire ride home was hard. Matt would catch you staring at him, and when he had to turn the car back with his hand behind Nick's headrest, he would look at you longer than the road behind him. He didn't look really… pleased. Which had you amused.
He was upset that he wasn't one of the people who got to see your tattoo finished and healed, and you were catching onto that. The longer they'd drive, the more stern his expression would shift. He got progressively more and more irritated throughout the ride.
They make it home and Matt doesn't even give you a glance, he immediately heads to his bedroom and makes it known by his silence he'd like to be left alone. Okay, drama queen. You thought.
You had to go see what was up, it was just in you. After the conversation you two barely had and the eye content you held, which you were pretty sure was a hallucination you pulled out of your ass, you were curious to see just how riled up he was. Or you could get him.
Chris and Nick get a call from their manager saying she's outside, picking them up so she could explain to Nick something that had to do with their merch. Apparently she already spoke about it to Matt, so it'd just be Chris and Nick going to their studio warehouse to see, since that's where all their merch first goes.When they leave, your thought process changes in a matter of seconds. Seeing how upset he is, you want to see how hard you could push his buttons.
You approach his room and knock 3 times. No answer is received, you raise your fist to knock a second time, and by the first knock the door is pulled half open, revealing Matt looking down at you, expecting you. "What?" He asks, his eyelids drooping as he looks at you blankly. He changed into gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.
"Can I come lay down next to you? I barely got any sleep last night." You lightly fluttered your lashes at him, holding your phone with both your hands. Matt stares at you, inspecting just how tired you looked. You looked fine, but he still opened the door wide enough for you to enter, not saying anything.
You lay on his silk bed sheets. Silk. What a slut. He sits in front of his computer, and boots open a game, not bothering to acknowledge you here. You don't like that. After leaving yourself alone with your thoughts for a while today, the least thing you wanted was to be ignored. Especially by him. Even if it meant annoying him, you just wanted to have some sort of contact with him. Either verbally or physically, you don't mind a single bit.
You clear your throat. "Thanks, Matty." He grimaces at the nickname, used to hearing his family say to him, but not from you. "My legs have been hurting all day." You say, cuddling into his pillows, stretching hard enough to arch your back. A real yawn escapes your lips.
"You don't work out, don't play that dumb shit with me." He says, turning his head to look at you for a moment, before turning back to look at his monitor. "Who said anything about working out?" You tell him. He stops, completely forgetting what he was supposed to be looking at.
"I don't know, I guess my tattoo really does magical wonders for me." A smile slips through your lips as you turn the other direction, your back facing him as your shirt exposes the tattoo, your pants hanging dangerously low on your hips.
You can't see him, but you hear him turn, and you feel yourself getting excited. "Why'd you get it?" He asks and you turn your head softly to look at him. His question was simple, but the expression on his face certainly wasn't. "Why does anybody really get a tramp stamp, Matty?" You respond to his question with another one, and he is giving you a look of impatience.
"Just fucking answer me right now, sweetheart." His voice isn't loud, but his anger is. He practically huffs and you feel yourself getting immensely more attracted to his aggressiveness. You turn your head back to the other side, leaving him unanswered as he burns holes in the back of hair, knowing that would tick him off.
You hear shuffling and then the bed dips, and your heart literally does skip a beat. You swallow your built up spit down your throat as Matt grasps your jaw and makes you look at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones immediately. "Don't look away from me, y/n. Why'd you get that fucking tattoo?" He held your jaw firmly. He was on the bed rooted on his knees, looking down at you as you laid on his pillows.
Your smile somehow got wider, flashing him your white teeth as you slowly parted them to answer. "So you could fuck me." Your eyes were staring intensely at him but in a lazy manner.
Matt's eyes narrowed, darting between your eyes and your mouth. "You fucking whore." He muttered, his lips pressing onto yours so much faster than you could say the word 'whore' itself. Your eyes screwed itself shut and took the opportunity as fast as you could, kissing him back harsher.
He let go of the kiss too quickly, which only frustrated you. "You got that tattooed for me, baby?" He wonders, his voice is hoarse and breathy. You nod so fast your hold almost fell off, and as embarrassing as it was, it was true.
You had only 1 body since before the tattoo, and you barely even counted it. Constantly being around Matt but not knowing how to go about it made you more desperate. He did something to you no one had ever done. Sometimes you would feel yourself pulsing for him, imagining your fingers as his.
The reason why you had even begun considering a tramp stamp is because of the sick fantasies that they held, using Matt as its lead.
Recently you got laid, and it was underwhelming and disappointing. Your legs actually hurted because you did a few squats the day prior, not because the sex was good.
"You fucking liar." He was smiling but nothing in his tone was friendly, his eyebrows were furrowed but his grin was undeniable. You licked his mouth and he pressed against your lips. "I wouldn't lie to you, Matty." You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand trail down your body and to your waist. A hand was on the dip of your waist and the other was holding your jaw secure.
Your heart was quite literally out of its body now, his soft hand trailing to feel your bare skin under your shirt, grazing just the hill of your bare chest, purposely not touching your nipples. In a sudden movement, he cups your breast and your whimper is muffled under the kiss.
He has his knees caging both sides of your thigh, pressing his knee into you. He smirks as you gasp.  "Lift your hips for me?" He pulls away, a small string of saliva connecting you two. You look straight at his eyes as you lift them, making sure he holds eye contact. And he does. He does as he curls his fingers along the strap of your pants and shoves them off.
"Let me see it." He orders. You grin, raising an eyebrow. "That could go for a lot of stuff." He grabs the side of your underwear and lets go of it, having it snap against your skin. "The tattoo. I want to see it." His voice is more demanding, more gruffly. Your pussy was soaked.
"No." You tell him all with a sly smile, you liked him aggressive and didn't mind seeing how far he'd go. In a sudden movement, you are flipped to your stomach, your hair is being gripped by his hand, pulling your head up as you feel his fingers tracing your tattoo. His fingers were too light. Too soft on your skin, you felt your back arch as he decided to balance the softness with a harsh slap on your ass.
Some hair was loose, out of his grip, resting on your back. The rest are being pulled closer to him, you feel his hot breath whisper in your ear. "You slut." A smirk spreads on your face, biting your bottom lip close enough to leave it bleeding. "You talk a lot." You tell him. He forces your shirt from off of you, leaving you just in your black lace panties.
You're still on your stomach, your bare chest pressing against his silk sheets. Your underwear is slipped off of you. Two fingers found their way to your pussy, sensitivity rubbing against it, your back arching your ass into his hard dick. "Fuck me already, Matt." You moan, knowing he's only touching you to get you overstimulated. He ignores what you're saying, responding to what's going on in his mind. "You look so beautiful. Bending yourself for me on my bed, begging for my cock."
His fingers rub against your folds, flipping your stomach inside out, pressing against your clit and your moan comes out louder than intended. "So wet for me." He licks his lips. Just as you were about to push yourself against his fingers, he let go abruptly. A huff leaves your lips and you whine. "Sorry, baby, you need something?" He mocks. You give him a noise of annoyance in response.
He grabs your ass hard, and to your surprise, you feel his tip at your entrance. You immediately clench around it and you hear him moan. He shoves himself inside of you and you practically scream, your whimpering gets louder each thrust he makes in and out of you. "You feel that, slut? Is this what you wanted?" He groans, not bothering to stop. You answer by pushing yourself onto him, fucking yourself to him.
You pushed your lips into your mouth, loving the sound of his moans and whimpers. Your head was pressed against his pillow, and he went faster, tears started prickling your eyes, shutting them. Your noises were getting more intense and a knot began forming in your stomach.
"I'm.. oh fuck–" Before you could even finish what you were saying, you release. Matt slows down, every push in is longer and slippery with your liquid, your pussy tightens around him and he mutters a quick "fuck" and pulls out, cumming all over you.
You turn to look at him. He looked back at you. There were many times you thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but now, seeing your hair a mess and its baby hairs sticking to your forehead, your lips sore and red from his aggressive kisses bare on his bed, he thought he was looking at a goddess. You glare at him, noticing he's been staring at a few seconds too long. "What?"
"I think I might need to see that tattoo one more time."
-
(idk how a tags list works)
719 notes · View notes
m-ayo-o · 6 months
Note
megumi being out on an overnight mission so he sends yuuji or gojo to look after bunny!reader in heat.. 😞☝️
o-o-o-oh wow 18+ megumi's bunny~ explicit sex, f!reader bunny hybrid, 21+ y/o characters ! wc 1.6k oops pt. two hybrid fics
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Another curse down. He wipes the sweat from his forehead- it's getting fucking hot out here, especially since he keeps receiving voice notes and pictures from his gorgeous bunny who's back at home.
"Love you, Megumi. Can't wait to see you. Please hurry."
You sound so sad and cute, and he can just tell from the pictures that you're getting all hot and bothered, with the cutest pink flush on your cheeks. He feels like a terrible owner, leaving his perfect bunny in heat, all by herself.
He usually manages to wiggle out of missions during this time, but tonight it just couldn't be helped. He did make sure to give you extra attention last night and this morning, but he knows you need more.
If you had it your way, he'd be deep in your tight bunny pussy all day. You even beg for him to stay inside you during the night.
But right now he can only afford quick replies to your messages when he gets a break from the relentless enemies he's dealing with. They're an easy task for him, but still tiring.
"Baby- just wait a little longer-" his breathing is heavy in the message you just listened to. You feel bad pestering him, but now you can hear his voice it just makes you miss him even more.
"I'll be back by the morning- please hold on."
After finding higher ground to take a breather, he opens his phone to see you video calling him. He has to answer. Any second he can spare you, he gives you.
"Baby, hey," he gives you a soft smile, seeing you lying on the bed, all comfy and cosy.
"Megumi!!" Your face lights up, seeing him mid-action, all sweaty with his hair messier than usual.
"Miss you, bunny," he pays attention to you, but his eyes are still scanning around, making sure everything is safe and under control.
"Megumi... I miss you so much." You make an unbearably sad face. "Feel so lonely."
Oh how his heart sinks, hearing those words. That's the last thing he wants his bunny to feel.
He thinks, seeing the curses start to pile up again.
"Baby, it's ok. Just- just hold tight, let me fix this, ok?"
He brings up his contact list, making a quick decision to call somebody to check up on you.
He hovers over the image of his white haired senior. The one useful thing about that blindfolded idiot is that he can be anywhere, anytime. He'd be there in a flash, but can he trust him with his bunny? He knows what Gojo can be like with sweet girls like you.
He keeps scrolling, finding his best friend's name. One look at that warm smile in his icon and he's tapping the call button.
"Yuji, hi, yeah, I need to ask a favour..." he fills him in quickly.
"Just visit her?"
"Yeah, please, go to our apartment. She just needs some company, ok?"
"Sure!"
"Oh and Yuji, she's... in heat, so she might be a little, uh, you know-"
His heart skips a beat.
"Y-you really want me... to go to her, when she's feeling like that?"
There's a pause on the other end, followed by a very definite, "Yes."
"A-and if she, if she needs-"
"Yuji, I trust you. If you feel comfortable, do whatever she asks. I just want her to be happy, ok?"
"Okay."
Yuji is almost trembling with excitement. The last time he saw you in heat you could barely keep your hands to yourself, and you were so affectionate and snuggly it made Yuji's heart melt, thinking how much he'd love to have a cute bunny girl like you, and how his friend is so lucky.
So he darts to your apartment and taps on the door.
"Yuuuujiii!!!"
"Aww, hey!!!" He greets you, returning your excitement ten fold, squeezing you in a tight hug and lifting you up off your feet.
You had no idea this is what Megumi meant. You're so overjoyed, in his best friends arms, with his face pressing into your neck. You feel so happy and relaxed now he's here.
"It's okay, bunny, Megumi sent me to keep you company."
You feel his cute nose nuzzle into your neck and oh he feels so warm.
"Thanks so much, Yuji.." he sets you down but you just keep holding on to his big hands, "was so lonely."
"I'm here now, don't worry!!" He gives you a big smile and ushers you into the warmth of your living room to get all cosy again. You get some food and curl up on the sofa together, feeling content with your head resting on his lap. His fingers stroke gently behind your ears and over your neck, making your nose twitch happily.
"So cute." Yuji murmurs, watching you start to doze off in his arms. Overcome with the warm feeling of your body, he's soon to follow.
But when he wakes, you're looking a little... different. You're sitting on his lap now, facing him, with such a hazy look in your eyes. It could just be sleepiness, but Yuji cottons on pretty quickly that that isn't the case.
Your snuggling soon turns into grinding, which gets his blood pumping embarrassingly quickly. You get startled, feeling him pressing into you so firmly.
"Bunny..." he's getting hot now, feeling your body squirming over him.
"Bunny, wait- slow down," he coos and strokes your back.
But it's already too late. The feeling of his erection between your legs is igniting that heat deep in your core. You feel a little embarrassed and shy, but you can't stop humping him.
"C-can't-" you sniffle, needing to feel relief so badly it almost hurts.
"Oh, oh bunny, it's okay, shh." He pats your head lovingly and squeezes your body to his.
"Megumi told me... you're in heat. Is that right?"
You feel a blush covering your cheeks as you nod, but you still can't control the way your hips are moving.
"He said... it's okay if I help you. Would you like that?"
Your whole body heats up, hearing his warm words in your ear.
"Yuuu... Yuuuji-" if bunnies could purr, he's pretty sure this is what they'd sound like.
"Do you want me to, bunny?"
When you get aroused like this, you're not very good with your words anymore.
So you get up off his lap and turn around, presenting yourself to him. Your little bunny instincts take over and that's all you know how to do.
And Yuji is nearly lost for words, too, seeing your cute tail and the wet patch on your panties where your skirt is hiked up.
"Y-you want me.. in there?"
You nod gingerly and he tugs at your tail, ever so gently, pulling you back and pressing his thumb over your ass.
"You wanna come sit on my cock?" He offers, tugging your panties aside with a moan, seeing how you drip for him.
"On here, sweetie" he pulls his erection out, lining himself up and stretching you open.
You feel the spread of his tip; it's so fat and wide he could satisfy you with that alone.
But he pulls you down with a groan, "Bunnnyy... oh you're a tight girl, aren't you?"
You cry and whimper, the deep ache finally being satiated, slowly, lovingly. And although Yuji isn't your owner, your body starts to relax as he makes you feel perfectly comfortable on his cock.
"That's it, baby bunny- don't be shy, please," he coos and pulls your body closer, pressing kisses to the back of your neck in his embrace.
He fucks away your embarrassment of being in such incredible need, with that fiery heat inside you. But it starts melting away, dripping down his cock until you feel him start to pulse and throb inside you.
"Let- let me cum on your ass, please- or, fuck, your thighs- anywhere- need to pull out- bunny"
"No! No, Yuji! You can't!! Please!" You squeak.
"T-tell me where you want it- 'm fucking close, please, bunny-"
"Need it inside." You whimper, turning to him to see that gorgeous, pleasured look on his face as he gets his first orgasm.
You go to stand up to let him rest, but his hands grab onto your waist and he keeps you seated on his length.
"You wanna go again?"
He feels you clenching on him already with that surprised look on your face.
"Haha, oh bunny, I can fuck you all night, till your owner gets home. Is that okay?"
He knows that bunny girls have certain... natural instincts; they need to be filled, not only with a nice fat dick, but also lots of cum. He just wants to make you happy.
You almost start crying from pure joy- it's so overwhelming that someone is able to take care of you so perfectly right now.
So you let him take you all night, pressing you into the floor, letting him kiss your pretty lips, then pulling your legs up and pushing your knees right to the carpet. Then finally he takes you to bed and spoon fucks you till you get sleepy. He watches your pretty eyelashes flutter closed and he's finally satisfied that he's done his job. He would never let Megumi down.
And as the thought of him crosses his mind, he hears the front door crack open and footsteps entering the apartment. It's not quite dawn yet, but he's back, and he steps into the bedroom to find Yuji under the covers with his pretty bunny.
"She- ah, finally fell asleep," Yuji whispers.
"With you still inside?"
Yuji bites his lip, nodding almost shamefully.
"Thanks, Yuji."
Megumi is just so relieved. His baby bunny is happy and full of cock, just like she needs to be. And when you wake up you'll have both of them, and they can help you through your heat together.
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yuji | megumi | m.list | pt.two
2K notes · View notes
syddsatyrn · 3 months
Note
heyyyy i didn’t know if requests were open so you can just ignore this if they aren’t-
can i get some alastor smut?:) just gen stuff
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Redemption By Sydd Satyrn
⛧Pairing: - Alastor x Reader
⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, some dubcon, dom/sub, p in v, praise kink, toxic relationship, creampie, Alastor owns your soul, 18+ Minors DNI
⛧Words: 1k ⛧Notes: I gotchu! My request are open! Please read my rules before you send one!
This wasn't the first time you’ve been in this situation. You’ve been seeing the shadows follow you all day, they whispered about you, watching your every move. This means that Alastor wants you home as soon as possible. When you finally walk through the front door of the hotel, the other patrons are staring at you. The mass of black shadows creeping behind you was unsettling, even for them. You quickly made your way to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. You were used to it by now, having your every move observed. You just wished that instead of sending a hoard of shadows after you, he would get a cell phone and just text you.
As you exit the Elevator you walk down the red-carpeted hallway to Alastors radio tower. When you open the door you can feel his sinister presence take over the air. Alastor was typing out some notes for his next radio broadcast. He doesn't even look at you at first, keeping focus on his typewriter, the keys clacking as you stand there. Your heart raced, and your palms started to sweat.
“You’re late…” Alastor says, a tinge of anger in his voice.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up.”
“For two hours?! Do you take me for a fool?!” He raises his voice, and a glowing green collar attached to a chain appears around your neck out of thin air. Alastor holds the other end of the chain, pulling you closer to him. Only a few centimeters separate his lips from yours, his eyes are locked on yours, and you can't look away. “I’ve been in need of your assistance, and you leave me waiting? Tsk tsk.” He tuts and moves a few stray hairs away from your face.
