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#thank you to all those who pushed me to get it done
muffinpink02 · 1 day
Note
Perhaps some lucy inspo:
Lucy x (reader or ona) are on a spa trip, they haven’t done anything sexual in a couple of days for x reason, so now they can’t keep their hands off each other
extra inspo for if you write jealousy fics:
But there is someone (a worker or fellow visitor) who also cannot keep their hands off lucy (or ona) and eventually the mixture of jealousy, good looking gf, no sexual activities became to much and I think we can all imagine what happened either at the hotel (or at home)😌
just some inspo, you don’t have to use this storyline and can also rewrite it however, perhaps private jacuzzi on vacay instead of spa day etc etc
also cannot wait for the next chapters of the fics you’re currently writing. Massive fan of your work!!
The Big O
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Thank you to the beautiful anon for this idea. Here you go. Its very quick and rushed, sorry.
Warning - Smut - angry sex
“I can’t wait for this. We needed a break.” Ona smiled over at Lucy as she opened the balcony doors of the hotel room. The taller girl lugged their shared suitcase into the room. Smiling at her girlfriend's excitement.
It had been a while since the couple had a break together, the last real holiday they had was after the World Cup. Yeah, they had breaks in between but they hadn’t been on a summer holiday. They had both been so busy with their own schedules, not to mention the champions league. They became passing ships in the night, hardly really spending time together. That also meant that they hadn’t been able to be intimate with each other in a while. 3 weeks to be exact. 
So, yeah, they needed this. They made a promise to shut off their phones, no emails, no calls, nothing that could distract them. 
“Yeah. I just can’t wait to see you in that bikini you brought.” The older brunette smiled playfully at Ona. 
“Oh, what one?” Ona smiled innocently.
The older brunette stepped into Onas space, smiling down at the doe-eyed girl. “The one that shows off your arse perfectly.”
Ona bit her lip. Something she knew that drove Lucy crazy. The pair had been flirting the whole way here, both wanting each other desperately. Lucy was finding it hard to keep her hands to herself on the flight, her fingers had found themselves between Ona’s legs, teasingly stroking Ona’s bare thighs the whole plain journey. The younger girl didn’t mind at first but when Lucy's fingers got higher and higher to her core she couldn't stop the heat burning between her legs. She was close to dragging Lucy into the plains toilet just to get some kind of release. 
“I love it when you look at me like that.” Lucy purred. She put her finger under Ona’s chin, making the girl look up at her. 
“Like what?” Ona whispered. She knew what she was doing. 
A lot of people would mistake Ona’s innocent look for being the softer one in the bedroom, the more submissive one. And yeah, she definitely was but she could also be very dominating when she wanted to be. She could play Lucy so easily, and Lucy loved it. She would fall for those beautiful brown Disney like eyes everytime, doing anything Ona would ask of her. 
“You know exactly what I'm talking about.” Lucy cupped the shorter girl's face and slowly brought her lips to her own. It was slow at first, both feeling the other girl's mouth, tasting the other's lips. Ona’s watermelon gloss tingled the tip of Lucy's tongue, making her mouth water. Lucy grabbed the back of Ona's neck, pushing her tongue into her mouth. Ona whimpered on feeling her girlfriend's smooth tongue push past her lips and into her mouth.
“Ergh, I love when you make those noises.” 
The Spaniard giggled, but it was cut off when Lucy pushed her on her back, hitting the soft mattress below her. She quickly climbed on top of the smaller girl, reattaching her lips to Ona’s own. It was quick messy kisses, the sounds of their wet lips smacking hard against the other. It was when Lucy started to roll her hips into Ona’s core that the Spaniard started to moan.
“Lu-,” 
Ona was cut off from Lucy sucking on her neck.
Ona could feel her underwear becoming wetter, she wanted Lucy so badly. Her next words were going to be difficult.
“Lucy, we have to st- aaa.”
Lucy quickly slipped her hand into Ona’s shorts, touching her clothed sex.
“So wet already.” Lucy hummed cockily.
Ona gritted her teeth. It had been too long since she felt Lucy between her legs. So long since she felt those talented fingers inside her. She wanted nothing more then for Lucy to fuck her right here, right now, but she had to stop her.
“Lucy, w-we have to s-stop.”
Lucy stopped, looking down at her girlfriend, who was now panting hard. Her lips swollen from Lucy's relentless sucking.
“Stop? Why?” Her confused horny face made Ona’s pussy clench.
“I booked us a spa treatment. We have to be there in 10 minutes.” 
“Are you saying I can’t have you screaming my name in 2 minutes? Because I take that as a challenge.” Lucy smirked down at Ona, capturing her lips once more.
Ona let herself get lost in Lucy's kisses once more. It was when Lucy started to push Ona’s t-shirt up, her short nails scratching against her tight skin, bringing Ona back into the presence.
“We can’t. Come. I’ll make it up to you later.” Ona gave a quick kiss to Lucy's lips before pushing her off. 
Lucy let out a sigh and smiled. “You will definitely make it up to me.” She slapped Ona’s arse playfully, making the younger girl yelp.
Never one to be outdone, Ona stepped in front of Lucy, giving her best doe eye impression. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.” 
The northerner's jaw clenched, her eyes closed as she let out a frustrated sigh.
“You better get us to the spa before I throw you on that bed.” 
Ona giggled, she loved to rile up Lucy, she had found in the past that it would always make the sex just a little more fiery, more passionate, a lot more dirty.
The girls quickly got ready for the appointment. They changed into their bikinis and headed to the spa. They checked in and waited in the seating area for their masseuse. Lucy leaned into Ona. “I definitely would have had you screaming my name in that time.” 
Ona chuckled. “Stop. Try and calm down, you’re going to have someone touching you, I don’t want you all worked up for them.” 
Lucy ignored that, and continued.
“I just hope you know that I brought the big one, the one that you beg me to go slow with.”
Ona felt the chills go up her back from Lucy's words. She felt her cunt tighten, thinking about that exact strap Lucy was referring to. 
“Fuck, Lucy.” Ona whispeared.
Before Ona could respond, with a full sentence, not that she really could have, her mind had turned to mush, two women came into the waiting room.
“Hi, I’m Sarah, I’m here for Lucy.” A blonde woman smiled at the pair. 
“That's me.” Lucy smiled.
“And you must be Ona. I’m Sam.” The tall brunette masseuse smiled at the younger girl. 
Lucy didn’t miss the way the masseuse eyed up Ona. 
“That's me.” Ona smiled.
“Perfect.” Sam's grin was devilish. Lucy didn’t like it one bit.
The women sat next to each of the girls, talking about the session and what it would involve. Even though Lucy was trying to listen, her eyes kept wandering over to Ona and the tall brunette. They were speaking Catalan. The women had heard Ona’s accent and of course she happened to also be Catalonian too. So even though Lucy knew a lot of Spanish, she wasn't able to pick up the conversation. Especially at the rate they were speaking. Whatever they were talking about must have been funny because Ona was constantly laughing at the pretty brunette. And for some particular reason Sam had to constantly keep touching Ona’s bare thigh. 
“So does that sound good, Lucy?” Sarah asked.
Lucy was pulled out of her stare off, with the back of Sam's head. “Hmm? Oh yeah, that's great.” She nodded. 
“Great. I’m just going to grab some bits and we’ll head over.” 
Lucy nodded and smiled, she wasn't even sure what treatment she had agreed on.
“Grcias Sam.” Ona smiled. Sam walked out of the room, possibly doing the same thing Sarah was doing. Ona looked over at Lucy, who looked a bit flustered. 
“Hey, what are you getting?” Ona asked.
“Oh erm, the Swedish rock salt, tissue massage.” Lucy was sure that's what Sarah said. “You?”
“Sam suggested I get a full body deep tissue massage. She said it's the best type for what we do.”
“Hmm, so she knows who you are?” 
“Yeah, she's actually not far from my town.”
“Hmm, small world.” Lucy smiled, but it was her weird smile. Ona knew that smile.
The women came back, holding white robes. They followed each woman to their own rooms. The pair smiled as they separated. Lucy noticing once more how Sam’s eyes roamed over Ona. Even though this was meant to be a relaxing moment, Lucy was far from relaxed. She couldn't stop thinking about Ona in the other room, being touched by the other woman. 
“Okay, so you’re very tight on your shoulders, I’m going to work on that for a bit. Just try to relax, you feel very tense.” Sarah said.
Lucy hummed. Even though Sarah had no clue about why Lucy was currently very tense right now, she knew she was right, she needed to relax. She tried. Though she couldn't stop the thoughts of Sam’s hands going an inch too high up Ona’s towel, or an inch too low down her back. Or if she made Ona moan from her touches, what if she made those cute sexy noises that only Lucy pulled from her. Lucy may have regretted teasing Ona before the session.
The 45 minutes had passed. Lucy got dressed and thanked Sarah, though the girl was only more tense. Lucy waited in the waiting room for Ona, even though they both had a 45 minute treatment, Lucy waited another 15 minutes before she saw Ona. The girl had a giant dopey smile on her face. Her cheeks had a pink flush to it. Her hair had been in her neat classic bun before she went in the room with Sam, but now it was down and messy. The girl literally looked like she had just been fucked. And Lucy would know, she had made her look like that plenty of times.
“How was it?” Ona asked, her voice sounded rough.
“Good, you?” 
“Soooo good, I don’t think I’ve ever had it like that before. She knew what she was doing.” Ona smiled.
“Hmm, good, good. Why so long?” 
“Ohh, it was her last session, she gave me head,- a head massage.” Ona started to bun her hair back up.
Lucy raised her brows at Ona’s words. “Ohhh, nice of her.” 
Ona nodded, not noticing Lucy's clear annoyance, or if she did she was ignoring it. 
“Yeah. I’m hungry. Shall we grab something to eat? 
“Sure.” 
The girls grabbed lunch in the hotel. Lucy had calmed down after Ona snaked her hand in hers, mindlessly stroking her knuckles, something that Lucy loved. She knew she was just being jealous, not having sex for so long probably made it worse. Her body was ready to combust and the quick make out session they had in the hotel room before really didn't help.
They sat at the hotel's beach, soaking in the sun, finally relaxing. She looked over at Ona laying on her front, her beautiful arse cheeks swallowing the bikini. Lucy had to lick her lips, making sure she wasn't actually dribbling.
“Do you want a drink? I’ll go to the bar.”
Ona smiled, pushing her glasses down. “Can I get a strawberry daiquiri, please?” 
Lucy kissed Ona deeply, holding the back of her head. “Of course you can.” 
Lucy made her way to the bar, she ordered the drinks then noticed the TV. The bar was playing the football, it was Chelsea vs Man City, a game she was hoping to watch. She took a seat at the bar, waiting for the cocktail to be made, but also wanting to get comfy as she watched on. 
Lucy had a few favourite things in this world, and watching football was one of them. Fucking Ona until she couldnt feel her legs no more was another. Playing football was another. Ona probably couldn't tell you in what order that went from top to bottom. 
It had been 10 minutes Ona looked towards the bar, wondering where her girlfriend was, she wasn't worried, they were still at the hotel. She knew when Lucy was in a good mood the girl could make friends with anyone, so she imagined she was maybe talking to a fan or something. Another 10 minutes and still nothing, that’s when Ona heard that very familiar roar of a bar that she realised why Lucy had not returned. Of course. 
“How's your head?” Ona looked up to see Sam the masseuse. With the way Sam was smiling at Ona, she couldn’t help but think Sam was trying to have a double meaning with that question. 
“A lot better thank you. I definitely feel more relaxed.” Ona smiled.
“Good, I’m glad to hear it, I've been told by many girls that my hands have relieved a lot of tension. My fingers know just where to hit those spots.” Sam’s smile was dangerous. 
She was coming on strong. Ona would normally politely turn down a girl who was flirting with her. But, Ona was annoyed with Lucy right now. They were meant to be on holiday, relaxing together, no phones, no screens, no interruptions. Ona also wouldn't have minded if she had watched it for 5 minutes and came back. But she had been gone for 30 minutes, Lucy had clearly got lost in the game.  
That's when Ona decided to make things interesting. She carried on speaking to Sam. She knew half time would have to be any minute now. And just like clock work, she did, just in perfect timing, she could see Lucy getting up from the bar. Putting her plan in motion. 
“Sam. Could you get my back, please. I can feel it getting red.” 
Sam couldn't have moved quick enough. She took the bottle of sun cream from Ona’s hand and began to rub her back. Ona even undid her bikini straps at her neck, making a show of it. And that show had finally caught the attention of green eyes. Lucy's green eyes. 
Ona closed her eyes and stretched her neck as Sam pressed her fingers deeply into her muscles. She could hear Lucy was close. So she moaned. She didn’t even have to put it on too much, as Sam did genuinely have magic fingers. Ona let out another groan, but this time it turned into a small whimper. 
Lucy wasn't a violent person, but she wanted nothing more than to rugby tackle Sam to the floor. She watched as her fingers slowly rubbed against Ona’s skin, she even made Ona arch as she hit spots that not even Lucy could hit, because she didn’t know what muscle even did that. As she got closer she even heard Ona moan, then she heard her whimper. That was the whimper that only Lucy made her do. Now here she was watching her girlfriend moan for another woman right in front of her.
“I didn’t realise the hotel offered massages outside the spa.” Lucy almost growled. 
“Oh, hey babe, Sam was passing by so I asked her to top up my cream.” Ona smiled.
Lucy knew that smile, she knew what Ona was doing. She continued.
“You were gone for a while. Did you get my drink?” Ona asked.
“Oh, yeah sorry. They’re playing the game, I just wanted to catch the last bit of it.” Lucy looked guilty. 
“Hmm. I see.” Ona nodded. 
“Here's your drink.” Lucy passed over Ona a warm, cocktail, even as she passed it she realised how stupid this looked. 
Sam decided to involve herself in the conversation. “Aye, that drink is no good. I can make a better cocktail than this. Give me 5 minutes, I’ll be right back.” 
Ona smiled widely up at Sam. “Oh thank you. You don’t have to do that.” 
Sam laughed, responding in their mother tongue, making Ona giggle.
Lucy had to hold her fists by her side. Her anger for Sam growing all the more. She sat down in her deck chair. Looking at the younger girl. “Sorry Ona. I was gone for too long. 
“You were.” She only confirmed. 
“I’m sorry. I know we said no screens, I just got carried away.” She grabbed Ona’s hand kissing the back of it, making Ona smile at her. 
“It's okay. You can make it up to me.” She smirked, not looking at Lucy.
Lucy was relieved to see Ona wasn't actually angry. She moved in close to her girlfriend, kissing her neck, she could taste the salt from her sweat, she sucked on her skin, relishing in the way Ona gasped. 
“I’d do anything to make you smile.”
Just like Sam promised she was back in 5 minutes, much to Lucy's dismay.. 
“Here you go, this my own personal cocktail. I call it ‘The big O.”  She winked.
Even though Sam was rude enough to flirt openly with Ona, she had also made a cocktail for Lucy. Ona sat up taking the glass from Sam.
“Ohh it looks amazing. Thank you Sam.” Ona smiled. She wrapped her lips around the pink straw and hummed. “Wow, that's really good. Try it Luce.” 
Lucy rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. She imagined Ona was just being polite, she took her own sip. Wow, yeah, no, that was good. It was maybe the best cocktail she had ever had. But Sam didn't need to know that.
“Bit sweet for me. Thank you though.” 
Sam smiled. “That's okay, everyone has a type, no? Anyways, enjoy the sun. Intenta no cremar, nena bonica.” She winked at Ona as she walked off.
Lucy was seething, she might not be an expert at the language but she knew enough to know she had just called Ona. 
“I don’t like her.” Lucy grunted.
Ona chuckled, she loved Lucy like this. “Oh stop. She's just doing her job.” 
Lucy folded her arms like a sulking toddler. Ona could only smile at her girlfriends cute, jealous antics as she drank the delicious cocktails.
The evening arrived, the girls rushed up to their rooms to get ready for another reservation Ona had made, it was only for dinner but it was a balcony view that you had to book in advance. If Ona knew how worked up the pair was going to be she would have just ordered room service. Lucy of course couldn't keep her hands off of the younger girl as she came out of the shower, slapping Ona’s arse cheeks as she walked past her. 
They arrived for their dinner reservation, and Ona was grateful she had the willpower to stop Lucy’s hand creeping into her underwear just before they left the hotel room. The view was breathtaking, it overlooked the sea and the other islands. The sun was halfway to setting, making the sky a beautiful pink and orange colour. The girls had their dinner, happy to be in one another's company. They had needed this, just them, nothing in their way. Even though they both had wanted to tear each other's clothes off every waking minute, this was something they needed. Catching up with certain bits of their lives that they hadn't been able to in a while. 
The girls finished their dinner and headed to the beach. The hotel had an event each night for the guests. Tonight was salsa dancing. Lucy and Ona sat at a table waiting for the entertainment. A pretty waitress came over to take their order.
“Hey, what can I get for you?” She looked at Lucy, a shy smile on her face.
“Hi, can I please get a beer. Ona?” Lucy looked over.
“A strawberry daiquiri please.” 
The waitress smiled at Lucy. “No, problem.” She walked off to get their drinks.
“Someones a fan.” Ona rolled her eyes.
“She’s just being friendly.” Lucy chuckled.
The girl returned with their orders. “Here you go Miss Bronze.” 
Lucy didn't stop the grin on her face. “Thank you.” 
“And your martini.” She handed Ona the drink.
“Oh erm, I didn't order this.” 
“No? Oh, I’m sorry. I must have gotten a bit flustered, I’m a really big fan.” She eyed Lucy up with absolutely no shame. “What was it you ordered?” 
Ona stared at the waitress. Her normally soft eyes turned angry.
“A strawberry daiquiri.” 
“That’s right, sorry. I'll grab that for you now.”
“Thank you. Don’t stress, we all make mistakes.” Lucy smiled. 
The waitress put her hand on Lucy's naked muscle. “Thank you.”
Ona rolled her eyes, seething in her seat. Out of the two Ona was definitely the more jealous one. 
This time it wasnt the waitress that came over, it was Sam, again. Did she not take a break?
“Hola, I saw the mix up. Sorry about that, I took the liberty of making my ‘Big O’ you look like you need it.”
“Sam! Thank you! I wanted to ask if they served it but you mentioned it was your own cocktail.” She sucked on her straw.
Lucy cleared her throat. “Do you work on every section or?”
Ona nudged Lucy under the table.
Sam chuckled. “I do work a lot of the hotel, si. I’m actually working in the entertainment tonight.”
“Of course you are.” Lucy muttered under her breath, Sam nor Ona heard her.
“So, Ona did you want to take up my offer for the message session?”
“What's this?” Lucy asked.
“Sam said I needed more work done to my upper thighs and lower back. She said I had a lot of tension there.”
“Si, I offered for her to have another treatment. Her body needs some extra attention in those areas. She's very tight. I could release her from that tension.” Sam smiled at Ona.
“I’ll definitely let you know. We have a few days planned.” Ona smiled, sipping on Sam's cocktail.
“Please do, it would be my pleasure.” Sam smirked as she walked away. 
Lucy could see the newspapers already. ‘Bronze turned boxer.’ or ‘Lucy Ali’ 
“She couldn't be any more obvious if she tried.” Lucy sneered.
Ona grabbed her hand, and kissed her knuckles. “It doesn't matter. It's you who I want. It's you who will be fucking me later. It's you who I love.”
Lucy couldn't hold back the shiver that kissed her skin. She leaned into Ona’s face, kissing the girl with a passion Ona hadn't felt in a while. Just as they pulled apart the lights dimmed, and the stage lit up. Music boomed in from the speakers, salsa dancers came onto the stage. 
The entertainment was amazing, the girls were enjoying themselves. The first show finished and the audience clapped for the dancers. 
It wasn't until a familiar face came on stage that Lucy felt her shoulders drop. Sam came on stage in traditional salsa wear. It was a very different sight for the uniform she wore before. She had a beautiful body, her curves sat in the black dress perfectly. The music began, her and the male partner danced the tango, it was undeniably one of the sexiest dancers two people could do. 
The dance came to an end, the crowd clapped loudly for Sam and her partner. They bowed and the male dancer walked off stage. 
“Thank you, now it is your turn. I need a partner. I'm going to pick two volunteers, and I don’t take no for an answer.” Sam’s eyes landed on the shorter brunette.
Lucy's stomach dropped.
Sam stepped down off the stage, she pointed at one man who stood up quickly, making his way on the stage. She didn't have to walk very far as she put her hand out for Ona to take.
Lucy could tell Ona wasn't sure what to do, her big brown doe eyes looked almost worried. Lucy didn't want that. Yes, she could be jealous and possessive but she wouldn't actually want Ona to feel like she couldn't do something because of her jealousy. That’s not how she wanted this relationship. 
Ona stared at her, needing some kind of confirmation, she wouldn’t do it if Lucy would genuinely be hurt. She saw the small smile and nod that Lucy gave her, giving her the green light. She took Sam’s hand, allowing her to be led to the stage. 
“Can I please have a round of applause for my volunteers. Please tell us your names.” 
“I’m Craig.” The guy smiled.
“I’m Ona.” 
Lucy did the loudest wolf whistle she could muster, causing Ona to giggle. 
“Okay, the challenge is to dance. Whoever can keep up with me wins. If you forget or falter you are out. The winner wins a bottle of champagne.” Sam said. 
Now, it doesn’t matter what the prize is. Ona and Lucy will want to win everytime, even if the prize is just to gloat. So, yeah, Lucy was going to cheer Ona on. Even if Sam was very obvious and wanted her girl. They needed to win. 
Sam went through some steps with the pair. Very basic at first, just a one, two step, dip kind of thing. Ona and Craig stayed on count. Lucy couldn’t help but watch as Ona’s hips made an easy step look so sexy. Sam gave them more steps, getting more technical and faster, the audience cheered as they kept up with her. 
“Well done, now we put it to the test. You will dance the steps. I will jump in with you, whoever can keep with me the longest, wins.” 
It would be impossible for either of them to keep up with her, she was a professional dancer, but that was probably the point. Sam pointed to the guy to go first. The music started and he began to dance, he kept up with the basic steps. The crowd cheered him on, he wasn't too bad. Sam then stepped closer taking his hands to dance with him. As soon as she made it faster he messed up. 
The audience clapped for his efforts. Sam strode up to Ona. The music started to play again and Ona did the steps. Lucy knew Ona could dance, she always looked so easy and free when she did, her body could move like a snake. So, she looked very natural with these steps. Sam then took Onas hands and began to dance with her, Lucy noticed Sam's hand placements straight away, one on her hip verging on her arse, the other clasped with her hand.
She made the steps quicker but Ona kept up easily, Sam pushed herself closer to the shorter girl, looking down at her. The girl was taller than Lucy, so Ona looked even tinier next to her. 
Sam smirked down at Ona, realising she could actually dance. She began to twirl Ona’s smaller body, bringing her back into her chest, faces inches from her own. If Lucy didn't hate Sam she would have thought it was actually quite sexy. Ona and Sam were wearing very samilair dresses, making the dance even more in sync. Sam spun Ona again and dipped her backwards. Ona must have hid this talent from Lucy because she was keeping up with Sam no problem, she looked like a professional dancer. Her face was as focused as it was on a football pitch. 
