#that pic of him is my entire sexuality

[ncteez]

Drippin’ [Dream ‘00 line] 

“It's too late to run away, you started this game first.”

It was a joke, you swear. Sharing something like that with your group of horny man-friends was definitely a recipe for disaster. That one little tweet sets off a string of events that prevents you from pretending that you wouldn’t fuck your friends. Because you would, and they know it.  or the one where you’re considered a tease with the shit you share privately online, and they’re just about fed up with the way you act innocent and uninterested in what they’re packing.  ― this fic is based around this tweet.

ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give ‘00 line a boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 16.2k 

PAIRING― ‘00 line x afab reader

CONTENT― birthday sex, orgy (?), comedy, use of a camera

WARNING ― mild dub-con, jaemin kinda fruity, full bladder/squirting ―this fic is not entirely inclusive like my others because it’s written for someone specific. reader can be lifted up by the members, when she blushes it is visible to them but colors still aren’t used to describe it, she has huge tits too. don’t like it, don’t read it. 

NOTE―  this is my birthday gift to @neopuppy! I hope it scratches somewhere in your brain but I also hope this means you’re aware of how much I love and appreciate you!! I am happy to have met you and i just need you to know that you’re definitely stuck with me at this point ♡ so, happy birthday to jeno’s real life gf!!! he’s a lucky dude fr. ― not proof read tho lmao

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags :: pussy eating, eager haechan, neglected renjun, confident jeno, (un)solicited dick pics, huge cock jeno and renjun, recording of sexual acts, masturbation, tongue fucking, dirty talk, finger fucking, overstimulation, tit fondling, actual fucking, (forced) full bladder, squirting, blowjob, handjob, unprotected sex, cum eating, cum stuffing, cum dump reader, bunch of horny guys + one competitive horny guy 

~

Scrolling on twitter is a normal part of your night especially when you’re bored. Your birthday is coming up and there’s not really anything planned. Aside from the spamming of messages from family and friends demanding to know what you want, or what you’d like to do, it feels like it’s just going to be a normal day rather than a celebration of your life.

No plans. You kind of just want to enjoy the day alone, relaxing, watching stupid videos, and maybe going for a coffee. 

Unknowing to you though, your future plan is slightly skewed when you run across a specific tweet. You share it as a joke, just like any other thing you’ve shared. Straight into the circle it goes, side eye emoji and all as if to imply something yet again, because you’re good at that apparently. Teasing, as Haechan would call it. 

To you, retweeting it with the side-eye emoji directly into the circle is normal and not asking for it to be considered by your friends. As much as you’d love to lie to yourself and believe that they’re down to earth, they’re really really not.

It’s not like you actively want to fuck your friends, but it’s also not like you wouldn’t. With all of the sexuality you all share online, it’s kind of difficult to not think about them inappropriately on some days. There was once a tweet that Jeno shared with absolutely no context involving some manga panel drawing of a man on a leash with his cute, unassuming girl standing in front of him. 

You hate to say that sometimes the images they share makes you think pretty hard. Learning their kinks, their sexual interests, and wondering if they’ve ever gotten to actually partake in them before. It’s a strange kind of feeling to think about your friends when these types of images pop up. The feeling is definitely arousal, but it’s kind of like a guilty arousal? 

After all, your friends may be constantly sharing their sex lives and blatantly liking all of the porn on twitter that they get off to, but it doesn’t mean they’d want to get you off. 

The funniest part about it is that you truly do view the circle tweets far differently compared to your group of friends. You, thinking they share stuff to show off, to be funny, or just to be a typical horny man. Then you have your friends and how they view it. 

Some of the tweets are intentionally for you to see, for you to get off to. Some are blatantly shared in the heat of the moment as one of them imagines you performing in the content. It’s a game to them really, to see which one will break you first. They love it for the most part, how you pretend you don’t notice. How you play dumb, even when they’re sharing images and videos of two people that could resemble you and said friend if you squint. It’s been this way for years. 

The entire friend group has spoken about you in their own group chat before. They’ve fantasized together about you through text and they’ve even discussed how there’s no way you don’t know what they’re doing. Time and time again you prove them wrong. So fucking aloof even when one of them blatantly makes a suggestion straight to your face. 

Jokes can only be funny for so long before it starts to be serious. 

To Jeno, it’s flooring to see you just a day after you liked one of his nastiest tweets, knowing you saw it, you probably watched the video too all while parading around like it didn’t get you wet or something. For Renjun, he finds it cute that you’re so different online. He almost feels lucky to be able to see that side of you. 

Haechan and Jaemin are the two in the group who will blatantly try to fluster you face to face. You both love and hate it, because sometimes you can’t tell if they’re being serious or not with you. The constant sarcastic and cocky smirks tend to make you lean more towards the fact that they must be joking. 

Either way, that tweet is nothing more than a funny joke to you. Since it was referring to a birthday it really is probably a crime to like, not share it. So, you did. 

Haechan was the first to read it, instantly screenshotting it and sending it in the secret group chat with a question mark. 

Haechan: ??

Haechan: she’s doing it again 

Jeno: she’s too dumb to actually follow through with it though

Jaemin: me first :)

Haechan: shut the fuck up jaemin

Renjun: it’s just a meme 

Haechan: a meme about eating her out for her birthday

Haechan: that she specifically shared to her circle

Haechan: with. the. eyeball. emoji. 

Jeno: he’s got a point. 

Renjun: well

Jaemin: it would be rude if she declined a birthday gift too y’know 

Haechan: do you guys think she would let us?

Renjun: um

Jeno: at some point she’s gonna have to learn that sharing all of this stuff with us is going to end in her getting fucked. 

Haechan: yeah, by me specifically

Jeno: you’d be lucky if she even thought of you when she shared that tweet

Haechan: It's gonna be so funny when you hear her moan my name, you gonna get mad?

Jeno: fuck around and find out.

Jaemin: really though

Jaemin: we should just go for it this time…….

Jaemin: bet she would love it

Renjun: lol…count me in too 

~

The last thing you expected to be waking up to on your birthday was a fucking birthday party. 

You wake to the sound of your front door opening, frantic footsteps, and then your bedroom door swinging open. Before you can even scream out of the assumption that it’s a fucking break in, Haechan is quite literally pouncing on you, shoving his face into the crook of your neck with muffled words of “wake up, baby.” 

You’re definitely awake. 

“How the fuck did you guys get into my house?!” You shout with a raspy, sleep filled voice, trying to focus on the four faces staring back at you and landing a glare at Renjun specifically, standing meekly at your bedroom door. 

He shoots an uncharacteristic smirk at you before raising his keys and dangling them at you. Of course you forgot that he had a key. He’s the only person outside of your family who has a key and it was strictly from when he helped you move in. You forgot to get it back from him all those years ago.

“Might want to change your locks.” Haechan laughs against your neck, lying his body weight against you. 

“What time is it?” You say, relieved now that your place isn’t being broken into, but still trying to shove Haechan off of you. 

He fights to stay in place, grabbing you in a bear hug, holding your arms down at your side, and not letting you go. 

“It’s noon.” Jeno calls out from the other side of your room in a nonchalant voice, letting his eyes search around before he opens one of your drawers. “What’s in here?”

You, again, try to shake Haechan from you as you go into panic mode. What kind of joke is this? Fucking room raiders? 

“Stop looking through my stuff!” You shout, glaring at Jeno, who definitely goes through your drawers now that he knows you have something to hide. 

“Haechan, hold her down,” Jeno laughs, opening another drawer, and then another, before coming to your bedside and looking at you. “What’s in this one?”

Actual panic now.

Before you can even get the words out, Jeno is opening the drawer and letting out a breathy chuckle. 

“Guys, look.” He laughs, glancing over at you before pulling one of the toys out. “You get off with this?” 

Jaemin comes over, looking into the drawer with two other toys that Jeno hasn’t yet pulled from their place. Renjun continues to watch, or stalk, really. 

“Did you wash them?” Jeno asks, waving the dildo in front of your face before bopping you on the nose with it. 

“Of course I fucking washed them!” You continue to glare, feeling Haechan squeeze you tighter to prevent you from moving. 

“Shame,” Haechan laughs at you, and then he very slowly lightens his grip on you. “Wanted to know what you smell like.” He says in a single breath, looking between you and the dildo, in deep thought. You stare at him before taking advantage of his loosening grip and rolling him off of you in one swift motion. 

You ignore the “oomf” sound Haechan makes when his head hits your headboard, and instantly rip the dildo from Jeno’s hands before throwing it back into the drawer and nearly slamming Jaemin’s fingers shut in it. 

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” You narrow your eyes as you look at each of them. You feel annoyed, and quite frankly, a little pissed because this is kind of crossing a line you didn’t even know you had. 

“It’s your birthday,” Renjun smiles, moving himself from the door and finally coming into your room. “You’re not seriously planning to just, like, stay home all day are you?”

“Yeah, actually. I am.” You grouch, rolling your eyes as you sit up and against your headboard with crossed arms. 

“That’s too bad, we’ve got a whole day planned for you.” Jeno says, seating himself next to you and softening his voice. “So get up and go get dressed.” 

If it weren’t for the fact that all four men are practically holding you hostage right now, you’d kick them out and enjoy your birthday as you planned it. Why is this year so fucking different? Why are they all over you like this? Poking fun at your toys, Haechan being weird and gross about it? 

As you get dressed, they make it incredibly obvious that there’s a shift in the air. You feel like prey, four pairs of eyes struggling to allow you to dress yourself without them in the room. You do eventually get them out though, so you can at least do as they say. 

When you open the door for them again, they’re all right there. Jeno, front and fucking center with his dopey smile that seems more menacing today than the usual, soft smile. 

You feel cornered in your own home, by the only people you trust, and you hate to say that it’s kind of getting to you in an uncomfortable way. It’s surprising to admit that you kind of like the uncomfortable feeling they’re giving to you right now.

The sheer amount of attention on you is overwhelming, and you wonder when they’ll let you in on this joke. 

~

The second you step into Jeno’s car, then tension dies down a little bit and the excitement rises. You haven’t done anything for your birthday in years so it’s kind of nice to think that your friends would plan something for you, and not being alone in your apartment with them solidified that they’re not about to eat you alive with a side of A1 steak sauce like you originally thought. 

As the drive starts and continues, you think about the dynamic between you and your friends. From how you met to how you became the group you are now. You realize that for the past few years, most interactions with them have felt more intense than they used to. Still, you’re a believer that women can be friends with men without the weird sexual tension ruining it. 

Until you keep thinking. Piling up all of the sexual jokes and implications they’ve made at you up until this morning.

One time, Jaemin took a photo with you, sent it in the group chat and said “she’s giving out blowjobs for $5 if anyone wants one.” and you’d be lying if you didn’t receive three cash app notifications of five dollars. 

Another time Jeno blatantly gave you a popsicle and told you to show him how deep you can take it in your mouth before laughing and shoving the popsicle deeper when you reached your limit. And god, don’t even get started on Haechan, that motherfucker has blatantly adjusted his length in front of you after staring at your chest for an entire conversation. 

Renjun is another story. The shy one who does a shit job at hiding that he absolutely has whore thoughts. You see it. That $5 donation for a blowjob didn’t go unnoticed, nor did his approval of you accidentally liking one of the porn videos deep in his retweets.

Still, you prefer to think that you wave off the jokes face to face despite how difficult it’s become to dodge said jokes. 

You turn to look at Jeno for a moment, noting his calm face as he drives, then you turn slightly to see the three in the back seat on their phones. Jeno’s phone is buzzing at lightning speed, and the boys in the back are typing miles per minute. 

You narrow your eyes. 

“What are you guys planning?” 

Jeno flashes a smile at you. 

“It’s a surprise, don’t try and ruin it for yourself.” He smiles wider at the implication that you really do always ruin this type of thing by pretending you don’t want it. That you don’t want him. 

You continue to glare at them, one at a time, and each of them just beams at you before you cross your arms and slump yourself back against the seat. 

“Better not be anything weird.” You grumble. 

“Define weird.” Jeno comments before moving his hand from the steering wheel and lying it against your leg. When you stiffen up against him, he rubs a gentle circle against the flesh of your thigh before continuing. “Relax, we already know you’re a freak.”

You whip your head around at the laughter, feeling flustered at how they’re not keeping the circle in the circle. Except, they are. It’s just being voiced now, and your leg is being caressed at the same damn time. 

“My favorite was when she shared that video of the girl getting her head pulled back by the hair, and dude spit in her face,” Jaemin says with a shrug, eyes still glued to his phone. “Went straight to the bookmarks.” 

You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and when you go to protest, Haechan jumps in. 

“What about the video where the girl took it in every hole? She even had a dildo because apparently she just wasn’t full enough.” He ticks his tongue when he says it, examining the way you shift in your seat. 

“Oh god, I remember that one. I didn’t think you’d be into that–” Renjun laughs, leaning forward between the front and passenger seat. “But you are into that, aren’t you?” He lowers his voice when he asks you.

You shift again, and note only slightly the way Jeno also shifts similar to the way you do at those words. 

“It’s just a video–” You try to defend, but Jeno speaks up and cuts you off.

“Did you get off to it?” He asks blatantly, turning the car onto a wide street and seemingly keeping his eyes on the road. 

There’s nothing but silence in the car and all four of them wait for your answer, but it never comes. 

“So you did.” Renjun chuckles, leaning himself back to the seat and unlocking his phone again. 

You’re kind of at a loss for words at this moment as you stare directly out of your window and try to avoid continuing the conversation. You hate the way your body is reacting to the way they’re talking to you. Of course you got off to the video. Of course you’re into that. It just looks bad when you’re sitting in a car full of men with cocks that seemingly want to talk about how much you’re into it. 

Implications. 

And god, the implication gets worse when you realize where Jeno has been driving this whole time. You can’t even protest either.

“Let’s get our girl some better toys to have fun with.” Jeno comments as he stops the car in the parking lot, turning to look at you and then at his friends as if this is the most normal birthday outing in the world. 

“Your girl?” You ask, side eyeing Jeno and then turning your entire body to look at the other three men in the car.

Suddenly, it feels like an intro to some porn video. Where the poor lonely woman is being eaten alive with eyes in a public space before it pans to her quite literally drowning in a bukakke scene. 

“Just for today, relax.” Jaemin smiles his stupid smile, shoving Haechan at the door of the car as if to force him to open it, and he does. “Besides, the toys you had seemed boring.” He laughs again, before sliding out of the car as well.

So, here you are now, walking into an adult store with four very attractive men, unsure as to why you’re even agreeing to let them bring you here. You don’t know what to do with yourself seeing as you’ve only ever bought toys online. 

 Jeno is the first to drag you away with him as the others disperse around the store. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel awkward, or like today isn’t entirely charged by sexual energy. Unfortunately, Jeno amplifies it with a casual voice and a slouched, relaxed posture as he snakes an arm around your waist and lifts your chin with his thumb so that you look directly at what he’s looking at. 

He barely lets you react to the way he’s being somewhat intimate with you, ushering any protest you could possibly have into a little insecure space in your brain. One that tells you that, based on how he’s acting, he would probably call you stupid if you said he was acting weird. 

Jeno knows damn well though, that he’s touching you right now more than he ever has. Brief hugs and brushes of the body are normal and expected, but this? This is intentionally not normal. He knows you’re picking up on the differences, and actively chooses to let you stew over it. He can see the confusion in your eyes and plays it off as if, yeah, this is normal and you’d make it weird if you decided to say it’s not. You’d be the one making it awkward, not him. 

“How do you feel about that?” He asks, eyes staring straight at an item hanging on the wall and pretending he doesn’t feel the way you let him touch you in the way a boyfriend should. 

“What? The vibrating panties?” You ask, looking at the item directly next to it. 

“Oh,” He chuckles at you, releasing your chin and pulling down the product with ease. “You’re looking at these?” He adds, keeping his other arm around your waist and pulling you right up against his side as he flips the box over and reads it. 

“Eight settings. Three pairs of panties are included–” He nods with a pleased face. “What are you looking at these for?”

You looked at them because it’s what you thought he was looking at too. 

“You gonna wear them to work? Staying wet all day in them?” He smiles, saying these words as if it’s not sexual at all. “I bet you’d wear them in front of me too. Wouldn’t even tell me how you’re getting off, would you?”

He loves the way you react when you’re flustered, looking away from him but not quite denying it or pulling from his grasp. 

“Dirty. I’ll buy them for you. ” He says, keeping hold of the box and reaching for the actual item he was originally looking at. “What about this?” 

You feel like your body is on fire with this one sided conversation. Honestly, your mind is still thinking about what would happen if you wore these panties to work. What would happen if you did wear them when hanging out with him? Surely he’d know, it’s not like you’re capable of hiding your pleasure. 

Still, you try to remain calm. Rubbing your legs together briefly, you stare at the way he tangles a leash in his fingers all while still holding the box with the vibrating panties. His hands are big, and his fingers are long. The material of the leash appears to be flimsy but the collar he grabs just next to it appears to be much stiffer. 

“A leash?” You ask, still not making eye contact but keeping your eyes on his hand and the way he holds all three items with ease.

“And a collar.” He adds, encouraging you to think about both items together, being used with him. 

“What am I supposed to do with that?” 

Jeno smirks, knowing damn well you know what he’s into. 

“You know exactly what you’re supposed to do with it.” He teases you, keeping hold of the toys and letting his eyes devour the way you buckle under every implication. He tunes in to the way your legs rub together, right here in front of him. God, you’re so cute with the way even the slightest implication seems to have you suffering. 

In your head, you do know what to do with these items for him, but the confirmation of Jeno’s words have reality hitting you like a bag of bricks. Is he really implying that these toys are to be used with him? 

And just as you try to mutter up a response, you can feel your arm being tugged at.

“Stop hogging her, dick.” Jaemin seethes through his teeth and narrowed eyes at Jeno, prying you away from him.

You look back at Jeno and his confident glare at you as you’re being pulled away. He seems slightly annoyed with Jaemin for taking you away just as the conversation was getting good but, overall proud of himself for making you think too hard. You practically see the confirmation in his hooded eyes when they trail down your body as you’re being pulled around the corner, up until he’s out of your view and you are forced to look at whatever the fuck Jaemin is trying to show you. 

“Look at this.” Jaemin says in a much sweeter voice to you, grabbing a box and presenting it to you. “There’s a sample thing too, hold on–” He continues, reaching up and grabbing the presumed sample that states “FINGERS ONLY.”

“Go on, try it.” He smiles, eyes staring straight at your hands. 

“You want me to test out a uh–”

“Pocket pussy.” He finishes for you, nodding his head and encouraging you to do it. 

Reluctantly you do, sliding your fingers into the silicone hole. Weirdly enough, you’ve always wondered what the inside of a pocket pussy felt like and well, it’s about what you expected. 

Jaemin’s intense eye contact on watching your fingers slide into that toy did not go unnoticed though. You can see the way they darken at the act in an instant. A once bright looking pervert now matching the word far too much to be comfortable doing this in front of him. If only you knew how he was imagining that this is how you touch yourself. Reluctantly at first and then sliding your fingers in deeper to feel everything it offers. 

“Well?” He asks, feeling his length twitch in his pants at the image. Wondering how much prettier your fingers would look glistening in the arousal that would spill out of you while doing this. “Do you think yours feels better?”

“Wha–” You go to ask, pulling your fingers from the sample and shoving it back into his hands. 

“You heard me,” He laughs as he drops the sample onto the floor and quickly picks it up before tossing it back onto the wrong shelf like an asshole. “Compare it. Give me something to work with here.” 

You dead-pan stare at him, processing the fact that he’s literally asking you what your pussy feels like.