“I-I’m s-sorry…” You choke out, he softly caresses your face with a wicked smile.
"You think you can beg your way out of this? My dear, you underestimate me.”
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise…” You plea, but this kind of behavior never works on Alastor.
“Promises are easy to make, my dear. Why don’t we see if you can deliver on yours?" Alastor says with a depraved look in his eyes.
His lips met yours in a fervent collision, igniting a blaze of desire that consumed you. He kept the chain wrapped around one hand as the other roamed your body, hungry for more. Every touch, every caress fuels something in you, Alastor is the only one who can bring out this primal side of you that you hide so well.
You immediately give in and start to unbutton his shirt while he takes over your mouth. His tongue dances with yours as he groans into the kiss. He breaks away, grabs the collar around your neck, and drags you to his desk. Alastor bends you over rather forcefully and you yelp as your torso hits the desk.
Alastor growls as he presses his clothed cock against your ass. “Are you ready for your redemption, darling?” He says followed by a low growl. Your breath hitched and you nod, Alastor has a menacing look on his face. He quickly pulls your skirt down along with your panties to reveal your wet cunt.
“My, my…you’re already prepared.” He says while digging his claws into your hips.
Alastor unbuckles his pants, pulling them down a bit to free his cock. You feel the tip of his length tease your wet hole before slowly pushing his way inside. You whimper and squirm a bit, trying to adjust to his size.
Alastor begins to thrust in and out with force, he lets out a low growl. You cry out in pleasure as Alastor pounds your soaking wet cunt, the desk slams into the wall causing you to yelp. Alastor pulls the chain connected to your collar, making you arch your back further, causing him to reach even deeper. You begin to tear up a bit as you let out a mix of whimpers and moans. Alastor leans in closer to your ear and begins to whisper.
"That's my good girl." He whispers, it sends shivers up your spine. The line between pleasure and pain is really thin when you and Alastor get intimate. You enjoy it but you also hate it, a mix of emotions that you can't seem to sort out. Alastor is relentless, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten as he fucks you deeper and deeper. You are starting to see stars as you get closer and closer, Alastor's claws drag down your back leaving bright red marks. You wince and grip the edge of the desk like your life depends on it. Alastor's eyes roll to the back of his head as he moans, thrusting his cock into you as deep as possible as he cums, you soon follow as you release onto his throbbing cock. You moan something that sounds like his name, your body begins to tremble as you find that sweet release. These are the moments that make you wonder if this is really a punishment at all.
The chain around your neck disappears and Alastor removes himself from your cunt. You slowly push yourself up, your legs shaking, and turn around to see him buckling his belt and fixing his tie. You locate your clothes and attempt to put them back on despite how wobbly you are. "Are you satisfied?" You ask a tinge of attitude in your voice. "For now." He says with a sinister grin. He's been waiting around for her all morning, he was starting to get impatient and needy before you showed up. Alastor is always a mystery, a danger that lurks in the shadows. The deal you made with him isn't always convenient, but it was better than the previous outcome. He motions for you to come to him, and you obey. He holds your face in his hands and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. Your face turns a shade of pink, surprised by his actions.
He whispers softly in your ear. “Until next time, my darling~”
823 notes · View notes
augustinewrites · 1 year
Note
what are reader’s thoughts about gojo’s black shirt look (similar to what we see in jjk 221) aka what does she think of that bod (^▽^)
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afternoons were busy, in your experience. the school was awake and alive with energy, bodies moving to and fro as they worked through the day's tasks.
at this time, just after lunch, people typically stopped by your office. whether it was megumi stopping by for a reprieve from his larger than life friends, shoko coming to drag you out for a late lunch, or gojo coming to sprawl himself out on your couch.
so when the sun is high in the sky and no one has come to bother you, you're a little concerned.
when you inquire principal yaga about this, he says he'd last seen nanami headed towards the training grounds. naturally, that's the first place you go. surely he can help you round up your students and their other teacher.
when you arrive at the training grounds, you're surprised to see the first and second year students gathered there, including shoko, watching something just out of your periphery.
"what are you guys doing?" you ask, catching shoko's attention.
she simply gestures to the main area. "sight-seeing."
"sight-seeing?" you frown. "this is the training grounds."
"i know."
you follow her line of sight, curious to see what's gotten everyone's attention.
oh.
the summer breeze combined with the afternoon sun seems to have prompted nanami and gojo to shed a few layers of clothing as they sparred. nanami's abandoned his blazer, the sleeves of his blue dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the topmost buttons undone.
gojo's thrown his jacket aside, leaving him in a nicely fitted black t-shirt.
wordlessly, you lower yourself to sit next to shoko.
with his loose-fitting uniform, it was easy to forget how brawny your fiancé was. now you could see everything. broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist and long legs.
he's handling himself in hand-to-hand combat against nanami with ease, footwork practiced and posture immaculate. his body is tight, muscular, rigid. the tension of his toned biceps just right as he swings at the blond. he smirks when it connects and the sorcerer is knocked backward a few steps. it's horribly attractive.
"hey," shoko interrupts your daydreaming when she nudges you. "did you need something?"
you're too busy tracking a drop of sweat rolling down the side of gojo's throat to recall. "i don't remember."
you can't really focus when he's panting like that, chest heaving and tongue darting out to glide across his bottom lip. he grunts with the effort of deflecting a hit, his muscles flexing as he maneuvers his torso to avoid a follow up. when his shirt rides up, you absolutely don't think about where that white trail of hair below his navel leads, heat pooling in your gut as--
"why aren't you both working?"
you both jump as if you'd been caught doing something illegal as principal yaga steps in front of you, arms crossed.
"sorry, sir," you apologize, bowing your head as your face heats up.
_____
gojo is equal parts confused and aroused when he steps into your office and you immediately lock the door behind him. this may or may not have been the beginning of a fantasy of his.
“noticed you oogling me earlier,” he smirks. then he pauses, thinking. “or is it ogling? am i saying it right?”
“satoru?”
“yeah babe?”
“shut up.”
he's half convinced this is a fantasy when you grab the front of his shirt and pull him close, hungrily pressing your lips to his.
he goes to lift them hem of his shirt up, but you stop him, muttering,
keep it on.
well, he thinks as you trail kisses down the column of his throat.
if you say so.
3K notes · View notes
lovelyhan · 1 year
Text
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— favorite poison ⟢
pairing: wonwoo x reader
summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.
word count: 15.5k words
tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut
warnings: mentions of twitter porn, brief discussions of past trauma, slut shaming, mild violence (wonwoo punches someone in the face), graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)
notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! thank you so much for waiting so so patiently for this second part! big thank you to @playmetheclassics for proofreading this monster sequel for me >< i wouldn't have done this without you, indi UEUEUE
this is part of the game over series!
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smut tags: implied semi-public sex, game chair sex? jealousy, clothed sex, use of handcuffs, brief spanking, car sex, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, degradation, dirty talk, daddy kink, hard and soft dom wonwoo, creampie, cum eating, aftercare
svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @tommolex
wonwoo taglist: @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme
fic taglist: @appachicken - @bekah931215
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part one - part two - part three - part four
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“So when are you introducing me?” 
The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.
He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So listening to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t helping his case.
“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs. 
Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”
“What the hell are you even talking about?”
His best friend pouts, and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”
Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see. 
Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.
Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.
Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches on pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend) doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.
Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now? 
“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head. 
“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”
“Fuck you. You know that’s not true.”
“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him. 
“Why?” he asks with a scowl.
“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with, or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”
Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life. 
“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”
Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”
“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.” 
“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care, though.”
He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind. 
Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned. 
What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again, not five minutes later.
About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo had just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.
The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping. 
Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.
But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.
“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”
Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”
“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?” 
“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”
Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.
“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”
The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all. 
“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”
Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends, and 2.) he is not a cold person and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now. 
“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again, is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”
Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.
Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?
“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”
As Johnny exits, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence he left.
“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”
Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.
Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.
“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few head pats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”
Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.
“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now, take off your leggings before I tear a hole in them myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”
You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.
He’s fucking perfect.
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Right after that unplanned quickie, Wonwoo is at least keen enough to observe his surroundings as both of you discreetly part ways and sneak back into the convention. Since the main events were taking place on the other side of the venue, not a lot of people were milling around, and he thankfully manages to blend into the crowd without rousing everyone’s suspicion. 
Well, almost everyone.
“You’re a pretty shitty actor; you know that?”
Wonwoo doesn’t have to turn around to recognize the smugness in Seungcheol’s tone. The moment he lays his eyes on one of his closest friends—still wearing that silly Pikachu onesie and giving out his cherry cookies—he knows he can’t weasel himself out of this conversation so easily. 
“What do you mean?” Wonwoo says, deciding to play along to gauge what Seungcheol does and doesn’t know.
The older man scoffs. “Come on, Wonwoo-yah. You weren’t being very discreet when you pulled our very good cat girl friend into the restroom. Doesn’t help that you both came out looking dishevelled as fuck. So much for hating each other, huh?” 
Okay. He has nothing left to hide then. Great.
“Were we that obvious?” Wonwoo lowers his voice into a whisper, and the only reason he’s genuinely asking is because Seungcheol isn’t the type to joke around about these kinds of things.
“Only to the eyes of someone who personally knows the both of you,” he snickers. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
Wonwoo’s brows knit together, perplexed, but offers no more smart retorts. His heart is still pounding in his chest at the thought of having been seen with you. Fuck. He isn’t usually this careless. Then and there, he makes a mental note to not let his emotions pull the reins on his decisions next time.
“Thanks, hyung,” is all he tells Seungcheol in return. “I’m heading back. Uh, she was looking for you, by the way. Something about wanting more of your cookies.”
Seungcheol visibly perks up at the news, and Wonwoo has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. What is it with his friends and having some weird soft spot for you? 
As Wonwoo quietly slips back into his booth—greeting a bunch of his fans but not in a sociable mood—he recalls the prickle of heat in his chest when he saw how uncomfortable you were during that short conversation with Johnny. The memory makes his curiosity spike again, and he considers asking you about it the next time you invite him over.
But then he reminds himself that he does not have a soft spot for you unlike his friends. None at all. He’s just being a decent human being for having a modicum of concern because of how you reacted towards someone Wonwoo knows to be completely harmless. 
Aside  from the occasional NSFW spam on Twitter, Johnny’s pretty harmless, right?
“Hyung! Group pic, c’mon!” 
Wonwoo hears Mingyu call out to him several booths over and sighs. He probably shouldn’t put too much thought into something he won’t be able to figure out in the next five minutes anyway.
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The next time Wonwoo comes over to your apartment is to try out some new heart-shaped handcuffs you bought online. You wouldn’t stop gushing about it to him over text, and he has half the mind to just cuff you to the bed and leave because of how annoying you’re being.
But for some reason, the handcuffs lay forgotten on your unmade bed as Wonwoo sits right in front of your set-up—begrudgingly listening to your instructions as he attempts to solve an overworld puzzle in that stupid game you and Soonyoung kept pestering him to play. Genshin Impact, yeah, that’s the one. 
“You have to hit the purple towers with Electro attacks, idiot,” you sigh. “Dendro is for green towers. Hydro is for blue towers. Did you happen to skip kindergarten or something?”
“I thought elemental reactions applied to these, too,” he grumbles. “You’re the one who said that Dendro and Hydro are good with Electro.” 
“Yeah, yeah, keep making excuses, color dunce.”
Normally, Wonwoo wouldn’t have taken the insult lying down, but he stubbornly chooses to solve the puzzle until he’s finally unlocked the hidden desert area you claimed to be ‘too lazy to figure out right away’. A hint of smugness crosses his features as he flashes you a triumphant grin. Wonwoo half-expects you to just roll your eyes and blame his progress on dumb luck or something, but to his surprise, you clap your hands gleefully before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
“Who’s my smart little gamer, huh?”
“Fuck off.”
It’s perfectly normal for him to hear you challenge his authority outside the bedroom. After all, you’ve made it your life’s mission to push all of Wonwoo’s buttons until he cracks and manhandles you in a way that leaves no room for your brattiness to slip out. Sometimes he likes to think that you rile him up on purpose because the so-called consequences end up rewarding you sexually tenfold instead. Which, Wonwoo thinks, is fucking sick, but from how much he lets you get away with it anyway, he figures that he’s got a few screws loose himself.
“Anyway, how about we check if you’ve got shit luck on gacha games or not,” you announce before nudging your customized gaming chair with your foot—the same one Wonwoo’s currently sitting on—so you can have better access to your mouse and keyboard. “Soonyoung’s luck is abysmal as hell. The only reason he’s got such a spiffy account is because of all those sponsors.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “Are you saying yours is any better?”
“Hey, I’ve got decent luck, mind you,” you huff before clicking a few times, and a new window pulls up on-screen, which Wonwoo recognizes as the wishing page. Soonyoung has shown it to him and the other guys enough times to remember what it looks like.
“Go on, just click the times ten button,” you urge him before tugging your gaming chair back to its original position. “It’s gonna let you wish for a character ten times, basically.”
“I know how gacha games work,” Wonwoo bites back.
“Of course you do,” you coo as he finally does a full summons.
He swears he’s going to edge you until you’re begging and crying later. It’s the least you could do for being such a pain in—
His vengeful thoughts are interrupted when you gasp out loud—eyes glued to the monitor as the shooting star glows like iridescent gold. Wonwoo doesn’t know shit about Genshin, but he’s pretty sure he just pulled a really rare character.
“I just pulled a five-star yesterday.” You scowl, staring at him disbelievingly. “How on earth—”
To your dismay, Wonwoo accidentally clicks on your mouse—ending the entire animation sequence a bit too early. But just when you’re about to berate him for being impatient, your jaw practically falls to the floor when you see all ten of your (technically Wonwoo’s) wish results.
He managed to bring home the featured five-star character five times. Five fucking times. Holy shit?
As you visibly freak out in your seat, bemoaning the fact that this legendary pull happened off-stream, Wonwoo stares at you bizarrely like he always does. You immediately take a screenshot, explaining that the probability of what just happened was several times less likely than you letting him fuck you while you’re livestreaming, but Wonwoo’s mind wanders a little right after that.
So…you would let him fuck you on stream, then? 
Not that it’s something he’s thought about before. Wonwoo likes the privacy your set-up affords him with, and he’s not about to jeopardize that with by committing such an inexplicable act of exhibitionism. But the mere picture it paints in his head is enough to make him swallow thickly. 
One of your stupidly short skirts bunched up to your waist. His hands kneading your breasts as he snaps his hips from behind you. All those pretty noises you make only for him now being heard by your incel-ridden fanbase. He bets they’d even like seeing their beloved Koyahngi get railed on-cam, but the thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only Wonwoo has had the privilege to makes his blood boil.
“Hm? You’ve gone quiet. What’s up?”
His eyes flicker over to your form—knees pressed against your chest underneath the oversized tee you’re wearing. You like to dress comfortably when you’re off-stream, which is understandable because even if you’re just sitting in front of a computer screen, doing so in full cosplay can be a huge hassle. He’s always wondered how you have it in you to put in all that effort for your viewers.
Curiosity lingers in your gaze when he prolongs the silence, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to answer—mind too preoccupied with a whirlwind of thoughts to articulate any sort of reply. 
He can excuse those horny assholes on Twitter—your main target audience for the filthier content you make on the side. They have no idea who it is they’re really jacking off to anyway. But if some lesser man deigns to even think he deserves to look at you—the real you—while you’re writhing in the throes of pleasure…
You let out an undignified yelp when Wonwoo abruptly pulls you onto his lap, awkwardly straddling him as he stares at you intensely through the lens of his glasses. He can vaguely hear you muttering something about impatient men under your breath, but Wonwoo knows your irritation with him holds little to no weight with how you fold your legs on either side of his hips so his large hands can have better access to your ass.
“This is what you invited me for, isn’t it?” he murmurs, giving your backside a squeeze that has you mewling in response. 
Wonwoo smirks. What a needy little thing.
You gulp. “Y-Yeah, but—”
“Strip.”
“Wonwoo, I’ve gotta post about the wish results!”
He stares at you, unimpressed, and lets his hands fall onto the arm rests of your gaming chair, making you whimper at the loss of his touch. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The effect of his authoritative tone manifests all too quickly. You bite your lower lip as you tug on the hem of your shirt, lifting it up just to tease a sliver of skin underneath. Wonwoo narrows his eyes, fully cognizant of what you’re trying to do, but it seems that you know better than to piss him off even further. 
Your shirt falls to the floor and Wonwoo has to keep himself from groaning at the sight before him. It’s one thing for you to forego a bra, but panties, too?
“Do you like it, daddy?” 
Knowing you, the question is meant to taunt than anything else, but Wonwoo lets it pass anyway.
It always drives him mad, how subtle you are whenever you want to get a rise out of him. The way you roll your hips into Wonwoo’s has a tantalizing feel to it and he has to grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping. He’ll play your games and drag this on for as long as he has to. Because he’s been with you long enough to know how much you love it when Wonwoo lets you have an illusion of authority for a sliver of a second, only to bully you into submission right after. 
“Fuck,” you whisper the moment the outline of his erection grazes your bare pussy. “Missed your cock so much… It’s been a while since I’ve had you inside me.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”
“How was I supposed to know these conventions were scheduled one after the other?” You pout before grinding deliciously against his cock once again. He can practically feel how wet you are through his sweats and it doesn’t help that each forward motion brings your perky breasts closer to his face.
Wonwoo lets out another sigh as he wraps an arm around your waist before leaning down to latch his lips onto one of your nipples. You quickly jolt in response—not expecting him to indulge you with pleasure so quickly—but his actions spur you on. As his tongue expertly flicks across your sensitive bud, you quickly haul his aching cock out of the confines of his sweats, grinding your slit across his thick girth. 