Sam brought her to her body again, Ona’s thigh slipped between Sams as they danced closely, Sam's hands slipped into Ona’s hair and made a circular motion. Ona’s eyes closed as she was moved around easily. Okay, yeah, Lucy was horny, and jealous?
Sam twirled the petite girl once more and brought Ona’s back to her chest. She brought her face close to Ona’s neck, her lips barely just touching Ona’s skin, then twirled her again. She began to slowly dip Ona backwards, her hand gliding up the girl's thigh, revealing her muscular leg. She pushed her thigh high, against her own body, it looked so sexual, it almost felt like you were interrupting something. Her face came close to Ona’s lips then, down her neck, then down her chest. 
Lucy was feeling many different feelings right now, and horny was the biggest one, but she was also so proud of Ona. She didn’t know the girl could dance like that. The music ended and Sam slowly brought Ona back up to her feet, both smiling and out of breath. 
The hotel guest jumped to their feet and cheered, including Lucy. Ona looked straight at her girlfriend, happy to see her smiling. 
Sam lifted Ona’s hand and bowled, she then took a step back to let Ona have the moment. Lucy looked at her girlfriend, she was slightly out of breath, her face was flushed, her once neat hair tousled. Lucy needed her. 
Sam whispered something in Ona’s ear but that girl was paying her no attention, she could feel the way Lucy was looking at her. In this very moment it was just her and Lucy, her green eyes were undressing her body. 
Sam brought over the cold champagne. “Ona, everybody!” The crowd clapped once more. Ona thanked Sam while taking her prize. She made quick steps towards Lucy. 
“Room. Now” 
That's all Ona needed to say and Lucy was up.
Ona gasped as her back hit the wall of their hotel room. Lucy’s mouth was all over her neck. Her tongue sucked, and licked at her bare skin. She was leaving marks. Ona could tell. She couldn't stop her even if she wanted to. Lucy was lost in a haze, biting and sucking her skin in between her lips. She wanted to mark the girl. Make a point that she was hers. No one else's. 
“Fuck, Luce.” Ona struggled to see straight. 
“You liked it didn't you? All day. Making me jealous? Hmm?” Lucy asked. 
Ona smirked. “Sí, I did.” 
Lucy hummed. “I guess I’ll have to remind you who you belong to.” She gave Ona a particularly sharp bite to the neck. Making the girl cry out. 
She grabbed the shorter brunette by the waist, her lips attached to hers. She kissed Ona deeply, almost roughly. She cradled the back of her head as she moved them to the foot of the bed. Ona moaned at the sheer strength of Lucy's tongue, pushing its way into her mouth, taking full control of the kiss. She pulled back.
“Strip. Get on the bed.” Lucy commanded. 
Ona nodded, striping herself of her clothes. 
The older brunette made her way to their suitcase, looking for her strap. Lucy removed her clothes, leaving her completely naked. She pulled the harness up her strong thighs, adjusting the thick strap between her legs. She heard a small gasp behind her. She turned around to see Ona on her back, her head on the pillows with her hand between her legs. Lucy smirked, she loved watching Ona pleasure herself, she would watch her all day if she could, but she would always end up replacing Ona’s hand with her own, or her mouth. 
She slowly walked over to the bed, Ona’s fingers were glistening with her juices, her eyes closed tightly as she circled her sensitive clit. Lucy watched as her girlfriend started to lose herself in her own pleasure, her small whimpers and whines making Lucy lose her calm resolve. She wanted to be inside her. She kneeled on the bed and slowly crawled to the petite women, trying not to make too much movement. She was like a moth to the flame, mesmerised by Ona, she couldn't take her eyes away from her glistening lips, her own mouth watering at the sight in front of her. 
The taller brunette brought her lips to Ona’s thigh, kissing the sensitive flesh. Ona smiled, feeling her girlfriends lips on her, she opened her eyes watching Lucy crawl closer to her.
“Kiss me.” Ona whispered. 
Lucy moved higher up Ona’s thighs, closer to her sex, Lucy could smell how wet Ona was, the buds on her tongue watering at the thought of tasting her. She couldn't wait any longer, she would normally tease Ona a lot more, kiss her all over her petite body, make her beg for her, but she had waited too long. She dipped her head to Ona’s core, causing Ona to move her hand away. She took one long lick up her folds onto the sensitive bud. 
“No, Luce kiss me, please.” 
Lucy lifted her head up, Ona was looking down at her, pleading for her. She could never deny Ona anything, especially like this. She crawled up to the shorter brunette, her body was so small under hers. She made sure to let the dick rub against Ona’s body as she moved, reminding her exactly what she was going to do to her. Reminding her exactly who Ona belonged to.
Ona squirmed as she felt the thick rubber press against her. She grabbed Lucy's face and brought their lips together. Ona tried to take control but Lucy didn't allow it, she roughly pushed her tongue into Ona’s making her gasp. The older brunette was losing patience, and Ona could tell. Her strong hips started to move against Ona’s body, she wanted to fuck her, she wanted to here Ona scream her name.
But so did Ona. She wasn't the only one who got riled up by jealousy tonight. Yeah, Lucy maybe had to endure it a lot more, but Ona also knew Lucy was about to wreck her. And she knew she could go for hours if she wanted to. And Ona needed to come now, not in a couple of hours, while Lucy made her beg. The petite girl wrapped her leg around Lucy's body and easily flipped them. Lucy was on her back with Ona on top, smiling down proudly at her own strength.
“You’re so easy Luce.” The shorter brunette whispered into her ear, making Lucy shiver.
“I’m going to ride your face until I’m satisfied, then you can do what you want with me. Does that sound good, baby?”
Lucy nodded quickly. This was the Ona people didn't get to see, (for obvious reasons.) The sweet doe eye Spaniard could be just as dominating as the brunette beneath her. Maybe even more.
She quickly crawled up Lucy's body, ready to take what she wanted from her. She planted her thighs next to Lucy's head and lowered her wet pussy onto Lucy's hot mouth. 
“Fuck.” Ona’s eyes closed as she dropped her head back. As soon as she felt Lucy's soft mouth on her painfully throbbing clit she couldn't wait. She moved her hips into Lucy's mouth, she snaked her fingers into the dark roots of Lucy's hair, and grinded her hips. Lucy wrapped her hands around Ona's hips, helping her guide her movements. She lapped at Ona’s cunt, her thick juices covered her tongue, the girl was wet. Lucy swallowed the mouthful of fluids, moaning as she felt the wetness glide down her throat.  
Ona had one hand in Lucy's hair the other on the head board, giving her full control in how she moved her body against Lucy's skillful tongue. She was dominating the situation, and Lucy was happy enough to be used for Ona’s pleasure. She loved when Ona took charge, the dominant energy in her would switch off so easily, and allow the normally softer lover to take what she wanted. 
Lucy wrapped her lips around Ona’s soft bundle of nerves, making the girl groan loudly, her hips becoming more rough. She knew Lucy could take it. She could feel the swell in her stomach grow. She grabbed Lucy's head with both hands and began to fuck her face, she could hear how wet she was as Lucy slurped on her velvety folds. 
“Hmm, Lucy, your mouth. Are you swallowing?” 
Lucy hummed. Ona had a kink for Lucy swallowing her essence, she loved to hear the girl's throat drinking her down. Especially when she came, she would hold Lucy's head down to make sure she cleaned and swallowed every bit of her up. Not letting her move until she was happy. 
Ona felt the tickling vibration from Lucy's mouth. She smiled down at the girl as she fucked her face. “Good girl. Make sure you swallow when I come.”
Lucy hummed again. Sending sweet vibrations into the petite girl. “Fuck, Lucy, Just like that, Dont stop.”
Ona grinded her hips deep into Lucy's mouth. Her thighs started to shake. The grip in Lucy's hair was almost painful. She let out a cry as she felt Lucy suck perfectly on her clit. She came hard against the girl's tongue. Lucy groaned as she felt Onas wetness slowly drip into her mouth. Swallowing it as loudly as she could. Ona slowed her movements, trying to catch her breath. She looked down at her beautiful girlfriend, licking and cleaning her up. She gently stroked Lucy's hair back. 
“You’re so good. So good.” 
Lucy hummed as she continued licking and swallowing, catching every drop she could. Ona didn't move, she stayed on Lucy's face, enjoying the feeling of her tongue stroking her sensitive folds. They stayed like this for a while, until Ona decided she wanted more. She began to move her hips again, gently this time. Allowing Lucy to move at the pace she wanted. 
Lucy looked up at Ona, she watched as her girlfriend's body gently rocked against her mouth. She looked breathtaking. Her long brown chestnut hair dripped down her chest and back, her eyes were closed as she was lost in the pleasure of Lucy's mouth. She began to make small whimpers as she approached her second orgasm. She came again, crying as she flung her head back in pleasure. Lucy swallowed and suckled just the way the Spaniard liked. Ona gasped as Lucy caressed her with her tongue, finally not able to take anymore, she lifted herself off the older girl and dropped on the bed beside her.
“Your mouth’s amazing.” Ona breathed out. 
Lucy chuckled, she sat up looking at Ona’s body next to her, she could see the bruises forming on her neck from her earlier assault. Her cunt was aching looking at her.
Lucy wasn't a rough lover, she definitely liked to take control and be in charge but she wasnt rough. But with all the emotions of jealousy running through her, seeing Sam's hands all over her girlfriend's body woke something up in her. She moved to the end of the bed, she leaned forward and grabbed Ona by her waist, easily moving the girl. Ona yelped.
“On your knees.”
Ona looked shocked by the sudden change in Lucy's mood. She dropped to her knees in front of Lucy. Ona saw the huge appendage between Lucy's legs, it was their biggest toy, Ona enjoyed using it now and again but a lot of the time Lucy had to go slow. So it wasn't their most used item.
Ona didn’t feel as cocky as she did before, staring down Lucy’s huge strap.
“Open.” 
Ona nodded her head, she opened her mouth and took in the tip of the dick. Lucy's hands snaked into her lose her, guiding her head down the dick. She stopped before she got half way, the girth of the toy was already stretching out her lips.
“That’s it baby.” Lucy started to move her hips forward, pushing Ona’s head back against the mattress. Ona’s hands were on the older brunette's thighs. Lucy removed her hands and pushed them above her head, onto the mattress. Making her press deeper into Ona’s mouth. The spaniard gagged as Lucy began to slowly fuck her face against the bed. 
“You look so good Ona, you're taking it so well. Don’t stop baby.” 
Ona felt the thick plastic slide its way down her throat. Ona could tell Lucy was definitely about to take out some pent up anger on her throat. And that was exactly what the Spaniard wanted, she knew she pushed Lucy today. 
Lucy’s hip started to pick up pace, she held Ona’s wrist in one hand the other gripping at her head. Ona moaned at the new speed, she could feel herself dripping, being used like this from Lucy was a rarity, Lucy looked down at Ona, her doe like eyes were prickling with tears. Her lips sliding up and down the appendage. 
“You drive me crazy Ona.” Lucy pushed deeper. 
Ona’s head was basically trapped between Lucy and the mattress, she could feel her breathing getting more difficult as the dick took up most of the space in her throat, restricting her of air. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, she started to choke around Lucy's dick. Lucy pulled back, Ona gasped as air hit her lungs again. Her spit was attached to the tip of the strap. Lucy smiled down at her. 
“Take some more.” Lucy pushed her dick back to Ona’s swollen lips. 
Ona opened her mouth, ready for what Lucy would want to give her. 
“So, you enjoy making me jealous?” Lucy snapped.
Ona’s eyes squeezed shut as Lucy pushed herself deeper into her mouth. 
“You liked making me angry? Liked flirting with your little girlfriend?”
Ona moaned, angry Lucy was a sexy Lucy. Spit started to dribble from her mouth at Lucy's pace.
“Look at you, you love it don't you, Ona? You love being a little brat.” 
Lucy finally slid the whole strap down Ona’s throat, pushing the base perfectly against her clit. She rocked her hips into Ona’s face, thoroughly face fucking the girl. Ona began to choke on the thick plastic, tears rolled down her face.
Lucy pulled out of Ona’s mouth, not wanting to actually hurt the girl. Ona coughed and sputtered as she was able to breathe again. Lucy grabbed Ona by her arms and threw her on the bed like she was nothing, another thing Ona went wild for, Lucy's strength, the girl could carry her around like she was nothing, and when she was angry, like she was now, it would always came into play.
Lucy didn't wait around, she sunk two fingers into Ona’s core. The girl gasped at the new intrusion between her legs, Lucy couldn't help but smile at the beautiful noise that escaped Ona’s mouth. 
“So tight Ona, you need to open up for me.” Lucy purred in the girl's ear.
“Fuck, Luce.” Ona groaned, Lucy picked up the pace quickly, the obscene noise that came between Ona’s legs was pornagraphic. She was so wet from Lucy fucking her face, and Lucy knew it. Ona loved rough sex, Lucy did too, but she was always the one to make sure Ona was okay with everything they did. They had their colours, they knew the limits, and Lucy knew Ona would stop her if she ever needed to, the same went for Lucy.
Lucy removed her fingers from Ona and rubbed her wetness over the strap, covering the dick in Ona’s natural lube. The girl had a lot of it. She lined herself up, looking down at Ona’s pussy. 
“You ready baby?”
“Please Lucy, I need you.” 
Lucy pushed the head off the very girthy dick into Ona’s dripping cunt. She would normally let Ona get used to the thickness but today she didn't have the composure. She pushed her hips until she bottomed out into Ona, causing the girl to whimper with each inch that pushed past her tight walls. 
“Fuck Ona.” Lucy knew she couldn't actually feel it, but the noises Ona made alone drove her crazy. She started to grind her hips into Ona, the shorter girl whimpered in her ears as she took what Luct gave her.
“L-Lu- cy!” Ona groaned out as she felt Lucy speed up, the pain quickly turned into pleasure as her pusy swallowed her. 
“You’re mine, Ona.”  Lucy grunted.
“Si. Si. Yours.”
“Don’t ever forget that.” Lucy started to suck on Ona’s skin. Making more marks. 
Ona couldn't talk, the pace of Lucy's hips was unforgiving. Lucy was lost in her own world, fucking the girl beneath her. She grabbed Onas leg and lifted it over her shoulder, pushing herself ever deeper into the petite girl. She groaned at the tightness of the girl. Ona groaned deeply, swearing and muttering between English and Catalan. Lucy was working her body hard, all that pent up anger being used on her body, it only made Ona more wet, building up another orgasm.
Lucy could feel the base of the strap hitting her perfectly. 
“You’re taking it so well baby. You didn't even make me go slow, you’re so good. So good for me.” 
Lucy's words pushed Ona further to her climax. Her body was sweating underneath Lucys, the girl's stamina was a curse and a blessing.
“I’m going to come Lucy.” 
“No, just a little more baby. Wait for me, just a little more.” 
Ona gritted her teeth as Lucy used her body to chase her climax, her own knot in her stomach was stepping dangerously close to the edge. She knew if she came Lucy wouldn't stop, and she didn't think she could take that kind of work on her body right now. So she tried her best to hold on. 
Lucy's hips moved a fraction deeper inside the Spaniard, getting herself closer to her end goal. But it only made it harder for Ona. 
“L-L.” 
“Shhh baby.” Lucy brought her hand up to stroke Ona’s sweaty head. “You can take it. Just a little more. Give me a little more.” She grunted, closing her eyes, as her clit started to throb. She looked down at the beautiful girl below. Her big brown eyes looked up at Lucy, there was so much love in those eyes, so much trust. Pushing Lucy closer.
Ona sucked in her breath, she closed her eyes, her head was throbbing from the pressure of it all. Until she heard that unmistakable groan from the girl above. 
“Fuck, I’m coming.” 
Lucys hips pushed deeper into Ona, the girl let out a high pitched cry as she was finally allowed to come. Lucy let out a deep groan, her hips never stopping, until her body reached that perfect release, pushing the girl deeper into the mattress. 
“Fuck.” Lucy panted into Ona’s sweaty neck. She gently pulled out of the younger girl, flopping beside her.
“You okay?” Lucy looked over at Ona.
Ona smiled. “So good.” 
The girls caught their breath. Lucy slipped off the harness. Ona rolled over to her girlfriend, and began to kiss her neck, sucking and biting her sweaty skin. Lucy gathered Ona’s hair in one hand and guided her down her stomach. 
“Give me your mouth baby.” 
Ona happily did what she was told, and made her way down Lucy's body, kissing her abs on the way down. She slowly kissed her hips, then slowly made her way down to the crease of Lucys lips. But she didn't touch her where she needed her. She slowly kissed over her wet lips instead, and began to kiss her thighs. She knew Lucy didn't have the patience for her teasing. The older brunette grabbed her chin.
“Keep teasing me, and I’ll fuck you over that balcony and let your little girlfriend see how loud you can be.” 
Ona chuckled. “I love you.” She smirked.
Lucy groaned. This girl was such a fucking tease. She smiled and stroked Ona’s face lovingly. “I love you baby. Now let me come in that pretty mouth.”
Ona wrapped her lips around Lucy's swollen clit. Lucy hissed at the first touch, she wasn't going to last long at all. Ona moaned as her girlfriend's arousal soaked her tongue, she began to suckle on the bundle of nerves just the way she knew Lucy loved. The older brunette, entangled her fingers into Ona’s long hair and started to fuck her face. Ona moaned at the grip on her hair as Lucy used her body once more to get off. 
“Just like that. You look so beautiful like this.” 
Ona moaned at Lucy's words. The girl grinded her hips into her mouth as Ona’s tongue hit her clit over and over again. 
“I’m coming. Don’t stop.” She pulled Ona closer into her core, keeping the girl where she needed her. Ona felt Lucy’s juices cover her tongue, she groaned at the amount of sheer wetness that flowed into her mouth. 
“Onaaa.” Lucy looked down at the girl, her tongue lapped up at her soaking cunt. 
She let Ona stay there for a little while, until it got too much. She moved her head away, laughing at Ona’s pout when the girl didnt want to move. Ona laid next to Lucy kissing her neck and snuggling next to her girlfriend.
“Best holiday ever.” Ona whispered.
“Hmm and it's only the first day.”
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jessamine-rose · 12 hours
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/vent/
#i’ll delete this later on#yeahh i’m sorry if i’ve been extra venty this part year. it’s just….yeHhh irl has been kicking my ass#at this point. this is what?? my third monthly vent in a row?? ughhhh#but yeahh anyway. guess who is tired and frustrated as hell?? MEEEEEEEEEEE#idk i’ve just been super overwhelmed even before the start of april#and with the semester wnding *sigh* it’s just been hard#it reached the point where many times. i questioned if i could finish this semester at all#i’m down to three reqs now. it should be a good thing yet it feels nothing like one#especially when i’m still figuring out how to finish all three on time#idk i guess my frustratikn is more rooted in the fact that this past month. i haven’t been able to keep up with my internal deadljnes#it’s just so hard to open my laptop and get work done. idk why i keep doing this to myself but again and again. i find myself idling in the#daytime then sleeping late so i can finish the requirement and claim i’ve done smth productive today#nvm that i’ve lost at least five days to being useless and unproductive. i’d love to call it a mental break but it’s always been hard for m#whose great idea was it for non-major subjects to give so many requirements anyway??#this week. i marked ‘monday’ as the day i’d finish my third-to-last requirement. yet here i am now. only 1/3 progress made and pushing the#internal deadline to tomorrow. knowing i can’t push it any further bc i still need time for my last deadlines#i’ve been sick the past weeks. mainly with cold and fatigue and the occasional chest pain. but i’ve only been able to minimally address it#and now it looks like i’m dehydrated. if today’s cold and sore throat and crippling unwell-ness are anything to go by#ughh what else?? a relative died today. i’m not that close to her tbh but it still shocks me. but more intense was my dread when i realized#i’d have to attend her funeral which is on/ before my deadline. sure the visit might be short but will it. rlly?? what about the time spent#processing her death?? the emotions that could follow me back to my desk??#*sigh* idk where i’m going with this anymore. it feels like these days all i can do is complain and blame myself#and it makes me guilty every time i set aside time for myself. it makes me paranoid that i’m bothering my friends and mutuals too much with#personal vents#but at this point. all i can do is continue right?? compartmentalize. submit the fcking paper and stop being a perfectionist at the worst o#times. then after all that. get the rest i need#it looks easier on text. that’s all i can say#what else?? at the end of the day. i giess i just want to say thank you to my mutuals for being here. for giving me all those little moment#of joy. thanks for your comfort. and when this sem ends and i’ve rested enough. i hope i can go back to my usual brainrots. i miss that#UPDATE:: i managed to finish my rough draft of the paper. i can’t exactly call it one but at least it counts as 1/2 progress done
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satoruhour · 8 months
Note
geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt
OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD
a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers
wc: 2.9k
warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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geto was a sweet roommate.
he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.
even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.
it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.
the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,
“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”
shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”
gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.
“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”
suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.
today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.
“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.
there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.
“(y/n)? love? you okay?”
“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”
“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”
geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.
“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”
geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.
“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.
geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.
what would it be like to actually wear it?
the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.
peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.
“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.
you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.
you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?
the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”
setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.
“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.
your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.
oh, shit.
and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.
fuck, did i say that out loud?
you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.
“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.
“yea— yeah…”
geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.
suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”
your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.
“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”
your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.
“yeah?”
you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.
“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.
“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.
“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.
geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.
“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.
“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.
“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.
you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”
“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”
you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”
your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”
he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.
geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.
“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 
“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.
“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.
“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”
you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.
once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”
you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.
he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.
you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—
as his roommate and maybe now, something more.
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part two ♡
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p3terparker · 11 months
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𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)
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“please hold me” 
it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.
“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.
“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.
adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.
you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.
“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”
“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”
“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.
“how did you–”
“i’m spider-man, baby”
“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.
“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”
“very. now come lay back down”
you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.
“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”
“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.
“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”
“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”
“okay fine, i’m done”
“nooo, i didn��t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.
“you are truly such a big baby”
“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”
how could you deny him?
“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 
“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.
“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.
you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.
“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 
“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.
you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.
you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.
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tired-biscuit · 2 months
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i want to ride yuuji so bad and then start crying cause he’s so thick and big and then have his strong arms wrap around me and then he starts thrusting up and we’re both drooling and moaning that would be a dream
18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: good girl, good girl, GOOD GIRL!