“It’s, um–” You stop yourself again, not avoiding Jaemin’s eye contact this time as his smile fades into something a bit more serious. 

“Not as warm, right?” He asks, “not as wet?” 

Then he leans in to the point that you feel his breath below your ear, blowing gently as he continues his string of questions. 

“Not as tight–” He pulls back to look at you. “Hm?”

It’s insane how fast your little friend group seems to have switched on you. When you compare yesterday to today, the last thing you could imagine was Jaemin saying such a thing against your skin before pulling back, and looking at you with a face that seems to expect a genuine answer to his dirty questions. 

You’ve never felt so….shy before yet, into it entirely. You just don’t know how to process it all happening at once, with multiple people. Jeno, now Jaemin? 

You stare forward at him, cheeks warming up beyond belief as your fingers tingle from the recent silicone hole they fucked into. You think hard for a moment about all of the times you’ve plunged your fingers into yourself, comparing the feeling to the toy. You almost want to tell him that you’re definitely warmer, you’d definitely be wetter, and perhaps even tighter than that toy could ever offer him. 

And just as you were about to become the pick me girl of his dreams, an angel wearing a dick-head costume (Haechan), appears much like Jaemin did before. He prevents you from furthering the conversation, but he does little to nothing to help the warmth you’re feeling between your legs. 

“Stop being a freak,” Haechan stares at Jaemin, having heard the entire conversation and definitely liking where it was going, but also not wanting Jaemin to be the one to get you to break. “Come on, I have something a lot less weird to show you.”

Haechan drags you across the entire store before you can even protest, nearing the entrance. You almost want to get on your knees and thank him, assuming he’s walking you straight out the doors to safety before you realize he’s definitely not. 

“Lace or latex?” He asks, grabbing two skimpy outfits he presumably placed on the end of a rack for easy finding when he wanted to show you. 

“Lace.” You say without issue, still reeling from all of the other questions you’ve been asked within the past twenty minutes. Plus, clothing is much easier to discuss compared to things that fuck your friends, and things that fuck you. 

“Hm,” He stares down the lace outfit on the hanger, knowing for a fact that your tits would look fucking immaculate in it. Surely they’d be bulging out of the top, plush and bouncing with each movement. “If we got this for you, would you actually wear it?”

At this point, the feeling in your gut may or may not be matching the energy they’re giving you. There’s a hint of flirtiness coming to your mind now as you think of how to respond. You’ve flirted with them plenty, so it comes easy this time when you manage to actually answer him. 

“I guess,” You start, noting how his eyes light up. “I don’t see why not, because I do like lace.”

“Would you wear it for me though?” He corrects his question, proud of the way you look a bit confident now, not at all as flustered as you seemed when Jaemin had you back there finger fucking a sample toy.

“In front of you?” You ask, staring down the outfit and reaching out to feel the soft texture of the lace, trying to ignore the hefty price on the tag. 

“Yeah? I expect to be the one to take it off of you.” 

There goes your confidence. He’s so forward and you’re not sure if you can ever get used to such jarring comments toward you by the people you seem to be the closest to. They could talk to you like this all fucking day, and while you’d like it, your first instinct is to buckle, to hide. 

“So quiet now. Why? Because I want to see you in this?” He smirks, rubbing his fingers in circles against the lace before hardening his expression. 

“You can pretend that this isn’t happening all you want,” He narrows his eyes at you and the way you avoid his eye contact, taking a step forward and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I think you’ve gotten your fair share of teasing me online. I think it’s time you finally give it up.” He finishes his train of thought with a frustrated whisper when you pull away from him slightly. 

It’s a lot of information to take in all at once. Jeno implying things, Jaemin asking about what’s between your legs, and now Haechan stating that he wants to see you in lace before sliding it off of you. It’s not entirely insane to be drawn in and then push yourself back. Really, it’s not. You can’t just let them in on the fact that you’re into it though. All of this, you’re so fucking into it.

“You thought I was teasing you?” You ask, finally making eye contact as you look him up and down, taking another step back. “Haechan, it’s just porn. None of it was because of you.”

He tics his tongue at your words, smirking and shaking his head. 

“You’re going to stand there and pretend like you don’t think about it?” He tilts his head knowingly before shaking the lace outfit in front of you. “If we leave here today with this, you’re going to wear it for me.” he continues with a cheeky voice, “and i’ll make you feel so good when I take it off of you.”

And for some reason, you find yourself turning away from him and walking away. You can hear him mutter something at you as you create a bigger distance, and can’t help the smile on your face. Your cheeks are tingling, your body is tingling and there’s a type of confirmation happening right now, that all of those thoughts you’ve had about them before aren’t entirely one sided. 

You find yourself in search of Renjun, the only normal motherfucker in this group. He hasn’t hunted you down within the aisles of toys, sex movies, or lube. He hasn’t pulled you away as if he’s a savior before forcing you to realize you fell into the grasp of another hunter. No, he’s normal. And he fills that role so well too, as you find him near the back of the store standing alone, looking at the most mundane and boring sex toys in the world. Dildos, just like what he saw being pulled out of your drawer this morning. 

“Do you think this one is a good size?” He asks you offhandedly as you stand next to him with a sigh of relief. Almost like he could sense it was you without even checking for himself.

“Yeah, it’s a little big but–” You go to say, comfortably and confidently because he’s not being a weirdo.

“Have you ever taken something this big before?” He looks at you, glancing down to your thighs before smiling. 

“Um, well-” You start, but he interrupts you again. 

“It’s the same size as mine, you know.” 

Anyway, fuck Renjun. 

He’s just like the rest of them, except apparently he doesn’t hunt. He prefers to be hunted himself, he prefers you come to him. A wolf in sheep's clothing, perhaps. 

The sexual innuendos and jokes are a bit overwhelming considering you’ve never been fucking attacked with them before. You really can’t lie to yourself though. As much as you pretend to be unnerved, you love the attention they’re giving you. Years worth of sexual things shared online seems to be making today feel like it was going to happen now or never. All of those stray thoughts you’ve had about each of them as you watched their shared porn and read their dirty words? They’re in the front of your mind right now.

Perhaps staying home all day today was a bad idea, because you find yourself genuinely enjoying the overwhelming tension in the air. You’re quite literally in a sex shop surrounded by friends who are implying they want sex from you. 

Even if it’s all just a prank-birthday thing. You know, like how friends get each other dildos and sex merchandise for a laugh. You can’t help but stare down the bulk of items all four of them begin to pile onto the counter. 

The vibrating panties, leashes, collars, lingerie, dildos, more vibrators, and lube. Not a single condom in sight, not a single pocket pussy either, implying that it can't be purchased because, well, you very well may be the pocket pussy. 

The price goes from fifty dollars to a sum of over six hundred, and none other than Jeno himself pulls out his wallet and slides his card into the machine. Signing his name on the device smoothly, almost prettily, before watching the cashier bag each item carefully and curiously.

You hate to say how attractive it is to see Jeno pay for things specifically meant to be used behind a locked door. He’s paid for your coffee plenty of times, but the act right now is seriously just so…..cocky? With the way his posture is perfect, his confidence is exuding when he presses the buttons, god. Is it the money or is it him doing this to your mind? 

You can’t make eye contact with the woman bagging your gifts, and for some reason find yourself reluctantly making that eye contact with Jeno instead. He gives you that droopy eyed smile, the one he usually gives on a normal, non-sex-fueled day to something endearing you said. Like he didn’t just drop hundreds on things to fuck yourself with, or wear while being fucked. He can tell you’re thanking him though, appreciating him. 

After leaving the store, four big bags being carried by four men, you realize that it’s really not a joke this time. There’s a clock in your head counting down to where Jeno will drive all of you to next. 

“Why’re you being so quiet?” Haechan pokes you from the back seat, pulling some of your hair and forcing your head back against the headrest. 

“What the fuck?” You ask in a panic, turning your entire body to look behind you at him. You can tell he can see the way that little tug had you release a hint of a moan before you started asking him the question so aggressively.  “I’m just enjoying the drive, what? I can’t have a moment of silence to myself?” 

You ignore the chuckle coming from Jeno, driving smoothly and keeping his eyes on the road. Then you glance at Jaemin, who is looking at you much the same way Haechan is. 

“Are you not enjoying yourself?” Renjun asks, leaning up to the center console again. “You’ve been acting kind of weird all day.”

“I’ve been acting weird?!” You huff. The audacity he has to say that you’re the one being weird. 

“You’re just trying to pretend that we don’t want to fuck you like always.” Haechan blurts out while rolling his eyes before Jaemin elbows him in the side. 

You stare at them wide eyed as Renjun slowly leans himself back defensively, as far into the seat as possible. 

“Relax, you act like you weren’t picking up on the hints,” Jeno glances at you as he pulls into another lot. “Secrets out now though.” He shrugs, searching for a parking space. 

“We weren’t even trying to make it a secret, damn.” Haechan rolls his eyes again. “She just likes to play dumb.”

“Or maybe she’s actually dumb.” Jaemin plays off of Haechan’s words.

“Were you guys not planning on letting me have any say in this?!” You ask, voice raised a bit from feeling incredibly flustered. 

“What, you don’t want to?” Jaemin asks, narrowing his eyes at you and trying to search for a hint of a lie when you answer.

“I–” You stop yourself. 

Any normal person would say no, right? Or would a normal person absolutely be down for this? Are you even a normal person? 

“Hm?” Jeno encourages you to finish what you were about to say as he parks and turns off the car. “You don’t want it?” He continues, glancing down and between his legs as if to imply he’s talking more about himself than the group. 

Your eyes follow his and you struggle to swallow around the lump in your throat, averting your eyes to the building that this parking lot belongs to. The fucking mall? 

“I don’t know what you guys are wanting me to say but, this is all a bit too much.” 

The three in the back nod happily at your half-assed rejection, messy hair waving with each nod, and then you look at Jeno as he responds. 

“With all things considered, we know you like it when things are ‘a bit too much’.” He says to you, shutting down any form of rejection you could possibly give. 

You stare at him as he unbuckles and opens the door to get out of the car. Your body is tingling just a little bit at his words. Goddamn that fucking tweet. Goddamn those fucking twitter circles. Goddamn you for having a bunch of horny burn out friends who suddenly feel the need to jump at the opportunity to fuck you that you would have given ages ago had they tried. 

“Always acting like you don’t want it, it’s kind of cute, you know?” Haechan says, pulling himself out of the car now. Jaemin continues his string of thoughts as he gets out of the car after him, “and fucking annoying.” 

There goes any ounce of self respect you could imagine having. Your brain is flooding with everything they said to you in the sex shop and, well, you’re well aware that it’s about to be a birthday to remember.

~

Walking through the mall with your friends should be normal, and it is. But the air is different now, knowing now a hint of the plans they seem to have for your birthday. If they hadn't said all of that in the car, surely you’d know now what the plan was. 

You’re sitting in front of Jeno with your drink, Renjun beside him, Jaemin beside you. Haechan ran off to the bathroom and was in there for a while. You’d make a joke, honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that your phone buzzes and the notification states it’s from him. 

Jaemin silently and curiously watches you open it from the side. 

Silence. Unnerving silence from the entire food court as you glance at your screen for a split second before slamming your phone face down on the table and refusing to look at any of them. 

You feel seen, and you know for a fact that Haechan is probably laughing his ass off in that fucking bathroom stall with the way you leave that image on read. 

“You’re blushing–” Jeno says, watching the way your eyes shift and you suck down your drink like there’s no tomorrow. “Why?” 

You pretend you don’t hear him before Jaemin laughs. 

“Haechan showed her his dick,” He smiles, leaning down onto the table and scooting close to you. “I think you liked it.”

“I barely saw it!” You defend in a tone louder than expected, continuously sipping your drink until it’s nearly empty. 

You can’t bear to make eye contact with any of them right now, not after seeing a raging cock like the one Haechan is sporting. He’s a menace, truly, and it’s not that you wouldn’t have wanted to see it or anything but like maybe sending it to you in such a public space was a dick move on his part.

Sensing the eyes of three men on you right now, judging to see what you really think of Haechan’s junk, you refuse to look up from the table. 

Jeno definitely takes advantage of your blind spots. Wanting so badly to see those cheeks blush the same way they’re doing for Haechan. If anything, for his own ego boost. He wants you to break for him, not for that slut Haechan who is obvious in his attempts to make you want him the most.

Your phone buzzes again. 

“Go on,” Jeno smiles. “Open it.” He encourages you, noting the way you still won’t look up at them. Loving how you’re somehow both entirely shameless and entirely cautious about this situation. 

You realize only now that these men are taking advantage of every single situation. 

Of course you didn’t notice Jeno skewing his phone down and under the table. How could you notice? You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that Haechan is in a bathroom right now raging hard and proud of it.

You don’t even know why you listen to him, opening the text from none other than Jeno himself and seeing a photo of his hand gripping himself. You can see the outline of his length and the way his fingers grip against the sheer size of it. Right fucking here, under this very table. You can see your shoes at the corner of the photo briefly as you stare at the photo a bit longer than you truly meant to. Kind of wishing he had just sent you a raw photo of it. 

Now he can fucking see you imagine what’s under these pants. The lump he’s gripping only offers so much to your imagination and it leaves you wanting more. He knows it’s doing something for you with the way you stare at it, eyes no longer darting over the screen of your phone but pointed at one specific place. 

Your eyes shift up to him on instinct now.

Buzz. 

You whip your head over to Renjun when you see his name pop up on your screen. He does not look at you nor your reaction to the text but is smirking devilishly just like the rest of them. 

You’re a little thankful that his photo must’ve been a picture he took on some other day. You feel relief that at least he’s maybe not entirely hard like Jeno and Haechan are right now. (He is.)

“You guys are pussies,” Jaemin comments, shaming his friends for simply sending photos when you’re right here, looking all shy and reserved as if you haven’t been rubbing your legs together all day. “Come here.” He says quickly and quietly, grabbing your hand as if it’s to warm it up before blatantly pressing it between his legs and flexing his length under your palm.

He’s hard. Like, incredibly hard and it takes everything in you not to grab it. 

Then you hear him chuckle, looking at you and the way you haven’t even removed your hand from him yet. 

“So shameless,” Jeno side-eyes, annoyed. “We’re in public, at least act like you’re not enjoying this right now.” 

You’re quick to retract your hand, feeling Jaemin’s hips shift up and against it until he can no longer chase the feeling of your fingers. 

There, you’re left feeling a mess. The worst part is that they’re not even alone in being turned on right now in the middle of a food court. You regret wearing these shorts, the arousal is easily seeping through your panties and offering a very, very, uncomfortable sensation against you. Each shift of your legs feels like a jolt of pleasure and also a raw and rashed feeling of the denim being too harsh against an extremely sensitive area on your body.

Many times over the years, you’ve thought of each of these men at least once or twice. With all that porn they share on twitter, it really really is hard not to. Never did you expect them all to act this way toward you while together though. It was always a one on one thing in your head, but now? You’ve seen Haechan and Renjun’s cocks, you’ve gotten an idea of how big Jeno’s is, and you’ve blatantly felt Jaemin’s. 

The body tingles are worse now. There’s a burning in your stomach, and it travels straight between your legs. The arousal is there, but a release isn’t. At least not yet. 

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You jump up. 

Not only is this bathroom break there for like, actual bathroom purposes seeing as how you’ve had a coffee, an entire bottle of water, and now that tasty tea that you just downed within the span of three seconds, but, also because you need to breathe. You need to gather your thoughts desperately, and maybe get a better look at those photos. 

“No,” Jeno laughs, standing up after you. “You’re just trying to avoid it.” He looms over you as he stands, looking down at you with a smirk. “You don’t need to use the bathroom.”

“No, I actually do need to. I just drank that entire tea in less than five minutes thanks to you guys.” 

“That’s too bad,” He says in a mocking tone. “We have places to be.” 

And you just look at him, seeing Haechan appear in your peripheral vision as he talks in an animated way with Jaemin and Renjun. 

~

Store after store, you can feel the atmosphere become heavier and heavier between you and your group of friends. They’re entirely shameless in how they’re interacting with you and at this point, you can barely remember how the dynamic used to be. 

There used to be flirting, but it was all based on a joke. At least that’s what you thought back then. Now, after seeing specific parts of them as they were sitting right in front of and next to you, save for Haechan, all of this flirting seems more like fucking foreplay. 

It feels like torture, watching Jeno spend and spend his money on anything you so much as glance at. Haechan’s hands constantly stay on you in some way. Jaemin? Fucking Jaemin, cornering you alone every chance he gets, whispering things, pressing his dick against your ass when he’s behind you, asking you to touch him again.

You feel like you’re going insane with the amount of nervous arousal shaking within you. Your body loves it, your mind loves it. Every suggestion bursts vividly in your head, to the point that you very nearly feel like all of this could be a dream. 

Then, the very not normal Renjun shocks you when he tries to lace his fingers in yours as you walk. You did find comfort with his warm hands in yours, despite having a photo of his hard cock sitting in a text message. It was kind of grounding, maybe? Reminding you that this isn’t a dream at all. All four of your friends are trying to fuck you. 

Renjun kept fiddling with your fingers as you walked which, arguably, is a bit detrimental seeing as how you’re just a group of five people wandering around a mall with a desperate need to like, fuck something.

Safe to say you’re the one who may have shocked him. Thinking too hard about the way his fingers move and play against you. You focus on his birthmark, the way it contrasts with his skin tone and appears to be more like a bruise than anything else. The way his veins pulse languidly when he squeezes your fingers in his, you wonder if he moves his hands the same way when he’s using them for pleasure.

Renjun looks down at your fingers intertwined through the silence, loving the way you allow him to do this. He knows it’s not forward like everyone else even if he’s chasing the same thing. He likes to study the way you react, testing his own methods and noting how he’s somehow got you not even watching where you’re walking because you’re too busy staring at his fingers laced with yours. 

“What’re you thinking about?” He whispers right up against you as you walk behind the others, shifting his eyes to check and see that they’re not paying attention to this little moment.  

When you look back up at him, your attraction burns in your eyes and he sees that shit instantly.

“About my fingers?” He smirks.

You look away and relax your hand in his, as if to remove it from his grasp, but he takes this opportunity to show you the strength he has in his hands alone, squeezing tighter. 

“You were imagining what they could do to you, weren’t you?” He says it so proudly, like he could possibly be the first of the four to get you to actually incriminate yourself in wanting him just as badly as he wants you. 

“And if I was?” You glare before glancing down again. “What then?” 

“We could slip away right now, into that bathroom over there and I could show you–” 

Bathroom. 

You still need to go to the bathroom, but the arousal of fucking everything right now is taking high priority when it comes to how your body feels. The burn is…interesting when you think about it. You feel heavy between your legs, entirely turned on, and honestly, if he hadn't said that word you likely would have continued to pretend you don’t need to go. 

“Speaking of,” You announce so that the three walking in front turn to listen. “Bathroom break?” 

Jeno doesn’t stop walking, shaking his head.

“No, this is the last stop and the bathroom is like, across the mall.” He offers a genuine excuse, causing you to huff and completely miss the way he smirks at the small win. 

“There was a bathroom just back there.” You protest, halting where you are before turning to look at the door.

“Employees only.” Jeno continues, now turning himself around and walking backwards. “What? Gonna throw a tantrum? Just hold it, stop whining.”

You huff again, looking at Renjun and rolling your eyes.

“Was that for me, or do you actually need to go?” He asks as you try to speed up and walk with Jaemin instead. 

“I actually need to go, but I guess I’ll just deal for now.” Another eye roll. 

Damn, rejected. Still, you admitted to possibly thinking about what his fingers could do for you, and that’s a win in his book.