You’re convinced that this is enough to get you off. Though you’ve memorized how the bulging veins on Wonwoo’s cock feels like inside you, having each ridge graze across your clit prickles the back of your head with newfound pleasure. A growl reverberates in his chest as you expertly slide your pussy along his dick, and you brace your hands on his broad shoulders to anchor yourself.
“Daddy,” you whine. “Can I? Please? Want it so bad.”
The words are punctuated with a pained moan when Wonwoo’s mouth trails higher before biting down on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He doesn’t miss the way your cunt momentarily pulses from his aggression, and he gladly guides your hips as you rub yourself all over his cock.
“My good little whore, always asking permission first,” he chuckles. “Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock.”
Wonwoo lifts you off his lap for a moment, earning himself a whine in protest, but when you realize he’s going to take off his sweats, you practically salivate once his strong thighs ease back onto your gaming chair. You don’t bother catching his gaze for an implicit confirmation. You simply sink down on his cock like you’ve been craving for days. 
A choked out moan gets caught in the back of your throat when he fills you to the brim—making your brain go blank for a moment before you remember to start doing as he asked. Wonwoo watches you through an intense, hooded gaze. The only indication that he’s even feeling remotely good is the way his fingers grip the arm rests tighter whenever your walls clench around him every now and again.
Despite the pure, unadulterated bliss that surges through you every time you’re mounted on Wonwoo’s length, it pisses you off how put-together he typically looks like when you’re on top.
You want to see him just as depraved as you are—panting and thrusting into you like he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you deep enough. But you can never get Wonwoo to handle you the way you want to be handled when you’re riding him like this. As much as you like seeing those sharp eyes watching your every move, the only way he’ll truly fuck you like you deserve is…
Wonwoo’s brows are quick to furrow once you promptly lift yourself off his lap—length slipping out of your pussy as you make your way towards the bed. However, when you spread yourself out on the mattress face down, ass up, it definitely sparks his interest.
And like a cherry on top, you place those heart-shaped handcuffs of yours on the swell of your ass, almost like you’re inviting him to play with you.
The next thing he knows, the worn out threads of his self-control have snapped. He’s behind you not a moment later—hissing through his teeth as he throws his shirt somewhere on the floor. 
You moan when Wonwoo continues grinding his cock against your ass while he yanks both of your wrists behind you. The cold bite of the handcuffs alerts you to what you’ve allowed him to do, and when the lock clicks in place, you stifle a shuddering sigh into the sheets.
Suddenly, his breath is right next to your ear. “Where’s the key for this thing?” 
You feel Wonwoo tug against the fake metal to test for sturdiness, and you feel your chest warm at his discretion. Though he’s, by no means, soft with you, he always takes the time to check if you’re comfortable with what you’re about to do together—no matter how subtle.
“On the nightstand,” you tell him all while pushing your ass back to meet his shallow thrusts. “You can go wild with the cuffs, daddy. They’re high quality for a reason.”
A low, devilish laugh escapes him. 
“Be careful what you wish for, slut.”
He’s merciless with the way he slides his length back into your sopping hole, one hand pushing the back of your head further into the mattress as the other yanks at the chain link of the handcuffs. Each powerful stroke sends you forward on the bed, and his name tumbles in broken syllables from your mouth as he fucks the shape of his cock into you.
“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” he growls before snapping his hips with a particularly punishing thrust. “We’ve barely even started and I’ve already fucked you stupid? Are you so hungry for cock that you’ve already forgotten who I am?” 
“I-I’m sorry, daddy!” you whimper as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Just feels s-so fucking good. Love your cock so much!” 
“Yeah?” Wonwoo lets out a patronizing laugh before tugging on the handcuffs again—putting a delicious strain on your arms that amplifies your pleasure in some twisted way. “When you were out there dolling yourself up for conventions, did you think about my cock? Did you want me to fill you with my cum in the restroom again? You really fucking liked it when I did that to your Sage cosplay, didn’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble as tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Want to get split open on your cock forever, daddy! Want your cum dripping down my thighs when there’s tons of people around—ah!” 
The sharp sound of one of Wonwoo’s palms colliding with the meat of your ass rings in your ears, and it leaves a pleasurable sting sizzling across your flesh. You can’t help the surge of pride that fills you as Wonwoo moans out loud the moment your pussy clenched around him in surprise.
“Dirty fucking cockslut,” he rasps. “You just love it when you’re being filthy for everyone to see.”
For a moment, you’re liberated from the steady burn your arms have been sustaining in such a complex position. Wonwoo surrenders his grip on the handcuffs—letting your bound wrists fall uselessly atop the small of your back. His cock doesn’t quite slip out of you, but you feel him move around from behind. You crane your neck to see what he’s up to, but when you see him angling his phone in a shot that would definitely make for good content to post later, you feel your arousal spark tenfold.
“Now be a good fucking girl for daddy, and let him show everyone how filthy you are.”
The moment the telltale sound of the record button being pressed hits your ears, Wonwoo reclaims his grip on your dainty handcuffs before resuming his ministrations. You let out a long-winded moan as you meet his powerful thrusts, hands instinctively straining against your restraints out of the need to rub your throbbing clit for faster release, but you know it’s a futile effort.
Behind you, Wonwoo is practically losing his mind over the sight of your creamy essence coating his cock with each slide of his hips. You’re extra responsive with the handcuffs as expected. You’ve always had a thing for switching things up in the bedroom, but you’re clenching around him even tighter than usual. 
He tells himself to just film a few seconds of you getting railed with your heart-shaped handcuffs adding more spice into the mix. Then he can truly have his way with you. 
When he’s satisfied, Wonwoo quickly discards his phone on your bed—eyes darting towards your nightstand before he spots what he’s looking for. Another needy whine reverberates in the air when his cock slips out of you so he can walk over to retrieve it. 
Like the good whore you are, you don’t even move an inch. You patiently wait for Wonwoo to return and fill you up again even if the fact that he’s making you wait in the first place makes you want to be a brat. But when you feel the handcuffs fall away from your wrists after he unlocks them, you whip your head around to flash him a startled look. 
Wonwoo tosses your newest toy away with little concern for their well-being before grabbing your face—crushing your lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.
“Mine,” he growls before manhandling you so that you’re laying on your back. “This slutty fucking pussy belongs to me, got that?”
You nod, moaning as he presses his tongue deep into your mouth. You would say yours in return, but you’re blindsided by the way Wonwoo throws your legs over his shoulders—plunging his fat dick back into the velvet heat of your cunt.
As he whispers the filthiest things into your ear, you figure that Wonwoo must have been just as pent up as you are. The consistency of his thrusts is starting to falter—sharp, calculated thrusts turning erratic and sloppy as his orgasm starts to catch up to him. 
With your hands free, you’re able to reach between your thighs in a feeble attempt at finding your clit. However, when Wonwoo catches wind of what you’re trying to do, he slaps your hand away—eyes boring into you with so much angry disappointment, you would’ve cried and begged for his forgiveness right then and there.
“Come on my cock or don’t come at all, whore,” he warns. “I’m already generous enough to have you writhing on my dick, and you can’t even be grateful about that?”
“I am, daddy!” You insist, tears threatening to spill again as you lace your arms around his neck. “You’re hitting me so deep. I’m g-gonna come soon, please—”
“Does my pretty cockslut want me to come inside her?” Wonwoo whispers before pressing your knees against your breasts. “Does she want me to fill her slutty pussy with my cum?”
“I want it, daddy. Want you to fill me up,” you beg as you desperately tug him down for a kiss. 
Normally, Wonwoo would’ve denied you simply because he can, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. But for some reason, he lets himself fall into you—lips latching onto yours like he’s done hundreds of times before. 
It seems like the kiss is what catalyzes your release, and Wonwoo groans into your mouth when he feels your walls clamp down on his cock—desperately milking him for his cum. He isn’t too far behind. All it takes is a few more pistons of his hips before he stills inside you. 
The sensation of being filled with his hot cum makes you pull away from his lips as another long-winded moan sings in his ears. Wonwoo’s shudders from the aftermath of his release, all while slowly fucking his emission deeper into your cunt. From the satisfied purr that escapes you, he thinks you like it just as much as he does.
Wonwoo really didn’t plan on staying over. Really, he didn’t. But the way you tug him back down on the mattress right after he’s finished cleaning you up makes him a bit too hyper-aware of his own aching muscles—both from this morning’s weight training and the several rounds he just shared with you. So he lets you snuggle closer to his clothed chest, the warmth from both of your bodies permeating into each other. He’s never felt more toasty beneath a comforter than he does now.
“This is nice,” you tell him quietly. “I wonder if people will like it if I posted videos of us just cuddling.”
Wonwoo laughs, thumbs absentmindedly caressing the red marks left by your handcuffs. “Doubt it.”
Your silly lo-fi music still plays from your computer's speakers , but neither of you could be assed to get up and turn it off. Wonwoo wouldn’t call himself a professional cuddler—you two have only cuddled a total of three times since you started fucking around, and you often complained about how stiff he always is—but from how comfortably your limbs slot into his, he supposes that he’s doing an okay job.
There’s a hint of intimacy charging the air, one that’s leagues different from the carnal lust that clouds his brain every time he fucks you. His chest twists with each passing moment, and Wonwoo makes the mistake of flickering his eyes on your half-asleep form pressed against him. 
It’s been months since you and him started fooling around, but he knows perfectly well that he isn’t the first to have seen you so vulnerable . While he usually doesn’t give a shit about that, and Wonwoo knows the topic is quite sensitive from the little tells he could pick up on for the past few months…
“Can I ask about your old dom?”
Wonwoo can practically feel you stiffen against his touch, which is one of the main reasons why he hasn’t once tried to broach the topic in the past. Even if you could be a nuisance ninety percent of the time, he isn’t a fan of making people uncomfortable on purpose. He’s about to follow his inquiry up with the reassurance that it isn’t a big deal, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but—
You squirm away from his embrace, and Wonwoo lets you, albeit hesitantly. His shoulders relax when he realizes you’re just repositioning yourself so that you can face him directly, chewing the inside of your cheek like you don’t have the words just yet. 
“He was…mean,” you whisper, forcing Wonwoo to wrap his arms around you once again. “Even meaner than you are. You’re at least a semi-decent person outside the domspace, but that guy? Piece of shit for real.”
Wonwoo nods. “But you don’t really care about that, do you?”
“Yeah. I can look past him being the meanest dom on the face of the earth. As long as he could satisfy me sexually, then we’re all good.”
“So…what made you part ways?”
Your gaze drifts to Wonwoo for a moment. He looks a lot different when his face isn’t bathed in the deep red of your mood lights. His hair is tousled, eyes squinting a little even if you aren’t that far away from him. And the earnest tone in his voice as he posits the question is something you could get used to hearing every now and again.
“Well, I don’t really do relationships, you know that right?” you say and Wonwoo nods. “My old dom didn’t get that though. He was really possessive of me even outside of our sessions together. It got to a point where he would get really…physical with me just to get the point across.”
Silence dips between the both of you—white noise ringing so loud in Wonwoo’s head, he can barely hear your shitty lo-fi playlist anymore. He’s always had a thing for making you cry during sex, but that’s all it is—some dacryphilia play to scratch both of your kinks. No matter how infuriating you are, he can’t imagine himself ever hurting you outside a pleasurable, sexual context.
Then he remembers the first time you invited him over to film some clips. How you stared at him as he cleaned you up like you aren’t used to the aftercare. Like you aren’t used to being treated delicately.
Is that because of your old shitty dom?
“He’s a fucking asshole,” Wonwoo grumbles before pressing your body closer to his. 
You chuckle. “He is. I’m glad I got out of that before things got even uglier.”
“How’d you even get rid of him?”
“Eh, it’s nothing a little blackmail won’t fix.”
Wonwoo’s brow arches at your response. You’re such an evil little minx, it’s actually admirable.
A little later, the conversation about your previous sexual partners fades away, and you’re back to tracing weird shapes on Wonwoo’s chest for him to guess. He spends half the time convincing you to just shut up and go to sleep, but he finds himself indulging you in your silly whims regardless. 
“Wonwoo, you’re a pretty great fuck buddy, you know that?”
He hums. “Why is that?”
“‘Cause you never go overboard with the stuff you do to me,” you say, eyes drifting away from his as you list off the reasons off your fingers. “You always let me annoy the shit out of you without getting pissed for real. You’re good at keeping secrets, too. Oh, and I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type, which is exactly my type.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “If I become someone that isn’t your type, would that get you off my back?”
“I doubt that would ever happen,” you giggle.
For some reason, part of him wishes for the same thing.
But you don’t have to know about that.
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On the morning of Soonyoung’s birthday, Wonwoo wakes up irritated.
He had a dream about you—one where you stopped being fuck buddies with him because you wanted to try things out again with your old dom. Someone that Wonwoo doesn’t even know, not even by name. Yet the rage that dream-Wonwoo felt upon seeing you hand-in-hand with some faceless punk as you both left him in the dust is almost too lifelike to ignore. 
So, he does something stupid.
He pulls up his phone—ignoring every message asking if he’s going to show up for Soonyoung’s party later—and pulls up his Twitter app. He doesn’t spend much time there, even if he is co-managing your super secret porn account. In fact, he eventually muted the notifs for that too, when the appeal of having your illicit acts shared to the unknowing public finally fizzled out. 
But he doesn’t log in to check the notifications you’ve amassed, as well as the pathetic DMs asking where your location was so they could fly in to fuck you themselves. No, Wonwoo scrolls past all the content you’ve made with him to unearth things best left in the past.
Like the videos he films with his own camera, the ones you made with your old dom are more than discreet—despite the hyper-possessive tendencies you’ve mentioned. There’s absolutely nothing to be gleaned about his identity, and Wonwoo is left wondering how stupid he’s being for wanting to know who it was that made you feel good before he came into the picture.
Why does it matter anyway, right? 
Even if you did hypothetically leave him to fuck around with your old shitty dom—or anyone else for the matter—why would it matter to Wonwoo? The two of you aren’t even friends. And if you had some other person to bother, that would mean less shit for him to deal with.
But why does the thought of letting someone else have you fill him with so much vitriol that Wonwoo nearly melts his cereal bowl with his glare alone when he comes out for breakfast?
“Hyung,” Mingyu calls out from the seat adjacent to his, rightfully concerned. “You okay? I can always grab a new brand if you hate this one so much.”
The taut muscles on his face soften at the sulking tone to Mingyu’s voice. “Oh, uh. Sorry. It’s not that. I was just thinking.”
“Of your girlfriend?”
“...Of how I’m going to break your PS5 if you don’t cut it out with that girlfriend shit.”
Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, I paid good money for that! But fine, I won’t pester you anymore if you’re so intent on keeping her a secret from the world.”
A secret… That’s right. 
What you and Wonwoo have is something that not even his best friend is completely aware of. Sure, Mingyu’s roommate-senses have been tingling for weeks, but Wonwoo knows that he will never really know the full story unless either you or Wonwoo let him in on the secret. 
Which will probably never happen if the two of you want to keep your careers, of course.
“Anyway, the rest of the guys are asking if you’re coming to Soonyoung’s party,” Mingyu says in an attempt to divert the conversation, thank god. “Everyone else has already replied except for you.”
“Who else is invited again?”
“Uh, our usual group, Koyahngi, and I dunno, a bunch of other streamers we know. I think some of Soonyoung’s high school friends are gonna show up as a surprise, though, but that’s just what Jihoon told me.”
Wonwoo considers the information at hand for a moment. 
He doesn’t mind mingling with fellow streamers and probably some of Soonyoung’s other friends, but the last time he’s seen you specifically is the day he bit the bullet and asked about your old dom. A conversation which ended on a pretty agreeable note despite the obvious unease on your face when Wonwoo opened the topic.
The fact that you haven’t texted him since is a little worrisome, too. It’s been about two weeks since that happened, and Wonwoo is beginning to wonder if he unknowingly hit a nerve and this is your way of sending him a message. 
He would’ve taken the initiative and checked up on you during your first week of radio silence, but when he catches you doing pretty fine on your latest streams and when he gets roped into some partnership talks with an entertainment agency that wants to recruit him, Wonwoo decides to put it off for later. 
Besides, the two of you are grown adults—so are the rest of your thirsty audience on Twitter. They can survive two weeks without content.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” he tells Mingyu about five minutes later when he’s already putting away the dishes. “What time are we leaving?”
“Uh, the party starts at seven. Do we go early or fashionably late?”
“Early.”
“Of course. Gotta put the senior citizen to bed early.”
“Mingyu?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
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🐈‍⬛: Are you coming to Soonyoung’s party tonight?
🐈‍: yea, i just need to sort some stuff out
🐈‍⬛: Wow
🐈‍: ?
🐈‍⬛: I just didn’t think you’d reply
🐈‍: is daddy gonna punish me for ignoring him for so long &lt;3
🐈‍⬛: I’m being serious
🐈‍: well, so am i
🐈‍: anyway, tell soonie i’ll be there soon
🐈‍: i’m just talking to someone
🐈‍⬛: Okay
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Wonwoo has been hanging out with his friends long enough to know that only a select few can really handle their liquor. It doesn’t help that today��s celebrant is the worst lightweight of them all. It’s barely thirty minutes past eight, and Soonyoung is already screaming profanities on one of the tables—using an unopened bottle of absinthe that Seungcheol gifted him with as a makeshift microphone as he belts out trashy lyrics from songs Wonwoo vaguely recognizes.
Mingyu films the entire thing on his phone, stifling his laughter while sipping on his own drink. Wonwoo can only roll his eyes at his best friend’s tolerant behavior.
At around nine, Jeonghan and Joshua arrive at the scene with a tiger-themed cake in tow, and half the friend group has to physically restrain Soonyoung just so the birthday boy could blow out his fucking candles properly. After criticizing the baker’s work (“The eyes are uneven! Tiger eyes are perfectly symmetrical!), Jeonghan rounds up the other guests to sing a loud Happy Birthday just to get Soonyoung to finally shut up. When the song comes to a close, though, Seokmin giggles a little too conspiratorially before dunking Soonyoung’s face into the cake.