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he’s cooing at you while caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears away, and it’s all so goddamn sweet that it outright hurts; in a good way, though.
always in a good way when it’s with him.
especially because he does it so effortlessly? being kind is like second nature to someone like yuuji and it’s hard not to melt into a puddle of gooey emotions and spill even more tears when he’s looking up at you with hearts in his warm honey-coloured eyes and there’s this prominently lovestruck look on his face that makes him look even dumber than he already is.
but he’s also cute, awfully so. his hair is an absolute mess, his lips are in the colour of dark pink from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed, and his skin burns so hot that he’s sweating like crazy underneath the thick hoodie that he’s still got on. you’ve been in such a rush to get him inside you that you’re both still completely dressed, aside from the bits of clothing that have been tugged down and pushed to the side in order to make the entire thing easier for you, of course.
however, having all these layers on is simply excruciating. the heat makes him pant and causes his chest to heave in a faster rhythm than normal; and all those breaths make it somewhat hard to get all the praise that he feels for you out of his system.
but yuuji is no quitter. so he swallows the runny saliva that keeps on gathering in his mouth between sentences and threatens to spill past the corner of his lips. it’s audible and it makes his adam’s apple bob in his throat, and yet he still manages to thank you in hushed, trembling whispers and broken grunts and moans.
he thanks you for being such a good girlfriend; for being so willing to give it a chance when it comes to riding him and taking him in all the way, despite the fact that it’s only been a couple of days since he’s taken your virginity and your most sensitive parts are still sore and tender from all the gentle pounding — but pounding nevertheless — he had done after getting his first taste.
you feel heat sear your face as you listen to the jumble of gratitude he’s putting before you and look at him from underneath your lashes, trying to not pay mind how tears still cling to them as stubbornly as ever.
this entire thing has not gone the way you’ve imagined it to go at all and it’s frustrating as hell. and how couldn’t it be? i mean, you’ve known how big he is, have known how it feels to have him inside you, but jesus fucking christ, this position is nowhere as easy as missionary had been — and even then you’d struggled a great deal.
because now, you’re the one who has to do all the work while he sits there, looking pretty, sometimes eyeing how your arousal glistens on his pubic hair, even though your clit hasn’t come anywhere near to kissing the spot from how much of a hard time you’re having when it comes to sitting on his dick entirely.
if only you could just—
“hey,” he says the word with such care as he cups your cheek that it sends butterflies twirling in your belly. his hand is just so big, it urges you to pet yourself against it like a little kitty. “you okay?” yet another look that’s brimming with concern is thrown your way. “we don’t have to do this if it’s too much, you know… just tell me.”
“did you really mean all that?” you mumble the exact moment his hands reach for your hips, clearly aiming to manhandle you into a position that you’d be able to endure a bit better.
“mean what?” he asks, glancing downwards just for a second as your hands stop his own. his cock twitches in response — he’s always been such a sucker for hand holding and this time is no exception. when your fingers intertwine, his heart sings in answer.
“that i’m a good girl?” the eye contact that you initiate in return is determined instead of anxious all of a sudden and it makes his pupils visibly dilate right in front of you.
it seems like you’re no quitter either.
“‘course i did,” yuuji replies in a heartbeat, cherishing how you squeeze around him whenever he gives you his approval, his praise. “you’re such a good girl, my good girl, the goodest girl to ever walk the good girl planet... they should make you mayor of goodie town.”
you giggle at that and his smile quivers with pleasure from how it makes your pussy tighten even more. he’s doing everything he can not to grab you, press you against his chest and just follow instinct and start slamming away.
maybe next time… maybe you’ll be ready for it next time.
“you’re so silly,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, though this time on the forehead. his skin tastes salty, and while it may be wrong, knowing that you’re not the only one that’s having a hard time right now makes you feel just a little bit calmer.
unbeknownst to you, the fact that you’re more relaxed allows you to take yet another inch of him inside you. your muscles slacken and his fat cockhead drags against your walls as a result, slipping and pushing in, in, in. the ring of cloudy white slick forms just a little below the lower half of his cock now, stretching you further and making your tummy feel hot and tingly.
it’s definitely progress.
and it makes poor yuuji moan straight into your mouth.
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skzdarlings · 2 months
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the demonstration ; skz ; jeongin x reader
requested by anonymous: you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ w Jeongin? 😩 please 🥰. requested by anonymous: I.N AND ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜ ❛ you taste like heaven. ❜ PLEASE IF YOU CAN BEGGING YOU
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pairing: yang jeongin/reader content info: friends to lovers. reader asks jeongin if he has ever made someone squirt and if so please show her hehe. reader mentions a bad date with a rude guy who called her high-strung. squirting, pussy-eating, riding, just a good time lol. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.
masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy <3
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Jeongin is finally awake when you return to his apartment.  You visited this morning but he must have had a late night because the flat was dark and silent when you let yourself in. You went for a stroll, hoping the fresh air would clear your mind, but what you really needed was him.  A conversation with Jeongin always improves your mood.  Just thinking about those deep dimples brings out your own smile.  
“Hi there,” you say sweetly.  You close the door and replace your shoes with the slippers he keeps for you.  You bound up to the kitchen counter.  “Can I ask you something?”  
Jeongin clearly just rolled out of bed.  Far from glamourous, your nonetheless very handsome friend is wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and his black thick-rimmed glasses.  He has the hood pulled over his head, his dishevelled black hair peeking out.  A bowl of ramen sits in front of him, though his sleepy gaze is on his phone, long ringed fingers curled around the device. 
You look at those fingers thoughtfully, your mouth a little drier than before.  Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all…
It’s too late.  Jeongin emerges from the slumped cavern of his hoodie, lifting his bespectacled face.  He dutifully puts his phone facedown on the counter.   Pushing his sleeves to his elbows, he says, “Of course.  Hi.  How are—”  He yawns before he can finish.  The yawn breaks into a wheezy little laugh.   
You take the seat across from him at the kitchen island and watch him twirl his chopsticks.  Nimble fingers flip them around before he digs into his noodles, slurping a little ungracefully.  He swallows almost half the bowl in a scoop.  Your eyes are still on his hands.   
“Jeongin,” you say.  “Have you ever—oh, no, thank you.” 
He is holding out a clump of noodles on his chopsticks.  When you decline, he shoves it in his own mouth. 
“Jeongin,” you say again.  “Have you ever made a girl squirt?”
He chokes on the noodles.  It gets ugly quick.  You emit a little squeak of your own when he thumps on his chest so hard that his hood falls back and his glasses fall off.  He hacks up the noodles and spits some across the island. 
“Are you okay?” you ask.     
“I’m fine,” he says in a rough voice, squinting hard like a beleaguered puppy.  He fumbles with his glasses, blinking quickly once they are back on his face.   Then he reaches for his water bottle and unscrews it with a flick of his fingers.  He rubs his chest while drinking.
You purse your lips, watching him.  His profile is so defined, his jaw so sharp and cheekbones high.  He really is ridiculously handsome.  And those hands.  You look at the prominence of the veins running down his forearm, the subtle strength in his slender form, the long easy grace of his fingers.  If any man is turning women into waterfalls, it must be him.
“So,” you say, “have you ever done it?”
He chokes on his water, but not as dramatically as the noodles.  It’s a messy hiccup and he dribbles water down his chin, barely catching it in the cup of his hand.  He puts the bottle aside and wipes his hand on his thigh. 
“I don’t think I understand the question,” he finally says. 
“What? ‘Have you ever made a girl squirt?’” you ask, tipping your head.  “Sorry, what’s confusing?”
“Um.”  He looks at you in bewilderment.  “The part where you are asking me it?” 
“Oh.”  A little – okay, a lot of embarrassed heat explodes in your chest.  It radiates out with rapid-fire speed, scalding your neck and your face. 
You lower your gaze.  His dark eyes and expressive brows are now too intense for you.  You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, thumbs pushing at each other. 
“Well,” you say, slowly.  You look anywhere but him. “Something sort of happened.”
When you chance an upward glance, he is looking at you very studiously.   
“Sort of…” he says, looking more confused by the second.  “Did you… sort of… squirt?”
You cover your face, suddenly embarrassed beyond words.  Why did this seem like a good idea again?  You were so convinced a few minutes ago that this was a totally fine conversation to have with your friend.  Now you want the floor to open up and swallow you whole. 
You make a miserable little sound into your palms and Jeongin finally laughs.  His whole face crinkles with delight and he laughs so hard that it sounds like he can barely breathe.
“Don’t laugh at me!” you wail. 
“I’m not, I’m not,” he lies, because he is laughing his ass off while he says it.  “Come on, it’s fine.  Stop hiding.” 
He reaches across the counter for you.  You jerk away, mewling pathetically, which just makes him laugh again.  He eventually uses both hands to peel apart your death grip.  You still avoid his gaze, staring down at the counter, but he dips his head to chase your eyes. 
“There you are,” he says when your gazes meet.  “Crazy girl!  Ask me again.” 
“I forgot the question,” you say, petulant.
He snorts.  “I didn’t,” he says.  “You wanted to know if I ever made a woman—”
“Yes, I know what I asked!” you say, shaking your head.  You see him smile, a giant grin of immense amusement as you tug at your cheeks in distress.  “I’m sorry I asked.  It’s just that…”
“Something sort of happened?” he supplies when you trail off. 
“Technically,” you say, “something sort of didn’t happen.” 
“Ohhh.”  He returns to looking bashful, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Were you… with… someone?”
“Mhm.”  You both look at the kitchen counter while you speak.  “I had a date.  I planned the whole thing out.  You know me, I like a plan.”  You try to laugh but a flood of humiliation washes over you, the recollection of last night and how everything went so, so wrong.  You close your eyes and sigh.  “Ugh.  It was going well so I brought him back to my place.  Things got heated.  He said he was really good at… doing that… I said I had never done it before and he got excited and said I would like it.  I think I just… thought about it too much.  You know me!  I like a plan!  That wasn’t the plan!  Anyway, we put a towel on the bed which is why it was even more embarrassing when I couldn’t… when he couldn’t make me… ugh.”  You flop forward, pressing your forehead to the cold marble countertop.  “He called me high-strung and left.” 
You lift your head slowly, looking at Jeongin for his reaction.  His expression is all scrunched up like he smells something bad.  Then he gestures as if he is vomiting, making the noisy hurling sounds to match. 
You laugh in spite of yourself, nodding.
“I know, I know, you’re right,” you say.  “He sucked.” 
“High-strung?” Jeongin says, the word tumbling out like a curse.  “He said that?  Pffft—” 
You are glad you came to him.  Your other friends would have been protective and encouraging, which is nice, but Jeongin’s helpless laughter is more reassuring than anything.  That other guy was so pathetic that all Jeongin can do is laugh. 
Even so, you do feel a little sensitive about the whole thing.  You are smiling now but your gaze stays low.  You trace circles on the counter. 
“I know he… he was just embarrassed too.  He was rude to me, but… he wasn’t totally wrong.”
“No,” Jeongin says, shaking his head.  “No, no, no—”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you insist.  You let him take your hands and squeeze, but you talk before he can interrupt.  “Look he didn’t exactly handle it well but I… I am a little… um, overly thoughtful at times.  I’m not good at doing things in the spur of the moment.  It scares me and I think too much and once I start thinking I can’t stop.”  You let go of his hands, giving them one last friendly pat before you neatly fold your hands on the counter.  “Anyway, I asked you what I did because I was hoping you could instruct me so I can practice.  That way next time it happens, I won’t get scared and think so much.”
You smile at him. 
He slowly takes his glasses off, his mouth open. 
“Oh,” he says.  “Okay.  Um.” 
“Soooo… have you?” 
The tips of his ears turn a vibrant red and he puts his reading glasses aside.  He takes a second to rub his eyes with an incredible amount of vigour.  You wait patiently and politely, watching him tug down the sleeves of his hoodie then push them back up.  Those long fingers swipe through his hair once, twice.  Finally, he crosses his arms and nods sharply. 
“Yes,” he says.  “I have.” 
Oh.
The subject of your abstract thought suddenly becomes a tangible reality.  You cannot get the unbidden mental image out of your head: Jeongin, knuckle-deep in the very wet, very soft heat of someone lucky, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of them.  It is unexpectedly easy to imagine yourself in their place, his dark head between your thighs and his steady arm at work. 
You cross your legs.  He notices. 
“Would you mind showing me?” you ask. 
“Showing you?” he repeats, his thick eyebrows high on his face.  “Showing you?” 
“Yes,” you say.  You are so preoccupied with your mental image that it takes a moment to realize your phrasing might be misconstrued.  “Not like that!” 
He jumps in surprise. 
“Oh my god.”  You put your hands over your face again.  “I meant… abstractly.  Draw it.  Or tell me.  I didn’t mean—oh my goodness.”
His ears are still red but Jeongin dissolves into giggles again.   Your mortification works wonders on his dimples. 
“I’m not very good at drawing,” he teases, patting you on the head. 
“Oh my goodness,” is all you manage. 
His laughter is infectious, overpowering your embarrassment until you are giggling with him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say when the laughter finally slows.  You smile, chagrined and apologetic.  “It was a stupid question in the first place.  I’m really embarrassed.” 
“No, don’t be,” he says, waving his hand.  “You can tell me anything.  I was just… surprised.”
“Yeah, so was he,” you say, making both of you laugh again. 
When the laughter subsides a second time, Jeongin sighs.  He puts his discarded glasses back on, blinking his vision into his focus and smiling at you.  After the last few minutes of conversation, that smiles gives you butterflies.  You touch a hand to your stomach as if to still them, but they flutter away. 
“I have an idea,” he says, holding out his hand. 
“Oh no,” you say but take that hand without hesitation.  “Am I about to regret so many things?”
“What?  No.  When have I ever had a bad idea?” he asks while laughing, no doubt in recollection of every combined bad idea your friendship has conjured. 
You can hardly judge him for any bad ideas, though, seeing as you waltzed in here today asking your friend if he had ever made someone squirt.  It sounds very ridiculous in hindsight, but you truly do trust Jeongin so much that the idea seemed reasonable at the time. 
Now you are in his bedroom, hovering by the bedside while he plops down on his bed with a sigh.  He adjusts his glasses and the neck of his hoodie, like this is all protocol and not remotely unusual.  He takes a pillow and lays it gingerly across his lap, then looks up and beckons you forward with the come-hither crook of two fingers.  His smirk is suggestive but playful, just teasing you, but it awakens those butterflies again. 
“Come on,” he says.  “Sit.  I’ll, um, show you.”
“Show me?” you say, eying the pillow in his lap.  “Yang Jeongin, are you… about to defile that pillow?”
“Yes,” he says, nodding solemnly.  “We’re gonna make it squirt.”
“You know when I asked if you had ever done it before, I meant on a human…”
“Wow! I’m helping you with a visual demonstration and you insult me—!”
“Aha, I’m sorry!”  You burst into laughter at the incredulity on his face.   When he pushes the pillow off his lap with a show of dramatics, you wave your hands just as theatrically.  “I mean it, I mean it,” you say, though your laughter contradicts the sincerity of your words.  “Please help me.  I’m sorry, hahaha, I was just teasing, I need your help, please!”
He tries to stand up but you block him, shuffling every time he leans.  He finally grabs your hips to move you but you grab his shoulders.  Your wrestling is a light-hearted tussle, but then he starts tickling you and you stand no chance of survival.  You turn into a flailing, yelping mess, laughing as you spill across the bed with your arms around each other.   He tortures you another second, forcing another apology out of your mouth. 
When it is over, you lay there, panting.  He is leaning over you, his hands on your waist, yours on his shoulders.   Your friend likes to laugh but a very serious look crosses his face.  He looks at you like he is studying you, discovering some detail for the first time even though he has known you for years.  It is like you can feel his stare, a caress across your cheek, across your lips.  You take your bottom lip into your mouth, wetting it.
He takes a slow, deep breath. 
“That man was crazy,” he says.  His voice is lower than before, scratching above a whisper.  “You’re perfect.  He just didn’t care about getting to know you.  And that sucks for him because you—”  His voice breaks, the little squeak making him laugh, a small embarrassed sound.  The tips of his ears are red and he avoids meeting your gaze.  “You’re beautiful,” he says, “inside and out.  Any man would be lucky to be with you.” 
“Jeongin,” you say softly, because what else can you say? 
He meets your gaze.  His mouth is open like he wants to say more but he can only stare at you.  Eventually, he laughs.  He rubs the back of his neck as he sits up straight.  You sit up as well, staring at him while he adjusts his glasses. 
“Right,” he says.  “The, uh, the pillow.  I, um…”
It might have been amusing, watching him poke a pillow suggestively.  But you no longer care about that.  The energy in this room has changed, the whole world melting under the power of his words, changing the very shape of this space.  When you take a breath, all you smell is his cologne, masculine and smoky, all you see is your friend, in his hoodie and glasses with his blushing cheeks, and all you want is him.  Like this.  Right now. 
He reaches for the pillow and you reach for him.  You take his hand and he looks at you, blinking with surprise. 
You turn his hand over.  He really does have nice hands, long fingers, deft and strong.  You measure it against your own.  Then you guide his hand to your lips and kiss the tips of his fingers.  You look at him, making your eyes big, your lashes fluttering. 
“Oh,” he says.  “Oh.”
You laugh.  He cups your face and draws you close and you are both smiling when your lips come together.  Despite his blush, the kiss is ravishing.  You find yourself gasping for a breath, whimpering when he sucks your bottom lip. 
“Lay down please,” he says, speaking against your mouth. 
You nod.  Those butterflies are wild inside you.  You are certain you already look like an unravelled mess, laying on your back and breathing hard. 
He leans over you, catching your hand when you reach for him.  He kisses your palm, your fingers bumping his glasses, making you giggle.  He smiles too, the kiss lingering.  Your whole arm tingles even when he stops.  He guides your hand above your head, curling your fingers around the bars of his headboard. 
“You keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up,” he says, but laughs at your surprised expression before the words can settle.   “You said yourself, you think too much,” he explains.  “Just lay there.  Don’t move.  Don’t think.  Let me take care of you.”  He puts a leg between yours, pushing forward with his hips to guide yours apart.  He fits there perfectly, pressing his body against yours.  Your breath catches.   “You can trust me,” he says, and somehow that gets you going more than any sexy come-on.
You trust him more than anyone.  You did not hesitate coming to him with an embarrassing story.  You ran to him before anyone else.  You always seek him out first.
You know you are safe in his hands. 
“Do whatever you want with me,” you say.  You never make that sort of offer, but it feels so natural here and now.  With him.  “I’m yours.”
“Whatever I want?” he says, his smile big and dimples deep.   He leans down, kissing your cheek then under your jaw.  When he kisses your throat, it is hot, open-mouthed kiss, all teeth and tongue.  It sends sparks shooting down your whole body, your hips bucking.  He is strong, the weight of him between your legs pinning you to the mattress.  You feel him, firm, hard, his whole body riding the rhythm of yours.  
He has not even undone a single button. 
“Whatever I want,” he repeats.  “That’s a big offer.” 
His hands, those gorgeous hands that had you captivated, slide up your thighs and under your skirt.  He stares down into your face while lifting the material, leaving a trail of goosebumps all the way up your thighs.  You feel yourself clench, a sharp pulse of need in your core.  Your body is thoughtless in its hunger and it feels so good to give into it. 
“Sometimes,” he says, “all I think about this… nothing extreme… just you like this… just us together…”
Every breath of a phrase is punctuated with a kiss, down your chest, your stomach, your thighs.  You are not expecting him to kiss you through your underwear, your hips bucking when he opens his mouth and ravishes you regardless of the barrier.  When you have soaked through the flimsy material, he finally hooks his pinkies into the fabric and tugs it down. 
You do not have time to be shy, just desperate to get them off.  He pushes your thighs back, folding you in half, then goes back to eating your pussy like he has all the time in the world, like there is no where he would rather be.  Your legs shake, your toes curling, body held firmly in his capable hands as he licks you hungrily. 
“Jeongin,” you gasp. 
“You taste like heaven,” is his reply. 
It is so cheesy but it makes you laugh, a happy sound that rumbles in your chest, that couples with pleasure and leaves your whole body singing.  You feel like you could float away. 
You are pliant, soft and malleable in his hands.  He really can do anything with you.  It does not scare you one bit.  You trust him, following his direction when he rolls you onto your side.  You gasp at his hand sliding under your shirt, squeezing your breasts, finding every sensitive nerve as he feels you up. 
“Don’t think,” he says, one arm around your chest and the other sliding down between your legs.  “Just feel, okay?” 
“Mmm,” is your only reply. 
You are so ready for him, wound up from his dirty kisses, taut with tension.  By the time those long fingers are inside you, it feels like completion rather than intrusion.  He fits like he belongs there, curling his fingers against places you never knew were sensitive.  It is like your body gives way, revealing all your secrets to his searching touch. 
“That’s it,” he says when your breathing gets erratic. 
You did not even realize he had found somewhere extra sensitive, not until he is already fucking it slowly.  By the time you realize just how soft you are there, it is too late to brace yourself.  He adds another finger and your body tightens around him.  Your eyes close and you see stars, gasping and rocking and almost crying at the dizzying swirl of sensation. 
“Oh, Jeongin,” you say.  His name is all you say for another minute.  It is the sound on your lips when he moves you, when he turns his hand just slightly, when the new angle sets off a chain reaction of feeling.  You cry out, clenching sporadically around his rapidly moving fingers.  You yank a corner of the bedspread right off the mattress.
Your orgasm seems to go on forever, pulsing and aching and clenching.  Your whole body feels boneless by the time it settles and he slips his fingers free. 
“Oops,” he says, adjusting his skewed glasses with his clean hand.  “Should’ve put a towel down after all.” 
You look down and whimper at the obvious wetness on his bedsheets.   You would apologize but he does not look sorry at all.  In fact, he grins, looking very satisfied with himself. 
You are in a state of utter disarray and he is still fully clothed, having shattered your world with just one hand.  It makes you laugh, giddy. 
Your arms finally drop.  Though it takes a minute, you find a little strength and push yourself up.  He is smiling when you climb into his lap.  He even winks at you when he puts his wet fingers in his mouth. 
You open your mouth too.  You hold his gaze while he puts his fingers in your mouth, his breath catching when you suck them eagerly. 
“I want something more,” you say. 
“Do whatever you want with me,” he echoes your words back to you.  “I’m yours.” 
He is right about the simplest fantasy making for a wonderous reality.  There are no expectations of any over-the-top actions; it is enough it is you and him, together.   Clothing ends up scattered around his room, then you are in his lap and he is holding your waist, and you are holding the bars behind his head as you ride him where he sits against the headboard. 
His glasses get askew but you fix them, laughing against his smile before kissing him again.   It is for nothing because they fall off a second later, when he grabs you and moves, putting you on your back to fuck you at another angle.  He slides a hand between you, rubbing at you, working you up. Your head falls back, your whole body tingling with the approach of another orgasm. 
“Yes, yes,” he says, no doubt feeling you get tight around him.  It is his moaning that sets you off, your legs around his hips, pulling him in close as you come together. 
He kisses all over your face, both of you laughing when he slightly misses your lips.  You find his glasses and put them back on him, meeting his re-focussed gaze and smiling. 
“Was that an okay demonstration?” he teases.  “Like I said, I’m not very good at drawing.” 
“Maybe so,” you tease back, running your fingers through his hair.  “I might need another one.  Just to be sure.” 
“Just to be sure,” he says, nodding very sagely.  “Good idea.  Maybe after that, I’ll take you out to dinner.  Then we better come back here and try again.”
“Just to be sure,” you say. 
“Just to be sure,” he agrees. 
You are already smiling when he kisses you. 
You have never been more sure about anything in your life. 