~

There’s a specific type of effort in the way you pretend you don’t care for what’s going on. You know they don’t believe your act, and they know you know. It feels like a game, and at some point all games come to an end.

The car ride back to your apartment felt like hell. Your body is far more aroused with the need to be filled compared to the need to be emptied. Thoughts of going to the bathroom are so far out of your mind with the way the silence in the car feels heavy and sex fueled. 

Every sound feels like it’s implied to be sexual. Haechan stretched for a moment and every single head turned to him for the sound he made. On any other day, that’s just a stretch. Today though, that’s probably what he would sound like if he were plunging into you. 

Jeno’s hand remains on your leg in a somewhat possessive way. Rubbing his thumb in circles and moving that touch higher and higher as he drives. The warmth you feel under his fingertips are forcing images to bleed into your mind. You wonder if he wants to move them higher, if he wants to tuck his fingers under the fabric and feel around the skin that’s not shown. You wonder if these simple touches would feel just as warm caressing other places on your body. Slipping under your shirt or down your shorts. Running through your hair, holding your chin up to look at him– 

You’re thankful they can’t read minds. You’d blow your whole cover at this moment, as you finally let your mind truly think about what’s happened today, and what will likely happen soon. If you were in your right mind, you think you would be able to understand where all of this is coming from. It truly was sudden with the way they’re acting, but it’s a natural instinct for you to not care why it’s happening, and only care about the fact that it should happen.

There’s no telling what will take place when you get back into your apartment. You can picture it so clearly but then again, you also can’t. There’s so many things you can do with four men at the same time but, the issue is that you want to do all of the things.

“So, you want us all to eat you out.” Jaemin deadpans through the silence. What he says should be a question, but it comes out more like a statement. 

In all fairness, he’s so hard that being quiet right now? Waiting like he has been all day? It’s too much. He needs to talk about it.

Only now do you tear your eyes away from Jeno’s hand on your leg. 

“What?” You ask, searching your brain for any sober thought that would indicate you ever invited them to do such a thing with your own words.

“You said you want us to eat you out on your couch.” He dead pans, sucking in a breath and adjusting himself in the seat to offer his length optimal comfort. 

“No? I didn’t?” 

“Bullshit!” Haechan argues, already pulling up the receipts on his phone and leaning forward to put it directly in your line of sight. “Eyeball emoji and all.”

You stare at the tweet you shared with the implications it gave to your friends. Now, you’re in a car with said friends, on your birthday, after an entire day of sex fueled conversations and acts. 

It definitely was an implication at its finest but it’s not like you knew this would come out of it. This specific tweet seems to have been the final straw for them and you can’t help but feel fucking proud of it. 

“Technically, I didn’t say that.” You still try to keep the energy you’ve had all day, but Jeno’s hand offers you a squeeze against your thigh and instantly you’re turning your head to look at him. 

“But you do want it,” Jeno says, pulling into the lot of your apartment building. “And we’re going to give it to you.”

You stare at him much like you have tried to avoid all day. 

“But–” 

“Stop.” He warns, cutting you off from any argument you try to form. “You want it.” He repeats again, this time letting his eyes scan you for a moment.

He’s not wrong. If anything, you want it more now than you did three seconds ago based on that tone of voice alone. That cold, scolding, deep voice that would make you agree to anything he says anyway. 

You don’t even turn to look at the nods of approval as Jeno shuts you down. Instead, you wait for him to park.

~

First things first, bathroom. Except that’s not anyone else��s priority. You wouldn’t be able to go even if you started running for the door. 

Why? Because the way Jaemin closes in on you before the front door is even closed. Shamefully, his eagerness does manage to push that need for a release into the back of your mind for just a little longer. 

After a full day of fantasizing, wanting, and needing, Jaemin made damn sure he was the first. Kicking his shoes off and helping you to get yours off before blatantly ignoring his friends and swooping you up in his arms.

You briefly glance back at the others, offering a pleading look of “save me please” but, there is no saving to be had here. All three of them have a dark look in their eyes, leaving the bags of gifts bought for you right there at the door as they watch Jaemin give in to his fantasy first. 

That, he does. There is no room to protest, to play games, or pretend like you’d push him away. Because you won’t, and he fucking knows it. 

He carries you to the couch with such ease, tossing you down onto it and adjusting you before you can do it yourself. 

You can’t look away from him. For a moment it feels like this instance with him is entirely hidden. Like there aren't three other guys watching the way he pushes you back against the couch, falls to his knees, and spreads your legs with a strong grip. 

“Oh fuck,” He comments to himself, noting the way you smell from the day of their hard work on arousing you. He stares directly between your legs and loves the way your shorts have ridden up to the point it must have been uncomfortable. “Look at you.” 

You can’t bear to admit the blatant truth of what he’s seeing. These shorts have been dampened over and over again today. You’d be shocked if they were dry. You can imagine how pathetic you look right now too, pussy nearly on display already while still being fully covered.  

On instinct you shoot your arms up to cover your face as if to avoid this embarrassment. The confirmation of wanting this all day, just like them, is shameful. Even as Jaemin unbuttons your shorts and starts to tug at them, you can’t help the way you feel like you’re spiraling. 

You want this so badly, and now Jaemin has the dirty, messy, wet proof. 

“So shy,” You hear from behind you, now feeling another pair of hands pull your arms from your face and hold them at your side, as he dips down to your neck from behind the couch. “You tried to hide it but,” He continues, blowing softly at the spot at the dip of your neck. “You were squeezing those legs together all day wanting someone between them, weren’t you?” 

Goddamn Jeno for being a talker. Fuck Jeno for having these strong hands and holding you down for Jaemin to toy around between your legs. Curse that man for having such a sensual voice as he talks to you, dumbing you down to the point that all you can do is fucking agree with him. 

Jaemin listens intently to the way Jeno talks to you as he continues to bask in the scent. Your shorts are now crumpled to the floor and your blatant arousal was evident in all forms of the word. Your panties leave nothing to the imagination, soaked to the point of not being able to hold any more of that dripping heat. They rode up much like your shorts did, exposing both lips and folds to envelope the fabric tightly as if you were intending to gain some sort of friction from them throughout the day. He thinks that you were, quite literally, fucking yourself against these flimsy panties for the majority of the time you spent with them, pretending that they weren’t rubbing against your clit the entire time. 

He hums from between your legs, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs to spread your legs out more. Haechan comes over now, wanting to see what it is that has Jaemin entirely speechless and holy fuck, anyone would be. 

Your folds are glistening in wet, unsticking and settling around your tightly stretched panties in a different way now. Haechan makes no attempt to pretend it’s not a beautiful sight. 

He’s the first to moan at the image of how pathetically horny you got for them. All while trying to hide it, parading around all fucking day with your panties hugging that clit in a way you wished he was– for sure. Him. You want him the most, and he’s going to fucking give it to you. 

“Aww,” Haechan coos, his eyes scanning you entirely. “You really do want me to eat it, don’t you?” 

The heat that runs down your body at those words is more telling than the small sigh that forces itself out of your throat. Your entire body jerks at the feeling of goosebumps reacting to his words, and for some reason, you shoot your eyes to Renjun as if seeing him right now will calm your embarrassment. It doesn’t though. Renjun is looming near the entry of your living room, staring blankly at what’s been revealed with the heavy length in his pants twitching and making itself known to you. He appears to be waiting for your response.

You don’t respond. How could you? There are no words in your head right now. Not with all of the sensations you’re feeling, not with all of the eyes on you. You try to offer a nod, feeling pathetic, but your hips answer for him.

Haechan watches the way they buck up at his words and instantly he’s shoving Jaemin over with a confident chuckle, slotting himself between your legs alongside him. He shows no shame in the way he hooks his fingers under the panties, digging in deep just to get a hold of them. You can feel his knuckle bump your hole and you clench at the feeling. Then, as if he’s making a show of it, he groans as he stretches your panties out of your folds and away from your body. 

“Damn,” Haechan says nearly in unison with Jaemin, both entirely too eager to be in a shared space between your legs right now. They barely even acknowledge the other, but there is a silent form of encouragement between the two. 

Never did you think you’d find your eyes glued to the way Haechan slips the panties off of you, or the way Jaemin pockets them instantly. Like they’re working together, even if not on the same team.

You breathe in audibly at the air that hits you. It’s cold, sending a shiver down your entire body. Jeno feels those goosebumps under his hold on you, his cock twitching wildly in his pants at seeing how you’re just letting this happen.

“So, so, dirty,” He starts in a whisper against your neck, so silent that it almost feels like he doesn’t want the others to hear. “I knew you’d get off to this.” 

You release the smallest of groans and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s calling you out or if it’s because someone down there just slid their fingers up your slit. 

Holy fuck, whose fingers are down there doing this right now?

Haechan is beaming up at you, giving himself the title of public enemy number one because he definitely centered himself between your legs and shoved Jaemin out of the way entirely. He wants to be the first one to taste you, and he fucking means it. 

He shows no shame in how desperate he is, which kind of makes you feel a little better as you watch him and his head of messy hair nearly lose sight of the goal while he spreads your pussy apart repeatedly just to see you clench around nothing.

God, he adores seeing your body reacting to what he’s not yet giving. The way you clench, the way your legs tense with each slide of his fingers. He’s inspecting the damage of your untouched and utterly soaked pussy as if it was entirely his fault that you’re in this state. 

The other’s let him have this one though, because they know for a fact that when they get between those thighs, they’ll humble him with confident ease. 

Jaemin, specifically, believes this. Taking defeat in being shoved from between your legs and losing his chance at being the first to fuck his tongue into you. The image of Haechan doing his thing is enough to give him the confidence to do twice as well when it’s his turn anyway. 

He busies himself instead.

There, as Haechan slides his fingers up your slit before landing right on your clit and pressing harshly against it, Jaemin unlocks his phone and opens his camera without a single hint of hesitation. His other hand goes straight to his jeans, skewing them down to let his cock spring free. Then, he’s reaching for your soaked panties and simply…hanging them off the head of his length as he records the scene in front of him with an eager glint in his eye. 

“Mm, look–” Jeno says as he nudges your cheek, holding you down more now in case you make an attempt to lunge forward and knock that phone out of his hands. “You must look so good down there for him to wanna record you like this.”

You don’t even protest, because the clench of your pussy that’s being recorded in 4k would tell on you. Jaemin’s eyes are glued to the screen of his phone as Haechan continues to spread you open, exploring, feeling. Your eyes are tuned in to the only bare cock in the room now, seeing your panties shield the majority of it but loving the imagine of how tall his length stands, and then, finally–

“Oh? What was that?” Jeno perks up at the now, louder, sigh you release from your shamed lips. “Do you like what he’s doing?” He adds, trailing his eyes down to see exactly what caused you to make such a pretty sound.

You moan a confirmation, feeling a warm pair of lips wrap around your clit and suck harshly. The sounds of Haechan’s pleased hum at the taste only amplifies the touch beyond belief. Your entire body tingles at how insane all of this feels. Lips on you, Jeno’s voice in your ear, Jaemin recording it for later use, and Renjun slowly inviting himself to join? 

Your legs immediately try to close around Haechan’s head when he continues to assault your clit with small grazes of his teeth, and wouldn’t you know it, Renjun finally approaches. Taking the struggle of your legs as a fucking invitation. He holds your legs with a stronger grip than you ever imagined he could have, spreading them wide enough that your ass nearly lifts from the couch.

 The stretch of how wide he spreads them burns, and you try to look up at him in a pleading way but he's too busy pressing his surprisingly large cock against the side of your leg as he watches Haechan lick against you.

Haechan is appreciative of what Renjun offers to the scenario, feeling your pussy spread out across his lips and chin. It’s enticing when he doesn’t have to spread it open with his fingers, and it’s hard not to lick the entirety of it as he abandons your clit. Tongue slipping through each fold, licking flat right against your hole, then pressing in slightly before returning back to your clit and skewing his head to really get at it.

So, this is actually a thing that is happening. All four of your friends are entirely tuned into you and you’re being held down as if you’d run away. As if you’re not enjoying it. Goddamn, you are though. 

In a split second decision, you prove that by overpowering Jeno and his weaker hold against you now. Seeing as how he was entirely lost in watching the way your legs and stomach tense at whatever Haechan’s tongue was doing. You rip your arms from his grasp and instantly grab Haechan’s hair, holding his face down and against your clit. Rubbing his nose in it, bucking your hips up against the pressure of his lips and tongue, wildly chasing what his lazy tongue struggles to offer. 

There’s the desperate need to fuck all of your friends that you’ve been hiding, and it’s showing. 

Jeno chuckles, nodding against your neck, still not touching and waiting for you to just fucking moan louder. More than Haechan, just overpower his sounds so he doesn’t have to hear how fucking good you taste, or how good you smell, or how good your pussy must look down there. 

Still, you don’t give them everything they want. You stay reserved in the sounds you make in terms of reactions, even as you use Haechan’s face like a toy. Even as Jaemin audibly gasps at what you’re doing, even as Renjun releases one of your legs out of a desperate need to hold the other one against him so that he can feel some type of release. 

Haechan knows his friends are jealous of him at this moment though. He’s lucky to feel your fingers tugging against his hair, he’s blessed to have your clit bumping his lips. He can feel your pussy drip against his chin the more you ride his face, and goddamn he must be doing a good job at being used. 

That, he is. You only struggle more and more to not moan at the feeling of the way he just…lets you. If you knew he was always this submissive when it comes to eating pussy, you would have jumped on his tongue years ago. 

Jaemin continues his recording, trying to zoom in and out to get a good angle that doesn’t involve the boners of his own friends, eventually deciding that he simply doesn’t care if Renjun is in the frame fucking that monster he’s got in his jeans against your leg. You’re the center of the world right now, and he’s a part of this just like his friends. 

He tries not to focus on the image of Haechan gripping your couch for dear life either.

Slowly though, he begins to realize there’s a strange type of arousal in this room, one that isn’t entirely burning just for you. There’s something about seeing Haechan being used, seeing Jeno try to remain in control, whispering cocky little words into your ear, like he’s not pressing his cock against the back of that couch, seeing Renjun blatantly lose his composure against you when he’s never so much as hinted to the others that he was into this sort of thing.

Jaemin really feels like he’s going insane over the realization of how alluring this situation is, how alluring his friends are, how alluring he must be.  

The speed of which he tosses the panties from his cock and shoves Haechan out of his way is not to be discussed. He feels a fire behind his thoughts at this moment that surely, Haechan won’t mind. Surely, you’ll not feel that split second of abandonment that’ll take place in the time span it takes for him to replace Haechan’s lips.

He forces his phone into a dazed Haechan’s hands who lazily raises the camera up to see Jaemin take his place. The way you barely even take a breath, the way you don’t even react to the change of mouth against you– goddamn, Haechan may very well fall into obsession with you at this moment. 

Replacing him with Jaemin like he’s trash? Why does he love it? The way you grab Jaemin’s hair the same way you did to his own? Is that what he looked like when you did that? Spreading your legs and fucking against his face? Seeing it from a different angle, with a different person to Haechan, makes him believe you may be the sexiest woman he’s ever had the pleasure of licking.

And if you knew of the crisis happening below, perhaps you’d be able to focus on that more than the sound of Jeno’s deep sighs against your neck. Really, maybe you would have realized that the hair tangled in your fingers is now Jaemin’s. 

Your brain focuses solely on the way Jeno’s lips brush against your skin, the wet feeling of his tongue darting out every few minutes, whispering deep mutterings of the things he loves about what’s happening. Words like “I can hear how wet you are, is it for me or for them?” and “You want more, don’t you? I could bury myself so deep for you–”

It’s kind of crazy how Jeno’s words somehow feel more intense than Jaemin’s tongue on you. There’s something within his words that feel damning. Like he’s belittling his friends despite blatantly seeing how they pleasure you. Like there’s a promise sprinkled in that after all of this, he would be the one you’d think about the most. He would be the one to leave the lasting impression. 

Arguably, he already has. Spending his money on you without question, calling you out in a way that shows he knows exactly what game you’re playing. You think that if you let Jeno have at you, it may very well be a lasting impression on everyone, not just you. 

Still, you try to focus on Jaemin’s lips through Jeno’s muttering. 

You can feel the way he uses more tongue than Haechan and you know your hips are chasing his mouth right now. You can also feel the vibrations of his moans against you and while that is a heavenly feeling, Jeno’s small grunts penetrate straight through that pleasure and center itself once again. Briefly, you almost imagine it’s Jeno between your legs.

You’re moaning softly right next to him, hips chasing a feeling that he’s not even offering to you but god these sounds are for him. You’d never tell Jaemin that the moans aren’t directed at the beautiful work he’s giving to you though. Never. 

These moans are for Jeno to react to, to take in, to use as encouragement. And he eats it up, tensing himself against your couch and finally using his hands for something other than helping you hold Jaemin’s head in place. 

He runs them up, now moving his head to the other side of your neck and leaving small kisses there as he lifts your shirt up, up, up until it’s bunched up under your arms. There, he cups the flesh of your chest and uses his pointer finger on both hands to tease your already hardened nipples through the fabric of your bra. 

He’s thought about playing with your tits so often, now that he can do it? He’d be damned not to savor it while his friends are busy fucking themselves and being used by you. 

He teases, and teases, and fucking teases.

“Sensitive?” He whispers against you at the way you arch your back into his touch more than the way your hips fuck up. 

You nod mindlessly, throwing your head back against the couch. Then, finally, he pulls your bra up too. An uncomfortable fit against your collar bone but his warm hands overpower the feeling of fabric that you’d rather have removed completely. 

At first, he just holds them in his hands, feeling the weight of them, bouncing them, and then caressing them. 

“Could drive me insane with these.” He whispers against your neck in a pleased sigh, pinching one of your nipples before mindlessly playing with them. “I’d like to slide my dick between them and feel how fucking soft they are,” He continues, losing his train of thought as he stares down, imagining how the slide would feel. “Fuck, so pretty.”

At that moment, you think he might have lost composure. The sound of his voice indicates that he was really thinking about it. You can feel the couch budge at the way he tenses up against it, and that paired with his teeth biting against your neck, you feel like the most desired person in the room. Which is true. 

The more Jeno talks, the more you find yourself willing to give him just about anything he asks for. His big hands grope your chest in such a firm way, blatantly showing interest in the way he touches and plays with them. Every fleshy expanse of skin there is warmed up by his hands and it’s not strange at all to feel incredibly turned on by it.

Haechan audibly moans at seeing your tits jiggle in Jeno’s hands, probably ruining the video he’s recording but god damn. He knew they were huge but they’re pretty too and that’s just the ultimate combination when it comes to tits for him. 

Just as Haechan goes to make his mouth useful again against a different part of you, Renjun takes what he needs. Which is fair, Haechan thinks, knowing that he’s already gotten to taste you, the least he can do is let Renjun suck some titties. 

Jaemin, is still below enjoying himself and shockingly, Haechan is keeping to himself as he records, slipping his hand down his pants just to edge himself every few minutes as he watches the situation unfold. Almost in a daze at how insane it is that finally, you’re letting them see and touch you like this.

Feeling Renjun finally put his mouth on you though? Damn. Feeling three of the four touching you is a lot to take in but you still manage to do it. Jolts of pleasure are sent straight to where Jaemin continuously grinds his lips against your clit. Renjun shows no shame in inviting himself onto the couch next to you, swatting one of Jeno’s hands away and laying claim on one of your tits, immediately sucking against it and feeling himself spiral at the way you arch into it. 

Jeno can’t say he’s too pleased with that though, staring straight at the way everyone has had their lips on part of you, but all he’s gotten was your fucking neck? All he’s gotten was to hump up against this couch to satiate his needs, and feel your nipples? 