It’s gatherings like this—no matter how rowdy and unacceptably loud—that make Wonwoo stick around. He might not look the part, but he loves it when he sees his friends be themselves outside of their streamer personas. It’s like high school and college all over again. 
But when the clock on his phone reads ten-thirty, and he realizes you’re still not at the venue, Wonwoo considers shooting you another text asking where you were. It’s an idea he quickly shoots down the next second because first of all, you’re not even friends. It’d be weird if he just asked out of nowhere. 
He supposes he could use wanting a quick fuck as an excuse to get some intel on your whereabouts. But the thought of lying to you doesn’t sit right with Wonwoo for some goddamn reason. 
When Mingyu offers him a drink, he half-considers taking it just to get his mind off you. He’s pretty sure his roommate has picked up on his distracted behavior, and is only attempting to soothe him somewhat with some beer. But Wonwoo reminds him that he’s one of tonight’s designated drivers and decides to pass.
Everyone in attendance is in the middle of a game of truth or dare when Wonwoo’s phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. He’s quick to excuse himself when he sees who it’s from and what message was left for him to read.
🐈‍: help me. please.
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Thankfully, you had the foresight to send him your location after shooting him that cryptic text, and Wonwoo is glad to find that you’re just a few blocks away. Still, he decides to take his car since the weather decided to be a bitch, sending in an unexpected downpour in the middle of summer.
He pulls over in front of a closed bookshop once he’s sure you’re in the area—looking around for any signs of you. The streets are deserted, and Wonwoo is trying to figure out what could have possibly brought you to this place at this hour. Why didn’t you just head straight to Soonyoung’s party? 
And why did you call him for help?
Through the rain and the poor lighting, he finally spots you—standing underneath the canopy of a waiting shed next to a man whose back is turned to Wonwoo.
He doesn’t think twice. He just gets out of his car and runs in the rain—chest warming at the sight of your downcast face perking up at the sight of him. Wonwoo would’ve let himself be glad that you're safe and sound, if only your current company didn’t turn around and reveal his identity.
From the looks of it, you seemed to be having a pretty heated conversation before his arrival. Johnny was obviously annoyed when he turned to look at him, but the expression fell away when he realized the newcomer was Wonwoo. 
However, a sinister smile takes its place not a few seconds later.
“Huh, no wonder you were so quick to replace me, doll,” Johnny laughs insincerely, sharp eyes trained on Wonwoo as he stares the younger streamer up and down. “It’s him, huh?”
“This has nothing to fucking do with you, Johnny,” you grit out, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way your voice nearly cracks. “Can you just leave me alone? You don’t need me when you’ve got a bunch of other girls who want to suck your dick, right?”
Wonwoo observes the exchange with a stoic face that doesn’t betray his surprise. It doesn’t take a lot to realize at that moment that Johnny is most definitely the asshole dom whose face he wanted to pummel into the ground when he found out what he did to you. But the things he does know about Johnny and the things he’s just now finding out makes a storm brew inside of his head—unable to separate what’s fact from fiction.
Johnny’s a nice guy. Wonwoo knows this very well. But then again, he’s also the same person who blatantly likes Twitter porn on his official account, so where does that leave him?
“I guess you’re right, but your pussy’s a perfect fit,” Johnny chuckles. “Can’t help but want to hit that again and again, right Wonwoo?”
He stares down at him hard. “Don’t talk about her like she’s just some thing you can play with.”
“Oh? No wonder those new vids of yours have been extra livelier. Your new boytoy is a big old softie, huh?” Another mirthless laugh echoes in the empty streets, and Wonwoo feels his own body heat up with rage amidst the cold rain. “I never would’ve imagined it was Wonwoo, of all people, though. That really is a magic pussy you’ve got there, doll. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out you’re fucking his twelve other friends, too. Fucking whore—”
Before Johnny could get another word out, Wonwoo’s fist had already collided with the side of his face—knocking the older man to the ground with a disgruntled sound. He can vaguely hear you calling his name in shock, pulling him back with your little hands as Wonwoo stares down at a person he used to look up to.
“Call her that one more fucking time,” he rasps—eyes alight with anger, “and I’ll make sure it’s not just a busted eye you’re leaving with tonight.”
“Wonwoo,” you plead, tugging on his arm. “Please. He’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” 
Johnny still has it in him to bark out another laugh, spitting out some blood from his mouth and onto the pavement. “Running away again, princess? That’s what you’ve always been good at anyway.”
When Wonwoo moves to lunge at him again, you lace your fingers with his. For some reason, it makes him falter. Wonwoo stares at where your hands are adjoined, then looks into your eyes—glistening with tears as you beg him to stop.
Sending Johnny one last threatening glare, Wonwoo tightens his grip on your delicate fingers before leading you back to his car.
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Wonwoo doesn’t return to the party.
Instead, he shoots Mingyu a quick ‘something came up’ text, and that he won’t be able to play designated driver for the night. His best friend responds in kind, saying he should have fun with his girlfriend and just take a cab home. On normal days, he would’ve given Mingyu another unsolicited threat, but tonight, he’s focused on something else.
You’ve been quiet the entire time Wonwoo has been driving, hands placed on top of your lap as you gazed at the lights flashing by in a blur of colors and raindrops pouring down the window. He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind, but he figures that it’ll do you some good to have some time to mull over everything that happened. 
But when the silence gets too overbearing even for him, Wonwoo asks:
“What do you usually do when you’re upset?”
You turn your head slowly, red eyes shining even in the dark. Wiping the tears away, you say, “Buy a tub of ice cream and stargaze at the rooftop of my apartment building. That’s kinda impossible right now, though, since…”
Yeah. It was still raining. Fuck.
“Well,” Wonwoo starts, “we can still get some ice cream if you’re up for it. I know a supermarket that’s open twenty four-seven.” 
You don’t reply, simply letting your gaze drift back to the window, and Wonwoo takes that as an affirmative. 
The two of you sit in the silence so deafening, it unsettles even Wonwoo the silence connoisseur himself. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this kind of situation. Should he offer you some verbal comfort? Should he promise to deal with Johnny if he comes after you again?
In the end, Wonwoo chooses to preserve the quiet—thinking it’s what you need most right now.
He pulls into the supermarket’s parking lot in ten minutes. He’s about to tell you that he won’t take long—glancing around at the backseat to check if Mingyu left his umbrella there. But before he can even get a word out, you’ve already leaned across the center console, grabbing Wonwoo’s face with both hands before smashing your lips together. 
Wonwoo grunts, grabbing your shoulders as he gently pries you off him. “Hey—”
You don’t listen. Instead, you climb on top of his lap despite the limited space. He knows that the steering wheel digging into your back can’t be comfortable at all, so despite himself, Wonwoo pushes the driver’s seat all the way back. But then you choose to do something he doesn’t expect at all.
With the newfound legroom, you sink to the floor—puffy eyes looking up at him as you work on the buckle of his belt. Wonwoo gives you a stare that’s two parts disapproving and one part curious. In the end, he does nothing about it when you undo his jeans and take his cock in the warmth of your hand.
When it comes to you, it doesn’t take a lot to get him hard. The need to please shines in your eyes as you give him possibly one of the best handjobs in his life. You’re not even uttering a single sound, but your titillating gaze sends all the blood in his system straight to his dick.
Your mouth is on him the next thing he knows—giving his fat head some experimental kitten licks that make him want to shove your head down to the base of his cock. But he won’t. Wonwoo isn’t Johnny. He wouldn’t dare to be rough with you after what just happened, despite your apparent eagerness to give him head right here, of all places. 
The mere reminder of that asshole has him buzzing with rage again, but whatever frustration is left over gets quickly replaced with toe-curling pleasure when you take his heavy length in the heat of your mouth. Your tongue lathers the underside of his shaft as every inch bypasses your plump lips. What your mouth can’t reach, you compensate with your fingers—fondling both his balls and the base of his cock with tender yet salacious touches.
He has to tell you to knock it off. This probably isn’t how you’re supposed to deal with…whatever shit you have going on with Johnny. But your mouth feels like fucking heaven, and Wonwoo isn’t a good enough person to deny himself the pleasure.
The rain continues to pour outside, but the sound of it is eclipsed by the wet noise of you bobbing up and down his engorged cock. As Wonwoo’s orgasm slowly builds itself from the ground up, his large hand gathers your hair in a single clump—tugging hard enough to have you moaning around his length.
“Good, good girl,” he rasps before thrusting his hips into your mouth. 
 When he finally comes, you swallow every drop he pours down your throat. Even when your eyes start to sting with tears, you take it all while Wonwoo holds your head in place. 
As his high starts to ebb away, Wonwoo realizes this is probably the most breathless he’s been rendered since he started fucking around with you. He could probably blame that on the shitty car ventilation, but there’s just something so fucking enticing about seeing you wedged beneath him on the floor—face streaked with tears with remnants of his release still sticking on your lips.
Wordlessly, you peel yourself away as you scramble back to the passenger seat, making a nonchalant comment about how much you’ve imagined sucking him off in his car, but Wonwoo doesn’t quite process it all.
When he notices that the glass of his car windows have all but fogged up, he leans forward—one hand raised as he starts drawing shapes into the moisture. You stare at him with a bewildered look, wondering what on earth he was up to. But the moment you realize what he’s drawing, your expression twists from confusion to disbelief.
Stars. Wonwoo was drawing stars on his fucking windshield with his entire dick still out and everything. He doesn’t even look fazed while he’s doing it.
“You can’t be serious,” you say.
He shrugs and grabs some tissues from the glove compartment to clean up before putting himself away—handing it to you right after. 
He’s so fucking thoughtful; it still gives you whiplash.
“You said you wanted to see the stars, right?” Wonwoo shrugs. “This is the best I can give you right now, so.”
You stare at him for a couple of seconds longer—like you can’t believe a man like Jeon Wonwoo really exists on this earth. Then, you laugh. It’s one of those obnoxious ones that typically have Wonwoo rolling his eyes at you, but it sounds like music to his ears after seeing you cry your eyes out .
Wonwoo does manage to get enough ice cream for the two of you to feast on back in your apartment as you both watch this food show that Mingyu keeps recommending to him. The tricky part is trying to get your hands off him the entire time. 
For someone who went through something pretty traumatic earlier in the evening, you’re fucking insatiable. But Wonwoo’s resolve can no longer be shaken, and the dirtiest thing that you end up doing in your bedroom is giving him a kiss on the cheek before bidding him good night.
It’s only when you’re dozing softly against his chest—having trusted him enough to fall asleep in his company—that Wonwoo realizes something that might change the trajectory of your set-up for good.
He’s in love. 
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The next morning, Mingyu greets Wonwoo at the apartment like a mother would her troublemaking son who got caught sneaking home in the middle of the night.
“It’s Koyahngi, isn’t it?” he says point-blank. 
Wonwoo doesn’t exactly have the energy to play some mental gymnastics with Mingyu right now. The moment it dawned on him how he actually felt about you, he couldn’t get a wink of sleep. Thoughts about what he should do have kept him up all night. Should he come clean about it? Should he just leave it be?
But when he remembers what you said about him during that one visit of his…
I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type.
That pretty much leaves him with one option, which is the one he’s been meaning to take all along. The idea of having to confess his love for you like some sort of prepubescent high schooler honestly makes him want to vomit. But at the same time, resorting to…concealing his feelings from plain sight doesn’t sit well with him either.
But no matter what he feels about either option, Wonwoo knows that keeping his mouth shut about it is the best option. Especially when you’re still emotionally high-strung from that encounter with Johnny. 
“So what if it is?” Wonwoo grumbles, plopping himself onto the couch right next to Mingyu.
“For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought the two of you were a good match,” his roommate offers, and Wonwoo appreciates his pep-talk. Really, he does. But he’s pep-talking him for the wrong fucking outcome. “You should totally go for it if you haven’t already.”
You don’t do relationships, and neither does Wonwoo. He knows if he uses this line of reasoning as a rebuttal to Mingyu’s words, his best friend will stubbornly insist that he get the girl anyways. He’s always been the one-track-mind type that gives it his all once he’s finally set on something. 
But Wonwoo is nothing like his enthusiastic roommate. He’s cold, and sharp-tongued, and everything you probably wouldn’t want in a boyfriend. All he’s good for is a quick fuck every now and again, and he’s not about to start deluding himself that he can be anything more to you.
(Yet part of him still hopes anyway.) 
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🐈‍: are u free today
🐈‍⬛: Be there in thirty
🐈‍: whoa i haven’t even told you what i had planned
🐈‍: what if i actually wanted to take you on a date to the park huh
🐈‍⬛: Did you?
🐈‍: no, my new raiden shogun cosplay set just arrived
🐈‍: and we kinda have this unspoken tradition 
🐈‍: if you know what i mean
🐈‍⬛: You want me to fuck you in it?
🐈‍: always <3
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There’s something off when Wonwoo shows up at your doorstep.
He knows you easily pick up on it from the way your eyes narrow slightly when you scrutinize him. From what he can tell, he’s acting as aloof as he always does, yet you still ask him, “You okay?” as if he’s doing something different.
“Yeah,” he mumbles before quietly closing the door behind him.
As you lead him to your room, you tell him that you haven’t put on your cosplay yet because the stockings that came with your order were itchy as fuck, and how you’re thinking of having them replaced one of these days. Wonwoo hums in reply, eyes trained on the takeout packaging that litters your kitchen counter. He has half the mind to tell you to start eating healthily, but reminds himself that’s the sort of thing boyfriends do—not fuck buddies.
Your dainty lo-fi playlist is streaming in your room like always, and when you see the assorted fabrics of your cosplay crumpled on your desk, you heave a tired sigh.
“I’m too lazy to put it on now,” you whine. “Can you just fuck me normally?”
He doesn’t give you a verbal response. Instead, Wonwoo pulls you by the hip, pressing you impossibly close to him as he rests his forehead on top of yours. You startle a little at his abruptness, but your body language betrays no sign of resistance. If anything, you lean more into his touch as the seconds tick past.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you whisper like you’re afraid of shattering something delicate. “You seem out of it.”
“I’m fine,” he insists, and before you can say anything else in response, he slots your mouths together in a slow, sensual kiss. 
Wonwoo likes to get things done hard and fast. He’s a man who sticks to his schedules for the day if he can help it, so he typically treats these sessions with you as timed encounters. More often than not, he’ll be out of your door in two hours or less so he can dedicate his time to working out or planning for new content.
Now, it’s a little different. He takes his sweet time with you—mouths moving in voluptuous unison as if he’s finally dedicating each second to truly memorize the curve of your lips against his. You moan into the kiss, fingers threading through his dark hair before he pulls away from you with a breathless sigh. 
Wonwoo stares at you like you’re the center of the universe. He can only hope you see the same thing when you stare back.
You know when Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he means business. One moment he’s placing them on top of your nightstand, and the next, you’re suddenly pinned beneath him on your bed—getting your lips devoured by the insatiable man on top of you. 
There’s something so innately alluring to his kisses that you haven’t felt during the last time you fucked Wonwoo in this same room. Those were less kisses and more of a clash of teeth and tongue. Now, he stokes a kind of desire that almost scares you to have. You’re afraid if you indulge yourself too much in this version of him, you’ll get addicted. 
The two of you are supposed to be filming today. Yet you seem to have forgotten all about your plans as you lose yourselves in the heat of each other’s bodies. But despite the mellow pace that Wonwoo has established, the desperation still lingers in his touch. 
He flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting right on top of him, gasping out loud as you steady yourself across his hips. Wonwoo smiles lazily, drawing circles along the curve of your thigh before teasing the waistband of your shorts with a single finger. You whimper as you grind down against his hardening length, still confused about how soft he’s being with you today, but no complaints are going to be filed.
“You want my cock that badly?” he asks, and you nod a bit too enthusiastically. “Then work for it.”
You bite your lip, not bothering to remove either of your clothes when you haul out Wonwoo’s length from the fabric of his sweats. Just a few pumps from your small fingers has him hot and heavy in your hand—making your mouth water with anticipation. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of taking him inside your tight little pussy.
Nudging the hem of both your shorts and panties to the side, you quietly sink down on his engorged cock with a strained whimper. The lack of prep definitely isn’t doing you any favors, but the raw stretch of him so deep inside your walls sends a rush of pleasure straight to your skull. In no time, you’re bouncing on top of his lap like a bitch in heat—mind hazy with the feeling of Wonwoo hitting you even deeper than usual. 
You sort of expected him to amp up the dirty talk. You don’t always get to ride him like this, yet Wonwoo stays perfectly quiet as he watches you thrash and moan above him. His hands rest comfortably at the curve of your waist, guiding your movements, all while offering up a few thrusts of his own.
It feels so fucking good whenever he hits that perfect spot inside you, but the pleasure pulls the wool over your eyes because you’re completely oblivious to the way Wonwoo is looking at you right now.
He was a fool to think that if he just had his way with you like he usually does, those delusions of his would go away naturally. That it would serve as an anchor to the reality of your relationship with him. But when Wonwoo has you chasing your high right before him—so devastatingly beautiful in the lowlights of your bedroom—he realizes he’s fucked.
All this does is make him fall even deeper in love with you. 
“S-So close,” you whimper, grinding down on his cock with each downward thrust. “Wonwoo, please, please. Fuck—!” 
He quickly shoots up from his initial position, lying down, fingers tangled in your hair as he forces your head close to meld your lips together once again. Wonwoo fucks up into you relentlessly, his breathing erratic against your mouth, all while he tries his best to keep all of his secrets from coming out of his own lips. 
You’re the most infuriating person he knows, but he can’t help but look after you anyways. He claims to hate you, but the way he’s rolling his hips into yours would tell a different story. You drive him insane each waking day, yet you have no clue of the extent of it.
He would never admit it—not in a million, billion years—but you’re Wonwoo’s favorite poison, and he’d rather watch himself burn from the inside out than find an antidote. 