1K notes · View notes
sparklingchim · 9 months
Text
too hot to handle;m | jjk
Tumblr media
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 5.3k
rating: 18+
genre: hockeyplayer!jungkook, richgirlie!oc, brother’s best friend, college!au, fwb
warnings: belly button smoochies !!!!, they banter a lot hihi, oral (m receiving), protected sex, dick slaps on the face 🫢, mentions of underage drinking, spanking, spitting, dirty talk, oc loves reality tv shows & jk just puts up w it, groping, praise, a sprinkle of jealousy😋, INTRODUCING A KITTY CAT !!!! pls she is the cutest <3
summary: pov: it's a hot summer day, and naturally, your brother's best friend can't take his eyes off your scantily clad body.
a/n: wow it's been so long!! but here's a lil summer fic!! love u hope u like it MWAH 😙
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
“I can’t believe those people can’t keep their dick in for just a little while.” Jungkook tilts his head in a disapproving way. “There’s so much money at stake and you're risking it just cause you’re horny?”
You silently giggle at the way his brows knit. The judgement that contorts his face is the exact opposite of his earlier claims that he doesn’t care about silly reality tv shows that are obviously pre-arranged and scripted.
“Oh, don’t act like it’d be easy for you.” You poke his calf with your foot. “You’re a very horny person, Jungkook.” You look up at him with your chin resting against his bare chest and give him a pointed look.
His bottom lip juts out as he ponders your words. “I don’t think so,” he finally says.
You gasp in mock surprise, pushing yourself away from with your palms against shoulders. You lie nearly completely on top of him, one leg thrown across his body. “That is a bold statement coming from you.”
Jungkook toys with the strap of your lacy camisole. “Honestly, I think you are hornier than me.”
You blink multiple times. “Me?” You point to yourself. “No, it’s you.” You nudge his bare, husky chest with your nail – you got your nails done for summer, the tips are painted in the cutest pastel colours.
He catches your finger and swiftly interlaces his hand with yours. “Nuh-uh. It’s not me,” he denies. “Who was the one to initiate things between us?”
“That has nothing to do with this,” you argue. “You just never initiated anything because you’re scared of my brother.” A mischievous twinkle unfolds in your eyes. Jungkook should be paid for the obnoxious number of times he has to put up with your bratty ass.
Jungkook rolls his pretty eyes. “I wouldn’t be on his fucking couch cuddling with his sister if I was scared, hm?” He looks across the hallway, pointing with his chin to Taehyung’s room. “Where even is he?”
“I dunno. Said he’d come home late.”
His fingers slip away from yours and he holds his palm against yours.
“You’ve got long fingers,” you say, staring at the size difference.
“Your nails are pretty.” He mindlessly brushes his fingers over them.
You excitedly tap your fingertips against his hand. “I know, right? Thank you!” You lean down and give his belly button a kiss.
“Another one?”
You giggle foolishly, planting another smooch on his tummy. Then you rest your head on his belly and refocus on the show playing on the television.
His palm lies on the small of your back, thumb gently stroking your exposed skin. “You were, like, all over me, though. Last year, I mean.”
“Excuse me?” you turn your head.
“Last year during summer break, when Taehyung and I surprised you.”
“I know what you mean,” you tell him. You drop his hand on his lap, a frown blossoming on your face. “But that was not the case at all.”
Okay, perhaps he is correct – but to your defence, you were struggling with your first real heartbreak around that time and needed a little distraction.
“I just wanted to get the charger and leave,” he argues with a pout, playing all innocent with those damned doe eyes
“No.” You give him an appalled look. “You were literally standing in my room staring at me.”
“Well, I didn’t expect to find you like that.”
“You barged into my room, what were you expe-”
“I didn’t barge into your room,” he clarifies. “Your door was ajar, so I assumed you’d be decent.”
You shake your head disapprovingly. “Knocking is basic etiquette.”
“Whatever,” he sighs and his hand on your back sneaks beneath your top. “You initiated it, though. Practically threw yourself at me.”
You scoff, frowning up at him. “Need a trip down memory lane?”
Jungkook smirks amusedly. His dimple pops out adorably. “What?” He twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “Wanna show me what we did?”
You roll your eyes, despite your heart skipping a beat. “You wouldn’t last a second on the show.” You tilt your head towards the flat screen tv.
“I have a hot girl in my arms – gonna blame a boy for trying?”
Jungkook clearly knows how to get you. And you hate that he knows when he’s got you. His smile grows bigger and his hand wanders down to your ass, barely covered with your tiny shorts, and delivers a little smack.
“C’mere,” he whispers and pulls you on top of him. “Wanna make you scream louder than you did earlier.”
~
one year ago
For you, summer doesn’t quite begin until it’s the perfect day to lie on the sun lounger in a cute bikini, sipping on a cold drink and bask in the gentle warmth with good music in your ears. It’s the perfect way to relax and unwind.
Lucky for you, today is one of those summer days – just perfect enough to spend the entire day resting by the pool. The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm glow on your skin.
Better than Revenge by Taylor Swift is blasting through your phone while you placidly flip the page of a memoir about love.
As you look up from the book, you notice that your little grey cat Moon has left your lap. She was sunbathing with you, lying flat on her belly with her limbs outstretched, but she must’ve slipped into the house a while ago. You dog ear the page and place the book on the small table beside you.
The sun dances on the water, creating a beautiful mosaic of light and shadow. A little slice of heaven on earth, you think. You love spending time in the backyard. It’s peaceful and tranquil.
And that’s when you hear the patter of feet running across the grass from behind, and before you’re able to realise what’s happening, two bodies jump into the pool, the water splashes everywhere – including you.
“What the-” You shut your eyes closed despite the sunglass perched on the bridge of your nose. Water droplets hit your face. You pull your sunglasses up to your forehead.
Two heads pop out of the water. “Hi.” Jungkook is the first to speak up. He sends a sweet smile in your direction, his hand doing a little wave.
Your heart beats faster at the sight of him. Unthinkingly, you slowly mimic the wave with your hand. Your gaze wanders over to the tattoo wreathing his shoulder, peeking out of the water, and the way the droplets run from his face to his neck before your eyes shift to your brother.
Taehyung is fixing his hair, a huge grin plastered on his face.
“What are you guys doing here?” You grab the towel next to you to dry yourself off. “Isn’t it Thursday? I thought you were coming back on Friday?”
“Surprise!” Your brother yells from the pool. When Taehyung notices the pout on your lips, he gives you a quizzical look. “You’re not happy to see me?” He pushes himself out of the pool and walks over to you.
“I had planned to bake you a cake,” you explain sullenly and stand up.
“A cake? For what?”
“Just a little welcome back cake.” You shrug. “Mum bought me the pink Smeg stand mixer and I wanted to try it out.”
“Well, that’s fine. We could bake together?” He opens his arms, and despite him being wet everywhere, you rush into the hug.
“Missed you,” you mumble into his arm. Immediate comfort surrounds you. "But it’s no fun being in the kitchen with you.”
“Yah.” He shoves you away. “Be grateful that I’m letting you ruin my kitchen with all your stuff.”
“Ruin?” you repeat offended. “As far as I know you barely even have anything in your kitchen – let alone your apartment. I’ll decorate everything really pretty, just trust me.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jungkook pushing himself out of the pool. Taehyung restricts your sight a little, so you take a subtle step to the side. But the second you have a clear view of Jungkook, you instantly regret it.
His arms have gotten bigger – stronger, buffer, just everything – and the water running down his sculpted body is pitifully failing at making this scene less salivating. Oh, and his thighs. His wet swim shorts cling to them, leaving exactly nothing to the imagination.
You hastily look away when Jungkook catches your eyes.
“You missed me too?” Jungkook chips in, standing next to Taehyung. Jungkook wears a cheeky grin and stretches his arms out.
With faux reluctance, you give in. “I guess,” you mutter and gingerly hug him. Jungkook’s big hands are on your back and you feel the slightest tingle.
“You guess?” he scoffs.
He pulls you back and peers down at you beneath his wet locks. You’re a little blinded by the proximity of his gorgeous face. His piercings twinkle in the sun just like is eyes do when he looks at you.
When his hands clasp your waist, you know exactly what he’s scheming.
“Jungkook, don’t.” You try to push him away, but he obviously won’t budge.
“When are you gonna learn that teasing me by the pool never ends well for you?” He cocks his head.
You feel Taehyung’s hand on your shoulder. “You did this to yourself.”
You huff, trying to plead with your eyes. “Jungkook. I really don’t want to get my hair wet.”
“You don’t want me to throw you into the pool?”
“No.” Your mouth twists into a pout. Maybe he’ll spare you for cuteness. Your hands travel to his arms. Or maybe you can distract him enough to let you go.
“Too bad.” Jungkook throws you over his shoulder with an annoying grin. You kick his back with your fists, but it’s hopeless. “That’s, like, one of my favourite summer activities.”
And then he leaps into the pool with you.
~
You admit, you did indeed have fun goofing around with them in the pool – you're still pissed at Jungkook for tossing you into the water though.
“You’ve been alone the whole day?” Taehyung asks when all three of you are out of the pool.
“Yeah, mum and dad said they’d come home later.”
“Why haven’t you invited someone over?”
“Just wanted to enjoy some me time.” You point to your copy of Everything I Know About Love. “I was reading a little.”
“How are thing with Doyoon? Haven’t heard from him in a while.”
It is a reasonable question, given that you haven’t updated Taehyung on your relationship status for, like, a month now. But you’d rather talk about anything but your ex.
“I don’t know,” you reply indifferently. When you spot little Moon plodding around the garden you swoop her up into your arms. “Have you greeted Moonie yet? She’s missed you.” The tiny grey kitty purrs in your hold.
“I spent like 20 minutes cuddling her in the living room when we got here.” Taehyung pets her under her chin and her purring intensifies. “So, what’s with Doyoon? You two had a fight?”
Jungkook joins the kitty cuddles and gives Moon belly rubs.
“I broke up with him.”
Both boys stop their movements. Moon complains meekly at the sudden lack of petting.
“You broke up with him?” Jungkook asks perplexed.
You’re aware it sounds shocking that the girl with huge separation anxiety and attachment issues broke up with her boyfriend of nearly a year, but that is exactly what you did.
“What did he do?” Taehyung's eyebrows are knitted, flashing you a glowering gaze.
You know he is not mad at you – even though he doesn’t particularly like when you keep things hidden from him – but mad at the fact that someone hurt you and he wasn’t there to protect you.
You just shrug.
“How long ago was that?” Taehyung continues his inquiry.
“Uh, like a month ago or so?” You let Moon hop onto the grass. She immediately goes to rub her head against Jungkook’s leg.
“___, if you want me to-”
“Tae, I’m fine. Really.”
“We’ll talk about this later.” In Jungkook’s direction he says, “I’ll get us some towels.” And then he disappears into the house.
Jungkook steps closer to you, now with Moon in his embrace, and changes the subject. “Watchu been up to?” He pinches your cheek. “Senior year was fine without us?”
Frowning, you shove his arm away. “Believe it or not, but school was actually more peaceful without annoying boys in the hallways.”
Jungkook snorts a laugh at your jab. His dimples popping out distract you a little and all you think about is cute and how badly you want to poke them. But instead, you cross your arms in front of your chest.
“So, everything’s been fine?” he asks. “You’re excited for college? Being roomies with Taehyung?” Jungkook’s eyes shimmer teasingly – how could they not, his doe eyes look the sparkliest around you.
Now, you don’t want to seem rude. But when you thought about moving out and finally having the freedom you had dreamed of for so long, you didn’t reckon with the fact that your parents had already arranged your move out without you. You had tabs of pretty apartments near campus saved on your laptop when your mum nonchalantly asked at dinner a few months ago if Taehyung had already removed the furniture from his guest bedroom so you could furnish it to your liking.
You were a little upset – still are upset, but there's nothing you can do.
It’s a sore subject, so you bite the side of your lip sulkily. “Why? Do you wanna move in? I heard you only got a tiny dorm.” You keep your nose in the air.
“Oh no, I love my apartment. I love having my own space and not having to share it with anyone.” Jungkook shakes his head at your wrong assumption, all innocently. “It’s not big, but perfect for one person.” He shrugs. “Will you be fine with only one room to yourself, princess?” He actually flashes you a smile – taunting you with those sickeningly wicked lips and round eyes – but you just roll your eyes at his silly remark and turn on your heel, sashaying your way back to the sun lounger.
“I’m good.” You pick up your towel from the small table to dry you off. “I’ll be perfectly fine. I don’t think I’ll be home much anyway.” You imitate his smile from just a moment ago. “Wanna have the full college experience.” You think you see his face falter for the tiniest second before he recovers.
“Told Taehyung that too?”
You purse your lips in naivety. “Of course he knows.”
“Oh, yeah?” He quirks his brow. You catch his eyes as they dip down to watch you drying your chest.
You blink. “What do you mean – yeah, of course I told him.” You have to contain your laughter when perplexity falls over Jungkook’s face. “What are you thinking of?” Your head falls sideways, mouth curving upwards.
“No, what are you thinking of?”
“Oh, I’m thinking of spending my time in the library to study, maybe explore some cute cafes nearby to study in – oh, creating study groups and having study buddies would be fun!” you exclaim. “And obviously cheering for Taehyung and you,” – you give him a pointed look – “at your games.” You throw the now damp towel back on the lounger. “What were you thinking of?”
He shakes his head, pouty mouth denying that he was thinking of something else. He’s guilelessly rubbing Moon’s back, who has quickly fallen into a little nap in his arms.
“Cheering us on, hm?”
“Just like old times,” you say. “Think I should apply as a cheerleader again?”
Jungkook toys with his lip ring and you hate when he does it because you already have a hard time not blatantly staring at his mouth as it is.
“You-” He stops abruptly.
“What?” you ask, trying to pull the words from him, the tip of your tongue pressing against your top lip.
“You looked good in your cheerleader uniform.” His eyes dart mindlessly over your body.
A short giggle escapes you. “I know, right? Thank you!” You give him a sweet smile over your shoulder as you walk pass Taehyung, who just stepped outside with two towels in his hand.
“Where’re you going?” Taehyung halts next to you.
“Thought I’d make us some drinks,” you reply.
Taehyung gives you a long stare. “That’s what you’ve been up to the past weeks?”
You wave dismissively. “No, not at all.”
But Taehyung can tell when you lie – can smell it from anywhere. It’s something you hate and love at the same time. Sometimes you just want to be left alone, and sometimes, when your guard is up high, he allows you to feel vulnerable through his endless poking and snooping.
“Maybe a little.” An apologetic smile forms on your mouth, eyes going rounder when you hear Taehyung sigh.
Okay, maybe you did drink a little more than you’d like to admit – you got your heart broken. What’s a girl gonna do? – but never too much. And never when you were on your own. Being drunk alone is no fun.
“I promise it’s not that serious,” you say. Nothing a little crying, cuddles from Moon and journaling at night can’t cure. Your visits at stationery stores have been a tad bit excessive this past month – but for good reason.
His eyes tell you that he’s going to confront you about this later. He nods his head to the kitchen inside. “Don’t go too overboard, yeah?”
“Oh, I’ll make you one of my specialties!”
Taehyung doesn’t join your enthusiasm. Instead, he scowls. “Specialties? ___, when did you-”
You hop into the house, not listening anymore. Once he gets a taste of your drink, his grumpy face will ask for another one instead of grumbling about your recklessness.
~
You don’t know what Taehyung and Jungkook are up to, but you hope they took your advice seriously when you told them to put on sunscreen if they want to spend more time outside.
You’re fresh out of a shower. The steam in your bathroom follows you into your bedroom – despite the hot temperatures, you can’t bring yourself to shower with cold water.
With a fluffy towel around you and your kitty ears headband on, you poke your head into your wardrobe to search for clothes.
You just fetched a cute pair of panties when you hear your door fly open.
“Taehyung needs a charger can you-”
Jungkook immediately shuts up.
Your panties slip from your fingers. His eyes move aimlessly over your body until he realises what he’s doing. Flustered, he turns his head around and sees the door wide open. Jungkook quickly closes it, and you don’t know why – maybe he doesn’t want anyone seeing you like this, you think he mentioned earlier that Namjoon was gonna come over too, or maybe he doesn’t want someone seeing him in this untimely situation.
Your cheeks feel on fire. “He needs a phone charger?” you ask when he shifts his gaze back at you.
“Yeah.” You almost giggle at the way he tries not to look down at your body. He already had trouble with that in the backyard.
You pad through your room to find your charger.
“I’m not sure where I put it.” You feel his eyes on you and inevitably, your entire body gradually starts feeling hot. You bend down to take a peek under your bed, tightly holding the towel in front of your chest to keep it from sliding down, but you come up empty-handed.
Jungkook clears his throat. “You know – I think he’ll be fine. If he doesn’t find his I can get mine from home.”
Returning to him, you quickly snatch your panties from the ground and throw them back into your wardrobe.
“Maybe I left it in the living room,” you say, eyes trailing over his bare chest. If he’s not subtle about staring, you won’t be either.
“I’ll tell him to look there.”
You nod. And he nods. But no one moves.
“That looks cute.” He nods towards your headband.
“Oh.” You touch the soft material of your headband. “Thank you.”
“I probably should head back.”
“You really want to leave?”
That elicits a surprised snort from him. “Do you want me to stay?” His eyebrows shoot up.
“I dunno.” You toy with the front of your towel. “Maybe?”
The crooked smile that appears on his face gives you the last push. You’ve got Jungkook alone in your room in nothing but his swim shorts – you'd be a fool not to try.
His eyes are locked on your fingers playing with your towel. Jungkook takes a step towards you. When he raises his tatted arm and gently outlines the curve of your waist with his fingertip, you let go of your towel. With a dull thud it pools around your feet.
“I-” Jungkook is speechless as he stares at your exposed body His doe eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them. He averts his gaze to your face, pointing his thumb to the door. His mouth parts, but no words come past them.
“Don’t leave.” A little frown scrunches your face. “Do you want to leave?”
“We shouldn’t-” Jungkook shakes his head, eyes furtively glimpsing at your body again before lifting them up. “You sure?” he asks. “You want this?” Hesitantly, his tongue fiddles with his piercing.
You nod and reach for his hand, grabbing a few fingers to drag him closer to you.
“You want this?” he repeats. “Need you to say it. Please.” He’s staring deep into your eyes and you see the desire and restraint striving against each other in his. His question lingering in the air controls his mixed emotions.
“I want this.” You tug him even closer.
His longing glances are all over you – he can’t seem to dwell too long on one curve, he needs to memorise it all.
“Fuck it,” he whispers. And then he cups your jaw, roughly going in for a messy kiss.
You stumble a few steps back, but Jungkook catches you, his fingers dip into the soft skin of your waist. A sigh from you mingles into the kiss. You didn’t think kissing Jungkook would feel so good. But his lips are ridiculously smooth, and he moves his mouth in a fashion that has you yearning for more. Your hands vanish in his hair, teasingly pulling at his damp locks.
He pulls back, breathing heavy. “This is so wrong.” He nuzzles his head into your neck.
“He won’t know.” When you feel his teeth sinking into your skin, you yank him back. “He will if you're gonna suck hickeys on me.”
“You just taste so fucking good,” he mumbles.
You pepper kisses along his jaw before you slowly sink on your knees. The bulge in his shorts stares right at you. Giddy sparks flash through your eyes while you look up at Jungkook.
“You’re not doing this because you drank, right?” His knuckles brush over your cheek.
“Huh?” you feel dizzy, little pink hearts swell up in front of your eyes, the longer you stare into his dreamy face. When you register his question, you deny it with a strong shake of your head. “I’m not drunk.”
He tips your chin up. “You promise?”
“I didn’t put anything in my drink,” you assure him. “I promise.”
With a smile playing on your lips, you place a kiss on his belly button before pulling down his swim shorts. The pink hearts grow even bigger when his cock pops out. It’s a pretty cock – veiny and thick, his tip glistening with a teeny tiny dab of pre-cum. You’ve never been more excited to put a dick in your mouth.
You have one palm around his cock and guide his head to your mouth. You stick your tongue out and sweep it over his slit. The muscles on his abdomen tense. Even the slightest reactions from him excites you, cheeks turning warm in eagerness.
A breathy moan escapes Jungkook at the feeling of your warm lips wrapped around his head and his fingers slide over your kitty ears headband to the back of your head. You like the feeling of his hand on you. It elicits a tingly sensation in your tummy. You take more of him, relaxing your throat as you go.
“Good girl.” His hushed praise has wetness pooling between your thighs. Your fist curled around his cock tightens fleetingly.
More quiet moans fill the room as you bob your head, tongue swirling around his length. You pull off his dick with a lewd sound and pump his cock while you suck on his balls. Jungkook’s head falls back, flaunting his pretty throat you’d die to adorn with your love bites all over.
Dragging your lips over his cock again, his palm pushes your head forward. Almost his entire length vanishes in your mouth and the corner of your eyes start shimmering with tears.
“Fuck, that’s right.” He holds you there, savouring the feeling of your lips pulled taut around his swollen cock. “Taking my cock so good.” When you retract with a gag, his thumb brushes your tear away. “But still too big, huh?”
“You wanna teach me how to take all of it?” You bat your eyes.
Jungkook grins, flashing you his bunny teeth. He glides his tip over your plush lips and to your cheek. “Think you could take it all?”
“If you teach me well enough.” Your palms rest against his muscular thighs. You squeeze them and your mouth turns round in awe of their firmness.
He taps his cock on your face a couple times. “Another time, princess. Just wanna fuck your mouth right now.” Jungkook presses his dick on your mouth. “Open.”
With his cock back in your mouth, he starts moving his hips. He doesn’t force his cock in too far, just enough to have you teary eyed.
“Scoot over there.” His voice his husky as he pulls his dick from your mouth, it distracts you a little from what he’s instructed you to do until Jungkook nudges your shoulder and nods his chin to the back. You crawl backwards on your knees, palms on his thighs. When he’s satisfied, he leans in for a short kiss and you kneel comfortably on the plush carpet beneath you.
He strokes himself, eyebrows drawn together as he ogles your body through his hooded eyes. You could sit here for hours watching him play with himself. He’s just so hot. You love watching hot men do anything.
“Wanna fuck you,” he rasps, words laced with thick, deep lust. He pushes his hair back before it falls prettily into his face. “Can I fuck you?”
Unbeknownst to him, you would do anything he asked you to do now.
When you raise to your feet Jungkook asks, “Can you keep quiet?”
Offence is written on your face as you pad to your nightstand. “Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time I’ve snuck a boy into my room.”
“Who would’ve thought you’re such a dirty girl, hm?” He snatches the condom from your drawer before you can reach for it. He’s practised in tearing the wrapper open and rolling it over his cock. “Bend over your desk for me.”
You prop yourself up on your elbows, arching your back for him. He shoves two fingers up your pussy and you have to bite down your lip to stifle a moan.
“So wet for me already.” Jungkook curls his fingers, and you can’t believe how fast he has your thighs trembling.
Withdrawing his fingers, he aligns his tip to your entrance. Jungkook gradually sinks his cock into you.
“Fuck, you’re big,” you whine, brows pinched together.
“You can take it.” Jungkook moves his hips while his fingers grip your ass, kneading the supple flesh. “Your pussy feels so fucking good – fuck.”
Jungkook fucks you fast – fucks you good, you think you already feel your high building up. He sneaks his around your body, pressing his palm on your tummy.
“You like this?” He puts pressure with his hand and your walls clamp around his cock. A moan escapes you. “Good girl,” he coos. “Wanna make you cum for me.”
“Don’t stop – please don’t stop,” you pant, shutting your eyes closed. Your elbows give in and you rest your arms on the desk.