Renjun doesn’t notice the dark look on Jeno’s face, but Haechan sure does as he double takes at both the image on the phone screen and Jeno. 

He recognizes that look and knows for a fact that Renjun better open his eyes and pay attention, or–

“Jaemin, get her off or move–” Jeno says, halting his fingers on your nipple as he backs away from the couch and now comes around in full view.

You stare, feeling Renjun continuously suck against your nipple, sending ripples down to your belly. Jeno’s pants are much tighter than before, and you can see the outline of his cock much like when you saw the photo he sent you.

It looks even bigger than before and your mouth nearly waters for it. The eye contact he’s keeping with you doesn’t do anything to help the situation either because he loves the way you struggle to decide on if you want to meet his eye or stare at his length. 

There, he grabs himself, thrusting his hips playfully toward you with a quirk of his brow, as if to suggest you could have more than just his tongue if you ask. 

You take in the implied suggestion, releasing Jaemin’s hair and struggling not to shove him clear across the room just to see what Jeno has to offer to you. It’s honestly like no one else in the room exists when he stands between your legs, looming over you and not at all falling to his knees. 

You, Haechan, and Jaemin watch as he stands there, making a show of unbuttoning his pants to get his cock out. Renjun remains in his own little world though, sucking your nipple as if his life depends on it while shoving his pants down and shamelessly fucking into his fist. 

Then, Jeno makes his move. It’s not exactly unwanted but damn, he really fucking goes for it. Dropping his pants to the floor and gripping Renjun by the hair, pulling him away from you as well.

“You got what you wanted while I had to watch,” Jeno comments harshly at his friends, grabbing your legs and pulling you down to wrap them around his waist. “Now, you watch me.”

Instantly, your pussy is throbbing at the image of how huge he is. His cock lays easily against you, heavy and leaking as it twitches to be inside of something. He’s going to fuck you. Jeno is going to fuck the life out of you. This wasn’t at all in the plan, then again, was any of this in your plan for the day? 

Do you want Jeno to fuck you? Your eyes scan the room, all three men and a camera pointing their eyes at you. There seems to be a bit of a hopeful glint in each eye.

You nod weakly, watching Jeno take a good look at your pussy before smirking. 

“So wet for this, no wonder they were moaning more than you were,” Jeno smiles, staring down at your hole before licking the tips of his fingers and dipping them into you without so much as a warning. “Feels good to finally have something to fuck, right Birthday girl?”

You’re speechless, wincing at how deep he buries his fingers. Never realizing just how perfect they’d reach inside of you. He bumps areas inside that you desperately need with so much ease.

Oh, oh fucking no.

There’s that burn. The reminder of a different release, pressure building up at lightning speed as your wet walls squeeze his fingers. 

“How long have you wanted this?” Jeno comments at how tight you’re squeezing his fingers. “How long have you wanted me?” He continues, ignoring the other three in the room and paying no mind to them.

You can barely answer, your body reacting in all sorts of ways that it never has when it comes to a pair of fingers and dirty words. Perhaps it’s the sudden burn of needing to get to the bathroom, or perhaps it’s just Jeno. He leaves no room for any of that though, as he continues to chase what he wants. 

“You want me?” He asks, urging you to nod, leaning over you and gripping your cheeks with one hand to look directly into his eyes. 

His other hand pulls from your pussy and he coats his length in that wet that soaks his fingers. There, he tugs, leaking just like you are for it. 

You blink up at him, sparing a single glance at the others and hoping that they don’t protest when you ultimately nod your head innocently.

“Take it then.” He seethes the words through his teeth before instantly adjusting his length and sliding into you in one go. Bottoming out entirely and holding himself there. 

The sound you let out is embarrassing and slightly choked. The stretch of him inside of you makes you shake, your legs falling open from around him at the weakness in your muscles trying to adjust to the intrusion. 

His two fingers were not enough to prepare for how thick he is inside of you. Every twitch he offers hurts, every breath he takes feels like he’s already fucking you senseless and you genuinely couldn’t muster up a single word of “wait,” if you wanted to.

Because you don’t want him to wait. You like the searing pain of fullness both inside of your pussy and bladder. It’s overwhelming and almost blinding to feel so utterly out of control of your body. 

“Oh, my god.” Jaemin whispers out, experiencing first hand how huge Jeno’s cock is and the way he makes it fit into you. 

He can see how tight you are around him, knowing for a fact that if Jeno were to jerk his hips back, your pussy would resist it. He shifts his eyes to the other’s in the room, seeing how Haechan has blatantly abandoned his phone and propped it up on the table to get his pants off, probably because he wants to see if he can fuck you after Jeno.

Renjun is just fucking gone, already having a fair share of cum on his shirt and breathing hard as he stares directly at the point of entry in a dazed and hopeful way. 

Then there’s himself. Jaemin wants to fuck something so goddamn bad that he’s actually a little upset that he left that store without a pocket pussy. If Jeno gets to do what he wants, why the fuck can’t he?

So, he not so reluctantly finds him moving to his feet and over to you– avoiding eye contact with Jeno as he kicks his pants off followed by his shirt and lounges next to you on the couch. 

He’s reluctant to reach for you at first, but when Jeno relieves that pressure inside of you for a moment and slams back in, he finds himself immediately reaching for your hand and lying it directly against his cock simply because of the sound you make.

You can barely think straight through the stars of Jeno’s cock spreading you open so slowly like this. He barely pulls out before pushing back in when you feel Jaemin grab your hand. You do your best, honestly, with all things considered. Opting to simply hold his cock tightly so that he can at least fuck into it. And that he does, especially when he hears the continuous string of whimpered moans spilling from your lips.

Jeno really does pay no mind to Jaemin because the point is, he’s the one who has his cock in you. They can take what they can get but he’s going to take exactly what he wants. 

You’re incredibly tight around him, strangling his cock in such a beautiful way despite still dripping around it. The slide is harsh when he pulls back again. He looks down, watching the way your pussy grips him before pushing back in a bit harder this time. 

“God, fuck,” He groans, gripping your legs and now pushing you back and fully onto the couch. He crawls over you, somehow managing to plant his cock even deeper when he thrusts this time. “You can barely take it–”

The way he moans breathlessly makes you feel proud despite your body feeling as if it’s on fire. Not a single mouth on your clit has gotten you close to orgasm because of his words overshadowing it. Now, though? With his cock bumping repeatedly against the softest spot in your pussy? You’re fucking shaking. 

His moans do little to help the situation as you clench tightly, panicking slightly at the familiar feeling in your gut.  You shoot up, nearly knocking heads with Jeno and abandoning Jaemin’s pathetically needy cock all together when you continue to push Jeno away. 

He barely budges, forcing his cock in and out of you, smiling at your panic. This is what he was waiting for, he can see exactly what you’re trying to do. 

“Just take it,” He laughs slowly, picking up the pace of his hips and watching that panic in your eyes. “Let it go.” 

You can’t bring yourself to do it. That burning sensation in your bladder making itself far too known when his cock bumps that spot inside of you. You aggressively shake your head. 

“Come on, let it go.” He encourages, now snaking his hand down and rubbing your clit at such speed that really, it’s not intentional. 

Your body tenses and you let out that breath you’ve been holding through this. On instinct your body pushes, it shakes, and you let go. Jeno knew exactly what he was doing throughout the day too, so he’s fucking beaming when your pussy forces him out along with the gushing liquid of your long awaited release. 

“God, so messy.” He compliments you, trying to force his cock back into place to feel that release in its full intensity. “Let it go, drench me–” He continues to talk, losing his goddamn mind at how soaked he’s getting. Fucking so harshly past your clenching walls, burying himself as deep as he can go just to feel the way your pussy jerks him off in an attempt to push him out.

He rumbles out a pleased sound, side eyeing Jaemin and the way he sits there fisting his own cock at a speed that is likely very painful. He can’t bear to turn to see the other’s though, but hopefully they know now who is calling the shots here after this.

It goes on for so long that you can barely even open your eyes by the time your body stops releasing. You choose not to comment on what just happened, knowing full well that you’ve never squirted in your life and feeling embarrassed that Jeno fucked you for a total of four minutes to force that out of you.

The relief you feel inside of you right now is…interesting to say the least. Still, you choose not to focus on the fact that Jeno is fucking beaming at you, still fucking into you, and the wet sounds below are far more telling than any porn you’ve ever watched. 

The room falls into silence save for the slapping of Jeno taking you for all you’re worth and the sounds of palms hitting the base of their assigned cocks, and– oh?

“You’re just taking it–” He groans out, short of breath as he drives himself deeper, harder, and then suddenly emptying you completely.

“Renjun,” Jeno says, lazily pumping his cock as if he didn’t just go fucking feral on top of you, and then abandon you.

You’re shocked at how fucking fast Renjun jumps up though, following orders as if he was born to do it. 

No words are spoken after that, all Jeno does is nod his head to the space between your legs and immediately you feel Renjun’s hands gripping your thighs and his tongue lapping away at the mess. 

Your legs start to shake again, feeling sensitive to the point that your hips try and fight to get away from his relentless probes of the tongue. He won’t let you go, holding you down and letting his lips follow wherever your hips go. 

You can’t get away, all you can feel is Renjun’s mouth cleaning up every single drop of that embarrassing mess that Jeno created, and the desperate whines that are coming from your lips only drive Renjun to eat harder. Making out with your clit in the way he’s wanted to do all fucking day, stiffening his tongue and tasting the insides of you, fingernails digging into your flesh just to prove how badly he needed this. 

It all happens so fast, a second orgasm approaching at the speed of light when Jeno coos out at the both of you. You both look pathetic, and it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be. 

Renjun goes, and goes, and fucking goes until– you realize how close he is. 

So close that, despite already having gotten off once without so much as letting anyone know, he’s standing to his feet and instantly fisting his cock. The speed of which he does it allows your clit to swell even more at the image despite your orgasm trickling back down. 

You focus on his face and the way his brows knit together, his mouth falls open, and then– a breathy moan. You can feel it spill, dripping down your slit and onto the couch. You’re shocked he has so much to offer as you lay there shaking, watching him empty himself entirely onto you. 

And then, the fucking whiplash you feel when Jeno moves him out of the way and, quite literally, drags you onto the floor before spreading you out wide for ultimate use. 

As long as he gets his cock in you again, they can do whatever they want for their release. 

You’re so silent, never feeling more like prey than you do now when you feel Jeno tuck a cushion up under your ass and fuck Renjun’s cum right into you in one slow and languid thrust. It’s animalistic in the way this turned from them trying to pleasure you into now, them trying to pleasure themselves. 

You can barely comprehend the way Jeno forces you to take his size again. Your mouth is left hanging open and Haechan uses that as a damn invitation, pressing his length past your lips and bumping the back of your throat. He holds your head there, feeling your throat constrict around him and releasing a long awaited moan that he’s been needing since he originally got to taste you. 

Relief is what they’re getting right now, and for some reason, you don’t feel ashamed at all with the way you let them. You’re a fucking mess despite Renjun cleaning you up and then promptly dirtying you twice as much. You open your eyes through your gagging at Haechan. 

He pauses at that. Staring down at the way the tears start to run down your cheek, but you’re implying with your slow blinks that you feel good. 

“Fuck, it’s just like the video–” Haechan chokes out, fucking his hips into your mouth at a rapid speed, reminding himself of that video you shared with the girl needing to be filled in every form of the word.

And you know, Jaemin would totally take you up on that offer, forcing all of you to stop just so he can get under you and fuck into that same hole Jeno has claimed, but, well, listen.

He’s so fucking close. He’s been edging himself this entire time and he will be damned to spill anywhere near someone else’s cock. Why? Because he’s way too attracted to everyone right now and he’s a bit concerned about getting off to someone other than you right now.

Which, that’s a hurdle he can deal with when he gets to it. He, instead, takes this opportunity to go for your hand again. Obsessing over the way your weak fingers grip him in an instant, dragging up and down his length with the help of Jeno’s insistent and harsh thrusts. 

He watches the way you moan with stretched lips, the way your legs lift to wrap around Jeno’s waist to try and hold him in place and then– Oh? You gain your composure back and grip his cock like you’re hell bent on milking him dry.

He groans with a smile, sinking down on his knees next to you and letting you work him up just like you’re doing for the others. 

You’re going with your hands, with your mouth, and with that tight little pussy of yours apparently because everything else happens in a blur.

To Renjun, he takes it upon himself to grab that phone and be sure to capture every messy second of what happens. 

First one down is Haechan. Once again, he grips your head and holds your face flat against his abdomen when he releases deep into your throat. His hands shake as he struggles not to suffocate you like this. He could feel you swallow around each spurt of his cum, utterly spending him of all energy before he releases you and lazily throws himself back against your floor in a huff.

Then, Jaemin. Despite being in his head, promising himself that your hand was good enough for him to finish, he couldn’t resist the absence of a cock in your mouth at that point. He immediately replaces Haechan, being far more gentle with the way he fucks himself against your tongue. Didn’t take long at all to have his hips stutter. He was more particular about his release though, snapping his hips back when his orgasm approached and jerking himself off right there against your face. He intentionally misses your mouth, wanting to see it drip down your cheeks and chin and onto those tits that have been long abandoned by now.

Which is a shame because he really likes those.

Then, Jeno, pulling the power moves he always does. 

He waits, and he waits, changing his pace time and time again to prevent you both from releasing. He does this until you’re practically gone. Your eyes roll back, your mouth is slack, and he can tell you have no thoughts at all in your head when you start babbling. Finally, he rubs your clit.

There, he holds himself off as your orgasm sends you straight into another dimension. You tremble through it as your entire body falls limp and out of breath and only then does he pull out and release the most pornographic, deep, moan you’ve ever heard in your life.

The amount of cum he releases on you is fucking obscene. To be fair, you drenched him first but holy fuck does he lay claim to as much of you as he can. 

It spurts up to your tits, some lands on your belly, a majority of it spills directly onto your clit and thighs.

You can’t help it when your fingers move to trace some of it around even more, feeling entirely sticky both inside and out. You help him lay his claim on every other part of you, even going as far as smearing that cum on your clit and gently dipping it inside of you with the tips of your fingers.

Jeno, out of breath and fucking watching you do that takes in a pained breath.

“Don’t” He warns, amazed by you. “Don’t do shit like that.”

You tilt your head with a dazed smile, pushing your fingers in deeper as if to ask “why not?”

He shakes his head, a smile creeping up on his face.

“Always such a damn tease.” 

~

a/n: there was a lot more i wanted to add to this, such as jeno getting his chance to eat and stuff, but i was writing too much so I hope you liked it anyway!

#nct smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #haechan smut #renjun smut

[kissforyouu]

ribbons & affection ♡

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc

genre : fluff , smut

warnings : RIBBONS!!! 🎀 , sexual content : jk is tied up , p in v , breast play , switch!reader , switch!jk , tit fucking , guided masterbation , creampie , nudes

a/n : this was inspired by this video!! AND HAPPY LATE VALENTINES DAY😭😭!! btw i made like a whole text au but forgot tumblr had a limited number for pics so i couldn't include it in ughh😫😫

not proofread.

"hi."

jungkook stares at you from your door, across the living room. he was dressed in black from head to toe, as usual. big puffer jacket, baggy pants and a tank top with a few of his rings on. his body was leaned against the doorframe as he waited for your response.

"you're here!" you squeel, excited to see your boyfriend. especially after your...little argument yesterday. it was childish, really. jungkook was a massive tease. he would tease you about quite literally everything. and maybe yesterday he took it a little too far by making a comment about his exes. multiple exes to say the least :). obviously, you got fucking mad. he was talking about how he never really felt anything real for any of them, except maybe one. obviously that made you feel a bit insecure. what if he feels the same towards you as well? and he's just playing you?

no, he wouldn't do all of this if he was. you're sure. you're very sure! right? he's your jungkookie.

brushing away all those thoughts away, you skip your way towards your boyfriend, only stopping a foot away from him. you look up at your man, arms behind your back with a small smile that's threatening to widen.

jungkook's lips press thinly against eachother as if he's going to say something, but he stops and drops whatever he was holding. next thing, his arms immediately wrap around your body, pulling you to his chest. like this, jungkook wraps his entire body around yours. your nose nuzzled deep in his neck with his arms securely wrapped around you, one around your waist and the other around your back.

your boyfriend bear hugs you for about a minute, gently rocking your body sideways. god, this feels nice. the moment he wrapped his arms around you, it was like everything was fine again. there was some obvious tension still, until the moment before he hugged you like this. your body was relaxed, almost lifelessly laying in his arms.

slowly, you place your palms on his back, hugging him back. jungkook hums in satisfaction, the tip of his tongue in your hair.

"my sweet girl." his embrace felt so warm and safe. you never want to let go.

"i missed you so much." he mumbles into your hair. just as you were about to slowly pull away, he pulls back into his embrace by grabbing your wrists. "let me hold you." he kisses the top of your head.

there is a familiar warm feeling spreading around your stomach. jungkook! >.<!

you just let the man embrace you in silence, squeezing your body over and over again until he feels completely comfortable and fit.

about a minute pass by, so you decided to break the silence.

"you missed me that much?"

"the fuck i look like to you? of course, i did." jungkook pinches the skin on your waist, making you squeak. his hand shifts places to under your butt, lifting your body up effortlessly next. he adjusts you in his hold, both hands under your butt to hold you up. jungkook sighs, comforted, as he walks into your house.

"my stuff!" you whine, hand reaching towards your bag full of goodies on the floor.

"is that all you care about?" the man holding you grunts.

"yup! duh." you pinch his ear.

"we should break up then—"

"no. you're not funny, kook." jungkook snickers in return, hand patting your back. he sits on your couch, pulling you closer to his body. gosh, if he could, he'd dig inside his body to have you rest under his skin. he wants to be as close to you as possible.

"y/n, oh my god." jungkook takes a deep breath, thumb caressing the dimple on your cheek as you smile. "yeah?", "baby, i love you so much." he hugs you again, practically squeezing you. you just giggle, cheeks heating up. "oh my god, you're so cute, jungkook!" you coo, hand gently petting his head.

"i'm not cute." his voice comes out muffled. "yes, you are!" "no, don't call me that." jungkook huffs, groaning into your neck. "the way you said that made you even cuter." you giggle. you pull him out of your embrace stand up on his thighs, both hands holding his face up.

"look at you! your head is like a circle!" there you go again.

"oh fuck, baby. give it a rest." jungkook's back is slouched against the back as he watched you fondle his cheeks. "smileee!" jungkook shakes his head in disagreement. you frown, lightly slapping your boyfriend's cheeks. you boyfriend couldn't help but grin a little, the corner of his lips twitching upwards but it quickly conceals it by puffing his cheeks.

"give me a biiig smile, baby." you pinch the tip of his ears. jungkook shakes his head again, clearly saying no. you begin by kissing the tip of his nose, then trailing more up his nose bridge, ending with a soft kiss on his forehead. your cheeks are already heated up as you caress your boyfriend's cheeks, kissing them afterwards. there's faint stains of lip gloss all over his face by now.

"smileeee!" jungkook looks away from you, trying to keep his smile from breaking out. but your charms were just too good. your boyfriend couldn't help but smile widely, followed by a giggle. ack! so cute!

quickly, you push your index fingers forward to poke his dimples. jungkook's laughter fills your ears as you continued to poke his dimples.

"did you bring the ribbons by the way?"

"wait—" pause. "you were being forreal?" jungkook squints his eyes, trying to read you.

"yeah?" you pout.

"i just—well, thought you were joking. one sec." jungkook signals you to move out of his lap before he walks towards the bag laying on the floor. he brings the bag to you, pulling out a roll of pink ribbon. he throws it at you and watches it bounce off your chest to your lap.