He hates having to hide you away from the world like this. Hates treating you like some sort of dirty little secret. He’s allowed to share you with the world through anonymous pornography, but not as a bonafide lover, and it drives him up a fucking wall every time he thinks about it. 
But the thing about Wonwoo and sex is that once he finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, his clarity of mind is a bit too quick to settle. As he helps clean you up in the bathroom, he tells himself that it’s simply impossible for someone like you to want anything more with someone like him. After all, you said it yourself.
You don’t do relationships. 
Who the hell is Wonwoo to change your mind about that anyway?
“Wonwoo?”
He looks up at you just when he just finished wiping a cool, wet towel across your leg. “What?”
Your eyes shy away from his. “Um, you might call me a sap or something, but I…kinda liked it.”
“Liked what?”
“That,” you say while making some vague hand gestures at him. “When you were all gentle with me and stuff. I wouldn’t mind having soft Wonwoo again next time.”
Next time.
The words echo in Wonwoo’s mind far more than what he expected, and he finds himself frowning at the notion. Can he still keep up this charade, now that he’s aware of his feelings for you? How long can he continue the act until he inevitably slips up, and you find out?
How long does he have left before you drop him because he’s starting to want more from you?
“Wonwoo, where are you…?”
He doesn’t hear the rest of what you have to say because he’s already padding out of the bathroom—heart beating a little too loudly in his chest. Wonwoo fishes his glasses from the nightstand and the keys to his car. He’s more than intent on getting out of here as soon as possible, but it seems you have other plans.
“Hey,” you call out before tugging at his arm. Wonwoo forces himself not to meet your eyes, but he feels the intensity of your stare regardless. “You’re acting really fucking weird today. Is there something wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like?”
“No,” he mumbles, wanting to add, I’m the one who’s done something you won’t like, but opting to keep his silence instead. 
“Then…why are you acting like this?” 
The pleading look in your eyes almost makes him cave in and pour out everything that’s been flooding his heart for the past few days. It’s so easy to just rip the band-aid off and be honest. To risk everything for the abysmal chance of you reciprocating his feelings.
But Wonwoo knows that life isn’t a fucking gacha game, and he’s not about to throw away what he has with you now, especially when he knows what he wants doesn’t coincide with what you want. 
“Just having a shitty day,” he reasons, and the lie tastes like acid on his tongue. “I’ll text you later. Bye.”
Before Wonwoo steps out of your door, he makes another mistake of looking back. Now, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever get the image of you on the verge of tears as you stood all alone in your bedroom for reasons he’ll never know
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Wonwoo runs into Saerom in the supermarket one fateful afternoon.
Mingyu is usually the one who does the grocery runs for both of them—being the person who knows which brands are best for both food and apartment maintenance and all. But his best friend happened to land himself a modeling gig recently, and they rescheduled the shoot today on short notice. Wonwoo insisted that they could live another day without eating rice, but Mingyu was having none of it, and gave his roommate a full list of groceries he expects him to buy no later than today.
So here he is in the canned goods aisle, expression mirroring Saerom’s when she recognizes him as well. It’s not often that Wonwoo bumps into a familiar face in this part of town, so he’s rightfully surprised.
When she asks him if he’s free to have lunch with her at a nearby bistro, he sees no reason to decline. Saerom has always been his good friend, and it’s only natural for him to want to catch up. That, and he’s curious about what she’s doing here in the first place.
“I just moved into the neighborhood actually,” she explains once the waiter is done taking their orders. “Anyway, how are you? I haven’t spoken to you since that time I hijacked your stream.”
Wonwoo clearly remembers the day she asked him to look out for you all those months ago. Saerom is quite literally an angel, extending her concern even to the people who probably don’t need nor deserve it. He gulps down his water thickly, wondering if he should tell her the truth. 
But with how his brain seems to be all over the place these days, he ends up coming clean about it anyway.
When the food arrives, Wonwoo tells Saerom about the truth behind the porn videos implicating you in the past—how you’re actually the one being filmed in all of them. He also tells her about how Wonwoo takes part in the creation process of said videos (deciding to leave Johnny out of the story because that’s going to be another can of worms to deal with). Then, he ends the tall tale with the begrudging fact that he may or may not have caught feelings for someone he isn’t supposed to.
Saerom listens intently to each word—chewing on her salad with a contemplative look. She never betrays any sort of expression that would suggest her true opinions on the matter, which makes Wonwoo all too thankful that she’s the one he entrusted this with.
“I see,” she sighs once she’s finished the rest of her food. “I knew something was a bit off about her situation, but I’m glad that she’s safe, at least. Although about that budding romance of yours… Don’t you think it’ll be easier if you just discussed it with her directly? An outsider like me can only offer you so much advice, Wonwoo.”
He sighs, stabbing his food with his fork. “I know, but…what if she doesn’t want anything to do with me when she finds out how I really feel?”
Saerom lets out a wistful sigh—staring directly at Wonwoo like she intends for him to remember her next words for a long time.
“Then that’s your sign to find someone else who can accept the love you’re more than willing to give. If she turns you down, that’s more of her loss than yours, you know.”
Wonwoo wants to tell her she’s giving him too much credit. It almost sounds like Saerom is insisting that he’d actually make a good boyfriend. He half-wonders if he should ask her if she accidentally mistook him for Mingyu, but then Saerom’s phone rings in the middle of their conversation. 
It’s a short call, and Wonwoo doesn’t bother listening in to give her some privacy. When it ends, though, she bows her head in apology, letting him know that her boyfriend’s waiting for her at the parking lot.
“It’s nice meeting you again, Wonwoo.” She smiles before pulling him into a hug. “I hope your girl problems are already sorted out the next time I see you.”
Wonwoo lets out an uneasy laugh as he returns her embrace. 
He really hopes so, too. 
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One month.
It takes Wonwoo one entire month to reach out again, right after he left you without a word in your apartment last time. Part of him feels like he should be guilty for ghosting you so suddenly like that, but he swears he didn’t ghost you. 
He’s just…giving both of you some time and space away from each other. God knows his judgment gets clouded whenever he’s near you. 
Still, he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him for it right away. Much like Mingyu, you’re the sulky type. But while he usually deals with Mingyu’s sulking by leaving him alone for a few hours, that solution is counterproductive when it comes to you because…he’s already left you alone for a month. Wonwoo has a feeling that if he prolongs it any further, you might not talk to him ever again.
You were already wrapping up this evening’s stream when he left his own apartment, and he figures you’re getting ready for bed when he gets to yours.
His knuckles rap against the door once, twice, and he waits. 
Not that Wonwoo is counting, but it takes you five minutes to answer the door—already in your comfortable pajamas and your kitten skincare headband resting on top of your head. It seems that you weren’t expecting any late-night visitors when your eyes nearly bug out at the sight of him. 
“Won—” You shake your head as if you can’t even bear to say his name. “What are you doing here?”
He hesitates.
Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for you. He gave you space for one month, and he still doesn’t know what to say when he finally deigned to show you his face. 
Your posture is rightfully apprehensive. Wonwoo can almost imagine how you’ve branded him as a raging ghoster in your head for the past few weeks. For a moment, he fears that you’ll throw him out of your apartment before he can even set foot in it, but you simply wait for him to respond—affording him some patience he definitely doesn’t deserve.
“I…” Wonwoo starts but his voice falters, forcing him to clear his throat awkwardly. “You’re getting better at using Chamber.”
You scowl at him, and if Mingyu was here, Wonwoo thinks he would’ve face-palmed because of how pathetic he’s being right now. 
Seriously? Bringing up the latest Valorant agent she’s playing when you’re supposed to say you’re in love with her? Wonwoo can practically hear his roommate in his head, along with an added, You’re so fucking mid, hyung. 
“Okay,” you say, still visibly wary of his presence. “Anything else? I’d rather get everything out of the way so you can continue ghosting me in peace.” 
Fuck. He knew it.
“I’m—” 
Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was too scared of how I felt about you to deal with it like a normal person.
“—starting to think that you’re fine without me after all.”
At this point, Mingyu would’ve pummeled him to the ground.
Jeon Wonwoo, you have the emotional intelligence of a rock, imagination-Mingyu points out, and he couldn’t agree more.
“Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious. I am fine without you, asshole,” you bite back snarkily, making the motions to shut the door in his face, but Wonwoo wedges his foot in between. 
“Wait—fuck. I’m sorry,” he insists, swallowing thickly. “Can I come in? Please?”
The desperation in his tone makes you arch an eyebrow. Wonwoo never says please. It’s almost always the other way around, whether in a sexual context or not. So even if you know you should just leave him there like how he left you a month ago, you breathe out a sigh in defeat before opening the door wider for him.
“Fine.”
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You’ve never sat at your dining table with Wonwoo. You never had to. Whenever he comes over, it’s either to have sex or let you teach him about a game he can’t be assed to play on his own. He doesn’t stay long enough to warrant asking him if he wants some takeout or leftovers from the fridge, so seeing him nursing a glass of water across from you still feels surreal. 
“So are you going to explain why you suddenly just ditched me, or are we going to stew in the silence all night?” you ask. 
Wonwoo’s gaze flickers over to you irritably, and you hate to admit that the sight of that expression makes a pang of…something ripple in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, much less spoken to him, so even if you should be fucking mad, you can’t help but miss him. 
God fucking damn it.
He doesn’t answer right away. Like he’s carefully choosing which words he’ll allow you to hear and which would be better off unsaid. But if there’s something you’ve come to know about Wonwoo after all these months, it’s that he doesn’t have good intuition when it comes to other people’s emotions. 
Even if it seems like he’s being particularly careful about his words, that doesn’t guarantee that what’s going to come out of his mouth won’t be stupid.  
“I just had to clear my head for a while,” he says, providing no context whatsoever, and that makes you frown even more. 
“Clear your head?” you echo as you cross your legs. “From what?”
Wonwoo’s usually aloof look shifts for a moment. An unreadable expression flits across his face, but it’s gone before you can even make sense of it.
“It’s nothing you should worry about.”
“Nothing I should… Wonwoo, you were already acting strange the last time you were here. Then you went ahead and ignored me for an entire month!” You slam your hands on the table, the Wonwoo’s glass rattling in the process.
“How am I not supposed to worry when all this time, you made me think I was the reason you suddenly just flaked on me like that?”
He narrows his eyes at you, as if he doesn’t quite get why you’re pissed. “Why does it even matter? I’m just your fuck buddy, right? Why should you care if I just come and go whenever I feel like it?”
The apathetic tone that accompanies his words lances straight through your chest. Were you an idiot for believing that the look he wore earlier in front of your apartment was genuine? That he was actually apologetic for leaving you alone with your thoughts as you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to drive him away without a word?
Your fists shake from where you’re pressing them into the polished wood of your dining table. Wonwoo’s indifferent stare doesn’t let up, and as the white noise rings in your ears, it makes you wonder…
“Why’d I have to fall in love with someone like you?”
The words come out so softly, so quietly that you doubt Wonwoo would’ve heard you. But as your vision gets blurry with tears, you don’t see how  surprise begins to eclipse his aloofness.
Wonwoo felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when his ears caught what you just said. He couldn’t have heard wrong. It was too quiet in your apartment to mistake what you said for anything else.
You’re…in love with him?
“You know what?” You breathe in deeply, eyes darting up to the ceiling as you wipe off the evidence of your vulnerability. “Just…leave, Wonwoo. I can’t talk to you right now. Please.”
“Say it again.”
When your gaze drifts back to him, it’s accompanied with an expression twisted into disbelief.
“What?”
Before you can even think about what he could even mean by that, Wonwoo gets up from his seat, striding over to your side of the table. You flash him another apprehensive stare, but all of a sudden, he cups your face in both of his hands—delicately, like he’s afraid of breaking something precious.
“Tell me you’re in love with me.”
You immediately bristle at his request. “Are you fucking insane? I know you’re a sadist but—”
Wonwoo presses forward without warning—capturing your lips in an unsolicited kiss that catches you off guard but angers you at the same time. No matter how badly you missed having him pressed up against you in more ways than one, you’re not going to let him trample on your feelings again. 
“I hate you,” you rasp, salty tears breaking their tension across your lashes as they slide down your cheeks in glistening streaks. “I fucking hate you, Jeon Wonwoo.”
Your words carry little weight to them, and Wonwoo is completely aware of this. Almost like he’s trying to placate you, he wipes your tears away with the pads of his thumbs—that hard-eyed gaze weathering into something softer, more sincere with each passing second. 
You abhor how handsome he looks like this.
“Is that your way of telling someone you love them?” he chuckles breathlessly, lips rising to the crown of your head as he presses a soft kiss on top. “If that’s the case, then…”
“I fucking hate you, too.”
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Wonwoo isn’t sure how long the two of you have been going at it, but by your fourth orgasm, your newfound lover is yet to be sated.
“Again,” he growls, tugging your limp body closer to his. “Say it again.”
One of the things Wonwoo particularly likes about exploring all sorts of sexual escapades with you is that you teach him things about himself that he never even knew about. 
First was that stupid daddy kink, and now…
“I love you,” you whimper, mindlessly grinding against his still hard cock despite being worn and spent. “I love you, Wonwoo.”
Despite the fact that your honesty drives him to near-insanity, Wonwoo can’t help the relieved sigh that fills his veins every time you utter the words. At first, you stubbornly kept up the act of hating him as he railed you into the mattress, but with every mind-numbing orgasm, your hate slowly bled into love, and Wonwoo finds it fucking cathartic. 
You beat him to what he came over to tell you himself. It was a little embarrassing on his part, he has to admit, but there’s some sort of relief that comes with knowing the same person he’s been vying for also feels the same way.
He’ll tell you the words properly someday.
Maybe not today or tomorrow, but Wonwoo promises that he’ll let you hear how much he adores you soon enough.
For now, he’ll give you one last release.
He’s certain that he can still go one more round, but he can’t really say the same for you. If Wonwoo makes you cream on his cock one more time, he’s afraid you’ll actually pass out from exhaustion. 
So instead, he lays you down on your plush pillows—crawling lower down your body until he finds himself between your legs. He chuckles when you crane your neck weakly to see what he’s trying to do, but Wonwoo is already hooking your thighs over his shoulders before you can say a word.
Your body twitches from oversensitivity as his tongue laves at your ruined cunt—not caring that his own spend has mixed with yours from where the creamy liquid seeps from your hole. Wonwoo groans into your cunt when your thighs squeeze around his head as if meaning to suffocate him with your pussy.
Honestly? If that’s the way he’s gonna go, he’ll accept it with open arms.
“Daddy,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his tousled hair. “I c-can’t anymore…”
Wonwoo suckles at your clit in response, earning himself a high-pitched whine as you roll your hips into his face. For someone who claims she can’t come anymore, you’re awfully eager for him to pinpoint your orgasm again.
“You can, baby,” he insists, peppering your inner thighs with kisses. “You can ‘cause you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 
He feels your inner muscles clenching at his words, and Wonwoo makes a mental note to praise you more often. You might just like that more than his run-of-the-mill dirty talk after all.
“‘m your good girl,” you babble. “Always daddy’s good girl.”
Fuck. You’re going to be the death of him.
When you’ve recovered from the crest of your final orgasm, Wonwoo carries you to the bathroom and carries you into a bath he’d drawn himself. You complain about how he didn’t set the temperature in the tub right, and Wonwoo promises to do better next time. 
As the two of you soak in the semi-warm water, Wonwoo rests his head against the tiled wall—the fatigue starting to seep into his bones. He doesn’t let himself complain, though, because if he’s feeling spent, he can only imagine how sore you must be feeling. He wonders if he should order some food for the both of you or just let you sleep right away.
“Wonwoo?”
He raises an eyebrow at your meek voice calling out to him. “Yeah?”
You shift a little on his lap, turning around as droopy eyes bore into his. Wonwoo is about to call you out for being weird, but the words evaporate on his tongue when you lean forward to peck his lips. 
“Can I borrow your phone?”
He tilts his head to the side, wondering why you’re asking for his phone. You couldn’t possibly be asking him to film some content here in the tub…right?
Wonwoo watches in complete silence as you open his Twitter app—further feeding into his curiosity. But he doesn’t comment on whatever it is you’re about to do, patiently watching as you maneuver around the accounts logged onto his phone. 
However, when you pull up on the Settings tab of that porn account the two of you have been running for months, scrolling all the way down—
“What are you doing?” he asks as your finger hovers over the ‘Deactivate account’ button.
You glance at him, confused. “I’m getting rid of this account. What else does it look like?”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? I can’t share my sex tapes with the rest of the world now that I have a boyfriend.”
The bathroom falls silent for about three heartbeats before Wonwoo wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. You yelp in surprise, struggling against his iron-tight grip in a way that has water splashing all around you. Wonwoo couldn’t care less, though.
“I love you,” he murmurs into the naked skin of your shoulder. 
You don’t respond for a while, like you’re surprised by his easy admission. But the tension in Wonwoo’s spine unravels when you rest your head across his shoulder, chuckling as you caress his face tenderly.
“Don’t you dare think I’ll let you off the hook though,” you chide. “You’ve got several months of dates to make up for. Just because you took the express lane into being my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you get to skip out on the effort that normally comes with it.”
Wonwoo shakes his head, turning your face so his eyes can meet yours. 
He can’t believe he was stupid enough to run away from his own feelings for an entire month. If only he’d been more honest with both you and himself the last time he was here, he could’ve spent all the weeks after with you cradled in his embrace.
But then again, it’s the choices you both made so far that led you to where you are now.
And for now, he’s perfectly content with that.
“Challenge accepted.”
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part one - part two - part three - part four
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q: is there going to be a third part? a: yes! however, part 3 is literally just in its early stages of creation. i don't even have a serious doc for it, just a few vague plot bunnies gathering dust in my head SJDFHDFG BUT since i'm feeling generous, attached below is a little sneak peek of what you can expect!