Jungkook’s cock feels undeniably good, rubbing against your sweet spot and making you see stars while you uncontrollably utter tiny moans.
“Gonna cum around my cock?” Jungkook hand collides against your butt. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”
Your climax consumes you in lightning speed. It swamps your wholly, tears well up in your eyes. Your legs are wobbly, but Jungkook has a safe hand around you.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispers.
His hand on your tummy flies up to your tits, rolling them around in his palm while relentlessly fucking you through your high.
“Has any sneaky link made you cum this fast before?” His voice is tinted in something you can’t quiet pinpoint. It’s deep, fierce.
“Nu-uh.” You’re dizzy and breathless, can’t think straight.
“Good.” He lands a smack on your ass.
His breathing intensifies, cock throbbing in your pussy. Pressing his forehead against your shoulder blade, his husky moans fill your ear. Your eyes roll. There’s nothing hotter than men moaning – especially when it’s Jungkook.
With a final thrust he spills his cum inside the condom. He exhales shakily and the tiniest whine falls from his lips. “Fuck.” Both his hands run over the slope of your ass. Jungkook plants a thoughtless kiss on the nape of your neck. “Fucking you might be my favourite now.”
“Found a new favourite summer activity besides throwing me into the pool?” You smile tiredly, peering over your shoulder.
“No – I’m talking favourite activity in general.” He absent-mindedly roams his palms across your back and down to your butt.
A giddy feeling unfurls in your chest. “Well, don’t tell Tae that.”
“Fuck, I should head downstairs.” Jungkook pulls his cock out, coaxing a little whine from you “You have a bin here?”
“In my bathroom.”
While Jungkook gets rid of the condom, you wrap yourself up in the towel again. You need another shower before putting on clothes.
When he steps out, he quickly throws on his swim shorts. “You gonna take a shower?”
“Yeah...need to fix this.”
Genuine confusion spreads on his face. “You look pretty.” With an endearing smile, dimples out and doe eyes sparkling he adds, “Always.”
Something really tightly wraps around your heart. “Thanks.” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip to stop your smile from growing.
The doorbell rings downstairs.
“Oh, is that Joon?” you ask joyfully. “I need him to recommend me some books again! I missed him so much.”
“He has a girlfriend,” Jungkook tells you.
You frown. You’re not stupid – obviously you know he has one. You’ve seen the pictures he shared on his Instagram stories. What kinda guy goes to a ceramic painting place? That was obviously a date.
“I know.”
When Namjoon’s loud voice screaming for Jungkook reaches your ears, your tummy churns.
“You need to leave.” You push Jungkook towards the door. He opens it and swiftly walks out.
“Hey, Namjoon, is that you?” Jungkook yells.
As you watch Jungkook leave your room, you want him back immediately. It feels unfair to get a taste of what his kisses and touches feel like only to have them taken away.
But deep down you know you two can’t repeat this. You wouldn’t be able to keep it from your brother. Eventually, Taehyung would figure it out.
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
pt 1 & pt 2 here <3
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ncteez · 2 months
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oh no, he's in love? (k.m.g)
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Mingyu knew that sleeping with you was a bad idea, especially when he learns that you’re now dating his son, Chan. He pulls himself back into reality and moves on from the situation, allowing the two of you to end the small fling without suspicion, or rather, he tries.  or the one where your re-established crush and now boyfriend, chan, finds out that his dad knows you better than he does.
― part one here! 
ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give mingyu a boner. 
minors do not interact. 
WORDCOUNT― 15.1k
PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader  | chan x afab reader
CONTENT―  angst, there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s. 
SIDE CHARACTERS― chan as mingyu’s son, jihoon as chan’s ride home when ur mad at him
WARNINGS― borderline cheating, alcohol abuse, morally gray choices need to be made, chan disowns mingyu, reader can be lifted and carried by mingyu.
NOTE― *runs away very very fast, so fast that no one can catch me and make me face the trials of what this fic may have done to some of you* not proofread because hahahaha nope. 
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags :: pussy drunk mingyu, reader is almost entirely silent through the smut but you’ll get why, pussy devouring, kitchen counter sex, couch sex, missionary, eye contact, making out, finger fucking, cream pie/unprotected sex
~
You keep running through explanations in your head, more for yourself than anyone else. When you pushed that crush you had on Chan away, it was clearly because you were horny and he wasn’t picking up the hints. The crush never actually died, your interest just skewed to someone who appeared more ready to pleasure you when you needed it the most. The fact that it happened to have been Chan’s dad? Well, we just won’t talk about how that factors into it.
The explanation of an insatiable “horny level” high enough to fuck Mingyu? It manages to calm you down each time you’re actually with Chan. He’s entirely unaware of what happened between you and his father and you’d prefer to keep it that way, which is why you haven’t seen Mingyu in over a month, and why you avoid seeing him any further. 
After that first night with Mingyu, you saw him a few times after and continued your little fling with him until Chan made himself more prominent in your life, more so than he already was. He made his feelings clear, he stepped up, he started hanging out with you one on one rather than consistently inviting you to parties with him. It was easy to fall back into your original mindstate about him especially without the alcohol being involved. Wanting to hold his hand, wanting to kiss him, wanting to touch him. He stepped up and asked you to be his girlfriend about a week after you stopped seeing Mingyu all together. You expected to be asked, in all fairness, so it was the right thing to do. 
Mingyu never texted you nor did he ever call even before you stopped seeing him, he always just responded. You were thankful for that, despite remembering how you laid with him in his bed the last night you spent with him, wondering if that feeling in your stomach was something deeper than arousal. Small secretive hopes that those small words of “I never want to assume, that’s why I don’t text first.” with an even smaller explanation of “It’s not because I don’t want you.” would become something more. 
Still, those budding hopes don’t matter now, as Chan continues to make himself the center of your love life. There is something on your mind that bothers you though. The fact that there could be a future together with Chan and knowing that you can’t avoid Mingyu forever. 
God, you’re so right about that issue too, because of course Chan is happily texting you as the semester comes to an end. Of course he’s setting up dinner with his dad and inviting you to meet him properly for the first time. 
You: chan, i’ve met your dad a billion times
Chan: yeah but not as my girlfriend! 
You: fair but, i’ve already met him lol, i’d rather we just hang out without parents around
Your brain pounds at the idea of pretending you haven’t met Mingyu on levels deeper than you should have. It also pounds at the idea of seeing Mingyu’s reaction to you doing what you’re doing. He must think so lowly of you, to fuck him and still be brave enough to enter into a relationship with his son? You’re sure he already knows you’re dating him, but like, you’d rather not see him see it? 
Chan: babe come on, i wanna do coupley things with you! just pretend you’ve never met him, plus he seemed cool with the idea and even said he can make up my old room if we wanted to sleep over. 
The pit in your stomach grows at the very idea that you’ve never been in Chan’s old room before, but you’d been in Mingyu’s many times. Enough to remember the creak of the boards just at the base of his bedroom door, enough to know where he hangs his jacket outside of the closet, and which side of his bed he tends to sleep on the most. 
Unfortunately, and with a world of reluctance, you know you can’t avoid Mingyu forever. The thought alone that he already knows drives the bubbles in your stomach up to your throat, leaving a bad taste in your mouth as you give in to your boyfriend. Chan, the one you chose, and the one you know you will continue to choose. 
You: alright, alright. what should i wear?
Chan: can you wear that one skirt 
You: NO
~
Now, after a long night of overthinking and trying to come up with an excuse to not see Mingyu again, you’re sitting on your bed wearing the exact skirt Chan wants you to wear, waiting for him to pick you up and drive you to the most awkward situation that could ever happen to you.
You’re really hoping he doesn’t opt to sleep there and expect you to be beside him. Something inside tells you that he’d be able to smell the weakness on you, or the nervousness around his father. After all, Chan is more mindful than you gave him credit for originally. Only having learned this through his never-ending string of apologies of never reciprocating your hints previously. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he had said, he just wasn’t sure if he was ready at the time. 
That was, until he noted how you kind of backed off. He didn’t want to fumble a girl like you, and so, he leaped further than any man ever had done with you. Mindful, he is. Of himself, of you, hopefully not of anything else though. You’d really rather he not take note of any lingering memories in his childhood home regarding your naked body pressed against whatever surface Mingyu has had you against.
Trying to act like Mingyu hasn’t had you pressed against the washer in the laundry room is harder than you thought it would be. Trying to pretend you haven’t touched him, or kissed him, or made him moan is insanely difficult to do. Those images and sounds were burned into your mind the moment it happened, and even now, when you get intimate with Chan, you find yourself finding the differences between the two. Which is….not good.
For instance, Mingyu is bigger. All around, he loomed and could do absolutely anything he wanted to you, but he was polite and never took advantage of his size or age. He was gentle and kind, even when his deep thrusts hurt. He always kissed you when you winced, always told you to hold onto him, and always thanked you for taking him so well. 
Chan, on the other hand is–a good size of course, not as thick or as long as Mingyu, body stature not nearly as big either but, the sex is hot, messy, clumsy even. 
He’s cheeky and selfish for his pleasure, but so are you, so the dynamic is something that turns you on beyond belief. Having someone so eager to touch you felt amazing. Chan never quite knew where he wanted his lips, tongue, or fingers first and it always feels so good to let him determine that himself. 
 The first time you finally had him between your legs, you could argue that he gave you some of the best head you’d ever had. Until you remembered how Mingyu did it. How desperate someone twice your size and age was for you to get on his face, how ready he was to make you feel good even while neglecting himself. Chan doesn’t do that, he likes to hold you down when you squirm, and he certainly doesn’t allow himself to be neglected for too long.
Both of them fuck so differently, and both of them fuck exactly how you want them to. Or, wanted them to, if you’re talking about Mingyu. It’s just, you only know of the love from Chan and the presumed fantasy of what you think Mingyu’s love would feel like. 
As you sit here, comfortable and pleased with your current sex life, you can’t help but miss the way you were held by Mingyu. His big arms felt so safe, even when you weren’t in any position to feel unsafe. You can’t compare the two, truly, but you still try. Internally wondering which is better despite already making the choice of being Chan’s girlfriend. 
Naturally though, you cannot live your life through sexual hopes and dreams like this when you’ve got Chan right here, giving his all to you. So, you let it rest, even when the thoughts flood your mind. 
The memories and thoughts of Mingyu will die as the days pass, right? As you and Chan establish a good foundation, and eventually fall into something more serious than just a mid-college relationship, right? There’s no harm in remembering fondly until that happens, right?
Right, well. You still have to officially meet Mingyu again, so. 
Even now, as you’re with Chan and pulling into his father’s driveway, your brain finds itself reverting back to how Mingyu used to open the door for you when you were alone. Always that little smirk, always a tight and warm hug before it immediately turned to minty fresh kisses deepening by the second.
When he opens the door this time, he appears to be nothing but a doting father. One who doesn’t have desperate arousal pressing against his jeans when he looks at you. It’s a reminder that he isn’t opening this door for you alone this time. He’s not inviting you in to put those broad hands on your thighs to spread your legs open for him. No, he’s inviting you in for fucking dinner with your boyfriend. His son. 
He doesn’t appear to be bothered though, nor does his eyes linger like they used to. He greets you the same way he greets Chan, only glancing at your hand in his son’s grasp for a moment before offering the two of you a smile.
“It’s about time I got to officially meet her.” Mingyu calls out with a chipper tone, reaching his hand out to you for a hand shake. “Now that you’re seeing me at a decent time, without dragging my insane child to the couch to sleep off his bad decisions, I’m the actual Mingyu.”
You reluctantly reach for his hand to shake it, the warmth of them no longer there from when he used to hold your hips or caress your cheek. They’re cold this time, but his smile is warm. You avoid eye contact, mostly looking straight past him rather than choosing to try and read his features. 
“It’s kind of weird seeing you when the sun is out, Mr. Kim,” You comment, feeling a little bit shy about all of this despite how bold you normally are. “Kind of nice that we are all here to meet without Chan dry heaving against me.”
Mingyu pauses at the name you just called him, accepting it and dipping his head politely at you with a soft and accepting smile.
“Oh yeah, for sure.” Chan laughs, squeezing your hand in his and dragging you inside, forcing you to brush only slightly by Mingyu, who steps back to give you the space. 
On one hand, that comment meant more than you meant it to, but it was also the truth. For one, you should never be calling your boyfriend’s dad by his actual name, and two, even if you never got to experience getting into Mingyu’s bed, still you’d have only met him in the middle of the night after wild college parties. Even those days when you slept over and went home the next morning, the sun was out but it didn’t change the fact that most of your waking hours with Mingyu were spent when the city was blanketed by night. 
The atmosphere feels so awkward in these circumstances and the worst part is that they’re not supposed to. If you had just kept your hands to yourself, if Mingyu was just….not so fucking hot. Even now, as you avoid eye contact with him, you watch the way he steps around the kitchen with confidence as he prepares the last of the dinner. You watch the way his shirt squeezes his biceps and the way his fingers hold a bowl. 
You are stupid to have come here so soon.
Unintentionally you rub your legs together as you watch him, as if your body will react regardless of what your heart tells you to do. Chan is off to the side moving his hand from the table and to your thigh, completely unaware that the movements from you are from unwanted arousal and not nervousness. 
“What’re you being so shy for?” Chan whispers, squeezing your thigh with care, dipping his head down to make eye contact with you. “Like you said, you’ve already met him before.”
He has no idea that the simple touch to your thigh is driving you insane right now, and you can’t even react to it the way you want to because you wouldn’t know if you’d moan the wrong name if you end up being intimate with Chan here. It feels insanely overwhelming just sitting here at the dinner table and the worst part is that it absolutely should not be like this. As if that’s not already well established in your head, 
“I know, but it’s weird pretending like it’s my first time meeting him.” You whisper back, trying to relax your body and keep your eyes on Chan. 
You can’t help but feel like he can see straight through you, despite knowing there is absolutely no way in hell he could. 
“It’ll feel better, don’t worry. I know you’ve only talked to him a few times, but he’s pretty down to earth.”
Chan really thinks you’ve only met Mingyu in passing when dropping him off. God, the guilt is overwhelming as you lean into him, dropping your head on his shoulder and sighing. You can’t even tell if this looks dramatic or awkward, but thankfully, Mingyu appears to be avoiding your eye much like you are for him. 
When dinner is ready and the three of you are sitting together and eating, it does somehow get easier. The way Mingyu plays it off, the way he carries the conversation, the way he says he’s proud of Chan for finding such a nice girl, all of it makes you feel as though he’s decided to move forward. Like he’s genuinely okay with this, like he’s moved on and you were just a notch in his bedpost. 
Which, it’s true, but you can admit that you feel uneasy with the way he no longer looks at you the way he once did.
Which is good, for him at least. You think you’ve moved on too, at least in a logical sense, but you can’t help but feel a little stab in your heart each time Mingyu acts in support of this relationship. Not that you wanted him to fight for you, or to be mad, it’s just that you really thought that maybe the two of you had a little fire starting together. Given, you’re the reason that was snuffed out, who are you to feel even the slightest bit upset that he’s being a supportive father? 
After all, above all, he is the father of your boyfriend, and not just that notch in your bedpost. You have to co-exist with him for as long as you and Chan are together, it’s better that it’s this way.
There’s a relief in the way Mingyu appears to truly not mind. He still looks at you softly when your eyes do meet, but they’re not guilty or apologetic. This is how it’s supposed to be, it’s how it was always supposed to be. 
“So, are you guys sleeping over?” Mingyu asks, grabbing his glass and taking a sip to wash down a bite of his food before looking between the two of you. “Chan, I made up your bedroom and hooked up one of the gaming systems.”
Chan nods with a fond smile before looking at you and tilting his head in question. 
“Are you good to sleep over?” He asks you, hand going back to your thigh under the table and giving you another comforting squeeze. 
You don’t want to, but Chan is still obnoxiously bad at picking up hints, so when you shrug he smiles and nods. 
“Sounds good,” He smiles, looking back at his dad and taking another bite of his food. “This is nice.”
Mingyu hums in response.
“Yeah, it’s about time you brought someone home to meet me, I was starting to think you thought I was lame or something.”
Chan laughs, tipping his chair a bit as he pulls his hand from your thigh and slouches like the college boy he is. 
“You are lame,” Chan jokes in a chuckle. “But really, dad, I just didn’t click with anyone until now.”
Mingyu pauses and then gives Chan another smile and a nod. 
“That’s really good to hear.” He compliments, standing to his feet to take his dishes to the sink.
~
You try not to be too touchy with Chan while you’re here. You’re too hyper aware of what it feels like to be touched in this house and what it does to your mind. Unfortunately, Chan is the perfect type of boyfriend you would have yearned for before all of this happened. 
He’s touchy, he’s clingy, he’s needy. Honestly, he’s all over you after dinner. On the couch he used to drunkenly sleep on, his hand is planted to your thigh, drawing little hearts with his fingertips. His lips are constantly in search of yours when Mingyu sees himself out of the room, usually to grab a drink or to go to the bathroom. 
It’s not that you pull away, but you kind of do. He seems understanding enough, knowing that you likely just feel awkward being all touchy in his dad’s house.
“He’s not even in here,” Chan prods gently, kissing against your neck. “And you look so good today.” 
You both love and hate how into you he can be. It’s something you think you’ll give in to time and time again, but still, you feel like you’re morally at a wall when he does it here. 
Even by the time the two of you make your way to Chan’s old room, you find yourself staring at the door Mingyu has closed behind you several times. His door. You know the layout of his bedroom like the back of your hand, every creak of his floor, every pattern on his window curtains. 
The guilt stays with you the entire time you’re here, and you really just can’t wait to leave. It feels like you’re a prisoner of your own fucking brain at this point, and honestly? You want to go to sleep and not spend another waking moment with your fucking boyfriend within these walls, ever. It’s too overwhelming, too awkward, and in all honesty, kind of painful with the way Mingyu seems entirely unbothered.
You’re trying to be unbothered too, even as Chan lays you down in his old bed and crawls on top of you. 
“If we’re quiet...” He starts, trying to lean down to kiss you, trying to love you the way you usually like it. But he’s quick to take note of your body language, with the way you almost curl in on yourself as he makes his attempt. 
“Hey,” He soothes, rolling off of you and clinging to your side. “It’s okay.” He continues, whispering to you and peppering little kisses against your shoulder. “We don’t have to.”
You nod quietly, turning to face him and looking at him.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” You say, trying to make him feel less bad about it. “I just don’t think I can physically get turned on in your dad’s house.”
A lie. 
He chuckles at you with a nod. 
“Would you rather not sleep here tonight?” He asks, like, genuinely asks in a way to try and make things more comfortable. 
You nod, feeling a bit bad and like you’re making a big deal about it, even though to him, you’re not. 
“Come on, we can go back to your place.” He says, both of you still very much awake and not entirely ready for bed anyway.
“Won’t he wonder why we’re leaving?” You ask, tilting your head. “I mean, he made up your room and everything.” You nod your head to the gaming system sitting untouched, ready for use. 
“Nah, he’s just nice like that. He won’t mind.”
And, well, Mingyu really didn’t seem to care. Which, arguably, makes you feel stupid for being worried about it at all.
In fact, he barely gave either of you a nod when Chan opened the familiar bedroom door to say goodbye for the night. Both of you waving politely to him with no excuse or reason as to why you’re not staying. 
You’re aware that Mingyu knows why though. Which is probably why he didn’t offer an ounce of care or confusion when the two of you inevitably stood at his door to tell him. 
At the end of the day? This visit was tortuous only because you made it so. In your head, it’s hard to pretend. Fortunately though, Mingyu seems to have no fucking problem forgetting that you’ve ever spent a single moment alone with him. 
You try not to hurt over it.
~
Chan has this effect over you where as long as the two of you are together, he calms you to the point that you almost forget about Mingyu entirely. That is, of course, until you’re actually face to face with Mingyu himself and you have no other choice but to recognize the choices you’ve made. 
Thankfully, there isn’t much of a reason to be around him despite being in a committed relationship with his son, and that only gives you more of a reason to fall back into a comfortable mind state the second you’re out of that all too familiar childhood home of your boyfriend. 
Every single time, without fail and completely without intention, Chan manages to remind you with every kiss and touch that you’re where you’re supposed to be. With him, beside him, under him, just…anywhere with him. It feels so right when your brain isn’t running a mile a minute over the hidden secrets within yourself. 
You can genuinely say that Chan makes you happy. You can even say that you’ve never been happier in a relationship with another person. Never more comfortable, never more safe. So, when the two of you are invited to a semester-end party over at Jihoon’s place just a week later, it’s natural that both of you jump for the opportunity. 
After all, it’s been a while since you last attended a party at all, and Chan has since calmed down as well once the two of you got exclusive. It’s nice, really, without the alcohol flowing and heightened emotions. 
Every conversation from before, up to Chan asking you to be his girlfriend was sobering and pleasant. If anything, having a couple of drinks now that the two of you are falling into a routine together would be a nice change of pace for the night.
The two of you deserve this relaxation together anyway, for sure you do. After how you felt dealing with Mingyu face to face, after a rough semester, after fucking passing your exams, fuck yes you’re going to go to this party and let loose with a boyfriend you’re growing to love so dearly. 
You can tell Chan is excited too by the glint in his eye and that fond smile as he watches you get dressed and ready beside him.
“I won’t drink much so we can go back to my place and cuddle up later?” is what he whispered to you as you pinned your hair out of your face. You were happy to hear him take responsibility for what used to be a somewhat of a drinking problem. 
Unfortunately, his promise of not drinking much became more and more empty as the night went on.
For the first hour, he seemed to stick to his words. Sipping on one single drink up until the end of the hour and he goes for another. Then another, and another, up until he goes off for “one more” only to be lost in the crowd of people wandering around jihoon’s frat house. 
You stand in wait, swaying to the beat with a mere drink and a half sloshing around in your belly as you think to yourself. It’s okay. He’s just letting loose for the first time in weeks and you don’t want to seem like a pushy girlfriend or a mood kill during the middle of a party that you both very much deserve to attend.
You and Chan being in the relationship doesn’t mean neither of you get the freedom to have fun and get absolutely plastered, even if there was a slight promise of doing no such thing. You want him to have fun after the stressful semester. Especially considering how you had to practically force him to study just so he could get his GPA up. 
You want him to not feel guilty for drinking a little too much like he’s done so many times before. If anything, you need to be the supportive girlfriend, letting him lean on you and leave slobbery, wet kisses down your jaw through drunken slurs of love and adoration towards you. 
Are you a bit disappointed? Yes, of course you are. But you also don’t mind going with the flow, so flow you do. Back and forth through the rooms, mingling with Jihoon, Joshua, that one guy, and that other girl. You’re having a great time chatting it up with relaxed and giggly friends, feeling like maybe you could even use another drink or two, up until– oh.
Chan. Right there against the back door with some pretty drunken girl petting on his arm. Giggling, dipping her face, all while he says something to her with the same snicker and smirk he typically gives to you during a date or just before an intimate moment with you.
Suddenly, you remember when you let that fleeting crush on him dwindle as time passed. Sure, partially it was because of Mingyu but there was still another side to it. This side of Chan. When he’s drunk and entirely out of his mind around pretty girls and strong beverages. Always so single looking, always so flirty, never picking up hints.