"now what?" your now curious boyfriend stares at you, waiting for you to do something.

"i'm going to fuck you!" god. such filthy words coming out of someone who looks so innocent.

you stare back at your boyfriend with your eyes wide, a cheeky smile adorning your lips. your fingers fondled with the lace of his sweatpants, sneaking its way upwards and under his tank top. the tips of your fingers make contact with his hard abs as they traced imaginary lines all over.

"little fucking minx." jungkook cusses out.

with a giggle, you sit up on the sofa, pulling down his sweats upto his mid thighs to expose his boxers, semi hard cock very much visible.

teasingly, you bend down to press a kiss to his clothed cock. jungkook's breath hitches, excited. but the excitement vanishes away the moment you pull away and let the sweatpants go back to its original spot.

"what?" "what?" you giggle at his visible confusion.

"weren't you gonna suck my dick?"

"ew! no!" you laugh, slapping jungkook's torso. you get back on your feet before kissing your boyfriend's cheek and skipping your way back to your bedroom. huh? were you gonna fuck him in your room then? before jungkook could even find out, he hears you locking your room.

"Y/N? you can't possibly lock me out of your room after doing that!" the helpless man shouts.

but the ding coming from his phone distracts him, especially your contact appearing right on top. you had sent him a message. now?

baby❤️ : take ur pants off and wait on the couch🤭 p.s. leave the boxers on :) AND CLOSE UR EYES PLS

what the fuck were you planning? er, jungkook didn't care. he was thrilled by this. all he wanted was to burry his cock deep in your cunt.

so far into your relationship, you've never really initiated things yourself. it's always been him suggesting things to try in bed. you've only brought up topics maybe once or twice. so this is definitely rare. it wasn't just you suggesting it, but you were acting on it right on the moment too. so correction: jungkook was far more than thrilled for this. the thought itself got his dick standing up proud and tall.

he made sure to listen to all your orders. your boyfriend was sitting on the couch in his boxers, legs wide spread and waiting for you. he was debating whether to take his shirt off or not. i mean, you didn't tell him to do so. but you also didn't tell him not to. uh. er. maybe—

"kook, are you ready?~" your sweet voice fills his ears, catching his attention and eyes directing towards your room.

"you want me to close my eyes?" jungkook's eyes shut after the loud yes you shout okay.

once you felt like you were ready with....this?!?! you slowly open the door, trying to not make a sound. you tip toe towards you impatient (and horny) boyfriend on the couch with a tight smile and immediately place your palm on his eyes, blinding his vision.

because of the sudden action, jungkook flinches, hands immediately landing on your thigh—more specifically, your garter.

you freeze, head lowered to see jungkook's finger hooking onto the garter. you watch his lips slowly turn upwards to a smirk, quickly picking on what's happening. his other hand joins the feast, gripping onto your other thigh, slowly sliding up your smooth skin and meeting your ass cheeks. his fingertips touch the thin fabric covering your cunt.

"ha!" jungkook laughs, body falling back against the sofa with a slap to your asscheek. "can i open my eyes now?"

you pout, eyebrows frowned in annoyance. whining, you talk, "ugh! i wanted to surprise you. why do you always have to find out everything?"

"doesn't matter. can i open them now? pleasepleasepleaseplease—" "okay."

jungkook's eyes immediately open, and the sight in front almost makes him faint. fucking hell. he didn't know where to look. your face? your tits? ass? uh, i don't know? fuck.

you were wearing a beautiful baby pink lace lingerie set. it was barely covering you, of course, but teased jungkook just the perfect amount. oh fuck. the lace was so thin and fit your body perfectly, decorating you as if you were some prop. the lace had little bows adorning it, along with small roses. his eyes were glued to tour beautiful round tits, secured within the flimsy material. but one thing caught his attention. fuck, he was rock hard. it was the beautiful J necklace he had gifted you a while earlier, sitting perfectly in between your pretty tits.

"shit, baby." jungkook touches the pendant, thumb swiping over the shiny letter. he traces the chain of the necklace upto your neck, giving you goosebumps along the way. jungkook's finger slides over your shoulder blade and down your arm before it lands back on your pendant. he grabs your left breast, squeezing it. he loved how your hard nipples were seen through the useless little material. couldn't help but swipe his thumb over the material a few times, making you let out a whimper here and there.

and the beauty doesn't even stop there.

jungkook's eyes travel downwards, met with your pretty pussy covered with nothing but the little lace fabric. and oh, oh shit— his eyes widen at the crotchless panties you were wearing. with little bows attached to both hipsters.

"dirty fucking girl." he laughs, hand gripping onto the flesh of your ass.

"you like it?" you tilt your head to the side with a small grin on your face.

"i love it, baby. gimme a twirl." jungkook pats your ass and motions you to do what he asked. you happily accept, taking a few steps back to give him the full view. you begin to twirl around slowly. jungkook enjoys the view with a small smile.

"so pretty, baby. dolled up all for me." he bites his lower lip. "uh huh." you nod.

"c'mere. lemme feel you, princess."

"nuh uh." you refuse, shaking your head from side to side.

"fuck it, what's it now?"

jungkook didn't know what to expect this time. he knew you were nervous about it, judging by your body language. you were standing awkwardly, hands pinned to your back while nibbling on your lower lip. what would make his baby so nervous? shit, maybe, you'll let him have your ass for the first time—

"press your hands to your back."

maybe not.

"no. wanna touch you." you knew this would happen.

"please? pleaasee?" you whine.

"no, sweetheart. not doing that. i need to feel you up." jungkook shakes his head.

"c'mon, kook. for me? pretty please?" you smile. you smile so beautifully that it almost makes jungkook drop down to his knees. fuck, was he down bad.

"yea, yea, fine." he grunts, hands pinned to his back now. you happily scoot over, grabbing the roll of ribbons and tying them around jungkook's wrists.

so that's what they were for? jungkook thinks.

when he thought you were finally done, he watches you bend downwards to tie two bows around his naked thighs. then you proceed to do the same to his biceps.

"i feel like a coquette porcelain doll."

"you are! my princess." you hold up his face by his chin, squeezing his cheeks again.

"i hope nobody ever finds out about this." jungkook groans.

nah. jungkook doesn't care. he didn't give a shit, to be honest. you were his girl. he'd put on anything you give him. hell, he'd walk around naked in the streets if you had asked him. with you, he became vulnerable. something he never was before. he'd put on the girliest princess dress and go out if you had asked. in fact, jungkook would rather be proud. to call you his girl of course :). "my girl made me wear this."

"don't worry, won't tell anyone." you kiss the tip of his nose as a reward. you gently push his back by his shoulders, making him rest against the sofa.

perfect! your boyfriend looked like a coquette princess. he looked yummy.

for a second, your mind goes blank, utterly blank. what do you do now? you've never switched the roles during sex...yet. you've always been the submissive one while jungkook handled everything.

"need help?" jungkook's shiteating grin just motivates you to do better. you'll prove him wrong. yeah!

you mutter a small no. you begin by kneeling down in front of your boyfriend, right in between his legs. his hard on was very visible through the thin material of his black calvein klein boxers, even staining it a little as well. you lean forward to press a kiss to where his tip was. licking some precum off the boxer as well.

jungkook hums in approval once you start to pepper kisses all over his boxers, finger hooking to the waistband of his boxers to pull them down. once you've fully taken them off, you begin by stroking the base of his cock up and down. very slowly.

the slow pace of your hands was slowly starting to drive jungkook mad. he wanted you to fasten up, or use your mouth, just do something that'll make him cum. but at the same time, he found it arousing. his girlfriend, usually the one who's begging to get fucked with a pillow in between her legs, taking control and using his cock however she pleased.

jungkook starts to thrust his cock into your hands, begging for more friction. and who are you to oppose. heh. you give in, moving your hands faster on his cock. meanwhile, you also leaned forward to kitten lick his red tip.

wrong. he so desperately wanted you to deepthroat his cock right now.

"fuck, baby, the things i would've done if i had my hands freed right now."

that's just for the play, by the way. only a fool would think that jungkook really felt trapped by those skimpy ribbons. he could easily break out. he's just letting you have your fun for now. you both knew that. such a good boyfie!

you giggle in response before spitting a globe of spit onto his cock. before it slides down his cock, you flatten your tongue on it and spread the spit all over his cockhead. you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, gently sucking on it.

you pull his tip out of your mouth with a pop. jungkook looks at you befuddled, then he tries to touch you. but oh—yeah, the ribbons. he thinks twice and settles on not breaking out of the ribbons.

you reach out your arm to grab the pillow on the couch, then placing it under your knees so that you could sit on it. it gave you some height as well. you look back at your boyfriend with a mischievous smile, then back down at your breasts. your arm travels to your back, your bra, and then slowly unhook it, letting the lingerie material fall down to reveal your perky breasts.

jungkook gasps, slowly putting the puzzle pieces together once you start massaging your breasts while eyeing his cock. shit. he bites his lower lip, watching the way the flesh of your breasts perfectly mold into your hands however you massage it.

your back was arched, chest popping out as you began to stroke his cock with your left hand. meanwhile, your fingers played with your breasts, rolling the little nub in between. jungkook didn't know where to look. your fresh nails set, pretty in pink with cute charms all over, looked so hypnotising wrapped around his cock. you were dripping, it was obvious as you constantly shifted your position on the pillow.

jungkook swears he sees stars once your hand leaves his cock to cup your breasts together and squeeze them. shit.

"put it in, baby." your voice was sultry once you spoke.

jungkook gladly thrusted his hips up, adjusting to the position a little because, well, can't use his hands. your boyfriend slides his cock in between your breasts with a groan, watching the way your breasts squeeze him in just right. he didn't need any lubricant, his cock was wet enough already with precum leaking from the tip.

jungkook begins to thrust his hips up and down sloppily. it was quite hard since his hands were tied. but you decided to help by thrusting your body forward and back to meet the pace of his thrusts. you stare at your boyfriend, whimpering prettily with a layer of sweat covering his face. he looked so pretty like this. cock desperately going in and out of the valley between your boobs. you were slowly starting to like this whole...taking control thing.

"you like this, kook?" you murmur.

your boyfriend laughs, grunting afterwards.

"are you trying to dirty talk to me?"

your eyebrows furrow, "ruined the moment."

he laughs again, tongue swiping over his lower lip. "talk to me. i like hearing your voice."

okay, now you're shy. what do you say now? you mentally cry.

you stay silent, but give him a little nod and continue to let him fuck into your boobs. the louder his moans got, the sloppier his thrusts became. jungkook breaks out a little whine, immediately shutting himself up after that. he's embarrassed, you can see it.

"come on, a little more. you're doing so good, baby." shiiiiit.

he fucks into you faster, but sloppier. just to make it a little easier (heh), you let a globe of spit slide down your chin and fall onto his cock.

"haa—" your boyfriend moans. and with one last thrust, a creamy liquid spurts out of his tip and lands on your chest, some on your chin as well. he could not believe that he came from just your tits. you let go of your breasts once he slips his cock out, sighing and plopping your forehead on the sofa.

you sit back to your previous position after a few seconds. your tits were covered in his cum. a sight to never forget. a sight to never forget, for sure! you snicker as you grabbed the camera on the coffee table behind you.

"where'd that come from?" jungkook talks.

you shush him with a kiss on his sensitive tip. what's gotten to you?

with the camera, you proceed to take multiple pictures of your breasts. squeezed against eachother, cum dripping from your nipples. to spice it more up, you bring in your boyfriend's (still hard) cock to the picture, playing it between your breasts.

"you're so cute, sweetheart. use my cock however you want." his back was resting on the sofa, half lidded eyes watching you use his cock for your cute little pictures.

"my girlfriend's a little whore? whom are you gonna show these pictures to? other guys?" you know he's joking, but you couldn't help but scoff.

"jus' you. i don't like other people. unlike you." you let go of his cock, letting it bounce back.

jungkook snickers, getting a kick out of annoying you.

"you're so mean!" you slap his chest hard.

"c'mon, baby." you place the camera back on the coffee table. pushing jungkook back, you climb onto his lap, strangling his thighs. you were sitting on his thigh, your crotch directly in contact with his skin. it was hard to not just fuck yourself on his thigh. but eh, maybe.

you moan once your clit touches his thigh. hand cupping your pussy, your index finger gently swipe over your clit a few times. so soft. you begin to rub it a little, flicking the little button over and over.

"having fun playing with yourself, princess? touch her nice and slow first, m'kay? add a finger after, she loves that." the way he was talking about your pussy as if it's completely something else around you so much. you lean back on your boyfriend's thigh, leg spread as your fingers played with your princess parts.

your fingers dip in between your folds, fingers getting coated in your wetness. humming in satisfaction with how wet it is, you seperate your folds with your fingers, forming a v shape. jungkook licks his lips, watching your arousal stick to your fingers.

"pinch her for me." jungkook groans once you obey his command, your own fingers pinching your clit for him. "that's right, sweetheart. now rub it slowly." you follow his words, rubbing your clit gently.

"mmh, i want you." you needed him so bad. wanted him to touch you and make you cum over and over. your fingers fasten at the thought, rubbing your clit harshly.

"you want me to touch you? just say the word and i'll touch you, sweet girl." you wanted to slap him across the face. you wanted his hands all over your body. but that meant removing the ribbons. you didn't want to lose control.

"say yes. i'll touch you good, sweetheart. make you feel just fine, yeah?" jungkook coos at the sight of your pussy compulsions. clenching and throbbing, begging for his touch.

"see, she wants me too. just look at her, baby. you have to let me touch her so i could help her out."

"mmmmgh!" you whine, not liking how this is going.

fuck it!

sitting back up on his lap, you pull on his hair to raise his head up so that you could kiss him harshly. you also manage to whine a "fine" in the middle. the moment jungkook got the que, he laughs, breaking out of those stupid little ribbons. your boyfriend lifts you up from below, your ass now sitting on his forearms as he harshly kissed you.

lips smacking eachother, sucking eachother's tongues and whatnot, jungkook didn't let you catch a breath. he was impatient. he wanted to eat you whole then and there.

"all of that just to take it off once i open my mouth, huh? that cock hungry?" jungkook speaks he removes his mouth from you. you just nod, not having any other words to say.

"lay down, pretty."

you impatiently lay down, stumbling on the pillows while you do it. your back was resting on the arm of the sofa with your leg raised up, your boyfriend getting in between your legs. he takes off his tank top with a smirk, throwing it and letting it land wherever in his room. jungkook takes in the sight in front of him.

you sprawled in front of him, pussy dripping while wearing those slutty little panties. what's even point if your whole cunt's exposed? slut, slut, slut. his slut, though. the sparkling jewellery laying on the swell of your breasts catches his attention next. your boyfriend touches it, caressing the charm with his palm.

J.

he liked that a lot. you were his. his woman, his person, his everything in every possible way. you were the love of his life, his trophy. he carried you around like a trophy. always showing you off to his friends and everyone else.

"my girlfriend"

"my girlfriend"

"my girlfriend"

"my girlfriend"

his eyes sparkled as he leaned down to press a small kiss on the charm. you could feel your boyfriend's warm breath hitting your lips. jungkook licks his lower lip, beginning to kiss your neck. he licks over an area, nuzzling into your shoulder. his left cheek was pressed against your shoulder blade, fingers running down your arm. you literally got goosebumps at his touch. he was so gentle and loving. as if he was treasuring you and your body. worshipping you.

"you're so beautiful, baby. how'd i get so lucky." your breath hitches at his praises, watching jungkook praise the shit out of you while kissing every inch of your body.

the moment he gropes both of your breasts at the same time by those large manly hands, i swear you almost came on the spot. your pussy desperately clench around nothing with your back arched, a small moan escaping your lips. your boyfriend laughs at your reaction, aware of how aroused you've become at this point.

"you want me to finally touch her now?" he signals at your pussy. your head jolts upwards, frantically nodding with a few yesses leaving your lips.

"pleasure." jungkook begins to circle your pretty clit meanwhile his other hand caressed the insides of your thigh, easing you down. your boyfriend slowly lays down on his stomach, face now completely aligned with your glistening pussy.

"hello there, sweetheart." you whine again—shit, you might as well just cum right now—jungkook's hand suddenly holds your hand, intervening them together. his chin lays on top of your crotch as he looked at you one more time, eyes showing nothing but pure affection towards to.

jungkook places a kiss on top of your clit, tongue gently swiping over the sensitive nub.

"pretty girl." his tongue entered your pussy to lick away all your arousal. you were moaning, pussy clenching at the sensation. it was good, god, his tongue, but it wasn't good enough to make you cum. you knew he was doing this on purpose. not sinking his tongue deeper into your cunt, jungkook just laps on your pussy and enjoys the taste of your wetness.

"so sweet." his fingers joined the party to rub slow and sensual circles on your clit. this was a sight to watch indeed. your boyfriend feasted on your pussy as if he was a starved man.

everything felt so good. he made sure to pull away once you feel like coming as well. meanie.

"keep it in, i need you to milk my cock, not my face." you do nothing but nod.

once he felt satisfied enough by your sloppy cunt, he pulls away to look at you. you notice how puffy his lips looked from all that making out with your pussy. that makes the two of you i guess!

jungkook grins, jacking off his hard cock. he was bricked up, of course. one look at you and it was over for him. you looked like you were straight out of a porno.

"i'm gonna stuff you full of my cock, baby. you would like that, wouldn't you?" he huffs, eyeing your dripping pussy and that pretty little face of yours.

"you make me so cock drunk, jungkook ;(" your manicured toes poke his thigh, foot almost about touch his cock until he playfully pushes it away with a laugh. "patience."

"look at how pretty these are." you hook a finger under the trap of your crotchless panties, pulling on it and letting the material slap back into place. "bought it just for you." there's a proud little grin on your face.

"yeah? who's card did you use?"

you hesitate for a moment, but answer. "mine."

jungkook pauses, eyebrow raising followed with a slap on your thigh.

"i've told you so many times to use my card but you never do. do i have to fuck the thought into you now?"

"uh-huh. jus' doesn't feel right to use your money for your own surprise." you pout.

"i don't care. i've clearly told you to use my card whenever you want."

"noooooo," you whine, "my friends are already calling you my sugar daddy!"

"then let them." he laughs, tracing your folds with his fingers. jungkook pushes two fingers in at once, beginning to scissor them in.

"ngh! i want your cock! not your fingers...!"

"gotta prep you, sweetheart." he fastens the pace of your fingers inside you, contemplating whether to add a third one in or not. eh, just do it. he stretches your cunt out with all three fingers while his other hand drew invisible doodles on your cute tummy.

once he feels like you're stretched out enough, he carefully pulls his fingers out, licking them clean afterwards. it was so nasty, yet so arousing.

without anymore waiting, jungkook's cock was already slipped in with no problems. he gives you a second to adjust to his cock as you shifted in your position, making yourself comfortable. once you gave him the okay signal, your boyfriend begins to give you those heavenly thrusts of his.

"haaa." you take a deep breath in, hands holding jungkook's shoulders for support. his pace wasn't fast, it was rather slow and sensual. he took his time with you. it was slow, he touched every inch and corner of your pussy this way. it was perfect. your mushy walls molded into whatever he wanted.

"nygh. ~" you let out small whines and moans, loving the way his cock slides in and out of you. it just felt so good.

"you're so amazing, please never stop." you speak out followed by a gasp, making jungkook chuckle. "never stoppin', sweetheart."

his face was buried in your neck, inhaling in your scent. your boyfriend licked your earlobe, tugging on it with his teeth a few times.

he begins to fasten his pace around you once he felt you clenching around him repeatedly. you moan out a long whine, the heel of your foot now digging into his asscheek while he pounded his cock into you. at this point, your moans had already sinked in together, turning out harmonically.