This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life. Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis. And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found.  How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?
aaaaaand that's all i have for now! thank you so much for waiting patiently for this installment! it took me an entire month since i posted the teaser, but here it is hehe :3c i hope you all liked it! do stay tuned for that third part, whenever the hell i can get around to writing it T T
this is part of the game over series!
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antidesire · 1 year
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just wanna give leon the head of his lifetime, any place, any time. this is a selfish and messy little impromptu piece
disclaimer.. 18+ only! afab reader x re4 leon kennedy, p w/o plot, blowjob, dirty talk, salvia/spit, roughness!, degrading, leon cums down your throat, yum, maybe a little bit implied size difference/kink.
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the way the muscles in leon’s arms spasm and flex every time he pushed your head further down his cock was something so delightfully arousing, lustful greed evident in the way your panties became increasingly sticky, uncomfortable.
forcing out a few tears to clear your blurred vision you blinked up at the agent, skin glistening from a sheen of sweat, other arm gripping onto the wooden cabinet behind his back, enough to turn his knuckles white and leave small splinters if it wasn’t for his leather fingerless gloves.
he was being careless, sloppy- you could tell by the way his hips stuttered and faltered after every push. you had to squeeze onto one of his thighs to keep yourself grounded, there was nothing more you loved than hearing his voice become hoarse and frantic,
“fuck..” he somewhat chuckled out of pure bliss, head knocked back a few seconds, breathy moans following a spew of curses and thuds of his hand hitting the cabinet he stabled himself with, before his eyes settled back on you, drooling as you made work of him, head pulling back to let the spit run down from the angry red tip of his cock, watching it twitch, leon’s eyebrows furrowing as he bucked his hips up at the loss of the warmth of your mouth down his length.
oops, you got a little carried away watching how pretty he is,
“please, sweetheart.” he choked out, tongue dashing out to lick his lips, thumb pressing into your cheek as he held your jaw.
“i got you baby.” you hummed, your hand pushing up his shirt so it wouldn’t get in the way, scrunching it in your fist and holding it just above his belly button.
all gentle gestures and soft intentions flew out the window, leon’s jaw tensing as he stared in awe, mouth gaped open as you pushed his cock past your lips, eyes squeezing shut when the tip of your nose pressed against the hair at his lower abdomen. you held yourself there for a couple counts, feeling lightheaded and euphoric with each fleeting second.
“o-oh, nghnn.” leon’s hips bucked desperately, “yeah, yeah, just like that..” leon hissed out, eyes were concentrated on you below him, your legs either side of you, perched on his boot, rutting down on the stiff material, your hips working on their own to find some friction.
you pulled slowly back, bobbing your head some more to elicit some more pretty sounds from leon, it was a little cruel but you couldn’t help it, you wanted to drag every second of this out despite the situation you were in- the mission you were both assigned to.
lifting your head off of him once again you brought your hand up to squeeze around him, he was so hard and your saliva made it easy for him to fuck up into your hand.
the poor little confused look on his face, lip jutted out from your sudden ulterior motives, he wasn’t always so lenient, would’ve been more stern, demanding, but he was so pent up he couldn’t form the right words so his eyes followed your every little action, your head leaning in to place wet open mouth kisses along the expanse of his stomach, tongue dashing out to lick from the bottom of his hips upwards, salty sweat mixed with the taste of him on your tongue made your hips jut against his boot again.
leon’s hand followed in the path of your own, squeezing around it and directing you to pump quicker, and god he looked so delicious, his neck strained, head titled and lips parted for moans to fall from, “stop staring at me.” his lips tugged into a smile amidst his pleasured sounds.
your cheeks heated up a little, softly hitting his chest, “i need to cum, so, so bad.” he grumbled, frustrated, “c’mon baby.. you want it too.” and you did, nothing more you wanted then for your man to get anything and everything he desired.
you nodded, shuffling closer, feeling your clothed pussy rub against his boot once again, nails digging into his hip, as you pried your hand and his off of him, tilting your head up and sticking out your tongue invitingly, being rewarded with what you wanted when you watched the pooled spit in his mouth fall from his lips and down to your tongue, filthy.
it sent pulses all throughout your body, evident by the way you further shifted down on his shoe, “you’re disgusting, fuck, i love it.” he laughed in disbelief, leaning his foot back to press it further in between your legs.
it made you dizzy, but you were determined not to get sidetracked again, “shut up.” you whined, shaky breathes before enclosing your lips around his tip, tongue swirling at the bead of pre cum gathered before once again bobbing your head, your pace much more consistent but quick this time, long pushes of your head to accommodate his size, as much as you had gotten used to it he was still so big, feeling his tip stuff the back of your throat without even having him fully in your mouth, there was no other sensation you loved more in this moment, the cherry on top was his moans getting whinier, repeated chants of your name and praise falling from his lips like the sweetest prayer you had ever heard.
his voice was strained but you could make out what he was saying, “that feels so good, doll, don’t stop, oh-“ he cut himself off when you forced him as far as you can go, swallowing around the tip of him, gagging and sputtering but composing yourself quickly, you needed to.
“shit, you look so cute like this- oh my god, baby..” he hissed out, hips pushed up, feeling like he was about to snap.
you whined against him, vibrations making his hips stutter, sloppy, dirty sounds of your mouth slipping up and down, slobbering over his cock as if it was your favourite treat, couldn’t get enough of the man towering over you.
“m’gonna cum- fuck!” he yelled, voice cracking as his hand flew to the back of your head, pushing you down on him with no regard for your breathing or comfort, stuffed full of him and there’s nothing you loved more as he shallowly fucked up into your mouth as if you were nothing more than a toy in that moment, something to satisfy him, to use to empty his balls in to, it had your stomach churning with complete ecstasy.
leon was panting like an animal, his dirty blonde hair tousled, stray strands sticking to the sweat building up on his forehead as he spews out more curses and hoarse moans as the wood cabinet behind him creaked and slammed back against the wall, his hips jutted messily, the sounds of your gagging and the saliva bouncing off the four walls.
“oh, oh, take it, fucking take it..” he breathlessly puffed out, followed by a loud groan and you soon felt the rush of his cum fill your mouth, coating your tongue and past your throat, trying your best not to make more of a mess of yourself and choke.
his hips were still moving on their own, only calming when he got to sensitive, hissing and easing himself, hand relaxing from your head as he admired his work of you, lips swollen, wet with spit and his cum, cheeks puffy and your nose the cutest shade of red, he was mentally snapping pictures to store in his memory.
you were spent, jaw aching and hand coming up to rub your poor throat, “shit, sorry baby..” he laughed, a little embarrassed at how carried away he got, “just felt so good.” he groaned dreamily, head knocking back as he already replayed it out in his mind.
“i’ll make it up to you sweetheart, i swear.”
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eupheme · 4 days
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— hit the road [into the fire, part vi] [finale]
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | masterlist
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 3k
tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, sex for favors, sub/dom elements, hurt/comfort, kissing, fingering, light dacryphilia, rough PiV, creampie, multiple orgasms 
a/n: the final part! thank you so much for checking out this series! 💖
“You still mad?” He husks, pulling back to let his lips brush yours. His thumb swirls against your clit. Tempering the pitch of your groan, as you buck into his touch.
It makes you remember just how angry you had been with him, the day before. His harsh words already easing with the way he slaughtered all those men for you.
“Yes.” Your teeth nip at him, a whine as his fingers slip from you, to tap harshly against your center.
“Good.” He growls, “Don’t hold back on me, now. Want you to ride these fingers, sweetheart.”
(or - the Ghoul does a thorough job of making sure you’re alright.)
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You only make it as far as the third room.
The warehouse is empty, the only sound in your quiet footsteps. The hitch of your breath, as you try to catch it. A familiar warmth that you’ve come to associate with him, as he checks for anyone lingering. 
An old office door knocked open with the barrel of his shotgun. A bathroom next, the stall doors hanging off their hinges.
An old bunk room, at the end of the hall. A narrow military cot tucked against the wall, next to an overturned desk, age-old papers spilling out against the floor. 
His head turns, catching the way you automatically look to him. The way you follow at his heels, his own little shadow. 
A ground-out sound slips from his teeth - a decision, as he hauls you in behind him. Your back pressed up against the door as it closes, his swift fingers latching the lock in place. 
His look hungry, as your eyes meet him. Caging you in, hands grasping at your waist - a thigh fitting between yours, pressing to your core. 
Your hips rock on their own, a shared breath as your nose brushes his cheek. He’s hard against you - since your mouth had first met his. Maybe even before. Meeting the roll of your hips, as your hand reaches down to cover him.
Feeling bold, as he fills your palm. Your fingers curling as he hisses, just before his lips press to yours again. 
You can feel him throb against you. As you cup and squeeze - his own fingers flicking at the button of your pants. Going further - his hand twisting until he can fit it down, and tuck it against your cunt.
Rough fingers parting you. Slipping over slick skin, as you tug at his belt. 
“Always so fuckin’ wet for me,” He husks, a low hum at your expression. The half-lidded eyes as he pets at your clit - your own hand going still, distracted. 
“Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
Pinching your clit, sending a pulse of pleasure-pain down your spine.
“Only for you.” You breathe.
A rough growl, as his other hand reaches, to finish your job for you. Wrenching open the zipper, letting your hand slip beneath.
“I know. Only for me.” 
It’s a sigh, as your skin meets his, squeezing. 
You think he’d take you right here. Spin you around and fuck you against the door, and you’d let him. His fingers already nudging at your hole, teasing the tip into where you need him. 
You whine in surprise, when his hand slips free. A rough hum around his fingers, licking them clean, when he sees your expression - as he herds you back towards the cot. 
Shoulders rolling, his bandolier and his bag dropped on the table. That dark coat slipping from his arms. Flung across the cot, so you’re not wrapped up in the filth that splatters the outside when he fucks you. 
Stalking toward you until the backs of your knees hit the mattress, sending you down. That thrill shoots through you, at how easy it is for his fingers to catch around the waistband of your pants, to tug them down. 
You lean forward enough to work the laces free on your boots, kicking the layers off until you’re bare.
Watching as he regards you, in faded shades of blue and worn leather. Broad-shouldered with a trim waist, all hidden by the bulk of his tattered coat. Fingers at his throat - loosening the snaps, before he’s straddling the end of the cot. 
His eyes doing a slow sweep, a pinch to his brow - almost as if confirming that there weren’t any other marks on you that weren’t left by his own hand, or mouth.
Bending low when he is content - hands catching your thighs, pushing, to keep them apart. A slow drag of his tongue against your pussy, before his fingers follow to fit inside you.
Arcing over you, swallowing your cry - licking into your mouth so you can taste how you meld together. 
Losing just a bit of the messy, hungry edge from earlier. His free hand slipping up - palm curled around your neck. Almost as if remembering how to do so, as he lazily deepens the kiss.
The plunge of his fingers is loud. Two notched deep, stretching you out. This he has not forgotten - how to press and curl his fingers until you are keening. 
“You still mad?” He husks, pulling back to let his lips brush yours.
His thumb swirls against your clit. Tempering the pitch of your groan, as you buck into his touch. 
It makes you remember just how angry you had been with him, the day before. His harsh words already easing with the way he slaughtered all those men for you. 
“Yes.” Your teeth nip at him, a whine as his fingers slip from you, to tap harshly against your center.
“Good.” He growls, “Don’t hold back on me, now. Want you to ride these fingers, sweetheart.”
Encouraging your hips to roll, to buck into his touch. Chasing the high that shoots through you, with each pound of his fingers. 
A rough sound of approval when your hand slips beneath your shirt. His own leaving your throat to tug at the hem. A bitten out “off ” that has you tugging it over your head, the faded bra following.
Nipples tight when his teeth pinch against them. A ragged groan as you reach down - your fingers joining his, his thumb tucked in between them. 
He lets you touch yourself for a moment, the needy circle of your fingertips, before he’s batting your hand away. 
“Only way you’re gonna come is by me,” The Ghoul rasps, “You need to keep your hands busy, then you keep ‘em right here.”
Guiding your hand down to his cock, letting your fingers wrap around. Your thumb slick when it brushes the head, his grunt low as you try to stroke him.
Desire warm in your belly and thrumming in your veins with how hard he is. At the feral sound he makes when your fingers flex, dipping down to stroke against the tight seam of his sack. 
It sends you higher, each flick of his thumb and crook of his fingers bringing you closer and closer, until you’re there.
“Oh.” It’s ragged, as you chase the building pressure. His hand at your hip, biting into your skin, “Fuck, I’m gonna come -”
Your moan breaks, as the pleasure rushes over you. Pooling low in your cunt as you clench around his fingers, then rippling outwards. 
“There you fuckin’ go,” He hums, watching your eyes flutter shut. The pinch of your brow, the small of your back arching off the table as you cry out. 
Drawing out your orgasm, as his fingers stroke. One of your hands pinching at your tits, the other forgotten as it curls around his cock. Almost missing the way his hips cant into your touch, matching the thrust of his fingers. 
Teers prick at your eyes. A whine as his fingers slip free, only to press against your mouth. Dipping past your lips as they part - your gaze heavy-lidded as your teeth pinch down, tongue licking across his knuckles. Sucking the taste of you off them, with his eyes greedily fixed on you.
“Fuck.” It’s caught in his throat. 
Man-handling you as he shifts forward. Tugging your thighs over his, thumbs pressing into the joints of your knees as he pushes them up towards your chest. Spreading you wide - opened beneath him.
His spit-slicked fingers drifting to wrap around his cock. The flushed head ghosting across your cunt as his hips shift. Leaving a sticky spot against your belly, as he imagines how deeply you’ll take him.
“Fuck me.” You beg, hips hitching. 
He growls in response. The fat tip slipping across your clit, notching at your entrance. Your muscles tense in anticipation, still unable to help the ragged gasp as he fills you with a swift thrust. 
Even with the way he made you come, there’s still that ache. The heavy weight of him fitting inside you, his teeth clenched as he feels the way you wrap so tightly around him. 
“Were made to take me,” His voice ragged, as his hips move, “Weren’t you?”
Rough skin dragging against your walls, as he watches how you squirm beneath him. All you can do is nod, the words caught in your throat. 
It knocks something loose inside you. How big he feels, the stretch of him. The ache in your limbs, the drain of adrenaline and the sweet embrace of relief.
Your moan hitches. The tears spill over. Cutting through the dust on your cheeks, glinting in the light.
He throbs inside you at the sight. A heave of his chest, a stuttered slowing of his hips at the choked noise you make.
But you need this. Need him - need to forget everything else. 
“Don’t you fucking stop.” Your teeth are bared, and something flickers in his expression. The smallest dip of his head, before his grip is tightening around your thighs.
“I’ve got you.” He husks, as he pulls you to meet him. 
Driving harder into you. Leaving you breathless, panting. Until you’re thoroughly distracted, too full to feel anything other than him. 
Mindless, just how he likes you when he’s buried inside your cunt. The tip of his tongue drags against your cheek - catching a glimmering tear, before his lips are pressing to yours.
You want his mouth everywhere. Between your thighs again. You wonder if this is why he held back - that spark that ignites when you slot your mouth with his, the shiver when his tongue brushes yours. 
You don’t want him to ever stop. 
“You're gonna give me another.” It’s a command. Short and rough - breathed out against your lips when he pulls back.
He clicks his tongue, with the shake of your head. That heated look dragging down you again, fixing where he spears into you. 
“I can’t-” You gasp, but you can feel it. 
How his cock strokes against that spot deep inside you. Each breath short as you reach - nails biting into his wrist, where he keeps your thighs spread wide.
“You will.” He vows, through gritted teeth.
Filling you, only to ease himself out - drive himself again to the hilt. Your gasps loud and unfiltered as he brings you higher, words tumbling from your mouth. 
You think he can make you - with the tight clench in your belly, the desperation that tinges the sounds pulled from you. 
He’s done it before, after all. 
“Oh, god,” It’s a needy sob, as you watch the way his fingers tighten their grip. Head lifting to watch the glossy shine of his cock, as it pounds into you.
He grunts, loosening his grip - fingers slipping against where you’re stretched wide around him. Slick when they circle your clit again, that spark inside you roaring.
Another panting breath, another plea,“Oh my god-”
“Cooper, darlin’.” He rasps, “Call me-”
"Cooper.” You echo - his name drawing out long and low between your lips.
Feeling right, something missing clicking into place. 
His hips grind harshly against yours, a broken sound caught in his throat when he hears you say it. 
Such a small thing to have such a weight. But it does - you know what it means, for him to gift you this. 
You try it again, his eyes fixed on the way your lips round with his name, how you clench around him with the tight swirl of his fingers. 
"That’s right.” Cooper growls, “You gonna be cryin’ out a name, it fuckin’ better be mine.”
Again, and then again. Until is long, drawn out. 
A plea that breaks, as you cry out - when he makes you come hard around him. Your nerves are a live wire - the ceiling above swirling into a haze as everything fades to white noise. All you can feel is him. 
He fucks you through it - hands easing down to grasp at your hips, keeping your hips meeting his as you pulse around his cock. 
Fingers lazy as they swirl against your clit, until you’re bucking with overstimulation. Trying to push his hand away - but he flattens it, possessive with the way he keeps it tucked against soaked skin. 
This time when you come down, he lets you breathe. His cock still notched deep, feeling the fluttering aftershocks of your orgasm as he arcs over you. 
Your eyes dazed, a cock-drunk smile as they drag across his face. Sharp cheekbones and rough edges. Pretty, you think - and not for the first time. 
Greedy as they dip lower, to his throat - all that open skin, new to your eyes. He catches you looking at him - his own eyes narrowing. The flick of his tongue against his teeth. 
“Go on, now.” He husks. 
Waiting for you to ask. Giving in, when you do. 
It’s slow, how you reach. The tips of your fingers mapping his scarred skin. Thumb pressing into the hollow of his throat - drifting down to the hard muscle of his chest, where his faded shirt parts. 
Tugging at the fabric - head tipping up so you can press your lips against the healed gnarl of skin, where he had taken a bullet from you.