He never picked up the hint that you liked him, and while he explained that away to you, watching him now makes you feel like all of those words were just to save face. He didn’t pick up the hints then, and he certainly isn’t picking up the hints now as your face falls to that of a frustrated glare. The girl notices, raises her brow at you, and then looks back at your boyfriend. 
Chan barely glances at you but when he does, it’s almost like you didn’t come here with him at all. It’s almost like neither of you ever even started dating in the first place. 
Is this all it takes? A couple of drinks and one pretty girl for him to lose all interest in you? What about you though? Is this all it takes for you to completely lose all interest? 
You’re the only one with a right to lose interest, arguably. 
Considering the way Chan looks at her, the way his hands reach for her. 
There, a girl who isn't you, to be specific. He practically ignores any hint of discomfort from you while simultaneously allowing this girl to cling all over him, run her fingers through his hair, and even so much as sipping from his drink. She glances at you again.
She fucking smirks at you.
You’re dumbfounded, appalled, and overwhelmed with rage within an instant as you stand and watch. Each person who steps in front of you or between you and your boyfriend appear to be entirely invisible as you watch, because you can’t recall a single second where you weren’t seeing the two of them up against that fucking door clear as day. 
It’s like he’s reverted back to every doubt you ever had about him, that safety you had started growing accustomed to being ripped out from under you by some woman who you’re sure he hasn’t even caught the name of yet. 
Does it hurt? Tremendously for the amount of time you’ve been with him. A few weeks shouldn’t hurt this badly to lose. 
And it’s not hard, really, to take what’s yours, or rather to throw away what’s supposed to be yours. It never really has been when it comes down to situations that force you to act on instinct. After all, Chan was the one who got serious with you. He’s the one who asked you to be exclusive. He’s the one who finally jumped in after you’d been dipping your toes in to encourage him for ages. 
And now, he’s going to fucking explain himself. You deserve to know why your boyfriend of just over a month and a half, who was previously your best fucking friend, manages to grow bored with you within the blink of an eye. If Chan can’t handle being in a relationship while alcohol is involved, he’s going to have a big decision to make. Right here. 
Right now. 
You make your way towards them, all while glaring at the woman with her hands in your boyfriend’s hair as she makes her pathetic attempts to dance sexy against him. Chan, on the other hand, is so fucking dazed and in his own world that you can argue you don’t know this man at all.
“Chan.” That’s all you say to have him raising a brow, looking at you as if you’re interrupting something. 
“What’s up babe?” He responds nonchalantly, smiling at you and leaning into the girl. 
You pause, taking a breath as you stare them both down with a grimace.
“Can you leave?” You demand more than ask towards the girl, and she scoffs only for a moment before Chan takes it upon himself to shrug her off of him and shake her away. 
You watch as she rolls her eyes and walks away, and never in your life have you wanted to slap another woman so badly. The worst part is that it isn’t even her fault that this is happening. Chan clearly didn’t tell her that he, you know, has a fucking girlfriend. 
“What the fuck was that?” You dead pan, staring straight at Chan and forcing him out of a state of bliss with your tone. 
“Babe, babe. Relax.” He slurs, smiling and chuckling throughout the words. “Just having fun!” 
You stare at him dumbfounded. Offended. Fucking appalled yet again. 
“Are you joking?” You roll your eyes much like the woman did, crossing your arms and fidgeting on your feet. “If I’d known that you would suddenly become single from getting shitfaced then maybe we wouldn’t have come to the party at all.” 
“Oh, so now you want to control me?” Chan shoots back in another slur of words. “First you force me to study, now you’re trying to make me stop having fun? Such a fucking buzz-kill.” 
You sigh, unsure as to why you thought he wouldn’t be so stubborn. Then again, you know drunk Chan better than you do the sober one.
“I really thought that once we started dating, you’d be more mindful of this. Of us.” You nearly plead now, reaching for his cup only to watch him pull it out of your reach like a child. “You need to stop drinking.”
Chan just stares at you now. You watch him try to adjust his eyes forward, and already you’re aware that he’s seeing two of you. His expression gives you nothing more than a feeling of disgust, knowing well enough that drunk words are more truthful than the sober ones.
“Chan, you’re cheating on me already.” You try to explain the gravity of the situation again. 
“I’m not cheating. I told you, I was just having some fun.” He explains away with a dopey smile, moving his weight to his other leg and blatantly stumbling over nothing as he sways himself back into a shitty-show of drunken balance.
“Yes, because it’s fun to have another woman’s hands all over you when I’m literally right fucking here?”
Only now are you actually shocked by his response. 
All he does is shrug at you with that same smile. One you’d normally want to kiss right off of his face because it’s so cute and endearing. 
But no. Instead, you feel disgust. No hurt, no pain, just…you feel gross. Embarrassed, even.
“This is childish. We’ve barely been dating over a month.” You state as a fact, uncaring if he can process the words at all. “I’m not doing this. We’re done. Have Jihoon take you back to your place.” 
And before he can even fathom saying something back to you, you leave. 
~
It’s a very bad feeling to walk into a party arm in arm with someone you imagine being with for a long time, and then walking out of that same party not three hours later alone, and seemingly broken up. 
You meant what you said though, even if you could practically see your words go through one of his ears and out the other. It’s too early in the relationship to be dealing with that. Arguably, there should never be a time in a relationship actually, where you have to practically force someone out of your boyfriend’s too-welcoming grasp. 
Ah, it’s shameful really. Given that you did your best to be a good girlfriend to him despite what happened with his dad, yet he couldn’t even offer you the decency of at least pretending to love you while drunk? 
You really didn’t pay much mind to his drinking until now. You knew he was a bit of a mess before but most college kids are, you thought. Seeing it first hand and how it can impact your relationship though? Yeah, Chan has a drinking problem and it’s one you’re not willing to work through with him. 
Partially because you’re hurt by what he’s doing and partially because the guilt of everything that happened before you started dating stresses you the fuck out. 
Maybe it’s better that you keep your distance from not only Mingyu, but Chan too. 
And you know, that sounds like such a great idea. You could start over, you could find someone new and slowly get to know them before eventually falling in love, getting married, so on and so forth.
And as you simmer over the frustration, too, too sober, you jump into your car and start driving. Where? You’re not sure. The path you’re going doesn’t lead to home at all, but you continue nonetheless. Paying too-close attention to each stop sign and red light, until–
Well.
Is it really so shocking to find yourself here of all places? 
It’s a quick trip up the steps and the knocks you lend the door are even quicker. 
There’s so much resentment inside of you at this moment when none other than Mingyu creaks the front door open. His son just fucked you over, his son was supposed to be a good boyfriend, his son just threw you away for some girl at a fucking frat party and you want to know why. 
Sure, you should be standing in front of Chan right now to get the answers, but you’re not. You’re here. You’re fucking here, on Mingyu’s front porch, glaring at him much like you’d be glaring at his son.
Mingyu, on the other hand, is shocked to see you at his door by yourself. He reluctantly lets you inside without a word spoken. He sees the expression on your face and can’t help but feel the anxiety in his gut bubble up to his throat. 
There’s tension in the air as he looks at your eyes, noting that they appear to be a bit raw. 
“What happened?” Mingyu asks, standing by the door with a look of concern as you make your way to his kitchen as if you have the right. “Where’s Chan?” He adds in a voice with even more concern. 
To you, as you sigh and look at him when he makes his way into the kitchen behind you, all you can see is that same protective father from the night you and Chan almost slept over. 
“I broke up with him.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how glassy and wet they feel. 
No, you won’t cry over this. 
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” He tilts his head with question, and you know he has more to say about it but you don’t really care to indulge him right now. 
“Did you raise him to be that way?” You ask, looking down and feeling frustrated. “To get bored of a relationship after a few weeks?”
Part of you knows these words include double edged swords. Who else would Chan have learned this from, anyway? With Mingyu and his all-too-caring hands acting like there’s a fucking spark somewhere in the room when you’re with him to Chan doing the exact same thing only to have both of them act as if you moving on isn’t a bother? 
“I most certainly did not teach him that.” Mingyu defends himself with a huskier tone than he’s ever used with you before. “What did he do?” 
“This girl was all over him tonight and when I split it up he got annoyed with me over it.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you plop down on a bar stool. “Practically told me I was trying to control him, so I broke up with him.”
“Ah,” Mingyu nods, leaning against the counter. “He must have been drinking. I did tell him he needed to slow down on it, but he doesn’t exactly listen to me.”
“He doesn’t listen to fucking anyone.” You throw your arms up, eyes threatening to tear up against your will. 
Not because you’re sad, but for so many reasons aside from that. One, you just broke up with Chan. Two, you ran to fucking Mingyu over it? Three, you miss Mingyu and that’s the obvious reason as to why you’re here but that doesn’t make it right. And, well, four, the fact that he didn’t immediately smile and kiss you upon learning you’re single again is beyond frustrating.
Mingyu really did move on. 
He really did let you cut it off.
There’s a long moment of silence before you hear Mingyu sigh and look at you, studying your face with a tense jaw.
“Well,” He starts, “Is there a reason you came here over this? I don’t know what you want me to say.”
You’re not sure why those words shock you, but they do. In reality, from outside of yourself anyway, you can see how strange it must be that you came running to snitch on Chan. What’s worse is that Mingyu probably thinks you have some sort of ulterior motive behind being here. 
Which, yeah, maybe you did. In your rush of frustrations even you didn’t understand why you ended up here over this. Maybe part of you did want the comfort from him. Maybe you do want him to side with you, and hug you close despite being the one who broke it off. 
Still, Chan did fuck up. 
What part of your breakup should lend you the opportunity to come running back here though? You ghosted Mingyu to date his son. What gives you the right to be sitting in his kitchen right now? What do you expect him to say about all of this? 
“Oh, I’m so sorry babe, let me make it better.” or “I knew he couldn’t treat you the way I can.” 
Ah, fantasies. All of them are fantasies. As much as you’d love for Mingyu to say these things to you, realistically, he wouldn’t. 
He couldn’t. 
And somehow, knowing that and realizing it hurts a little more than breaking up with Chan. It’s proof that Mingyu lost interest in you too. Hell, you’re sure he lost interest the second he learned of you dating Chan. Given that he was suspiciously supportive of it, and that he even seemed happy about it? 
Perhaps he was just happy that whatever you and him had going on was over. Maybe he was relieved that he didn’t have to ghost you himself. 
Maybe you were stupid to involve yourself in any of this. Stupid to so boldly seduce Mingyu, stupid to willingly jump into a relationship with Chan, stupid to somehow believe that Mingyu would care at all about the situation as a whole. 
You guess the two really are alike, and that Mingyu did raise Chan to be cold and uncaring when the mood strikes him. 
“I guess you’re right.” You sigh, sniffling once and wiping your face before shooting up and onto your feet. “I really shouldn’t have come here.” You avoid his eye contact, feeling too many emotions to be willingly seen right now. “and I think I should go home.” 
He looks at you, nodding slowly.
“Yeah, that would be best.”
Stupid. You feel so fucking stupid. 
And as Mingyu watches you turn away from him, he can hear your sniffles. The way your shoulders tense to try and hide that you’re feeling embarrassed and utterly pathetic, he tries not to give in to that emotion. 
Yeah, you guys had sex. He knew it was wrong, but even so, he would still feel a pull in his chest to find his son’s girlfriend crying in his kitchen over something that happened. Whether he slept with you or not, it’s only human to want to comfort someone. 
But he can’t. Given the circumstances, if Mingyu so much as closes distance, he fears that you’ll see it as an invitation. Or perhaps, he will treat it as one himself. Now isn’t the time, and never should it have been time to invite you into his bed the way he did previously. 
He needs to be careful in this situation, regardless of how his heart pulls. 
Never did he want to see you hurting internally like this. 
And so, he tries to leave it alone. He tries to block out the sound of your shuffled footsteps walking away from him, and even harder does he try to block out those silenced sniffles from you. 
You feel so out of it as you make your way to the door. How you got into this situation isn’t too difficult to understand though. It was so easy to fall into it, and goddamn did it feel good at first. Now though? Ah, it hurts. 
Sure, you liked a guy and he turned out to be an asshole. That’s something that has and will happen to you time and time again, but you guess the whole fucking his dad thing makes it a lot worse in your head. 
Even so, you don’t know why you thought you could come to Mingyu for comfort. Like he’d wisp you off your feet and throw his own child under the bus. Your ego needed a check, and goddamn did both of these guys give it to you. 
That’s his son and you’re just…a girl. 
To think you’re really alluring enough to keep Chan from straying his eye…to think you’re enough to get Mingyu to side with you and touch you again? 
So fucking stupid. 
And god, this walk to Mingyu’s front door feels damning. You swear hours pass with each step but you’re sure it’s only been a few seconds. 
You realize that when you step past that front door, it’ll be the last time you’ll ever be in this house. The last time you’ll ever feel the gravel of this driveway under your tires, the last time Mingyu will ever see you walk away from him. 
It wells up inside you when you reach for the doorknob, unable to wait much longer to just move on from all of this. You want to lock it all behind this front door, instead of living with it yourself, forcing Mingyu to do it instead. 
Then, in a sudden twist of fate, you feel your body shiver at a rush of cold air behind you followed by warm arms wrapping you up entirely. 
You feel as if the breath is knocked out of you at the feeling, that cold door knob in your palm radiating with heat now as your hand is pulled away from it. You’re pulled from the door entirely, actually, and a rush of emotions hits you when you feel Mingyu’s broad chest against your back. 
You can’t help it. 
The tears on your cheeks are more from frustration than sadness, and you’re quick to try and wipe the arms that the tears fall against, but he still just holds you there. Strong arms forcing you into a reality that felt so far out of reach just moments before, forcing those warm tears to continue falling out of disbelief now, rather than frustration. 
You’d love to believe that this is just your mind playing tricks on you. Knowing you came here just to see if Mingyu would let you waste another night without Chan and with him. Running on emotions, really. It’s a trait you should probably work on, but really. You do wish it wasn’t real. That these arms around you really are just phantom weight that your heart is conjuring up. 
That the chin dropping to your left shoulder isn’t a man that’s been violating your thoughts time and time again. 
That this isn’t exactly what you want.
“Don’t hate me.” Mingyu whispers against his better judgment. He can’t help it though, the need to think of himself upon watching you touch that fucking doorknob hit him harder than anything else could have just moments ago. 
He never wanted to be in competition with his son, but fuck. He wants to at this point. He knows he can be what you need and he wants to be what you need so badly. Does he understand why? Of course he doesn’t. Something about this is so wrong and he knows exactly why it’s wrong. Does it stop him though? 
It almost did. 
“I don’t want you to leave here hating me.” He continues. 
The whisper against your neck feels so warming, sending goosebumps all over your body but you try to stay where you are. Even with your knees buckling under you, even when he holds you up and tighter against him. 
It’s the first time in several weeks since you’ve felt these arms around you. And fuck, you thought you’d be able to get over how they feel, you really thought that this heavy and overwhelmingly gentle grip would be a thing of the past. After all, it’s all you needed it to be, but here you are, feeling heartbroken over the fact that you kept yourself from this for far too long already.
You feel butterflies in your stomach flutter up to your throat, swallowing around a pathetic whimper of emotional release. 
“Just stay the night.” Mingyu adds after hearing your whimper, somehow holding you impossibly closer. 
You stand frozen, listening to his words and wondering if this is real. You feel too warm to pretend it’s not happening though, and it takes a moment to work up the courage to turn in his grasp. 
You almost forgot what it felt like to not be teased or played with. Chan really was so playful with you, to the point that it almost felt cruel at times. Mingyu though, the way he steps back and gives you the space to simply look at him? Gives you the time and space to contemplate the situation and decide whether or not you want to navigate it at all? 
At this moment, looking at him and his apologetic stare, seemingly feeling sorry that you’re going through what you’re going through while simulationaly wanting you, you can’t help but let the feelings for Chan die once and for all. 
If you’re really about to do this with Mingyu, you can’t do the back-and-forth again. You have to choose, and the choice is so fucking obvious. 
Arguably, it’s always been obvious. 
And as you keep eye contact with Mingyu, you can see something in his head break. That softened look in his eye turning to something….unabashedly crazed. As if to tell you to take the reins before he does it himself. It serves as a pleasant reminder that you’re not the only one weak when it comes to being alone together. 
You’re not the only one with guilt, temptation, and lack-of-care for morals when the two of you are together. 
You’re not alone in this. 
Mingyu is falling just as quickly as you are. 
Tumbling, spinning, fucking rolling in the idea that this doesn’t have to end. 
Honestly, with the matching gaze, Mingyu almost wishes you would walk away from this. From him. He almost wishes you could be smarter than he is in this situation. Wishes you were stronger than him and stronger than this. 
But he’s thankful that you’re not, because having the ability to watch you blink up at him like this again is flooring. In fact, he’s spent countless nights trying to push this very image out of his head due to respect for his son. 
Where is that respect now? 
Nowhere within him, and god is he thankful for it. Why should he have respect for a relationship that’s no longer there? Why should he continue to deny, deny, deny? 
He’s not in denial anymore, not with those pretty eyes looking at him like this. Not with those lips parting for each hopeful breath. Not with those hands gripping onto him for dear life, hoping for nothing more than a hug but knowing there’s so much more behind said hug. 
God, he’s melting again. For you, he’s fucking melting. 
“You need to tell me to stop, right now,” He says in a hopeless whisper, as if someone else can hear him. “Because I’m tired of pretending I have self control around you.”
And you react to those words with another pretty blink and a short shake to your head. Solidifying that he isn’t alone in the need, that he isn’t insane to want this, that he isn’t hated by you. 
It doesn’t take much, really, for him to take a step backwards. He can feel you walk with him, so he continues, walking back, back, back. Your body instinctively follows him, and you think you would follow him to the ends of the earth if you could. 
Back. Back. Back. Until the two of you are in the kitchen again, and his back hits the kitchen counter, sending a roll of paper towels to topple over and fall onto the floor. Neither of you pay attention to it, and instead hold each other in wait. 
When he drops his hands slightly, loosening his grip around your waist, he breathes out once before licking his bottom lip and fixing his gaze on your lips. 
To think either of you have self control at this moment is insane. He knows it, you know it, and god fucking damn, the entire universe would know it if they could so much as feel the electricity in this room. 
A single blink more up at him leaves him nearly breathless. No more waiting, no more offering space for if you want to pull away. No more outs. He swoops down and lands his lips on yours like he never stopped before. Like it’s natural, like this is where his lips are supposed to be. 
And all he can think of at this moment is hoping you never tell him to stop. Hoping that you’re both lost in this situation enough to experience something together just once more, if that’s all it can be. Even if this is all the two of you can be, he wants it. For as long as he can have it, he fucking wants it. 
You feel that want through his harsh kisses. Like he’s trying to swallow you up, so intimate with it, so into it. Pouring his whole soul into the way he moves his tongue against yours, the experience behind the way he breathes as he kisses is just as flooring as it always has been. Even now, you don’t compare it to the way Chan kissed you. Mingyu became the standard for everything in your head before, and it was silly for you to ever think someone else could take over that role. There is no comparing Mingyu to anyone else.
Silly, silly fucking thoughts. Logical thinking be damned, Mingyu was the logical choice all along. Morality bringing him down to a fucking notch in your bedpost? An insult. There’s something here, and to ever think that the two of you “just fucked” is so demeaning and belittling. 
You knew there was something there. And now, he’s proving it after spending too much time pretending that he couldn’t. 
You feel him move you, pushing forward, deepening the kiss and still managing to spin both of you around so that he’s pinning you against the counter now. 
“Missed the way you held onto me,” he says breathlessly, lifting your leg and holding it against his waist. “Missed the way you look at me.” He adds, more mindlessly than he has ever been, seemingly lost in the moment with you. “The way you just came into my bedroom and– fuck, i think about it so much.” 
No words have ever hit your heart so hard before. As if all this time he was pretending to be okay with your relationship. As if he did care, probably too much. 
As if he truly did miss you. 
And he proves it with every breath, grasp, kiss, and movement. It’s like he doesn’t have enough time in the world actually, to have you up against him like this. He almost rushes himself with it, pressing you more against the counter than against himself now. 
It only takes a few seconds for him to hoist you up on the counter and shrink down himself. Now he’s the one blinking up at you with fond concern on his face, fingers tugging at your shorts to imply he needs them fucking gone ten minutes ago. 
Your breath hitches for what you think could be the millionth time since you got here, but you lend him a little lift to get your shorts and panties off in one go. 
“Ahh,” He coos after tossing your clothing to the side mindlessly, both hands gripping your legs and spreading them wide as he stands back up to his full height and fits himself against you again. “Still so pretty,” He continues his string of compliments to you, dipping his head down just to get another taste of your lips on him.
His mind is entirely unsure of what to do first now that your bottoms are off, really. He’s spinning for you, and his hands search and grip all over you at the very idea that you’re propped up on his kitchen counter right now. 
The same counter he used to cook dinner for you and his son. 
Like a fucking dream.
And you can feel how hard he is when he presses against you more and more. His kiss so deep, his hips against you and reminding you of everything he’s made you feel before. Already you feel like you’re flying, but you know better than anyone that he has all the ability in the world to make you feel as if you’re fucking soaring. 
“Mingyu–” You choke out between kisses, trying to get a word in. “Let me.”
And just like the first time he ever felt your hands on him, he feels the way your palm slides down and cups his length to its best ability. His eyes go blank, the feeling so familiar and good to him that all he can do is throw his head back with a breathy chuckle. 
“Fuck, missed you.” He states as if it’s final, pressing his hips more and more against your palm as he dips right back down to kiss you even harder than before. “You have no idea.”
And then it’s like a spiral of messy, wet kisses, and his hips going from needy thrusts against your weak hand to suddenly having your hands gripping the edge of the counter as he sinks down and just…
“God,” You gasp at the first feeling of his warm tongue. “Mingyu…” 
He’s not tasting, he’s devouring. 
And he doesn’t respond, instead, he flutters his eyes shut and breathes deeply through his nose so that he never needs to pull his tongue out of you again. 
It’s like he can’t get enough of it. Never has he missed the taste of a woman on him like this, so wet and pretty when he’s licking. More and more dripping out of you just for him to swallow up and daydream about later. 
His tongue has a mind of its own at this moment when he flicks and sucks every part of you he can reach. Your clit only abandoned momentarily so he can lick deep into you before trailing back up with a deep and heavenly sigh of relief. 
His hands remain at your thighs, gripping you so tightly that you can tell he’s afraid you may dissolve in front of him. That all of this is just some wet dream that he’ll wake up from just before his own release. 
But no, you’re here. In the flesh, feeling this grip and feeling that feverish tongue greedily eat you from the inside out. Both of you are seemingly overwhelmed with the fact that it’s happening again. Or rather, finally you’re together again. 
And you can’t help it when your fingers find purchase in his hair, moaning out and echoing his name against his kitchen walls. He moans alongside you, feeling those gentle fingers scratch against his scalp in such a sweet and pleasurable way. 
If he could show you how much he needs this, he would. But this is all he can do for you to prove it, and he hopes that it’s enough. 
It isn’t long before he’s losing composure, flicking his tongue so fast against your clit that you can’t help but overpower his grip and close your legs around his head. He chuckles against your clit at that, keeping up with the assault of his tongue, listening to the way you pant above him, feeling you pull his hair, all while your legs unintentionally choke him out.