"you close?" your boyfriend leans down to whisper in your ear. you just nod, not really having the energy to speak words. you were fucked. you looked so fucked out from his dick, it was unreal. he loved this look on you, though. eyes half lidded, lips formed in an 'o' shape and breasts jumping up and down.

"shit, gonna drive me crazy." he lightly slaps your cheek. but you lean into his hand, wanting more of his touch.

soon you feel your orgasm coming in. ah, shit, clawing your nails into jungkook's shoulders, you just close your eyes and cum. jungkook's eyes were glued to your pussy as your juice milked his cock good. there was a white ring formed around his cock, making him smirk.

soon, jungkook cums as well, very well triggered by the pleasure from your orgasm. but he looks at you, asking whether he could cum inside or not. once you give him your approval, jungkook wastes no time to completely empty his balls into your cunt. he fucked you through his high, fucking his cum deeper into your pussy. it's fine, you were on birth control anyway.

he slowly pulled out of you, not letting you get hurt or anything. and then he just threw himself over your body. "oh!" you giggle a little. your boyfriend licked your cheek and bit it as if he was about to take a big bite out of his favourite food.

he leaned back to watch his cum drip down from your pussy. "heh." jungkook collects the liquid with his finger then guides it to your lips. you happily wrap your lips around them.

"can't let a drop go to waste."

you laugh, hitting his chest playfully. you spent another few minutes laying on top of eachother until you decided to break the silence.

"so, did you like my surprise?"

you knew damn well he LOVED it. you just wanted to hear the story.

"best surprise ever, sweet girl." he caresses your cheek with the back of his index finger.

"happy valentines day, my love ♡"

"happy valentines day, jungkook ♡"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @fungie2332 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts jk #bts smut #jungkook smut #smut #text au #coquette #ribbons and bows #pink #jungkook x you #bts x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook bts #bts fluff #fluff #fanfiction #bts fanfic

[makelemonade]

BEST FRIENDS TO FUCK FRIENDS - GENSHIN MEN

Warnings; NSFW, (18+), Female Reader, implied to have a big chest (not crazy big like be realistic) and a GYATT (sorry), p in v sex, seductiveness, implied squiring, a little sprinkle of degradation (use of the word “slut”), Semi-Public, unwanted pics (He wanted them), mentions of jerking off/masturbation, sinful thoughts of your best friend, raw sex, idk tell me if I missed anything, HORRIBLY WRITTEN SMUT. ITS SO BAD.

Notes; I was supposed to write this for Thoma originally so if this name is somewhere in here…ignore it. If you like this, support me on kofi! Link in masterlist!

You’ve been his best friend since secondary school, and you couldn’t deny the feelings you had for him within high school.

You always denied it though, because you just couldn’t ruin the friendship. But, now you’re both in university, stuff changes and you definitely grew some stuff..

Your feelings for him turn into sexual desires when you realize it’s been a long time since you’ve done anything. You’ve been so occupied with university that you couldn’t even spend some time on yourself…

What sets everything off is when he invites you to his house in the spring to swim. Seeing those abs and the water dripping off his chest…holy shit. Is it bad you wanted to lick all that water off or?

You bring up the topic of friends with benefits, but not between you two (yet), just what he thinks of it.

When he isn’t opposed to one with a friend, that’s what changes your mindset completely. You knew he wasn’t the best at making those type of moves, but with your assets…

It starts a week later when you ask to sleepover at his house after a party. He agrees.

This is gonna sound crazy, but you purposely puked over yourself by drinking too much so he could give you his shirt. You decided, that not wearing any shorts was now your way of sleeping!

So, here you were in his room, in his shirt, black underwear that was hardly covered, and a bed for the both of you to share.

He gulped, lingering for a while but said nothing and just got into bed. He was gonna think about your ass for a while.

You got in beside him, and maybe an hour later if he’s asleep and you’re not, you’ll secretly inch yourself closer to him, so when he wakes up and finds your hardly covered ass rubbing against him, he’ll have to go to the bathroom.

What sets him off completely is in the morning when you stretch, your arms going up and exposing your bare legs and stomach. He couldn’t stop staring.

The next step isn’t too far away; Maybe 2 weeks later. He invited you to come for a swim again, and this one was a hard decision between a bikini or a horribly fabricated shirt that exposed everything.

You decided to go for a bikini that didn’t have the best fabric, so when it got wet…

“A bikini?” He spoke. “What happened to your shorts and shirts?” You usually never went with bikinis, if it wasn’t obvious already.

You shrugged. “Change of habit.”

The cold water made your nipples pop, going through the fabric completely. Did I mention the bikini was also white?

This, is what gets him thinking about you a lot from now on.

Later in the week you’re FaceTiming him, and he noticed the change in clothes. You’re wearing a dress from HIGH SCHOOL. It was so small that the side of your breasts were out.

He had no shame in hiding the fact he was staring at them the entire FaceTime.

In the middle of taking, you pretended to drop your phone by your leg, but he didn’t expect that when you’d pick it up, he’d catch a glimpse of his favourite colour as your tight panties before you quickly moved the phone back up.

He has to hang up 5 minutes later.

Now, your next idea is gonna sound absolutely horrible.

You took pictures of yourself, none of you naked but had a sexy lingerie set in his favourite colour and sent them to him on Messages

And 2 seconds later you’re spamming him on Snapchat,

DON’T OPEN MY IMESSAGE

IGNORE IT

I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND IT TO YOU.

Now, he’s curious, so of course he tells you he won’t look and says he’ll delete the chat.

But really he’ll save them to his phone and definitely jerk off to them.

Now, the next step is the final step, and takes the most courage.

You invite him out to the club, wearing a sexy right black dress that showed your curves perfectly.

Since this was gonna take up a lot of courage, you took maximum 2 shots to get your mindset a little changed for this.

He takes the same amount you do, and you’ve both been to multiple parties where you’ve gotten blackout drunk; 2 shots would make sure you’d remember everything.

When the both of you make your way to the dance floor, you’re shaking, but you keep telling yourself you can do this.

The next song plays and you’re both dancing together,

And the next thing he knew, you’ve turned around and you’re grinding your ass right on his pelvis. He freezes for a bit, and you’re scared; Have you gone too far?

But suddenly, his hands are on your hips and he’s moving the two of you to the rhythm, keeping your ass pressed against him.

You dance like this for another minute or 2 and then he moves his arms up around your waist, pulling your back against his chest as he starts to kiss your neck, sucking on it.

You let out moans, wishing he could hear them.

One hand makes its way up to grope your tit, he could already feel your nipple with how tight your dress was. “No bra?” He spoke into your ear so seductively, making you whimper.