Close enough that you can hear how his breath comes out ragged. A low groan against your teeth when they scrape his neck - your hand pressed too close to the gallop of the heart. 
It has him leaning away from you. Catching your wrists, the brush of his lips against the bruised skin, before he’s dragging them down and pinning them against your belly.
A flicker of pain as you gasp, punctuated by a harsh thrust of his hips. Your tits bouncing where they’re framed by your arms, his fingers pinching against your skin as he does it again. 
You’re slick around him. Can hear each plunge of his cock - his eyes dropping to see how you smear across the base. Sticky against his sack when he grinds deep, from when you gushed as he fucked your release from you.
It’s not an act, the way you sigh his name. The way you clench, as if to keep him inside. 
“Too fuckin’ good,” Cooper growls, feeling your spiked pulse beneath his fingertips. How you squirm, brow pinched as he arcs over you.
As he takes. As if he thought he wouldn’t get this chance, again. 
As if you're his, and you just might be.
It shoots straight to his cock, the tightening in his belly. Driving him near feral, with the way you watch, the hot shimmer of desire. 
“Gonna come in your tight, sweet cunt. Fill her up right.” It comes out low, almost desperate - if he could be. Those sharp thrusts turning shallow as your hips move, chasing after him.
Your eyes fix on his, teeth sinking into your lip as you grin. Knees closing around lithe hips, your ankle hooking around his to keep him close.
“Please.” You beg, “Cooper, please -”
The sound of his name has his teeth clicking together. A ragged groan, pressure against your wrists as he leans into you. 
Fitting his hips flush with yours, as he comes. Cock heavy and twitching as his hips rut - fucking his come deeper inside you with each pulse as he empties himself. 
Panting as he drifts down, but there’s no menace in the sharp edge of his words.
“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, sweetheart.”
It feels different this time. 
The weight of him as he stays seated in you. His fingers are still tight around your wrists, keeping you close on his terms. A hand planted near your shoulder, as the heave of breath slows. 
Something from before, slipping in.
He didn’t have to find you. You don’t even know how he did. 
Didn’t have to kill those men. Lay you down on his coat, fuck you until you couldn’t even think -
It has to mean something. 
And with the way his eyes trace over your face…
You know that Cooper feels it, too.
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When you jolt awake, you’re alone. 
You’re not sure when you drifted off, a wince when your hand scrubs over your face. An ache in your cheek, a much duller one settling between your thighs.
The spot next to you is cool, the coat gone. Your stomach flips, uneasy. Fingers fumbling as you redress - already stumbling for the door as you tug on your boots.
A knot winding tight in your chest as you slip through the door. A ragged sigh of relief when you see him, your back sagging against the wall. 
Not used to being idle. Finishing up his business, snapping the metal lid shut on a small crate. 
“Cooper.” 
His name rings out - those dark eyes finding you instantly.
Crossing the room slowly, with the jangle of his spurs. Knuckles tipping up your chin, frowning at your expression.
"Thought you were gone," You huff, embarrassed, “Thought it was all a dream.”
There’s the lightest twitch of his lips.
“If that was your dreams,” He husks, “I’d hate to see your nightmares, sweetheart.”
It’s the first time that the field has been leveled, between you. Something charged sparking, in the slow sweep of his eyes. 
“What next?” Your question is quiet - rough hum, as his eyes narrow. 
“Mean to find a courier.” His head tilts towards the crate behind him, “Send a lil’ somethin’ back to your Vault. Gotta see a man ‘bout his brother, too.”
The implications of both makes your stomach churn - another reminder of just how dangerous he is. 
You blink, with a small nod, “And… and after?”
“And after,” He drawls - with the sweep of his thumb against your chin, “I suppose we’ll have to see where the road takes us.”
Cooper’s hand drops. Palm upright, as it extends between you - an offer. 
Giving you a chance to run, now that your life is your own. 
“You in, sweetheart?”
It’s easy to answer.
With a smile - 
You take it.
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the end! ✨
honestly, thank you so much for reading this. I was feral over the idea of a one-shot, and there was so many kind comments that it blossomed into a longer story for them 💖 every comment has meant so much, and I have loved every second of writing this! thank you for the encouragement, and giving me an excuse to write more, because ahh I was (and am!!) so hooked! you all are the best. would love to know what you thought!
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wannabespiderman · 3 months
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Instructions unclear, sent a bowl of chocolate cereal.
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Bucky Barnes x reader
You get your grumpy old man a smartphone. Chaos ensues.
.
.
.
Bucky suspiciously inspected the black rectangle between his fingers. “That’s not the phone I had in mind.” Of course, he had probably been thinking of a damn rotary phone when you suggested he needed something to keep in touch with people. You knew he had this weird relationship with modern technology, he was very wary of everything electronic and if he didn’t get the hang of it immediately he would just get frustrated. On the other hand, if he was able to figure it out himself he was openly proud of it, telling you how easy it was. You always had to walk the fine line between something enhanced enough that it was actually useful these days and simple enough that he wouldn’t become grumpy and pout about it while talking your ear off at how ‘the simpler times’ were called that for a reason.
A Smartphone was very very risky. Sure, you could’ve found an old flip phone or a Nokia brick but those things just hadn’t survived the test of time and according to your very professional opinion as his partner and self-proclaimed emotional support nuisance, this man desperately  needed to stay in contact with the few people he would call his friends.
Despite your worry you put on your most supportive smile and turned the phone in his hand so he held it right side up. “Try it at least, okay? It’s cool.” You tried to assure him. He didn’t have to do a lot, you already set it up for him and downloaded all the apps you deemed necessary, helpful or fun, you even turned on the accessibility option so he could navigate his phone with one hand since the metal one wouldn’t work on a screen and would probably also leave scratches, so all that was left for him was to explore his new toy. You guided his pointer finger to the side of the phone and let him press the little button which made the screen turn on. Bucky gave you an unsure glance before turning his attention back to the phone in his hand and just kinda…stared at it until the screen turned off again. For a moment you didn’t know what was going on until you realized that with Bucky, specificity was key. You shook your head to shoo away the previous confusion his behavior caused and shuffled closer to him. “Do it again.” You encouraged him. Bucky’s brows furrowed slightly.
Oh no.
You held your breath, waiting for him to potentially hand the phone right back to you and suggesting that writing letters would be enough. After what felt like a minute he finally pressed the button again and you quietly released your breath. “Great! Now you just need to drag your thumb gently over the screen and you’re good to go.” Bucky slowly followed your instructions and you could practically feel the pride radiating off him, his eyes lighting up. Still, he tried to play it cool. “Huh. That was easy.”
Not specific enough.
You looked at your phone and tried to make out what exactly Bucky had sent you. It must’ve been a picture of his face, right? You thought you could see the brown of his hair in this blurry mess but on the other hand it could also be…maybe a bowl of chocolate cereal? Some Chili, maybe? No, there was definitely too little red for it to be Chili.
The man recently learned how to text like a normal person, more or less, but you didn’t know he also kind of figured out how to send pictures. His picture moved upwards when another blurry mess appeared in your chat. You squinted your eyes at the new picture, it was mostly white with some grey stripe in the middle. You gave up, no way you could figure out what the hell that one was.
Bucky…what is that? You typed out. The next message he sent you gave you move questions than answers.
I need a new phone. That was impossible, his smartphone was less than three days old. Sure, it could’ve cracked but you were sure he would’ve told you about that.
What’s wrong with your phone? Maybe I can help? You suggested. You didn’t have to wait for an answer too long.
Yes, please. You quietly chuckled to yourself, half amused by his struggles, half compassionate of them. You decided it would be best to talk to him face to face so you raked your fingers through your hair a few times to hide the fact that you’ve been hanging around in your bed for the last few hours and clicked the video call option on your screen. It rang and rang and…rang…until finally your screen lit up, or dulled down because all you could see was darkness with a touch of a chestnut color. You should’ve known that this would happen.
“Bucky, it’s a video call.” You informed him and watched as he pulled the phone away from his ear and instead looked at his screen, his brows furrowed like he always did when he lost a fight against technology. “Oh…” He grumbled.
“So, what’s wrong with your phone?” Bucky pressed his lips together, his eyes looking anywhere but at his phone.
“Bucky?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. Bucky let out a sigh and wiped his face with his right hand but you could see the slight blush forming on the apples of his cheeks.
“Was anyone going to tell me that there are two cameras? Why the hell would anyone need two?” You saw him lean against the headrest and turn his head to the side with an annoyed expression. Your heart melted a little bit, you couldn’t help but find it endearing at how clueless he was when it came to things that were common knowledge to you.
“James, stop pouting.” There was a tone of amusement in your voice even though you tried to feign sternness. Bucky’s head shot back towards where he could see you on the screen in his hand and blinked a few times as if he was trying to comprehend what you just said. You never really called him by his first name and his reaction made you clench your jaw and hold your breath so you wouldn’t burst out laughing.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” You asked innocently and batted your lashes towards your camera. Bucky narrowed his eyes but couldn’t suppress the little smile that was tugging on the corners of his mouth. You grinned triumphantly, happy that you could at least lighten his mood a little bit. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You finally said and playfully scrunched your nose. “So was that it? Did you have a problem taking pictures because you tried to take them with the outer camera?” Buckys smile slightly faltered but he chuckled nonetheless.
“Yeah, I guess. Sorry to be a bother with all the…you know, modern stuff, I-“ You cut him off immediately. “Don’t you dare apologize for that, you’re still learning and I’m happy to help. Hey, I’m very proud of you for making it work with the phone.” Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly but you could see his eyes soften. “I try.”
You continued talking to him for a while about nothing in particular until you decided that you both needed some rest and hung up. It was merely twenty minutes later, you just settled down and closed your eyes when your phone vibrated. A message from Bucky. You curiously opened the message to see if he had any more problems but instead your lips curled into a big, bright smile.
He sent you a picture, this time you could fully make out what it was, a photo of a shirtless Bucky laying on his couch, his eyes crinkled as he wore a proud grin with the caption I figured it out!
__________
Tag list: @lunaroserites
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garoujo · 1 year
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✩ ˛˚ . WARM ME UP ; — cock-warming various blue lock boys.
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FEATURING: nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, bachira meguru + mikage reo.
warnings: f!reader, cockwarming, all characters written 22+, a little teasing in some, slight somno in bachi’s [hes inside of u before ur asleep], slight body worship (?) in reo’s, sensitive boys mostly. note: my mind spiralled w nagi’s first so that’s why his is longer but i decided 2 make it into hcs.
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✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO
“fuck—ah, y’re g’nna make me die, quit feeling sooo good ‘ts no fair.” nagi murmurs from where he’s got you spread across his lap, resting on the edge of his bed with his cock buried in your sweet walls as he tries to beat his own high score on his game.
you’d gotten a little bored watching him, a little needy as you pressed yourself up against him and admired the way he’d bite on his lower lip as he concentrated, skilful fingers tapping at the buttons on his controller as small, low grunts of frustration fell from his parted lips.
but nagi had welcomed you so easily when you’d made your way into his lap, lifting up his arms to allow you to slide right in before he sent you a lidded, questioning look when he felt you pull at the waistband of his sweats. “huh? ‘m in a game right now, angel.”
“it’ll help you concentrate, sei.. promise.”
it’s doing anything but though, the snowy-haired striker underneath you realises with another needy, warm twitch of your walls around him. even just the press of your chest against his is driving him crazy, feeling you press kisses along his jawline when he whines from missing another shot — he can barely concentrate on anything but you.
“no fair.. you made me miss another headshot, pretty thing.” nagi grumbles as he presses his forehead against your shoulder, sighing while a tight, cute pout rests on his lips. but it’s almost like an apology, the sinful press of your hips against his as you push closer — just enough to knock the air out of him when you press his cock even deeper into you.
“hey, c-come on! angel, y’re playing dirty, wanna up my online ranking.” there’s an unsteady waver to his words that’s followed by the instinctive twitch of his hips into yours, like he’s chasing more of the friction you're teasing him with as he sighs.
“think of it as a boss fight, sei.. don’t wanna make it too easy.” your words are whispery and pretty as you pull back to trace your fingertip across the shape of nagi’s jawline — drawing his full attention as his head twists to look at you. hes starry eyed and dazed, flushed from his cheeks to his neck and you’re pretty sure the eye contact alone makes his cock twitch from where it’s pressed into you.
“eh, ‘ts no fair when you know all my weaknesses, pretty thing. gotta try somethin’ else, i guess.” it’s drawled, filthy the low tone his voice takes before he’s drawing closer to kiss you, whimpering against your lips before he’s forgetting the controller in favour of grabbing you instead.
the quick movements are followed by your back meeting the mattress as he presses you into the sheets with every deep, messy press of his lips. “sei! your game.” you gasp when your words urge his first real thrust into you, so deep and good that your toes curl from where they’re wrapped around his hips.
“eh, it’s fine.. ‘ll beat it later, f-fuck—wanna win this side quest first.”
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✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI SAE
sae was tired from practice today, but you were feeling particularly needy and as much as his muscles ached — he still couldn’t help but use this opportunity to his advantage, especially when you were already palming at him just as he returned home.
“i’ve been at practice all day, know i’m tired. is this how you welcome me home?” he drawls from where he’s got you spread out against him — your back is resting against his chest as your head rolls back against his shoulder, thighs hooked over his own as his fingers circle your clit — unmoving even though his cock is already buried deep inside of you.
there’s a certain sharpness to sae’s tone that makes you twitch, shaking your head against him as your nails scratch along his forearm. you’re so desperate for him, for him to move and fuck you — it wouldn’t take much, not when he’s touching you just right, but it’s not enough — he knows that.
“just need you, sae. i, ah—missed you today..” your hips twitch above him, an obvious little plea as his cock brushes along the spongy spot inside of you but he’s too fast, sighing before his free hand is pressing your hips back tight against his.
"how much?" sae grunts with the sweet, frustrated whine that pushes past your lips as he grinds up into you - offering you an inch before he takes it from you completely, pressing a kiss against your shoulder after like hes trying to soothe you. "how much did you miss me, hm?"
the way he presses into your clit is deliberate, baring down harder on the puffy bud until you’re thighs are shaking and twitching, begging for him to hurry up and move. your lips part, head lolling back against his shoulder before he’s pressing another smeared kiss against your cheek, and sending you a sharp looks that’s urging you to hurry up and answer.
“so much, missed you so much! been waiting for you, sae.. wanted you here.” your voice breaks under the weight of your arousal but you swear you feel sae’s cock twitch at the sound. it’s followed by a low hum, like he’s considering your answer before his hand on your hip eases — finally letting you move with another slow roll of his own that presses his cock against the swollen, sweet spots inside of you.
“then take what you need, sweetheart. don’t keep me waiting.”
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✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI RIN
it was impossible to move rin from his place on the couch when he’s examining team plays, his own most importantly — teeth gritting with concentration despite the way you’re pressed into his chest, palming at his body as his cock rests inside of your slick cunt.
but as good as it feels, finally having him buried in you like you asked, you’d rather he was moving — turning you to putty above him and fucking every single thought out of your mind that wasn’t him. so you decide to test the boundaries a little, shifting your hips deliberately until you feel his large palms squeeze at your hips and your boyfriend hiss from between his teeth.
“quit— fuck, quit it.” you almost shiver at the low, sharp tone rin’s voice takes but you can tell there’s no real irritation behind it when you notice the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. he’s just as wound up as you are, his brows crumbling as he tries to focus on the tv infront of him — nibbling on his lower lip to distract him from the warm squeeze of your walls.
“you said you wouldn’t move..” he grits, still refusing to meet your gaze despite the way every squeeze of your hands across his body makes his breathing hitch. you’ve got him so fucking wound up, he’s so lukewarm — so sensitive, he can’t even control himself for 10 fucking minutes.
“but i need you, rin. not my fault you feel so good.” rin can feel the back of his neck stinging with a flush when you smear a kiss along his jawline, making his fingers squeeze even tighter into your hips before he’s growling under his breath. but the way you purr when he readjusts himself beneath you, melting into him with a tiny, slight grind of his cock into you makes him feel fucking dizzy.
it’s fast, the way he’s suddenly readjusting his feet and beginning a pace that’s too quick, and if it wasn’t for his grip on you — you’d have bounced off of his lap completely. every wet smack of his hips is loud and clapping and driven by the pure determination to feel you creaming around him as he sends the game on the tv a lidded glare.
“can’t even control yourself—uggh, shit—you’ve got until the first half finishes to cum or ‘m stopping.. and you better—take all of it.”
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✩ ˛˚ . BACHIRA MEGURU
it had become sort of a routine at this point, bachira would come home from practice — wound up and so fucking hard before he was fucking you senseless, followed by him falling asleep pressed up against you while his cock still rested inside of your cunt.
you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t comfortable though and he knew exactly how to get you to accept, bathing you in wet presses of his lips and low chuckles. “jus’ wanna feel you round me, baby. m’kay? sleep sooo good like that, so warm.” you couldn’t deny him, not when you’re still coming down from the orgasm he’s dug out of you.
but now, you feel yourself wake up from your own nap — roused by the sudden movement behind you as you feel bachira’s chest press tighter against your back — followed by the sudden, deep press of his cock along the still swollen spots inside of you. “baby~ already so wet, should’a just woke me up if you wanted it, gotta take care of you.. m’kay?”
you’re not sure if it’s the sleep that still laces your body but you already feel like putty at his touch, he’s deliberately grazing his cock along the spots that crave him most — sending intoxicating little aftershocks through your body that have you gasping with every quick thrust.
bachira chuckles when your lips part to moan, followed by another loud, wet smack of his hips as his head rests against the back of your shoulder. “already so wet, baby. mhm.. you been dreaming ‘bout me? feels like you have~” he sings, whimpers when he feels you squeeze around him at the words but that only pushes him to go faster, deeper.
it’s hard to believe he was sleeping a moment ago with how well he’s working your body, palming and grabbing at your figure as moans fall from his lips — burying them into your skin as he smears kisses along your shoulders. every deep press of his cock is eased by the remnants of both your previous orgasms, squelching loudly as he pushes himself even deeper.