Fuck, it’s too good. You’re too good.
So, he continues and laps away like his life depends on it up until you practically lift from the counter, using your legs around his shoulders as your only form of balance when you press so hard against his tongue that all he can do is press back.
He has no breath at this moment, sucking your clit so hard into his mouth that his cock, quite literally, nearly explodes in his pants right then and there at the sheer desperation you share with him at this moment. 
And then your legs instantly loosen and you fall limp against the counter, your cum pouring out of you with each clench and shake of your body. It takes everything in him to pull his tongue away, but fuck, he needs to swallow those pretty, whined little sounds you’re giving to him. 
Quickly, he slides two fingers into you, fucking them in hard just to feel the clench of you through your orgasm, and his lips are immediately sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. 
Your mouth is slack as he tastes each sound, out of breath himself as he tries to lend all of his power behind his fingers, pulling more sounds from you before sinking them in one last time and leaving them there as he kisses the last of your orgasm out of you. 
“Shh,” He shushes you when he uses his other arm to pull you closer to him, which only forces his fingers deeper into you. “Baby, shh.” He continues to soothe you through it, still kissing, still feeling your slick gush around his fingers. “You’re shaking.” 
That little chuckle he lets out when he says those words brings you back to reality, the body-shocks of your orgasm finally subsiding just to tune in to the lack of guilt he feels. In fact, he seems proud. 
And he fucking should feel proud.
“Fuck,” You breathe against his lips, wiggling your hips and only then feeling embarrassed by the pool of wet you’re sitting in. “Mingyu, fuck.” 
He finally pulls back, keeping his fingers in you still, and tilts his head at you. 
“Mm,” He hums, nodding to himself. “Did you forget?” 
You blink at him in a daze, clenching his fingers unintentionally and wincing at the jolt of pleasure the pads of his fingers offer to your g-spot. You find yourself shaking your head, despite not knowing what the fuck either of you are saying right now. 
“Forget how much I love using my mouth on you?” He whispers it in such a filthy and deep whisper that almost instantly you’re clenching your legs around his hand. And he only chuckles again.
“Come here–” He says this time, pulling you from the counter and quickly holding you up on shaky legs. “Hold on to me, sweetheart.”
Ah, memories rush to your mind. He’s said that to you before only this time there’s more behind it. You cling to him easily even as he dips his hand down and leaves no room for question when he skews his sweatpants down. 
“Leg,” He whispers now, wrapping an arm around you and tapping the bottom of your right thigh. “Up.” 
And you listen to his directions in a daze, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist as he uses a strong hand to hold you up. Both of your arms shoot around his neck when you feel it, the tip of his cock being tapped against your still sensitive clit. 
“You okay?” He asks one last time, holding you so close to him that he truly can’t help but buck forward before you lend him any sort of answer. 
Your head falls against his shoulder with a frantic nod, and his body moves on its own as a response. He immediately presses his hips forward and up while simultaneously sitting you right back into your mess from before. There, you fall back against both of your palms and wrap both of your legs around his waist when you feel the stretch. 
It’s so strange to know this familiar feeling of him sinking into you, and somehow you think you love it more now than you ever did before. 
He’s quick to lean over you with a slack jaw and low rumble of a moan, one arm wrapping around your waist to scoot you forward on him when he starts to move his hips. 
Slowly at first. Just feeling you again. 
His mouth remains slack, throat drying out at all of the sounds he wants to give you. God, you’re so wet for him always. The fit is so good. The way your pussy grips him with each drag out, only to pulse around him with each push in. 
“You always take it so well–” He chokes out with another low moan, snapping his hips forward to quicken his pace. “Fuck, don’t ever–” He stumbles over his words, trying to hold them back but unintentionally saying more and more with each moaned out breath. “Don’t leave like that again.”
The words hit you harder than anything else right now. Even as he plunges his cock in and out of you so deep, it pulls nothing more than a whimper out of you with a quick shake of your head. You shoot up, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers buried into his hair. 
Instantly you cry. Like you needed to hear Mingyu do more than just ask or plead. You need him to tell you what he wants. You need a threat. A demand. 
“That’s it baby,” He smiles against your ear, pressing in deep and flexing his cock to stretch your walls out around him. “Hold onto me.”
And you do. You hold him as tightly as you can, feeling him and only him at this moment. 
He only moves faster after that, fucking into you with more force than you ever remember him doing before. He presses into you so hard, and pulls out even faster, only to press back in harder, and harder, and harder. 
Over and over again until you’re practically yelping through each thrust. Until he’s releasing small, animalistic grunts. 
Until he can’t do it anymore. This position, in this room? It’s not enough. 
He lifts you easily, loving the way you cling to him like a goddamn koala, keeping his cock buried into you as he walks you quickly to his couch. You land against the soft cushions in a mess of movements, and his hardened chest lands against you just a moment later. 
As if he never stopped, he’s right back to dragging his hips back and forth, this time with more comfort, and his lips immediately fall to your neck. 
His hands? Right up your shirt, groping, pinching, pushing, pulling. 
He’s going absolutely insane, spiraling into a world of nothingness with you as he plunges into you like his life depends on it. Grunting and breathing you in and out, feeling his own weeping cock yearn to be deeper, deeper, fucking deeper in you.
You can’t even think straight, unable to remember if he’s ever been with you like this before. Your mind is so foggy, so in love with the man on you right now that you don’t really even care. 
People always say that actions speak louder than words. Never once did you imagine that a person could move this way with you and speak so loudly with skin alone.
Never have you felt so wanted.
Never have you been so needed. 
And he doesn’t stop. His hips keep pace with each moan against you, his hands search and find, only to search again and grip you so tightly that you fear he will leave swollen imprints. 
You don’t mind. In fact, you want nothing more than to have Mingyu lose himself with you. Still, you can’t muster up any coherent words for him right now, because every sound you make is broken and dripping with the need for more of him. 
Forever more, nothing less. 
“God,”  He breathes out when he looks down at you, hips still moving at a painful pace. “When you look at me like that–”
His eyes roll back for a moment mid sentence before he’s heaving in a breath and his hips slow to a long and languid drag.
“When you look at me like this, it’s so hard to not–” He holds his words back with a shameful chuckle, shutting himself up with a kiss to your lips as he furrows his brows and puts his focus back into his deep thrusts. 
His words run circles in your head though, finishing his sentence for him in so many blissful ways that you feel your body tense at the pure excitement. Feeling his hips spread your legs with each thrust, making you feel sore all over, all of it, excitement.
“Hard not to, what?” You manage to breathe out against his lips, and his hips stutter at the way your voice breaks with each press into you. 
“Don’t.” He nearly pleads, pulling his hands from you and instead using them to rest at both sides of your head, balancing all of his weight there as he drops his forehead to yours. “Don’t encourage me right now.” 
You blink your eyes at him when he lifts his head again, feeling the way he slows his hips to a stop only to hold himself in place, throbbing inside of you. His eyes remain on yours, as if he wants you to challenge every word he says to you right now. 
“Hard not to–” You breathe out, feeling him snap his hips as if to warn you. “What? Mingyu.” 
He stares into your eyes, sucking his bottom lip in as he tries to remain composed. You only clench tighter around him though, causing a sort of sobbed groan to leave his throat this time.
“Tell me.” You whisper this time, clenching around him again and shifting your own hips to fuck yourself on him. 
His eyes squeeze shut as he drops his forehead against yours once more, chuckling out another moan at how impossible you are to him. 
“It’s hard to think I don’t want this.” He admits in a shaky breath, feeling the way you slide his cock in and out of you with pleasurable ease. “You.” He continues. “Hard to believe I’d ever be satisfied with you doing this with anyone other than–” 
You pause, clenching unintentionally only to feel him take over again, dangerously close to his own orgasm. 
“Me.” He finally says, cutting you off from responding by lifting from you entirely, angling his hips, and fucking dragging his hips back and forth just to send pointed japs against your g-spot. 
After being so…protective? Or possessive, maybe? He can’t help but feel embarrassed by his intense need to have you. Not just now, no. Not just because he’s horny out of his mind for you, but because he’s already felt the frustration of not having you while you stood in front of him. 
With your hand wrapped with his son’s. 
Never again. 
He wants this more than you know, more than he should ever admit to you.
“Mingyu–” You try to get out, but he throws a hand forward, more forceful than he’s ever been when he slips two fingers into your mouth just to keep you from enticing more truth from him. 
The way you suck in those fingers with a moan is enough to drive him over the edge, but he tries to hold off. 
He really tries. 
But he can’t, as he falls forward with his fingers loosely hanging from your still licking mouth, and there, he empties himself entirely into you. 
“Fuck–” He groans in frustration, his body jolting with each pulse. “You’re so–” 
You can feel each pulse and push of his thick ropes of cum, shooting inside of you only to squelch out with each little push his hips offer. And his face, nuzzled so close against your neck now that you can feel the way his breath stutters with each wave of the orgasm. 
All the way until he manages to lift with dizzy eyes, pulling his hips back to leave you empty as his cum drips out and onto the couch. 
There, he stares down at what he’s done to you before panic washes over him. 
It’s too late to go back now.
“You’re so–”
Silence, as every thought leaves his mind when he looks at you. How could he have ever formed words in the first place when you look up at him like this? 
Like he’s the whole world. 
~
The next morning, you sleep deeply next to Mingyu in the bed you missed so much. With the scent of him surrounding you and the weight of his arm thrown over you. His big and heavy limbs holding you close even in his deep sleep is enough to keep you locked into your own restful sleep. 
You feel so safe, so warm, so comfortable. Like this is where you belong. 
Nothing inside of you pulls with anxiety at this. In fact, you’re entirely too happy over the fact that you found yourself here the night before. Who cares about the circumstances anyway? 
And as you lay there, half-asleep to roll over and nuzzle your nose against his neck, you breathe in deeply, lulling yourself back to sleep in his warmth.
That is, until you hear a ‘click’ of his doorknob turning and instantly you feel your full heart shrivel to almost dust. 
“You’re fucking joking.” 
Oh my god. The fear of opening your eyes is intense but you know that voice like the back of your hand. Your eyes open against your own will and your body turns over to see Chan, standing right there at the door with a murderous glare directed at you. 
You wish it took you longer to process his figure, because honestly, you were feeling so warm in Mingyu’s grip, but now Mingyu, himself, is aggressively pulling himself away from you and rolling out of the bed. 
He’s standing to his feet instantly as if he wasn’t just attached to you at the fucking cock. On the plus side, at least, he put on sweatpants before the two of you fell asleep together. Unfortunately, he also put one of his shirts on you to sleep in too. 
What Chan is seeing in front of him is nothing that either of you can explain away. 
“You’re fucking my dad.” Chan deadpans with a bite in his voice, standing there as he heaves in a breath that seems to get more and more angry as the seconds pass.
“We broke up.” You manage to mutter out, unaware of how to handle a situation like this but knowing deep down that if you continue to see Mingyu, he still would have found out eventually. “You cheated on me, remember?”
Chan rolls his eyes at you.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves you off just to adjust his eyes over to Mingyu, his father.
Mingyu, towering on the other side of his bed, looks apologetic. He’s unable to explain himself because what Chan is seeing right now is really the only explanation he needs. 
“You’re fucking my girlfriend?”
“We broke up!” You cut in again as you repeat yourself with a louder voice, standing from the bed and attempting to walk up to him. Mostly to try and avert his eyes from his father.
The way his eyes look straight past you and at Mingyu is terrifying enough to have you stumble back once you get too close though. It’s like Chan is seeing red, and arguably he has every right considering if anyone should be scolded, it’s definitely you. 
“Chan,” Mingyu tries to soothe the conversation as he finally processes what is happening, his voice coming out calm and collected. Not wanting this to escalate, in fact, dead set on making damn sure that it doesn’t escalate.
Another harsh shake of his head, another roll of his eyes, and then he’s fixing his gaze back on you. 
“You looked pretty comfortable, how long?”
You look to the floor, then turn to look at Mingyu. Both of you look entirely guilty, surely, but there’s something in you that feels proud. Maybe even relieved that it’s out in the open. After all, like you’ve already said twice, you broke up with him. And for good reason, mind you. 
“Why does that matter?” You answer with a bite to your tone now, essentially answering his question. 
“You cheated on me?” His voice raises, “With my dad, and still have the audacity to be upset with me over some girl at a party?!” 
“No.” Mingyu speaks up. “We stopped. Last night was the first time since–”
“Am I supposed to appreciate that?!” Chan laughs out of dumbfounded rage, stumbling back and out of the doorway with a shake to his head. As if his eyes have to be deceiving him. “What do you mean ‘we stopped.’ ?!” 
Chan feels overwhelmed. Like, he knew he fucked up with the way he acted, and really, he does care about you but what in the fuck? This is what he gets for trying to fix it? For coming to his dad first thing in the goddamn morning for advice? This is really what he gets? To see you, all cuddled in and smiling with that stupid fucking pretty face, in his own father’s t-shirt? 
Fuck that. 
He immediately turns on his heel and stomps towards the front door.
“Chan, hold on!” You call out, gripping his jacket to keep him from leaving. “I was the one who came onto him! Mingyu didn’t even–” 
“Mingyu.” He repeats the way you say his father’s name when he turns to face you, disgusted by how naturally it came from your lips. “What else do you call him?” 
You stand there in awe, looking even more guilty. You remember how Mingyu told you just to call him by his name, and so that’s all you ever called him. Never any pet names like what Chan is implying.
“Did you whine and cry for it like you always do for me?”  He seethes out, inching his face closer and closer to yours. “Was it worth every second?” 
“That’s enough,” Mingyu starts, walking up between the two of you and pulling your hand off of his son’s jacket. “Chan, that’s enough.”
Chan watches how gentle Mingyu is with your hand, eyeing how you let go the instant his fingertips touch your skin. His mind is fucking spinning in betrayal right now. 
“We need to calm down before we talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Chan barks back, nearly spitting in his father’s face at the way he acts like he’s not the one guilty. “You’ve been fucking my girlfiend.”
And oh, poor fucking Jihoon, standing off to the side with his mouth permanently open in shock. Honestly, Chan was anxious before coming here, questioning Jihoon over and over again on how to explain himself and fix what he fucked up. The last thing he expected was to see none other than Chan’s girlfriend rushing out of Mingyu’s room without pants on, fucking glowing with that after-sex dew.
Oh god. This sucks.
“Chan!” Mingyu raises his voice this time, grabbing his son by both shoulders and forcing him to look at him. 
And when Mingyu goes to try and explain himself, there’s nothing he can say. He simply looks at his son as his stoic face turns to that of realization. 
All Chan can do is laugh at the audacity before shrugging Mingyu’s hands off of him and glaring at you once more. 
“To think I wanted to fix things.” He breathes out, grimacing at you before shoving past you and going straight for the door. 
Chan knew he fucked up with you, but it’s not like he slept with the girl. Sure, he was in the wrong to flirt, and to let her be all over him like that, but he’s not the one who went off and fucked someone last night. The fact that you could have broken up with him and fucked literally anyone else is flooring to him. He would have forgiven you if you had it in your heart to forgive him first. 
But this? You not only went for his dad, but it hurts more knowing that his own father reciprocated?! More than once, apparently? 
You’re both guilty. 
You’re both disgusting. 
And with that, Chan slams the front door behind him and Jihoon is left staring at the shaking walls before turning to look between you and Mingyu.
Only then do you notice Jihoon there, widened eyes and a big gulp of air. 
“Fuck.” You groan, feeling dizzy and nearly falling to the floor right then and there. 
Jihoon is quick to see himself out of this awkward situation, and it’s not long before you hear the car peel out of the driveway and down the street. 
Fortunately, Mingyu is quick to come up behind you, hugging you as if everything that just happened wouldn’t stop him from touching you again. 
Or maybe you’re just too hopeful, because within an instant, his once warm hands feel cold and shaky against you. This hold on you feels…different.
Like it’s out of obligation, not out of want, or need. 
Instantly, you’re expecting him to end this right now. To end all of this with you, and it hurts more to think about how he should do that. You wouldn’t blame him, hell, no one would fucking blame him if that’s what this hug you’re getting from him is telling you. 
It hurts. Of course it hurts. The inevitable of what any rational person would do in this situation bubbling up as a mass of anxiety in your throat. You can only remain quiet, feeling the soreness take hold on your heart. 
Despite Chan being rightfully upset, despite what you’ve done, despite what Mingyu has done, you’re upset over it all simply because you can’t realistically be with Mingyu at the end of the day. No, not without ruining his life. 
Not without both of you losing Chan, and to even expect him to do that in the first place should have been your first red flag regarding yourself. 
You played them both, unintentionally, but with the best intentions at the end of the day. 
And when you feel him hold you closer, that soreness inside of you settles just a bit. All he has to do is drop his chin to your shoulder and talk against your neck with a shaking breath. 
“He’s not going to forgive either of us if we continue.” He whispers in a voice that seems both broken and firm at the same time. And he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling deep before releasing a drawn out sigh with a tighter hold on you. “I understand if you want to be with my son, but I won’t be able to pretend I’m happy for either of you from this point forward.” 
You pause, feeling the anxiety well up and jumble in your head. 
“Is this an ultimatum?” You shake yourself from his grasp, feeling overwhelmed, guilty, happy that he’s suggesting that maybe, just maybe, he’d fight to keep you for himself. 
But no. Instead, Mingyu stands tall, no longer shrinking himself to your size and glancing at you with a slow and stubborn shake of his head. Now, he’s unable to keep his eye trained on you, the weight and shame of what the two of you are doing is pushing him down, down, down.
“It’s wrong.” He explains as if you don’t know. The reality is that you do know, you just prefer not to listen. You prefer not to learn from this. “I can’t just pick you over my own son.” 
You try to step forward to try and keep him from speaking. You’d do anything to keep him from speaking right now, but he isn’t budging. He doesn’t break like he usually does when you’re this close, in fact, he takes a step back and away from you. 
You feel your heart hit the floor at that moment. 
“So, it’s not an ultimatum.” Your voice cracks. “I just lost both of you.” 
Mingyu can only nod, trying to ignore that crack in your voice and the tenseness in your shoulders. 
“Which, somehow, doesn’t shock me.” You lend a pained laugh at the situation alongside a sniffle. 
“Realistically.” Mingyu finally responds, his own voice wavering just for a moment. “I shouldn’t have given in, and I shouldn’t have led you on either. We both knew it couldn’t work.” 
Why do you feel blamed for this?
“And at this point, I can’t give approval of you pursuing my son either. There’s too much between us that has happened, I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you again.” 
“But what about everything from last ni-” You start, reaching forward and trying to grasp him, unaware that you’re about to start pleading.
“Don’t.” Mingyu’s voice wavers again when he says it, pulling away from you for what he hates for the last time. “Let’s just leave it.”
And with that, you’re left with no choice. 
You leave, realizing that Chan probably knew from the moment he pulled in considering your car sits in the driveway proudly. 
There’s nothing left here for you. 
~
Days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months with no contact from Chan nor Mingyu. Which, that much is expected but you were still hopeful for a few weeks there. 
Not even that you want Chan based on everything that’s happened, more so that you feel like he deserves the deepest apology you could possibly offer to another person. It appears he doesn’t want nor does he need it. Every text is met with the reminder that you’re blocked. 
In time, you try to move on too. Each day is becoming easier and easier to forget how you felt, which is insane considering how deep you thought it was originally. There’s still love there, somewhere, but you’re well aware now that there’s nowhere to put it, and there is no one who wants it either. 
So, you just…exist with it until it dwindles deep enough inside of you that laughing and meeting new people becomes easy. 
Chan, on the other hand, is moving away. Thanks to Jihoon and his pre-planned transfer for the next semester, Chan was quick to jump on the plan with him and try his damndest to get a transfer in too. 
It worked out, and he left the city with his best friend in tow without so much as telling you, better yet his father. 
In fact, he doesn’t want a damned thing to do with either of you, and feels no pain or interest in thinking about what happened any longer than he already did. Months passed differently for him. They passed happily. 
And, well, that leaves Mingyu with his internal fight for his son’s forgiveness after all this time passed. 
Not a day has gone by where Mingyu wasn’t fighting with himself on whether to get on his knees and fucking beg Chan to talk to him, or to give in, again and again, just to see you. Just to feel you. Just to hear you. 
He’s going fucking insane, actually. Thankfully though, after months worth of attempts to gain forgiveness, Chan made himself very clear that he never wanted to speak to Mingyu again. Well, that leaves little to no room for Mingyu to keep trying. At least not for now. 
He is forever thankful to Jihoon though, despite knowing what he’s done to Chan, Jihoon still sends him update texts. 
“Chan has a new girlfriend,”  Mingyu found out just last month about that. 
“His grades are really good, but I wouldn't suggest asking him home for the holidays. He plans to spend them with me and my family,” Mingyu heard just a week ago. 
And, well, despite the fact that his own son has rightfully disowned him, he still feels proud that Chan appears to be happy and doing well. Even with a father as useless as he is these days, he truly is proud of him. 
So that leaves us here. Cool winter air outside, heated arguments and painful words left long forgotten to burn little patterns into every heart that was involved in the situation. 
If there’s anything Mingyu can fuck up now, he can’t imagine the outcome being worse than it already is. He tried everything to fix the situation, and it appears that this is just how things are going to be from now on. 
Without his son. 
But not without you.
~
After a long and exhausting day out with your friends, you feel good. Happy, even. Genuinely happy for the first time without the weight of past situations weighing you down. You were happy to make it home and even happier to enjoy a nice and warm shower alone.
Because finally you feel okay being entirely alone. You feel comfortable.
That is, until you check your phone and notice that you received a text message hours prior to now. Your stomach instantly drops reading the name, because you really thought you’d never live to see the day where he reaches out to you. 
Mingyu: can we talk?
Mingyu: just talking. nothing else. 
The fact that he still had your number saved. The fact that you remember how the gravel of his driveway felt under your tires when you went to see him. The fact that you can remember the coolness his kitchen counter offered to you the last time you spent the night, and the warm bed you woke up in before it went cold. 
Just like that, you’re back to square one. Reverting back to all that is Mingyu, and all of that silent, reluctant love he gave you despite the problems that would arise. 
And upon Mingyu finally seeing you again, he really, really can’t help it. 
Immediately, he’s giving in to a woman who ruined his relationship with his son without her so much as trying, giving in to the touch and feel of another person, and giving in to his own weakness.
He missed you. 
He always fucking misses you.
And at the end of the day, that’s really all he can say about the entire situation. He misses you, and despite the fact that Chan will never forgive him for this, the truth of the matter is that sometimes two people grow feelings for each other regardless of the surrounding circumstances. Chan wasn’t going to forgive him to begin with anyway. 
Regardless of losses and gains. Regardless of the whispering in town. Regardless of the pain and heartache that could inevitably come from this, Mingyu cannot keep his heart to himself. 
Especially when you so willingly accept it. Here, tangled in the sheets of his bed, hands intertwined his with, hushed breaths and warm tears. 
He doesn’t think he could ever regret what he’s done with you. In fact, it’s possible that he’d be willing to lose much, much more than to give you up again. 