He then grab your arms, dragging you to the washroom.

~~~

The small washroom mirror is steamed as your pressed against it, sat atop the sink, the both of you sloppily making out as his dick pushed in and out of of your cunt, your fluids dripping all over your thighs.

“Fucking slut,” He grunted, throwing his head back at the pure bliss. “You knew what you’ve been doing, haven’t you? All those, fuck, pictures? The bikini?”

You just grinned, tongue lolling out as your eyes rolled back into your head. “Nghh- fuck!”

He slapped the side of your ass, “Tell me how much of a slut you are, since you wanna be treated like one”

“Mmm- FUCK! I’m a slut, I’m your fucking slut, nghh~!”

“Good girl,” He panted, fucking into you harder. “I dreamed of this.” He groaned, laughing. “Fucking this tight pussy. It-fuck! Belongs to me now.”

Somehow, his thrusts became even harder, making you scream as you clawed at this back, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Don’t stop!”

“Scream louder, maybe you’ll beat the music,” He snorted, and you wanted to slap the grin off his face, but you’re met with pure bliss as you meet your high.

“I’m cumming!Imcummingimcumming!”

You screamed as your fluids gushed all over his pelvis and he kept fucking into you. Maybe you beat the music.

It didn’t take long until he came into you. Ropes of his warm seed plastering your insides. He panted, resting his head on your shoulder.

You both stayed like that for a few minutes, the both of you too overstimulated to move.

At some point he pulled out, making you whine. His cum was starting to spill out and he shook his head, shoving 2 fingers in.

“Let’s go back to my place, I’m not done with you yet.”

-THOMA, ITTO, ALHAITHAM, KAVEH, AYATO, Tighnari, Albedo, CYNO, CHILDE, Pantalone, DILUC, Kaeya, ZHONGLI, Xiao, NEUVILLETTE, Wriothesly

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #alhaitham x reader #genshin smut #diluc smut #thoma smut #ayato smut #itto smut #neuvillete smut #wriothesly smut #albedo smut #kaveh smut #tighnari smut #cyno smut #xiao smut #childe smut #pantalone smut #kaeya smut #zhongli smut #genshin impact smut

[whorekneecentral]

Only The Best For You

Kimi Raikkonen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad's best friend!kimi, reader is 20/21 - reader is old enough to make her own decisions, your dad isn't pleased with the gift, one mention of alcohol and one mention of death, sexual tension, kinda power imbalance, kimi gives into the intrusive thoughts, nipple play, fingering for like 0.2 seconds, one use of the word 'daddy' in a sexual way, penetrative sex (p in v), gagging, finger sucking, 'whore' used in a sexual/degrading term.

Word Count: 2,400

Author's Note: for all my dad best friend freaks and the kimi whores, this one's for you <3 -- also ignore that it's gucci in the pic but it's something different in the fic loool I couldn't find a different pic I liked.

merry smutmas series

--

Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly.

An old L/N family tradition.

Since you were a child, your parents and grandparents allowed you to open one gift from them on Christmas eve, letting you enjoy the magic of Christmas a few hours early.

You were grown up now, in college and your grandparents had sadly passed on but your parents kept the tradition going. You had come home for Christmas break and it was Christmas Eve. Your parents have just finished dinner and you have moved to the living room.

It was yourself, your parents and your dad's best friend, Kimi. You had known Kimi your whole life practically but he was always away racing so you never saw much of him until lately, now that he's officially retired - for good this time.

"Shall we open gifts?" Your father asks, walking into the living room. He passed a glass of what looks like whiskey to Kimi, who was next to you, before sitting beside your mother.

She looks over at her husband. "Honey, isn't she too grown for that?"

Your father rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "It's a family tradition, now hush. Go pick a present."

Your mum picks first, picking one from your father that just so happened to be the new perfume she wanted. Your father was next and he picked out one from you. It's a story book he used to read to you as a kid, you had written all of your favourite memories of the two of you inside of it. You made him cry, both you and Kimi laughing about that.

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Your father nods towards the tree, you move from the couch to the floor, kneeling in front of the tree to pick out a gift.

A gift sticks out to you; red wrapping paper with little elves of it and your name written in cursive across the front of it. You pick it up, shaking it a bit to see what was in it.

It felt hard, as if it was a box. You looked towards your parents, "is it from you guys?"

Your dad looks towards your mom; she took care of all of the holiday shopping. The woman shakes her head, "it's not from us, sweetie."

The gift on your lap when you glance over your shoulder at Kimi. He gives you a small smile, so small you almost miss it.

He nods towards the gift, waiting for you to open it. You rip the wrapping paper very carefully, revealing the red box underneath; the gold lettering was cursive - Cartier.

Your jaw was already dropping, looking back at the man. "You didn't," you say and he nods again, waiting for you to open the box to see what was inside.

"Kimi, what did you do?" Your mother asks, looking over at your father. He was never one for brands or jewellery, he didn't realize that buying something there automatically was an expensive purchase.

Lifting the cover carefully, the velvet black fabric inside the box held a white gold chain, blue sapphires set along the entire thing.

If your jaw wasn't already on the floor, it would be now. "Kimi!" You turned to face the man, setting the box on the couch carefully. "You did not!"

"I did," he nods. He's always been a man of very few words; more of an action rather than words type of guy.

"What is it?" Your father asks and you hand the red box over to him for him to see.

He shows your mother as he holds the box, he doesn't realize that he's holding a little over €40,000 in his hands at the moment. "Oh Kimi, it's beautiful." Your mother gushes, handing it back over to you.

You were still on the floor, admiring the necklace in the box. "Well, turn around." Kimi says and you do, sitting just between his legs.

He reaches over to take the box from you and carefully takes the chain out of its box before you lift your hair. Kimi leans forwards and you can feel his fingers brush against your skin and his breath on your shoulders when he loops it around your neck and hooks the clasp.

"It looks gorgeous on you, darling." Your mom says, smiling at you.

Your phone's in one hand and your other hand gently touches the chain, straightening it as you admired how it looked on you. "Kimi, this is too much. It's so expensive." You whisper to him and he shrugs.

"How expensive are we talking?" Your father finally speaks, looking over at his friend.

Kimi answers nonchalantly; "Like.. €40,000."

Your father instantly sits up, his jaw hanging open. "What?! Kimi, are you out of your mind?"

"Please," he looks over at his friend in disapproval. His hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb passing over your soft skin. "She's a good girl, she deserves it."

You can't help but shift a bit when he calls you a good girl, the words hitting you right where you shouldn't. It was wrong, he was your father's friend and you were.. well, you were attracted to him. You couldn't deny it; Kimi was an attractive man and despite his lack of words, he was very charming.

"Y/n, say thank you. You can't not say it when he's spent so much." Your father tells you, and you turn around to face Kimi.

"Thank you, Kimi," you smiled at him, sitting on your knees when you reached up to give the man a hug. His arms wrapped around you, his warm hand pressed to your back. "You're welcome, angel."

Another nickname that hits you in all the wrong places.

--

As the night goes on, your parents head up for bed as do you. Kimi was the last one to bed from your understanding and as the house grew quiet, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

You find yourself sat on your bed, pjs on - a tank top and a pair of shorts with a €40,000 chain around your neck.

It was nearing 3am, the witching hours as your mum says. You find yourself getting up and heading downstairs. The initial thought was to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water but you got side tracked when you see a light coming from Kimi's room.

You knock, peeking around the space left between the door frame and the actual door. "Come in," he waves to you and you step in, shutting the doors behind you. The TV was on, a rerun of some show you couldn't quite place was on.

"What are you doing up?" He asks, glancing at his phone to check the time. "Do you know how late it is?"

"I couldn't sleep," you tell him, looking over at the TV. "Can I join you?"

He shrugs, nodding towards the empty space next to him. You quietly make your way over, sitting next to him on the bed. Kimi don't miss the way your shorts hike up when you crawl over to the empty spot; it's so wrong for him to be looking at you like that but can you blame the man? You were gorgeous and you were in his bed after all.

The two of you sit quietly, watching as the show rolls on into another episode. You unconsciously play with the chain, shifting it back and forth slowly.

Kimi looks over at you, smiling to himself; you were the picture of beauty.

"You're staring," you mumble, glancing at him. He smiles, like actually smiles. "You're beautiful."

Your cheeks are red, you hope that the light coming from the tv isn't bright enough for him to realize that just yet.

"It looks good on you," he says, "like it was made for you."

"Blue has always been my favourite colour." You smiled, glancing down at the chain. "Did you pick it yourself?"

He nods, "I saw it and thought of you, I figured you'd like it."

"I do, very much." You look over at him, Kimi smiles at you and your hand shifts from your thigh to his, rubbing along it softly. Kimi's brows furrow ever so slightly. He doesn't say anything, hoping that you'd stop if he ignores it.

You were persistent.

Your hand travels higher, about to rub over the ever so evident bulge in his shorts but Kimi catches your hand, holding your wrist. "We can't, y/n."

"Why not?"

"It's wrong," he whispers, glancing at the door - you weren't sure if he wanted you to leave or if he was catching to see if it was locked. You wiggle your hand from his grasp, Kimi lets out a small breath of relief; see, the man was stupid enough to think you were stopping.

You didn't stop. Instead, you got on his lap, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. Kimi's hand rests on your lower back as he looks at you.

"Let me thank you properly," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.

Kimi reaches up, his lips pressed to yours but he's yet to kiss you. "You don't have too."

"I want to.. I want you," you mumbled, finally kissing the man. Your hand cupping his jaw, Kimi's hand slips under the tank top you had on and slides up your back to undo your bra but finds you don't have one on.

Kimi pushes the straps of your tank top down off your shoulders. You sat comfortably on his lap, letting him have his way with you and the man wanted one thing. He leans forward, arms wrapped around you as his lips wrap around your nipple.

“Kimi, fuck- please.” You mumble, your hand tangled in his blonde hair, tugging on it. As such as you loved the attention, you needed him.

He glances up at you, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. He groans when you pull on his hair a little harder but what's a little pain when he's making you feel good?

It was heavy, heated.

His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Kimi's hands on your ass when he kissed you again.

Not a word is spoken between the two of you and what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over. You were flat on your back with Kimi settled between your legs.

“Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “daddy, please.”

The pet name makes his cock twitch; it's sinful, so sinful in so many ways but he couldn't care less. You drove him mad.

His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.

Kimi’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.

He moves his finger slowly, curling it. He takes pleasure in watching you, seeing how your face twists and how your body reacts to his touch.

"Please," you whimpered, "don't make me wait."

Kimi can't bring himself to say no to you.

He sits, pushing his shorts down and you get the hint, getting on top of him. Your hands grip on his shoulders, balancing yourself. Your knees on either side of his lap, Kimi's hand reaches under you to help you, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit, making your hip shift forward a bit. His free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him, his name tumbling from your lips.

You take a moment to get used to the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs along your lower back, leaning into you to kiss down your neck.

You rock your hips forward and Kimi's head drops back, his eyes now closed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips now on his neck - a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.

He pulls one of your legs up forward, pulling you down further. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Kimi's hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit.

Your head falls back, manicured nails digging into his pale skin when he hits the spot he was looking for. He watches as you bounce on his lap, the sapphires around your neck bouncing in rhythm with you. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Your brows furrowed, an excited look on your face despite it all. You can feel his cock twitch in you, his lips next to your ear when he leans in.

"You've got to be quiet, angel. Wouldn't want them to catch you being a whore for me, hm?

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. Your tongue laps around his fingers, Kimi watches as you suck on them. There's a wicked smile on his face, his hips lifting to meet you halfway.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure. Kimi leans forward as his lips wrap around your nipple. His tongue lapped over your nipple, biting on it softy; just enough to get you to arch your back, pushing into him.

“Come on darling,” he mumbles against your skin, now kissing up to your collarbone. Kimi's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back.

Your heart beats out of your chest as you catch your breath. Kimi smiles, kissing along your shoulder. "Feel good?" He asks and you mumble something, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I take it I should spoil you more often, hm?" He chuckles, making you smile when you sit up. Kimi straightens your necklace, kissing your chin.

You shake your head and smile. "Don't have to spoil me for me to do that."

Kimi smiles at you, giving you a kiss. "Merry Christmas, y/n."

"Merry Christmas, Kimi."

--

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr  @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#kimi raikkonen #kimi raikkonen smut #kimi raikkonen x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut #merry smutmas xoxo

[norrizzandpia]

this is about oscar? part 3 but its freak by doja cat 🙏🏻

I fear y/n has released an entire album this time lol @golden-flora

The Album (OP81)

Summary: She’s done singles, one song at a time about her and Oscar’s sex life, but, now, she’s ready for a whole album.

Warnings: dirtiest one of the series, sexual discussions, Oscar being cocky

Note: THE NEXT INSTALLMENT OF THE WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI SERIES IS HERE EVERYONE!!!! Hope you like it, i added some new things. First, as you know, y/n releases an album here, but, also, at the end, instead of smau, it’s just a regular story abt them on a podcast 🤭

y/nnn Oscar, the album, out tonight with a track list of Freak, Agora Hills, Dick, and Pussy Poppin 🤭

Comments:

Mclarensgirly SHE NAMED THE WHOLE THING OSCAR IM FUCKING CRYING

F1fan2023 using a photo McLaren took is cray

- y/nnn say it with me everyone: he looks hot!

- Mclarensgirly he looks hot!

- ln4andop81 he looks hot!

- f1fan81 he looks hot!

landonorris plz. plz don’t release it. I’ve never felt terror like this in my entire life after seeing that track list

- y/nnn don’t you put your life on the line every weekend to drive a car?

- landonorris yes.

oscarpiastri anyone want to come to the listening party?

- Danielricciardo no.

- landonorris absolutely fucking not

- logansargeant YOU THINK IM GOING TO BE LISTENING TO THESE???

- y/nnn y’all are some fake ass bitches

oscarpiastri haha have fun everyone!!!

- ln4andop81 mans is enjoying himself

- oscarpiastri more than enjoying myself

- landonorris like I’ll literally kill you

—

TWITTER

Mclarensgirly i would just like to say that this is the man all those songs are about

- ln4andop81 i mean she did say “tied him down to my queen bed” in freak so that pic does fit the sub allegations

- f1fan2023 she also said “love it when he hit and smack too” in agora hills

- Mclarensgirly also said “hold me down, when a hole need dick”

- f1fan81 also said “he want a quickie, let him lick me, then I started gasping. The way his tongue be going crazy, you wouldn’t imagine. I let him stick me, hair got frizzy, I might let him crash it”

- Mclarensgirly also said “He put that woo all down my throat until i started coughing.”

- ln4andop81 OKAY OKAY I GET IT 😭

- ln4andop81 but also like… lets talk abt it

- Mclarensgirly IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

- f1fan2023 “he like it when i bend it over and i arch my back. He tap me on my shoulders, i said ‘yeah, i like that’” YOURE KIDDING.

- ln4andop81 i envision that in my head at night

- Mclarensgirly oh?

- ln4andop81 moving on! “Pull the panties to the side, watch a movie and make it two. We just finished number one, but I’m ready for round two” YUM.MY.

- F1fan81 sometimes i wonder if I’m jealous of Oscar or jealous of y/n

- Mclarensgirly real.

- ln4andop81 we also need to talk about Dick bc she literally goes “i met the boy in the 6, but measurements wasn’t a six” UHHHHHHH

- f1fan2023 it baffles me that he’s packing that seriously

- ln4andop81 nothing baffles me when it comes to that boy now that y/n sang “When I made a little mess on it, he told me to clean my act up” BRUHHHH THATS FUCKING HOT AS SHIT

- Mclarensgirly “Skirt up, fuck in the backseat. Take that shirt off, baby, put it on me. Got me like ‘yeehow’, ride it like a horsey. Kinda like seesaw, up and down on the D, give it to him” McLaren’s kicking and crying rn bc they know they cant take their car back from Oscar after y/n confirmed they christened it

- f1fan2023 okay okay but can we talk about “suck a little dick in the bathroom” in agora hills (slay song btw i ate that shit up)

- ln4andop81 YEAH BC IM GOING TO NEED SOME MORE INFO THAN THAT. WHEN. WHERE. WHAT.

- F1fan81 i bet your ass it was in the mtc

- ln4andop81 or in the Australian Grand Prix paddock remember when no one could find him after the face was over and all he said he was with y/n? SHE HAD TO HAVE BEEN GIVING HIM CELEBRATORY HEAD

- Mclarensgirly honestly? They prob did it in both

- oscarpiastri mhm

—

Oscar and Y/n sat next to each other on the soft sofa of the studio. They giggled with the podcast host as she said their introduction.

“Breaking the internet right now with their sex life, Oscar Piastri and Y/n Y/l/n! Hi, guys, welcome.” Samantha, the host, spoke to them.

Y/n and Oscar mumbled pleasantries, their legs squished together even with all the space to Y/n’s left. The woman was quick to getting into the topic of conversation, having already discussed boundaries with the couple before the cameras started rolling.

“So, Y/n, you’ve just released a small album that focuses mostly on Oscar and the things you two get up to in the bedroom. Were you ever nervous to share these songs with the world?”

Y/n nodded, “At first, yeah, all the way back when we started with 34+35, but it got easier once I saw the overwhelming support for it. I think the best part about releasing them is seeing the jokes that the fans make about Oscar and that side of him.”

Samantha smiled, “That leads me to my next question, Oscar, were you ever nervous to have people know about that side of you? Seeing as it was such a shocker.”

He laughed as he adjusted his position, throwing an arm around his girlfriend, “Um, well, I didn’t think it was that shocking. We didn’t expect people to go haywire over hearing that I lean more towards the dominant side. We kind of assumed people inferred that.”

Samantha’s jaw dropped, “Really?! Oh! I’ll be honest, I was quite surprised when I heard it.”

Y/n shook her head, “I don’t know, I guess the way Oscar is in front of cameras is drastically different from how he actually is. He’s still very soft spoken and quiet, but a bit more outgoing.”

Samantha nodded as she glanced over her next question, “Oscar, what’s your favorite song off this album?”

“Oh, I am so ready for this. Agora Hills.” He answered immediately, smiling proudly at the others in the room.

Y/n turned to look at him, “Really?! Why?!”

His head leaned from side to side, “Just, it’s more romantic? I mean, you talk about tying the knot alongside the sex stuff.”

Y/n and Samantha laugh at his comment, Samantha agreeing, “No, I see what you’re saying. Y/n, you do say you want to show him off multiple times throughout the song.”

“Because I do!” She exclaimed, leaning into her boyfriend lovingly.

He kissed her temple, listening intently to Samantha.

“Your interactions with the fans are hilarious. Do you guys look forward to fucking with them?”

“Hell yeah!” Oscar exclaimed, “Once I caught wind of the fact that they didn’t think I did shit in the bedroom, I became very obnoxious when rubbing what happens between Y/n and I in their faces.”

Y/n cooed jokingly, “Aw, Osc, was your masculinity damaged?”

He rolled his eyes at her, laughing at her dig and pushing her away softly. They came back together, though.

“Before we move on from this subject, I want to ask Y/n, was the over six inches comment really true?” Samantha eyed her as Y/n glanced beside her at Oscar, silently asking him if she could do what he knew she wanted to do.

He nodded at her, shaking his head lightly as she said, “A lady never kisses and tells.”

Silence passed as she raised her hands and aimed them around nine inches apart. Winking suggestively at the camera, the women in the room gasped.

“IS THAT NINE INCHES?!” Samantha screamed, causing all of them to fall into a fit of giggles.

Y/n brought the microphone to her mouth and whispered, “Oh, yeah, it is.”

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #mclaren formula 1 #lando norris #oscar piasstri #oscar pia #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #daniel ricciardo #logan sargeant

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Margaret Lindsay (Frisco Kid, The House of the Seven Gables, Scarlet Street)—she was born in Dubuque, Iowa, then moved to England to make her stage debut. She framed herself as a British actress and moved back to America to try Hollywood, then starred with James Cagney in a bunch of movies. She was in the Ellery Queen movie series and The House of the Seven Gables. She never married (I suspect lesbian stuff) but lived with her sisters. She dated Cesar Romero and Liberace (I told you. Lesbian stuff.) Please include the pic of her in the tie [included above]

Mae West (She Done Him Wrong, I'm No Angel)—She is an absolute icon, the OG sex symbol. Every word from her mouth was an innuendo and she was proud of it. I guess one could say she slayed. She got Cary Grant his first acting role, as well. How could you NOT vote for someone who says such iconic stuff as "I do all my writing in bed; everybody knows I do my best work there" or "You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." SHE COINED THE PHRASE "IS THAT A GUN IN YOUR POCKET OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME?" I LOVE HER!!!

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Margaret Lindsay:

Mae West:

Her voice! Her body! She was thick as hell and SO confident.

Mae West is often called the queen of the sexual pun or innuendo, she was an early sex symbol and a comedy icon. She also has a quote saying "When I am good, I am very good. But when I am bad I am better!" which is possibly the peak of hot girl energy ever. (Including the clip here)

for an era that didn't have much wiggle room when it came to women that studios wanted in their films, it's refreshing that she was in her late 30s when she skyrocketed to movie fame. she was also curvy and witty and raunchy, an absolute icon!

Legendary sex symbol. Like 500 vintage iconic quotes and double entendres. "Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? " "When I'm good, I'm very good. But when I'm bad, I'm better" / "It's not the men in your life that count, it's the life in your men" / "I feel like a million tonight. But one at a time." , "Marriage is a fine institution, but I'm not ready for an institution. " / " How tall are you without your horse? Six foot, seven inches. Never mind the six feet. Let's talk about the seven inches! " Look the pictures don't do her justice just watch a compilation and tell me that voice doesn't do it for you

She was a SEX GODDESS at a time when that was an extremely scandalous thing to be, and she worked it! She was sardonic, sarcastic, funny...and stacked! Favorite quote (from Night After Night, 1933): Random woman: Goodness! What beautiful diamonds! Mae West: Goodness had nothin' to do with it, dearie.

i personally love this silly production number from one of her lesser known movies

She was arrested for indecency and chose to serve 10 days in prison instead of paying the fine for the publicity, and she claimed that she refused to wear the ugly prison outfits so she wore her silk lingerie the entire time. Also one of the first historybound vintage fashion icons (although vintage for her was the Victorian era)

#mae west #margaret lindsay #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

[tossawary]

I finished Volume 3 of SVSSS, which encompasses the main story, and currently have my bookmark sitting at the first chapter of the Airplane Extras in Volume 4. I took a bunch of quote pics but have yet to review them and add thoughts.

Every time I read SVSSS, I forget how... incredible... the inside of Shen Yuan's head is. He's fascinating.

Like, he's misogynistic (even while criticizing Airplane's own misogynistic writing), he's homophobic, AND he's transphobic. Not in a way where I think he thinks anyone deserves fewer rights than anyone else (I think he's generally a nice person, although, holy shit, I would not trust this man to craft policy of any kind) or would prevent anyone from living however they chose to live, a lot of his problematic bullshit stays inside his own head as he tries to understand the world around him using the stallion novel formulas he was given, but he's carrying around SO MUCH unexamined bias that supports his refusal to examine himself and his own desires.

Some of it reads (presumably intentionally) a LOT like the kind of conflicting, problematic bullshit a lot of queer people carry around inside their heads as they struggle to untangle themselves and their beliefs.

And while I do wish that Shen Yuan had been forced to confront and address his misogyny and transmisogyny even further than it does come up (in part because it is DEFINITELY affecting the way he thinks about gay men as well, including and especially Binghe), I do kind of... appreciate on some level that he thinks this way? From a character standpoint? Because I think it's probably realistic for a privileged young man spending a lot of time on the internet reading shit like PIDW to look at the world this way. And it's clear even through his own narration that his blindness in certain areas is causing him a lot of trouble. While I do have criticisms and personal wishes, I do appreciate the depiction of personal character development that is just... a cringeworthy mess of internalized bullshit the whole fucking time.

Also, it's SO funny to me that he reads as SO aro-ace-spectrum to me (probably gay, but generally detached from sexuality and possibly also partially from gender) AND he actually knows... the word asexual, I don't think he has a very broad understanding of asexuality... but he knows the word and yet doesn't personally identify that way. He mentally accuses both Luo Binghe (main story, before finding out Binghe is into him) and Liu Qingge (Succubus Extra) of being asexual for showing no interest in women, only to fail to reflect on how he ALSO demonstrably has no lasting personal interest in the women around them, which doesn't read as very genuine to me.

(EDIT: Again, I am not against a bisexual Shen Yuan interpretation either! I am willing to be persuaded by any author who wishes to tell a particular story. But Shen Yuan's attraction towards women often reads personally to me as very shallow and possibly insincere.)

"I willingly read PIDW, that proves I'm straight!" he sincerely thinks to himself, even though his favorite wife is the one without explicit sex scenes and he also admits to skipping over a lot of them.

"I'm able to tell when women are beautiful, that makes me straight!" thinks the guy who mentally censors nudity whenever demon women lose their clothes, and keeps telling us how "the average reader" of PIDW would react to these beautiful women instead of conveying his own attracted reactions. His actual reactions are generally centered on a woman's narrative significance. The only people he personally seems to find attractive are Luo Binghe and maybe Liu Qingge.

Though my interpretation was that he does probably experience sexual arousal and have a sex drive (see his username), which probably helps with his conviction of straightness, I'm not sure that there's any mention of Shen Yuan even masturbating at all in the entire main story of SVSSS? He never tried to hook up with anyone. Sex is apparently not a priority for him.

(EDIT: He does seem to enjoy sex with Binghe in the "Bing-mei vs. Bing-ge" Extra. He loves Binghe and likes the closeness and the physical pleasure. I appreciate the indication that they're working on moving on from the AWFUL intercourse pushed by Xin Mo's possession and possibly also the System's Scenario Pusher.)