“awww~ i knew you wanted it, baby. mhm— ah! just gotta ask, can make you feel so good~ lemme take care of you, m’kay?”
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✩ ˛˚ . MIKAGE REO
reo was obsessed with you, that much was obvious — although he’d spend his whole day proving it to you if he had to. every touch of his hands on your skin made you melt into him, he worked you with such precision but such a gentleness that you couldn’t help but seek out more.
but these moments specifically were some of your favourites, the ones when he’s pulled you onto his lap — onto his cock as his fingers leave featherlight touches along your skin as he looks up at you. it was intoxicating, to watch him appreciate every part of you, taking a slow, languid palmful of your breast as he loses himself in the mindless squeeze of your walls around him.
“does that feel good, bunny? yeah?” reo asks as his breathing cools the spit he’s left across your tits, giving you a lidded — dazed look until you’re nodding out a yes and he’s messily dragging his tongue along your nipple. you feel dizzy with how good it feels, every squeeze of his palm as he suckles at your nipples languidly, massaging and pinching at you as you try your best to keep your hips still.
but every lav of his tongue, every slow and mindless roll of it over your aching tits makes him twitch from where he’s buried in you but he’s too intoxicated, too enamoured by the way your walls squeeze with every swipe of his muscle against you.
“fuck, bunny. look so pretty, keep still for me. kay?” it almost hurts how tight your fingers are digging into reo’s shoulders with your sweet little uh huh, followed by another dreamy whimper as he suckles kisses from one breast to the next. his cheeks and chin are slick with his own spit from every sloppy press of his lips against you, and it feels so fucking good despite the way his cock still hasn’t moved inside of you.
a shaky sound breaks from his lips when you let your head roll back, your hands smoothing through his hair before the pull at the roots and he feels like he could fucking cum right there and then. you feel fucking boneless above him, melting with every greedy palm and press of his lips and hands.
“that’s it, bunny. wanna see how much you need me first.”
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© 2023 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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mediumgayitalian · 2 months
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“Oh, come on, there’s just —” Will blows an errant curl from out of his eyes, cheeks red with exertion, balancing nimbly on his feet to put both hands on his hips. “There’s no way, Nico.”
Nico, not blessed with such balance, has to hold all footholds with all limbs, staring warily at the lava wall’s snake holes.
“What? I’m just not as good as you.”
Will flops his right arm outwards, narrowly avoiding smacking it against the rock. “But you are!”
Nico shifts his wary gaze from the snake holes to Will’s rope harness. Is it tight enough? It better be tight enough. Will is putting a lot of faith in it, right now.
“You scaled those cliffs in — in the place —” he trips, still, over the pit, on the odd time he mentions it, and it always makes Nico wince — “like it was nothing! And whenever Percy visits and challenges you you’re suddenly the lava wall expert!” He turns stern blue eyes to face Nico’s head-on. “Not buying it, di Angelo!”
A gush of lava forces him to resume climbing, but there’s an aggression to his movements — a specific, stiff, curated aggression, that Nico has learned means anxiety in people known as William Andrew Solace. That, and coupled with the rapid muttering which, in between the roar of molten stone, Nico believes is a a repetition of “dumbass” “always tryna act a goddamn fool” and “I’m gonna kill him before he sends me into cardiac arrest again”, interspersed with random swears in English, Latin, Ancient Greek, and also — gods — Klingon.
“Will.”
Will ignores him, scampering the last few feet up the wall and slapping the top before relaying down. Nico sighs, following him (albeit significantly slower).
“Will.”
“You’re hiding something from me.” He practically rips the harness off his body — do not think about that do not think about that do not think about that — and shoves it on the hook so hard it damn near snaps off. The look he levels in Nico’s direction practically turns him to stone, it’s so frigid, and he has to resist a shiver. “I can tell.”
It takes a good amount of pushing to make Will all testy like this. Sure, his buttons are easy to push, but most of that is for show. He likes to be dramatic. (Especially because he knows Nico will indulge him, more than anyone else ever has. He relishes in it, Nico thinks; he likes that Nico will watch his productions. An Apollo kid through and through.) He’s not usually one to show his genuine frustration.
But, hoo, boy, when he is frustrated.
Nico has a bad, bad habit of making it worse.
(As if it’s his fault that Will’s hot when he’s mad.)
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico says, forcibly lightly. He sticks his hand out defiantly. “Check me, why don’t you? Not hiding anything.”
He really isn’t. No injuries, no illness, hell, he’s not even tired. Had a full three meals and everything. Even his perpetually achey joints aren’t bad today.
All of this, obviously, is communicated when Will touches him, squinting suspiciously at their joined hands.
“You’re heart rate is high,” he mutters petulantly.
Nico looks at him patiently. “That’s ‘cause my smokeshow boyfriend is holding my hand.”
Grumpy as he’s trying to be, his ears redden. A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.
“Shut up.”
Nico grins, pulling his hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the knuckles.
“No.”
“Whatever,” Will says, snatching his hand back. His smile spreads widely across his face, now, and he looks away, as pleased as he is exasperated. “You’re still being a weirdo. I should not be so far ahead of you on the wall, Neeks.”
Success — back to nicknames. Crisis averted.
“Have you considered that you’re the camp-wide record holder for a reason, you spider monkey?”
“Still!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nico gets up on his tiptoes, pressing a lingering kiss to the bridge of his freckled nose. “Stop worrying about me, Solace. I’m fine. Burn off some steam, I’ll watch.”
Will huffs. “Fine. But I’ll find out, y’hear me? Truth can’t hide from me for long.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He watches as Will suits back up, helping him with his more complicated straps (because Nico was raised to be a gentleman, obviously, why else) and shooing him away when he opens his mouth for more interrogations. He switches to sticking out his tongue, and after a moment of hesitation, bounds back over to his first true love — being a big nerdy jock dork.
Nico settles on the grass several feet away from the wall, pretending to clean his sword. After a few minutes, he hears footsteps, and two people sit next to him on either side.
“So,” says Lou Ellen, ignoring Nico’s suspicious look as she tosses a glowing ball of something around, “how come you’re not climbing?”
Nico shrugs. “Only so many times you can climb before it gets boring.”
On his other side, Cecil makes a loud buzzer sound.
“Nope! Wrong answer. Try again.”
Nico is a dignified grownup who refuses to stoop down to Cecil’s level by responding. Instead, he reaches over and pokes him in his ridiculously sensitive ribs, hard, sending him sprawling with a screech.
“Shut up,” he says mildly, as his friend flails. “I’m trying to be a supportive boyfriend, and I can’t do that with all your whining.”
Will has, in the ten minutes since he started, made it halfway up the wall. He seems to have it programmed to the Super Extra Mega Evil Insane mode that the Athena and Ares kids invented just for him, since he smoked all the other levels. He dodges a shot of lava with a laugh, throwing himself to the side and hanging on with three fingers and one scuffed sneaker poised on the tiniest sliver of rock. His attention is broken when Lou Ellen sticks her face right in Nico’s field of vision, tracing Nico’s eyeline with narrowed eyes.
“Ah,” she nods knowingly. “You’re staring at his ass.”
Nico falters, damn near slicing his own fingers off. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he says blithely. He gestures without looking at his sword. “I’m busy, see?”
She scoffs. “Real busy. That’s why you almost just did emergency surgery on yourself.”
“Exactly.”
Will pushes up a foot, shifting his hips and launching himself upwards. He makes a little shout of victory, plastering himself to the wall to keep balance, every muscle tensed.
From his place on the floor, Cecil makes an appreciative noise. “He does have a nice ass. Can’t blame you for looking.”
Nico frowns. “Hey. Stop objectifying my boyfriend.” He reaches out and smacks a hand over Cecil’s eyes. “That’s my job.”
“You guys are ridiculous.”
Nico reaches over and puts a hand over her eyes, too, ‘cause there’s no missing where they’re pointed.
“Shut up or I’ll literally put shadows into your retinae and blind you forever,” Nico threatens. (Is this a thing he can do? No. Do his friends know this? Also no.)
“You’re a dictator!” Cecil protests.
“Depriving us of basic human rights!” Lou Ellen agrees.
Nico shrugs. He glances back up the the climbing wall, where he has a very perfect view — and a great reason to never even try to climb faster than Will does. He grins.
“Too bad for you guys.”
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kachowder · 1 year
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Concept
Yandere M!Therapist x reader
Tw: Manipulative, Implied nsfw (?), power dynamic(?),
Cameron didnt know when it started, or how. His job was to help people. To be there to listen to them, an impartial voice for people who struggled.
He was supposed to help.
But god did you make it ever so hard.
He remembered his first impression of you, and your story. He had his fair share of attractive patients, though he’d never been attracted to them. Or almost anyone really. He found it he viewed all his clients solely as his patients. People he needed, wanted to help. He couldn’t see them in any other way. But alas, he’d be a filthy liar if he said that his heart hadn’t fluttered and his cheeks hadn’t warmed at his first sight of you.
It was easy to brush off though. His morals were still uptight and resilient. No patient relationships. He was sure it would stay that way as well.
Your story was sad, as it often was for all his patients. He sympathized with you, it was his job to do so, and he occasionally asked you to elaborate on certain phrases or feelings you used.
You didn’t cuss like many of his patients did. Though it could’ve been because you weren’t comfortable with him just yet.
He liked the way you spoke though. It was delicate. Not necessarily your voice, but just the way you phrased things. Like you knew the worlds secrets but kept them to yourself. You seemed complex in a way he couldn’t describe. Though perhaps he was giving you too much credit. Maybe you just liked to read.
To him, it seemed you had long since become, to some extent, accepting of the things you dealt with, and truly just needed someone to listen to you. Perhaps tell you that you weren’t over reacting.
You were funny. Possibly a cope, but he didn’t mind much. He couldn’t help himself from grinning and laughing a few times, which you always seemed proud of.
It made him feel weird.
At the end of the session you told him you’d be coming back the following week. That you enjoyed talking to him.
He would never tell you how excited he had been for your next appointment.
Eventually, as time went on, and he began seeing you more, he began to feel something.
A fluttering sensation when he spoke to you.
A deep warmth that swelled all over his skin, and left him feeling almost giddy.
He slowly started being more responsive. More than his job obligated him to be anyway. He asked questions. Casual ones at first. Though they increased with each session.
It started to feel like you were two friends just hanging out together. Chatting about everything and anything. There were still moments where you would discuss more pressing topics. Like the guy who wouldn’t leave you alone, and how he suddenly disappeared one day after one of your sessions.
He assured you that the man must’ve given up, and that possibly the advice he’d given you had helped. You seemed unsettled for a moment, but the soft smile you sent him after, accompanied by a sweet “thank you”, made him feel as if a sleepless night or two didn’t matter so much.
Things got a bit more complicated after that.
He wasn’t quite sure when, but he started seeking your praise and approval. Your attention.
He started dressing up. Simple at first. A new shirt. More form fitting pants. Maybe a nice watch or necklace.
He had the money. So that wasn’t an issue for him. He could take care of you.
Over time though, the simple compliments weren’t enough. He wanted you to stare. He wanted your eyes all over him. He wanted you to stare down at him like he was something you needed. That you couldn’t live with out.
A few buttons left apart. A tighter shirt. Even tighter pants. Maybe even a little makeup. Nothing fancy. He just wanted you to compliment his skill. He had a few sisters to thank for that.
He remembered you had offhandedly mentioned how good he looked red once.
He wore it almost every session after that.
He loved watching the way your eyes would snap to him when you’d step into his office. The way your eyes would roam for a moment before you looked away out of respect. No. Stare more. Longer. Undress me with your eyes. Please please please.
You offhandedly asked why he had been so well dressed, the first time it happened. He was a bit embarrassed. Especially by the realization of why he had been dressing up. He told you he was going on a date. A very loud part of him wanted to see a reaction. A sign. Even the smallest one that showed you liked him. That you were interested in him.
But you smiled. That beautiful, insufferable, tormenting, lovely smile.
He hated it.
Be angry. Be jealous. Do something. Anything. Want him need him. Do it do it do it doitdoit
It’s not enough.
Before he knew it, he was sabotaging your social life left and right.
“Oh how cruel of them.”
“They shouldn’t have done that. It hurt didn’t it?”
“They don’t know you”
“You don’t need them.”
He thanked his career at times like this.
He knew what buttons to push. What strings to pull. You relied on him.
Your visits became more frequent.
The “hands to yourself policy” was discarded. You leaned on him. Laid your head in his lap (after many many attempts at persuasion). His well manicured fingers traced your skin. He’d hum. Give his thoughts.
And slowly sunk his claws deep into you.
You needed therapy. His therapy. You needed him.
Almost as much as he needed you.
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A/n: Woo! A human! That’s a first. Anyway I hope you guys like him :) <3 I do not condone yandere behavior this is purely fiction <3
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beenbaanbuun · 3 months
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non sexual dominance w/hongjoong
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hongjoong is a natural leader
i mean look at him, i literally couldn’t say a more obvious thing if i tried
everything he does, he shows this natural power he has, and it just makes him so easy to follow
even if he’s being a little more on the controlling side, no one really blinks an eye at it because it’s hongjoong! it’s just comes so naturally to him
and obviously that bleeds into your relationship
it’s gentle and soft, and half the time he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, but you do
and that’s not a bad thing… at all
“you’re sat too far away,” he says to you one evening when you’re out together at a random gathering, “come closer.”
all your other friends are preoccupied by their own conversations so you don’t mind putting your full attention on your boyfriend
“i’m on a seperate chair, joong,” you roll your eyes, “obviously i’m not going to be pressed up to your side.”
he cocks a brow at your defiance before leaning a little closer to you
“i’m not asking you to be pressed to my side, i just want you to move your chair a little closer,” his voice was quiet and gentle, but there was still a commanding undertone to it
of course you scoffed at his ridiculous request, but it didn’t stop you from complying
you didn’t argue back, and just shuffled your chair a couple of inches closer to him
“good girl,” he smiles and kisses your cheek, finally having you close enough to do that
he holds your hand under the table for the rest of the night to make sure you don’t stray too far again
and then a couple of nights later you’re up late, sat at your desk with your head shoved into your laptop
hongjoong arrived at your place no more than half an hour ago - which is how you know its late - and is already tucked up in your bed
he watches you carefully as you sigh for the hundredth time
it’s clear to him that you’re stressed, as he just gets out of bed and walks over to you silently
“when was the last time you saved it?” he asks as though he’s just curious
perhaps he’s worried about you losing all the stuff you’d worked so hard on
“i’ll save it now,” you reply, and he watches as you click the little button at the top of the screen, “thanks for reminding me- hey!”
your eyes shoot up to his face as he shuts the lid of the laptop, unplugs it and picks it up
his expression is neutral as he stares down at your clearly upset one, but he makes no move to give you your laptop back
“bed,” he says, “i’m confiscating this until morning.”
“hongjoong, that’s not fair!”
he rolls his eyes
“i don’t care,” he turns and begins to walk back to his side of the bed, “you’re tired and stressed and i’m not going to sit and watch you work yourself up. get in bed, now.”
he places his laptop on his bedside table before crawling back into bed
there’s nothing to stop you taking it, but unless you want hongjoong up your ass about it for the next few days, you know not to
you don’t get up from your seat for just a few seconds, but it seems like it’s a few seconds too long for hongjoong
“if i have to come over there and carry you to bed, i won’t be happy,” he warns
and although you know he’s not being completely serious about the carrying thing, he is about being unhappy
he likes you to take good care of yourself so of course he gets a little annoyed when you don’t listen to him telling you to
so you get up and shuffle over to the bed where he’s waiting with open arms and a smile
“that wasn’t too hard was it?” you shake your head, “good, now come cuddle…”
but it isn’t just a one time thing, and hongjoong isn’t always at your apartment to tell you to look after yourself
more often than not, you end up staying up later than you should, and by the time the project is over, you’re worn down and tired
and hongjoong can see that
obviously he isn’t happy in the way you’re treating yourself (you always remind him that he’s the same way, but he always refuses to acknowledge that fact) so he takes it upon himself to monitor your recuperation
brings you food every day and either watches you eat it, or insists on feeding you himself
you complain about the latter, reminding that you’re perfectly capable of putting food in your own mouth
he just rolls his eyes and asks you to ‘let him do this’
you realise after some time that half of the reason he’s doing this is because of guilt that he wasn’t there more often to stop you overworking yourself
you have to remind him that he has a life outside of you and he can’t always be there to take care of you
“what if i just moved in?” he asks as he spoons some soup into your mouth, “that way i could monitor you…”
you swallow the soup quickly just so you can tut at him
“first of all, i don’t need monitoring,” he makes a sound to let you know he disagrees, “and secondly, you seriously want to leave jongho and wooyoung alone together?“
hongjoong agrees that would be a bad idea since both of the boys like to push the other’s buttons
“well, what if you move into the dorms?” he suggests after a moment of silence
“you don’t need to monitor me!”
he relents after a quick back and forth, finally agreeing that sure, maybe you are capable of taking care of yourself without him to help
the thought makes him a little sadder than it should, though
because he likes taking care of you…
feeding you, washing your hair in the bath, keeping a hand on you whenever you’re out together
and maybe you moving in together is less him monitoring you, and more him just being able to care for you in the way that he wants to
to be able to lead you to make the best decisions for yourself, even if he isn’t too good at doing that for himself
but although it made him said, he was fine conceding to your will this time
he likes having that dominance over you, but he’d never force you into something so big if you aren’t quite ready for it
for now he’s stick to showing up at your place unannounced and taking care of you from there
reminding you to eat when he knows you haven’t
pulling you around by your waist when he doesn’t want you too far from him
pinning you to the couch when he knows you’re too fidgety to relax properly
he’d have to happy with just that for the time being
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