There’s only one thing that drives a person to go to such drastic lengths. It’s not selfishness, it’s not lust, and it’s certainly not spite. A nagging feeling so ingrained within the heart, digging and prodding until the sorrow overflows that empty piece and fills a person with so much dread and dilemma that all they can do is either rip their hair out or fucking bite the bullet. 
Some would say it’s love. 
Mingyu would say it’s you.
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illusioninfnty · 6 months
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day 13 ; mommy kink
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↠ brahms heelshire x reader
fandom: the boy word count: 1k warnings: nsfw 18+, dom!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, slight choking (m receiving)
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
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Nighttime in the Heelshire mansion was always your favorite. Brahms still preferred the comfort of his spaces within the walls during the days. He only came out when the sun went down, the only light source being the glimmer of the moon.
At night, you could do whatever you wanted to him.
Your hips bounce up and down on top of Brahms, his cock filling you so perfectly. You’re able to move yourself so that the tip of it hits you in just the right spot, causing you to see stars.
“So good for me,” you croon. Brahms’ hands tighten around your hips at your words. His muscles tense as you continue to ride him and his cock throbs inside of you.
Brahms was still mostly clothed, his pants unbuttoned and underwear pulled down to unsheath his cock. His wife beater was doused in his sweat, sticking to his chest.
And that damn mask. No matter what you did, you could never convince him to take it off.
Even now, as he lay trembling underneath you, his soft moans echoed out of the porcelain mask that covered his face. 
You lean over him and ghost your hands over his neck. Brahms cranes his head up, pressing deeper into the bedsheets, almost as if inviting you closer. You let one hand rest on his neck, thumb caressing it gently while your other trails down his chest, finding its way under his top to stroke his stomach. 
Gyrating your hips on his cock, you moan. “Touch my clit, Brahms.”
He obeys immediately, removing a hand off your hip to bring it to your clit. He rubs the area harshly, yet just enough to still make you feel good. He’s been learning, you think.
You smirk at his complacency. “Good boy.” 
A soft gasp, almost inaudible, escapes his lips. If you were anyone else you probably would have not heard it. But you were used to Brahms’ quiet nature and always paying attention to him.
The effect those words had on him were more than you expected. His hips, previously still and under your full control, begin to buck up into you. Through the mask, you can see his eyes widen and pupils dilate. His breathing is even heavier than before, and the hand placed upon his neck can feel as he swallows hard.
“P…please…” he stutters out in a whisper. “Mommy.”
Your ears perk up. Mommy? He’s never called you that before.
“Speak up,” you command. You tighten around him, and he gasps in surprise.
“Mommy!” He whines out, his hips bucking more furiously into you. He thrusts into you harder than he’s ever done. You’ve always been the one to take initiative and control the pace as you sit on top of him.
But it seems as though he’s fueled by this, as if you’ve just discovered an innate pleasure deep inside of him. You can’t help but groan at how much his cock presses into you with the newfound force of his thrusts. Your hands grip him tighter.
If he was going to get so much pleasure out of calling you Mommy, who were you to deny him that?
“You’re doing so well, baby,” you say. Brahms pants from under his mask, and his cock seems to grow bigger—if that was even possible. It feels so good inside you.
If his mask was off, you knew that you would be able to see a blush across his features. “Thank you Mommy,” he whimpers out.
Some of his dark curls begin to stick to the top of his mask from all the sweat coming out of him. You push some of them away, getting a better look. Brahms looks up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. All this from your indulgence in his fantasies.
You bounce up and down on his thick cock, much harder than before.
“Mommy!” Brahms calls out. His chest heaves and his cock pulses as he rapidly thrusts up, chasing his release. “Feels so good, Mommy!”
“Does my good boy want to cum?” you coo, mocking him gently. Brahms’ head nods rapidly, soft whines leaving his lips. “Mommy will only let you cum if you help her first.”
He immediately follows your commands. He rubs circles on your clit and holds your hip with his other hand to ground himself as he pistons into you. The bed creaks under the intensity of his thrusts.
Your own back is arched, chasing more of the fullness you feel with Brahms inside you. You tighten your hands around Brahms, returning one to his neck while the other remains on his lower stomach, and he groans lowly.
“There you go, baby. Make Mommy cum.” You can feel how close you are to your peak. Between Brahms' cock pistoning in and out of you, his soft whimpers coming from below, and the thick fingers he has rubbing against your clit, it’s only a matter of seconds before you reach it.
“Oh fuck,” you moan and throw your head back, the multiple areas of pleasure overwhelming you. Your orgasm comes not even seconds later, your pussy even slicker than before with the wetness of it.
When you recover from it, you can see how Brahms' arms tremble, a sign he was fighting back the urge to cum at that very moment.
You smile down at him. “Mommy’ll let you cum now,” you say.
Brahms lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you Mommy, thank you,” he repeats over and over as his cum jets out of him and into your pussy. You feel the heat enter you in groves and some of it spill out onto the sides of his cock, wetting it even more as his thrusts persist.
The hand on his neck moves up to his cheek, caressing the area not concealed by the mask.
Brahms’ thrusts finally stop as he comes down from his peak, short gasps escaping his mouth. You lean down over him.
“Mommy’s so proud of you, baby,” you whisper into his ear.
Brahms whimpers in response, and his cock pulses back to life.
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bumblequinn · 6 months
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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.
as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)
but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:
changing expectations
the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!
my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.
when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.
so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?
with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.
with that in mind:
#1: work slower
when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.
instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.
i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!
now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.
doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.
however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:
#2: switch projects
sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.
this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.
the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.
what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.
but it doesn't have to stop there.
#3: switch focus
maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?
let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:
what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?
and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?
what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?
any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.
or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.
but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:
#4: learn something new
when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.
for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)
it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)
that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:
music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang
mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix
general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!
(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)
of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:
#5: consume art you love
not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.
but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.
and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.
what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.
as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.
none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.
and finally,
#6: rest, and live your life
let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?
take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).
it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.
i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.
when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)
before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:
be kind to yourself.
being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.
i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.
i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.
thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.
with care, bee 🐦
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chuwenjie · 11 months
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Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse comes out later today so I wanted to write a post reflecting on my journey and experience working on this movie. So many people have supported me through this and I am so thankful to each and every one of you!
Text version of this post under the cut:
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse comes out tonight. It feels really weird to be typing that out right now. I worked on the movie as a visdev artist for the last 2.5 years, from 2020 to 2023. Long post incoming.
There are a lot of reasons why I'd consider this film to be one of the most ambitious animated films to ever be made. As artists, we were asked to push ourselves far beyond our comfort zones and do things that had never been done before in animation.
Every time we reached a point where most people would say "this must possibly be as creative and weird as it gets," our entire team of artists and animators would smash right through the ceiling. The driving direction for the visuals of the film was to push the limits of every single frame; to challenge audience expectations and make something truly original.
The best thing about this film was that there wasn't a single boring day working on this movie. The hardest thing about this film was also that there wasn't a single boring day working on this movie.
There were times while working on this where the imposter syndrome hit me hard. This was my first big movie, and what a hell of a first movie to get thrust into.
I came in only a few years out of school with absolutely no idea what the hell I was doing. I constantly feared that someone had made a mistake in bringing me onto this film, and I was going to let everyone down. There was a solid chunk of those 2.5 years where I wasn't sure if animation was the right path for me.
If there's anything I could tell my past self it would be this: there are so many people who love you and believe in you. There will be a time when you get to stand on the other side of it, look back on everything and see how far you came.
I'm still working on self-acceptance every day (it will be a lifelong struggle, I'm sure), but I'm glad I didn't give up on myself. I'm proud of myself and my contributions to this film, and I'm certain that this movie will continue to change and shape the animation landscape just as the first one did. That's truly a special feeling to have been a part of. I am so incredibly grateful to every single person who helped me along this journey.
Here come the thanks:
To the ENTIRE visdev & art crew- it's been an honor getting to work alongside each and every one of you. My jaw is literally still on the floor from seeing your incredible talent day after day.
I want to thank Tiffany and Felicia especially for being there for me through tough times- I admire and respect you both so much as artists, and even better than that, my life is greatly enriched for being able to call you my friends.
Thank you Patrick and Dean for taking chances on me, teaching me so much about art and what I'm capable of, and encouraging me along the way. To Aymeric, your art is one of the reasons I initially became interested in animation and you have been one of the kindest & most empathetic mentors I could ever have asked for.
I want to thank my wonderful parents for believing in me always and raising me into the person I am today: everything I do in life is to make you proud. To my brother Andrew who is perpetually awake at 3 AM when I need someone to talk to- thank you for always picking up the phone and making me laugh.
And finally to my partner Luke for making me grilled cheeses on all of the difficult days, for never getting sick of me even when all I would ever talk about was work, and for patiently and steadfastly loving me throughout this entire thing. I don't think I could've done it without you.
Starting tomorrow I will begin posting and sharing some of the art I made for this movie; I'm looking forward to sharing some of my personal favorites with you. I hope each and every one of you enjoys Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse when it hits theaters later today!
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xiaours · 3 months
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WOUNDED
— cleaning you after a fight
pairing. xiao, wanderer x gn!reader (seperate)
cw. fluff/slight angst, established relationship, mentions of injuries/blood, swear
note. this is my first work, so i hope it isn't bad :(
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— XIAO
He has always told you to call out his name whenever you were in danger, to which you were a bit intermittent about. Yes, you have called out his names a few times, but you didn't want to feel like a burden to him because of how occupied he is with protecting all of Liyue already.
This day was just like that of others. You were doing your commissions for Katheryne, and everything was going smoothly before you were surprisingly ambushed by treasure hoarders after you had cleared out a hilichurl camp. They had done a number on you, but you finished them off. Now you were entering your apartment. You tossed your weapon to the floor and hurried to the kitchen to find yourself a med kit.
"Ah..shit, where is it." You pushed through the cabinets, looking for it as your cuts and injuries started to sting more and more due to your hurried movements. You couldn't find it, you didn't want to call out his name. What if he was busy fighting, or saving someone? Despite that thought, you had called out his name. "Xiao. I need your help."
The flashes of green and black appeared before the yaksha was present.
"You called." Xiao had his polearm in one hand. A clear expression on his face before taking a good look at you. His lips formed a thin line as you approached you. "Who did this?"
He lifted your arms with care as he inspected your body of the wounds. You looked at his face, swallowing the lump in your throat as you started to speak.
"Some treasure hoarders. Don't worry, I finished them off before they could do any more damage" A hum left his lips as he walked past you, opening a cabinet a easily finding a med kit. You were left dumbfounded as he told you a sit on the counter.
"Mortals..didn't I tell you to call my name when you're in danger?"
You were silent before he cleared his throat, looking up at you as he was cleaning off the gash on your leg. "Sorry.."
"Sorry doesn't help you in this situation, [name]." You sighed, slightly wincing at the dab of the alcohol on your gash. "I didn't want to be a bother."
Xiao halted his movements. You became a bit anxious about the scolding he was about to give you. But to your surprise, he didn't.
"You are not a bother, [name]. I just don't want you to get harmed." The two of you shared eye contact for what seemed like a long time. The silence engulfs you both. It was just then that you would speak once again.
"Alright. Thank you, for patching me up." Xiao nodded, moving from your leg to your arm when he made sure the bandage was nicely folded around your leg.
"Of course, [name]"
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— WANDERER
He wants to make certain that you don't get hurt, or worse. He has had traumatic experiences in the past, and he doesn't want to undergo the same experiences again. He wants to take the lead in every fight not only because of his pride but because he wants to protect you. And with those times, it leads you to deal with some commissions without him knowing.
Today, you were away doing a commission as Scara was occupied with Nahida, much to his dismay. It was days like this that Nahida would spend quite some time with him to check up on his new life.
It was supposedly just going to be a weak ruin guard, but it turned out to be a ruin grader instead. But no worries, you could finish it off quickly. Though.. you thought you could.
It was indeed difficult trying to finish it off. You kept running back and forth as it swung at you. You had started to get tired as hitting the weak spot was hard.
You charged up your attack, but before you could hit the grader, it hit you with an unexpected attack. It had knocked the wind right from your lungs. Backing up to catch your breath, you started to see particles from behind you. It was then that the Ruin Grader had fallen, and your boyfriend was currently in front of you.
A scoff left his mouth as he approached you, lifted up your arms, carefully scanning your body. He stayed quiet, but you knew that you were in for a long berating.
"Why didn't you wait for me? Are you hurt, I saw that it hit you rather hard."
You had no answer. You felt sheepish. That you had not been able to defeat a commission, even though you were so confident that you would.
"Answer me. I don't want you getting hurt, [name]."
"I know, I know. I just didn't want to feel useless watching from the sidelines like always." His movements came to a rest as his eyes met yours. You could clearly see the confusion on his face. "Useless? Why would you feel useless?"
You sighed, "I want to fight. I'm not weak, Scara."
"You are fully capable of defending yourself, yes. I know" He looked down again, not wanting to meet your eyes. "Then why aren't you letting me help you."
"I can't lose you too. You are too special to me to lose." He spoke sternly. Being taken aback, you just watched as he stepped back a bit. He took your hand and started to walk, back to your shared home you would suppose so that you could rest.
"I didn't know you thought of me that way.." You felt selfish now, making you feel as though you were only thinking of yourself.
"Of course, I think of you that way. Just.. don't be so reckless from now on." You didn't miss the fact that the tips of his ears were now pink. Comfortable silence surrounded the both of you as you continued to walk.
"I won't. I'll be more careful."
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© xiaours. do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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angelltheninth · 4 months
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Those moments when the most likely to do this genshin boys start teasing S/O so much that they can see her pussy leak through the fabric of her panties. Leaving those pretty little wet marks for them to lick
im thinking Zhongli, diluc, and Pantalone but please, go wild with this food for thought
Thank you for the yummy food for thought. Now let me cook something up.
Pairing: Diluc, Pantalone, Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, cunnilngus, teasing, panties to the side, clit stimulation, face riding
A/N: My writing is the only kind of cooking I'm good at.
Diluc feels how wet you are while you're grinding on his thigh. You could get off like that but since it's been such a long day he wants to do something special for you. He guides you to sit on the chair and spreads your legs, smiling at the fact that the stain there is just like the one on his pants. As soon as he eases your underwear down your legs his warm tongue of on your pussy, and your legs around his shoulders, his gloved hands feeling so silky smooth on your skin while he enjoys the occasional tremors from your body.
Pantlone lets you sit on his face but as punishment for getting horny at work he doesn't let you take your panties off. You're gonna finish what he started, you're gonna utterly ruin those by the time you're done grinding your soaking wet cunt on his face. He knows you want to feel his tongue, so desperately too, but all that you feel is it pushing against the wet material of your panties, being pushed taunt against your folds and your sensitive, hard clit. Begging won't get you anywhere either, still you can try, he loves the wonton pleas.
Zhongli insists that his tongue is specifically made to eat your cunt out when it gets this messy. Forget talking about contracts, the only thing he'll be doing is cleaning up that mess you made. His tongue is pretty long too, lucky you. As soon as those panties are moved to the side he pushes that long tongue deep into your cunt, flicking it upwards against your sweet spot. He might be the one on his knees but you're the one who's doing the asking, holding onto his head so you don't slide down the wall when you begin to get dizzy.
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steviesummer · 11 months
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inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:
Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.
“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.
He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook.  With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh,  let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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can i request poly!marauders x female reader where she gets burnt out easily and most people don't know this cause she like leaves or hides before they can see. So one day they were hanging out all day and she gets burnt out but they don't know what happened so they get all worried when she all of a sudden just looks so drained and tired and can barely smile or anything. Sorry if this doesn't make sense. This happens to me a lot with new friends and because I get so burnt out I sometimes even need other people to explain for me cause talking is even too much. Thank you so much if you do it!! ♡♡♡♡♡I love your fics so much♡♡♡♡
Thanks for requesting gorgeous, love you :)
cw: social burnout
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 948 words
“I just don’t see why they would change them,” James complains, sipping dissatisfiedly at his butterbeer. 
“You’re such a creature of habit,” Sirius sighs heavily, but you all know his boredom is for show. He only wants to rile James. 
“The old quidditch uniforms were just fine,” James is practically monologuing now, staring into the middle distance with a furrow between his brows. His elbow bumps your arm as he gestures helplessly. “Red and gold—those are the Gryffindor colors, red and gold. So why are the new uniforms bright red and yellow?” 
“Maybe so you’re more visible,” you suggest, and Remus’ lips twist amusedly as he leans across the table to sip at your butterbeer. Neither of you had much appetite after your long day of snacking at the quidditch match, so you’d agreed to split one. You’ll admit, you find the two straws poking out of your mug embarrassingly romantic. 
“We look tacky,” James grumbles, slumping a bit in his seat. You see Remus’ arm reach under the table, and you know he’s straining to rub his boyfriend’s thigh consolingly. “The gold was so much better.” 
“At least you can pull off a yellow like that,” Sirius points out. “Can’t say the same for Callaghan. He looked totally washed out.” 
This would be your time to chip in with a comment about how Sirius’ pallid countenance wouldn’t fare so well in the new colors either, but you find you don’t want to. There’s a persistent pressure at your temples. Once you acknowledge it, the rest is impossible to stop. Exhaustion seeps into you like a poison, all the way down to your bones, and you’re done. You’ve been around people—mostly your boyfriends, who you love very much, but people nonetheless—since you woke up this morning, and had talked and laughed and participated all day long, and now you’re done. You want to be home. 
“True, but even he looked better than you would have, Pads,” James voices the zinger for you, he and Remus trading entertained looks when Sirius starts spluttering about how he looks good in every color, thank you very much. 
“Alright, I can’t have any more of this.” Remus pushes the butterbeer towards you decisively. “All yours, dove.” 
You know you haven’t had anywhere near your fair share, but the idea of reaching over, of going through the effort of bringing the straw to your lips, is too much. “Thanks,” you say to him, “I’m good.” 
Remus’ brow creases. You feel horribly dramatic. 
“I’ll take it,” James says merrily, reaching for the mug before Sirius slaps his hand away. 
“Oi, it’s hers.” Sirius gives him a mean look, nudging the butterbeer back towards you. “You’re like a fucking vulture, Prongs. Darling, are you sure you don’t want what’s left? You know he’ll down it in one gulp.” 
“I’m sure.” You try to give him a smile, but even you can feel what a flimsy attempt it is. “Thanks anyway.” 
Sirius’ expression clouds over with concern, and you look at the table. 
“Hey.” James reaches for your hand, squeezing your fingers lightly between his. “What’s up, lovely?” 
You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Just tired.”
Sirius makes an incredulous sound, and you know what he wants to say even though he doesn’t. Yeah, I can see that. “Did something happen?” he asks instead. 
You frown, hating that you don’t have a more satisfying answer. “No.”  
“Dove,” Remus tries to get your attention from across the table. “Are you feeling sick?” 
“No. I’m fine.” 
“You don’t seem fine, honey.” James’ voice is soft, but you can hear the unease in it. “Are you sure you’re not sick?” He touches the back of his hand to your forehead, then lets it slip down to your cheek. “Maybe it was the butterbeer. Rem, are you feeling alright?” 
“I feel normal,” Remus says, seeming at a loss. 
“Hey.” There’s a hand on your leg, and you look up to see Sirius leaning towards you, giving you one of his stern looks. “What’s going on with you, huh? Talk to us.” 
“I’m fine, seriously.” You do your best to look it, sitting up from James’ shoulder, though your dull voice belies your words. “I’m just drained.” 
“Drained how?” he presses. 
“Just…done.” You shrug helplessly. “I’m sorry, I think I want to go home. I just need to be by myself for a little bit, is that okay?” 
“Of course,” Remus says, standing and grabbing his coat. “You don’t have to be sorry, dove. It was just a long day, is that it?” 
You nod, relieved. 
He shrugs on his own coat before grabbing yours, helping you into it when you slide out of the booth. “I understand. It’s been a lot of socializing for one day. You should have told us you were feeling tired, I could have gone home with you after the game.” 
“I didn’t know until it just happened,” you say, but you don’t have the energy to really argue. 
Remus doesn’t want to, either. He kisses the top of your head as he zips your coat, taking your hand in his. 
“We’ll get you home and you can hole up as long as you need,” Sirius promises, pulling on his gloves. “You introverts, so weak.” 
“She’s probably drained because of you,” James teases back. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side. 
“That’s not how it works,” you say quietly, but James shushes you, dipping down to kiss the side of your head. 
“I know, angel, but if you say it is, he’ll be buying your butterbeers for the next week. The month, if you play it right.”
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dotster001 · 1 year
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Diasomnia boys with a s/o that calls them her prince charming or knight in shining armor?
(ah yes, our cutsie boys, getting the loving they deserve 😢)
CW: Fem Reader, and I have yet to fix Silver's picture. Will I ever fix it? Who's to say?
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"Ah, Malleus, you're like my prince charming…"
Child of man, he has told you a million times he is a king. But how sweet that you think he is charming
He goes home to tell the funny story to Lilia. He is certain they will both have a laugh at your human mishap.
Until Lilia explains it is an endearment. It is a high compliment from one lover to another! He's so proud of his boy! Lilia is wiping a tear away as he hugs his son. He's going on and on about how he's such a proud dad, and all his children are perfect.
Malleus dips out in the middle of the speech to properly thank you for the compliment. Aka, scoop you up in his arms, and kiss you deeply.
He gets blushy, now, every time you call him that. He never really believed he'd find a happily ever after with someone, but it might just happen with you…
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"Sebek! You are my knight in shining armor!"
"Of course I am, human! I have trained extensively in the art of knighthood!" Those are the words he wants to say.
"Blehsichkenchdjzn" -those are the words that come out of his mouth.
You think you broke him. He excuses himself for a moment, and as soon as the door is shut behind him you hear him scream.
He comes back in and pretends that didn't just happen. But his cheeks are awfully pink. 
Anytime you need him to shut up, or you just want to fluster him, you say it from now on. He hates the power you have over him, and he practices in the mirror, calling himself a knight in shining armor, alone, in his room.
(Silver has walked in on this three times, and may never recover)
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"My prince charming…"
Well now he's awake. You'd been resting with your head near his heart, softly caressing his cheek, and pushing his hair out of his face. But that's not happening anymore.
"I'm not a prince, Y/N. I'm just a knight."
"Maybe you're not a prince of a country," you hum, "but you're my prince."
He's shy and blushy, but you grin that cute grin of yours, and he'd agree to anything you say about him.
"If I'm prince charming, does that make you my beautiful princess?"
How is he always so effortlessly smooth? He doesn't even mean to do it, he just is like that!
From here on out, whenever he is about to kiss you, he'll call you, "my beautiful princess"
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"Lilia! My knight in shining armor!"
Duh. He's smug as hell. He hasn't trained as long as he has, and read as many romance novels, to just be an average lover!
He'll bow deeply, before wrapping an arm around your waist and giving you a roguish wink.
For the rest of the day, he'll feel mischievous. He'll dramatically help you as loudly as he can, because "it's a Knight's job to help a damsel in distress!"
"Fear not, fair maiden, I shall hold this door open for you!"
"My darling damsel, do not fret, this jar of pickles is no match for me!"
"I shall duel this wretch to the death for the injustice he has done upon you!" -Lilia, after Grim took a bite of your sandwich.
If you want him to stop you can…
Lmao, you're so dumb, nothing can stop Lilia 😂
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