And Shen Yuan seems to view women as being and behaving Fundamentally Differently from men and gay men as behaving Fundamentally Differently from straight men (as soon as he learns Binghe is into him, he thinks about how Binghe isn't behaving like the characters in his sister's gay, non-con, BDSM erotica novels), seeing everything through the lens of novel tropes, such that he seems to view sex and sexuality and gender as being deeply mixed with a person's personality. So he can't be a gay man, because he's too "Normal", in his mind at first, because he doesn't behave like his own mental image of "How Gay Men Behave" (or "How Women Behave / A PIDW Wife Behaves"), while also demonstrably not being anything like "the average reader" of PIDW and also apparently not caring too much about his own masculinity? Like, I do think he likes being the gentleman scholar of Qing Jing Peak, he does like appearing dignified and strong and cool, he doesn't like losing, he doesn't really like playing "damsel in distress" roles, and I do think he likes being gallant towards women, but he's not too concerned about seriously competing with figures like Luo Binghe or Liu Qingge? He's happy enough to back down and let someone else take the lead if necessary. He puts up with being put into the roles of female leads even if it embarrasses him and he rolls with the punches to his pride easily enough. He seems to have decided his Sexuality By Default, so it does make me have a lot of thoughts about whether or not he's potentially going with Gender By Default / Convenience as well.

Someone get this man some amateur and academic literature on gender and sexuality (and a lot of other stuff), stat, so he can ignore it, probably.

#tossawary svsss #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #tossawary rereads svsss #shen yuan versus asexuality fic

[hyewka]

i seriously need some sub soob🫢

like imagine him squirming and whining because you ONLY kissed his red tip thats leaking precum ehishsisidjdd im going insaneeee

warnings; sub!soobin obvi, sort of pervy, best friends who fuck each other (fwb), puppy pet name, big dick soob, slapping ?? balls??, gets a boner from cleavage, soobin is extra sensitive down there and cums a lot

When Soobin invited you over to his dorm, you don’t exactly expect to have nothing but your phone to turn to as he simultaneously gets worked up over some video game he’s playing and ignores you all around. You should’ve guessed this was going to happen, but you’re bitter about it anyway.

Is it a crime to have thought that he was implying something else by inviting you over?

“I’m bored.” you whine for the umpteenth time, your thumb with no thought scrolling through your feed of posts you’ve already liked and reposted.

When he doesn’t even spare a glance, you scoff and resort to a kick at his back—which to your credit, gets him to adjust his headset and look back to you.

“Yeah?” he mouths, not having heard you before.

You can’t help but think he looked cute today, his pinkish lips and the hair over his eyes making him look even more of a puppy, but before you could even get a word out, his eyes suddenly widen at the faint yell you could hear from his headset, immedietley turning around has he aggresively spams buttons on his controller in panic.

“Holy shit dude, get off my ass I looked away for one—”

You groan into his pillow, making sure to make it as dramatic as possible, proceeding to sulk right after. This was not a productive use of your time. Fifty entire minutes of laying on his bed as he plays a video game. The switch out of your sport bra for a push up right before you came over really is doing nothing for you right now.

When you hear a string of curses spilling out of his mouth, you look over your shoulder curiously and see that his screen was in spectator mode. “You lost?”

He groans, taking off his headset completely, his mic muted. “Mhm, got killed. What’s up though?”

You take note of the screaming now louder from his headphones. Probably at him for getting eliminated. You don’t let him be though, exhaling dramatically looking back to your phone, “What’s up is your bestest, number one, most treasured, hottest friend is horny, sexually frustrated, and bored out of their mind.”

Soobin chokes on practically nothing at the casual mention of you being horny. It’s dumb, like he’s a middle school boy with no experience.

He really was not used to the ‘thing’ between you guys, like, at all. The stolen kisses (which is to be noted very quickly turn into full blown makeout sessions) when no one’s looking, the occasional need to send pics of his hard on to you, slight panic and regret settling in when he sees the ‘read’ receipt with no sign of a response for an entire five minutes (are you not in the mood? did you hate it? will you stop what you guys have going on?), or even the late night calls when you decide to facetime him instead of responding to his blurry nudes through text, and then…well, phone sex seemed to be a normal standard of your friendship. Weirdly enough.

Even if by now you’ve fucked him well over a few times that a mere mention of feeling horny shouldn’t have gotten him as flustered as it just did. But it’s so sudden, the shift from being friends who strongly, and vehemently denied of the secretly dating rumors to…secretly fucking.

“Oh yeah?” comes out a lot more in a loser way than he intended because he basically chokes it out. He’s never been nervous around you, save for the beginning of your friendship.

You’re very much aware of how unjusted Soobin is to the sudden change in your dynamic. Even you think it’s odd that the person you end up texting when you get…needy is Soobin.

Soobin was never the guy you’d think of starting anything even remotely sexual with.

You’ve known him since the years of being taller than him, and you’ve come to learn about his many deep faults along with gross habits you would never let fly under the radar if from someone else, so for him to be the exact type of man you’ve been seeking lately in bed is, well, surprising.

He seems to be the only person who can satisfy you nowadays. But you try not to show it too much, basking much more in how easily he gets flustered. It’s adorable.

“Yeah,” you sigh, shifting position from your stomach to your back and after much contemplation, deciding to take the chance of sitting up straight, “Did you really invite me over to watch you game? You know I don’t play video games.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes trail down, for sure because your chest was in full view now, his tongue prodding out just a tiny bit to wet his lips, almost like out of instinct. That dog. You show a bit of cleavage and he’s already drooling.

To be fair, it is the exact reaction you were fishing out of him. So you’re definitely not complaining.

You end up stifling a laugh, to which he immediately catches like he’s been trained to know your laughs on cue, breaking him out of his daze—an awkward coughing fit delayed a few seconds after to distract from the fact that he thinks he might’ve been caught, blush quickly warming his cheeks. “You think they’re silly, yeah, I know.

“But they’re—they’re not!” he splutters out, “I thought if you watched me play with Beo—”

“Were you just staring at my tits?” you cut him off with half the ability to not just start laughing. It’s worth seeing Soobin’s eyes widen like a cartoon character.

“No!” he says immediately— the crack of his voice doing nothing to help you keep a straight face. See? Adorable.

Then he huffs out a scoff like he’s surprised you’d ever accuse of him of such scandalous behavior. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean I want to do you every second of the day. I respect you.”

It’s like a game of your cocked brow calling bullshit (more on the fucking thing than respecting you) and him staring back just as intensely as if he truly was not just ogling at your chest. Okay then, fair enough. You’ll get him to break. And admit to it.

“So if I did this…” you unbutton one of the two buttons of your crop top, and your eyes intently watch the way he struggles to not watch your every movement, still keeping his eyes on your face.

Stubborn. You can work with that. He won’t last long.

You drag the unbuttoning of the second one, and when it finally pops out, it’s a full view of your cleavage, cool air of the A.C being the cause of the goosebumps appearing.

And you’re right. He doesn’t last long. Barely even five seconds.

“My eyes are up here idiot.”

He doesn’t even try to hide the blushing anymore, once again licking his lips. You can see the bob of his adam apple when he finally meets your eyes. “Can I see your tits?” he says—the shame of asking is something that overtime became a numbing feeling, because with each time you casually lift your shirt at his request, the easier it gets to push down the feeling of being a pervert.

You break into a wide grin at how easy and straightforward he was—a passing thought of hoping he’s not like, like this for every living thing with fatty tissue on their chest. It’s not jealousy, god no, but it’s better if this was only between you two… for safety reasons?

You pretend to ponder on it but he should know by now that the enjoyment you get out of teasing him is way greater than any feeling.

You decide on what you’ll say, an evil smirk making way. “Am I just a pair of breasts Soobin? Just for you to ogle at? I thought you respected me.”

He shuts his eyes, whining at seeing that his words were very quick to bite him in the ass. “Please. You know I’ll be good.” he whispers the last few words and that has an affect on you. Big one.

Because he isn’t lying. Soobin’s very obedient. And god, you love it. So much.

But you don’t show that, you never do—letting him chase after something for once. Maybe if he gets a little more desperate, you’d think about a quick flash. “You have plenty of my nudes saved, can’t you jerk off to those? Y’know, like you usually do.”

Is it fair to make a jab at the occasional, every so often muffled voice messages in response to even just a slightly revealing picture that you’re asking him the opinion of, where you could hear his unstable breathing and the wet sounds of his pre cum covered shaft? Probably not, especially when you also get off of pics he’d unknowingly send to be the most delicious, mouth watering photo you’ve seen yet.

Soobin, on the other hand, is like, sure he’d go insane. Ever since he was allowed to look at you in the not-only-friends way, he took up every chance you dangled in front of him like a dog with a bone. Showing a little bit of your cleavage? His mind’s running to images. Just thinking of kissing and sucking until your tits go sore makes him so shamelessly a pervert. Seeing the head of his cock disappear between your tits when you took it upon yourself that one day of giving him a taste of what a titty fuck was like—god, it’s forever embedded into his memory.

He still sulks over the fact that you didn’t let him take a video.

Suddenly his well fitted sweats have easily become the most suffocating piece of clothing, his bulge shy of peaking through the fabric and making an obvious imprint. He tries to not look like a sore desperate loser, to look just a tiny bit cooler, but you make it so hard that he’s willing to get on his knees. Like seriously.

You’re back on your phone, looking to be disinterested which makes him bite the insides of his cheeks—already overthinking. Were you mad that he asked to see?

He tentatively puts a hand on your ankle, gauging at least some sort of reaction. You give him that—a glance. “Sorry if like, um— I didn’t invite you just for games obviously— well, okay not ‘obviously’ but I, uh, also don’t think you’re like, a floating pair of…breasts or something.” You cock a brow, really curious of where this Soobin ramble of the day would go.

“You’re my bestest friend—is that corny to say? Shit, well, you are and I think you’re smart, and obviously really funny, and bright and so pretty, like, really pretty and I mean—”

“Soobin where the fuck are you?”

You both look at the headset next to him on the bed, the yelling loud enough to transcend the reason the product was made anyway. He looks back to you and you could tell he intends on finishing his monologue. “And I mean—” he starts again before cursing under his breath at the second time he gets cut off.

“Fucking cuck, are you ignoring us?”

He groans at the stupid item, as if it just ruined a critical moment. Then he looks back at you apologetically. God, he hopes you don’t leave. “Um, well I have to keep playing they’d kill me if—” he panics a little trying to explain but you’re on another train of thought entirely, thinking that this was perfect timing.

“It’s okay, keep playing!” You say, practically gleaming.

His facial expression is a mix of skeptical confusion and desperation. But instead of questioning your enthusiasm, he bites down on his lip for a second. “You—you won’t leave, right? Don’t leave. Please.”

You shake your head, mouthing an ‘I won’t’ and finally, he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding in.

He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for you to stay. It’s not like you don’t see each other, like every day of the week or even call each other when you somehow don’t. But regardless he wants you to stay, and he doesn’t mind coming off desperate for once.

The situation at hand is too obviously right in your face.

His ramble that was cut off short by who you made out to be none other than Beomgyu, and then Heeseung was…kind of sweet.

No, it was sweet. He thinks you’re really pretty? Not just pretty but really pretty. And smart? And funny? He’s so cute holy shit you could just reach out to pinch his rosy cheeks. But you didn’t and you probably won’t. Because something else caught your attention.

His bulge.

It was too…out there for you to not subtly look down every few filler word Soobin mumbled. You’re not sure what got him to pop a full blown boner. The teasing? You only said a few sentences and showed modest reveal of your boobs. But nevertheless, you try really hard to bite away a smile because holy shit, he really is easy.

And it fucking turns you on. More than it should. And more than it would if it was any other person.

If you felt horny before, you were basically drenched when getting a glimpse of his wide eyes at seeing you on the carpet, on your knees as you’re face to face with his crotch. He seems to freeze for a second before he quickly works to get his headset off, trying to abandon the game completely.

“No.” you say sternly, grabbing his dick through his sweats, “Keep playing.”

He mouths a big ‘what’, nearly whisper shouting, his eyes bulging out. You simply shrug, feeling all too smug, and start to palm him over the fabric. He lets out a sigh of pleasure, shutting his eyes.

“Dude, why the hell are you not moving? Fuck’s wrong with Soobin today?” You hear someone yell.

“If you stop, I stop.” You mouth slowly, and he seems to catch it, hands shaking as he reluctantly picks his controller up again.

“You’re evil.”

To that, you give him a smile, not really denying it. Because maybe you were, knowing how sensitive he is.

You hope Soobin’s mic is as shitty as you’ve heard Hueningkai complain a multitude of times, because if not, he’ll have a very hard time on call with his friends from now on. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a bragging point to have a girl suck you off while playing video games.

You imagine it’d still be a bit awkward anyway.

“How come you’re so big?” you whisper, more to yourself than him, but he catches it, and still reacts, bucking his hips to your touch, groaning. You click your tongue, pushing him down with one hand, as a warning.

“Don’t move. Don’t take your hands off the controller. And don’t make a sound.” It doesn’t take him long before he nods, obediently fixating his eyes on the tv screen.

You coo at how hard he narrows his eyes, thumbs working its action—but you want him to break. Maybe you really are evil.

And maybe he already was breaking.

He spreads his legs more and more, before lifting his ass off the mattress, already impatiently needy.

“Touch me.” he whispers, only for you to hear.

You raise a brow, huffing out a laugh as you decide that maybe you should stop playing around and pull his sweats down to his ankles. You don’t waste a second to.

When you take in the state of his cock, your mouth could water just at how pretty it looks. You’ve seen it well over a dozen times—over pics, over facetime, in real life, but you’re never not in awe each time. His slit was already bubbling precum, the thickness of his dick eye widening— It’s not like you have small hands either, and yet you still can’t fully wrap your hand around him. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size.

And god his tip was swollen red you’re sure if you just so briefly touched it he’d spasm and jizz all over your face. So you’re gentle. Or at least, you make an attempt.

Promptly grabbing his dick again, you could feel him grow heavier when you let it sit on your hand for a second. Soobin sighs into his mic, no doubt briefly catching the attention of his friends.

“Soobin, you’re dripping.” you comment, eyes following the trail of cum running down his length to your hand. It’s more in amusement, how he’s basically on the verge of an orgasm without much from you.

You could tell he’s using his last bits of patience to not just outright fuck into your fist, and it fascinates you. You start slowly dragging your hand on his shaft, made easier to navigate with his ridiculous amount of pre cum working as lube.

You watch as he adjusts his position subtly a few times, knowing that he’s trying to keep from slipping out any whines, pursing his lips. But his eyes betray him, they looked distant—not focused. “How many kills?” you ask.

“Zero.”

You furrow your brows, pouting as you still your hands. “I’ll speed up with each kill. You have to win for me puppy or I’ll get sad.”

Soobin doesn’t know exactly how he’d aim let alone manage a kill with the way you grip the base of his cock, but he knows that despite the sincerety of your words, he doesn’t like to think that you’d get sad. He so badly wants to make you proud in some way, happy with that glint in your eyes.

So, he gets a kill.

You hear the comments from his friends, passing compliments and you smile, slowly working your hand. “Got a kill.” he says under his breath, trying his hardest to not fall into the urge of shutting his eyes. Because god, you were good.

“Yeah? For me? Get another one puppy.”

A new fire ignites in his chest as he spams buttons, yearning to hear a praise slip from your lips. The way he knits his eyebrows in concentration and had his tongue peeking out was so adorable you almost lose control. Almost.

His breathing picks up as he says, “Another one.”

You get the confirmation he’s saying the truth by his friends again and you start moving your hand unfathomably fast as a reward, your hand getting sticky. “Gooood boy, getting all the kills.”

The sudden speed gets to Soobin, faltering his streak as he holds back choked up groans, head quickly becoming light. “Too much, too much.” he whispers, soft moans slipping through his breathing. You catch the way his hands loosen its grip on the controller and you smirk.

He’s way too easy to break.

“Too much? Should I stop?”

He shakes his head again, this time more frantic. You could make out the sparkly tears threatening to spill—you’re all too familiar with this. “Please don’t.”

“Then what? What do you want me to do?” you ask slowly, wet sounds of your hand working at his dick so dirty.

“Mouth,” he sighs, not controlling the way his hips buck into your hands despite your disapproval. “Want you to put it in your mouth.”

You almost laugh—your mouth? Last time, he barely lasted a second. You’re not doing that. But you’ll tease him about it regardless.

“Put what in my mouth?”

He doesn’t waste a breath. “Cock. My cock.”

You’re not even sure if he muted his mic by now, but the way he says it in that needy, desperate broken voice is so sinful you’re surprised you haven’t jumped his bones. Too bad you won’t give him what he wants—or at least not completely.

You rub your thumb over the head of his dick, dribbles of pre-cum still messily spurting from his slit. He’s not paying attention to the game—no, his eyes were focused entirely on you. You would scold him, but you’re entirely too aroused by the way his mouth basically waters in anticipation.

You maintain eye contact when you dip your head down slowly, an experimental kitten lick on his tip and he immediately thrusts his hip, dick slipping past your lips. You pull back, expecting that exact reaction—and he whimpers. Whimpers.

It’s not hard to pick up on the screaming from his headset, his friends clearly pissed off that hes been in the same spot for well over a minute now, becoming an easy kill to enemies on the other team. “Puppy, how come you’re losing? I thought you were doing well.”

Before he could respond, you tighten your grip on his shaft, and he groans, trying to bite down the noise—maybe he didn’t mute it after all. It’s almost animalistic how he chases your hand.

But you’re not as forgiving now—misbehaving boys get punished. You lick the underside of his dick, dragging the flatness of it up to his head, saltiness of his pre-cum overpowering your tastebuds before pulling back to see Soobin has basically abandoned the game, head thrown back as both his hands grip the sheets under him, letting out broken pitched moans.

You smile, knowing you gave him the impression that you’d put him in your mouth. No, you’re here to have your fun. He peeks through an eye at feeling you do nothing more, and the moment he does, you slap—hard. Maybe a tad bit harder than you intended.

Your aim was his nutsack, balls full of cum you could see he was holding from the week you’ve challenged him to not jerk off, and god—the way his eyes fly open, jaw slacking as his legs spasm, letting out a sound you’ve never heard a man make— you wonder why you haven’t done this sooner.

“You didn’t get off like I told you to right? Good puppy.” He nods frantically, his vision fogging.

He looks so broken, tears streaming down his cheeks faster than you could even take notice of. If his friends didn’t hear him before, they definitely heard him now. He’s a hiccuping mess, nose running when you decide to give him a little more, swirling your tongue around his tip, warm in your mouth— then you pull back before he loses control and starts fucking your mouth.

“Puppy can’t talk? Your friends know how much of a whore you are now…isn’t that embarrassing?” you coo, your hand still jerking him off. “What would they say knowing you’re my little mutt, obeying each and every word like a dog in heat?”

The words are getting to him. He tried to keep quiet for the sake of his pride— anyone knowing how desperate he gets for you is a hit to his ego, it’s embarrassing the amount of things he’d do just for a chance of eating you out, but this spurs him on— having you degrade him, telling him what exactly he is to you. Your obeying dog.

You could see his lips quivering, and notice the tensing of his body. Quickly, you part your hair to the side, take him in your mouth all the way, trying to relax your throat as to not gag when your nose finally presses against his abdomen—but of course you do, it’s hard not to with how thick he is. It doesn’t take a milisecond before you feel his load spilling down your throat, his big hands moving to hold the back of your head, orgasm crashing down like waves of the pacific came over him.

You stay there for a few more seconds, feeling yourself get lightheaded with how much he manages to cum, and even when you pull away with a need to take a deep breath, you see that his dick was still spurting little bits. “Holy shit.” you say under your breath, slightly coughing as you wipe away at the semen that managed to dribble down your chin.

Soobin had a lot stored.

Soobin falls backwards on the bed, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple. There’s a lot of thoughts spinning in his head. And he doesn’t exactly know how to label them. Lazily, he takes his headset off, throwing it to god knows where.

“Hey. Question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you fuck other people?”

You perk up at the question, the randomness making you stay silent for a bit until you shrug. “No, not really.”

Soobin sighs. He doesn’t know why. Was it relief? Maybe. Probably.

“Do you?” you ask it almost timidly, unknowingly playing with the threads of your ripped jeans. Thank god to Soobin because he answers quickly, not allowing for any space of anxiousness.

“No. Only you.”

You slowly nod, pursing your lips. “Cool.”

“Yeah, very cool,” then his brows furrow at a thought popping up in his head, “Wait, do you like,”

You raise your brows. “Do I what?”

“Like, you know, suck off other guys?”

You scoff, he’s so ridiculous. You don’t even get to see his reaction to your answers, as you’re sitting on the floor and his back is on the mattress. “No Soobin, I don’t suck off other guys. Well, not as of recently. You’re the only one I’ve been doing this with.”

“Oh, o-okay.” You snort at the cute stutter.

Too bad you don’t catch the small ‘good’ he says under his breath.

note: when i checked the word count I was so shocked we’re keeping that a secret 😭 appreciate any feedback!

#txt smut #soobin smut #sub!soobin #sub!idol #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours

[juniperskye]

What are the chances?

Sneak peek: Aaron and you match on Tinder and have been messaging back and forth over the summer…who’d have thought that meet the teacher night would bring him face to face with the woman he’s been sexting.

Aaron Hotchner x Teacher! Reader

Smut/Fluff

Word count: 5335

I have been writing this for weeks and I’m not sure about it – feedback is welcomed (as long as its constructive) Also I am using personal knowledge of teaching (as I work in a school) if it doesn't match your personal experiences I am sorry. Not edited - please be kind.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, language, sexting, tinder, online dating, explicit description of sexual activity, age gap (legal - Aaron is 45 Reader is 26), unsolicited sexual messages via dm, mentions of Jack, New Girl reference, mentions of school, teaching, insecurities, mentions of cheating, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Your phone buzzing pulled your attention away from the book you’d been reading. The notification illuminating your screen was one that filled you with dread.

You had joined Tinder at the suggestion of your colleague, she claimed that after your last relationship plus the significant amount of time you’ve been single equated to you needing to join the dating app.

This on its own wasn’t what was tying your stomach in knots, that was the fact that since you’d downloaded the god forsaken app you’d received a disturbing amount of unsolicited dick pics. Tonight, however, would bring a positive change. You had swiped right on a particularly handsome man a few days ago and had been silently hoping to match with him ever since. You had honestly given up hope until now.

Swiping over on the notification to launch the app would allow you to remind yourself of how handsome this guy actually was.

“Alright Aaron let’s take another look at this profile” you mumbled to yourself as you slid further down the couch.

Scrolling through his pictures you couldn’t help but smile. He only had three, but they were good. The first picture was a close up of him in a suit, he wore a subtle smile and his eyes looked so inviting. The second picture was him in a black T-shirt he looked as though he’d been laughing or maybe talking, a big grin on his face. The third photo…this one left your mouth dry. He’d clearly been on a golf course, the photo taken without his knowledge, but his arms…the way they were flexed and the veins that bulged in his forearms and hands. God the thoughts you had about what he could do with those hands.

You shook your head, trying to rid your mind of the vulgar thoughts you were having about this perfect stranger. He was hot, you couldn’t deny it, but his bio drew you in even further, it was to the point but definitely had you wanting to know more.

I’m a single dad and a workaholic. I love the Beatles. Looking for something real.

It felt like someone may have guided him through it, but you could tell the sentiment was genuine. He was a single dad and you loved that he wasn’t hiding that. It wasn’t something that would deter you from getting to know him either. You loved kids, that’s why you’d become a teacher.

You had mentioned that in your bio, it was short and sweet and exactly you.

I’m a 3rd grade teacher, I love music and reading, and yes, “I have touched glitter in the last 24 hours!”.

You’d thought about messaging him right away but ultimately decided against it. Not wanting to seem too eager, you’d give it some time and who knows, maybe he’d even message you first.

It had been an entire week since you’d swiped right and now he was finally messaging you. He’d kept it pretty simple, but it was late and given the previous messages you’d received at this hour, you were feeling pretty weary about opening his message.

A: Hello, I wanted to message you sooner, but I wasn’t sure how to start this conversation.

Y: Hi 😊 and no worries I get it. Online dating doesn’t exactly have the same effect as an in-person conversation.

A: Precisely. How are you?

Y: I’m doing good, tired. You?

A: I’m good, thank you.

A: I’m so sorry, I travel for work and am currently on the west coast, I didn’t even factor in the time difference.

Y: Don’t apologize! I’m the one who is awake at this ungodly hour. I should probably head to sleep though.

A: Yes, get some rest. Could I message you tomorrow and try this again?

Y: Absolutely, I’m looking forward to it! Goodnight Aaron!

A: Goodnight.

You woke up feeling pretty good, it was nice to not have to wake up at 6:00 am every morning. Once of the perks of being a teacher was the breaks. You were, however, thankful to be at a school that allowed a twelve-month contract which meant your paychecks continued through the summer. You had also made some extra cash by creating and selling assignments through teachers-pay-teachers (TPT) and by holding virtual tutoring sessions for students who were struggling.

Today you were just planning to create a few different anchor charts to upload for sale on your TPT account. You had just finished designing one for homophones vs. homographs and were ready to upload it when your phone buzzed. When you noticed the notification, you couldn’t help but smile.

A: Good morning

Y:  Good morning! How are you?

A: I’m well, glad to be going home. How are you?

Y: Right, you had said you were on the west coast, is that for work?

Y: And I am good, thank you.

A: Yes, I unfortunately have to travel a lot for work. Your bio says you’re a teacher, that’s really incredible, how long have you been teaching?

Y: Travelling for work must take the excitement out of the actual travel.

Y: And thank you! I have been teaching for 5 years now! I love it so much; the kids make all the paperwork and administrative stuff worth it!  

A: It is so great that you have that passion. It seems that it’s becoming increasingly rare.

Y: What about you? I see you’re a federal agent, is that right?

A: Yeah, I am. It’s not as glamorous as it may sound.

Y: I would think it’s busy, and hard work. Especially with you travelling while having kids at home.

A: It is, it’s nice to talk to someone who understands that. I just have one kid, a son, he’s almost 8.

Y: That is a good age!

A: It really is, he’s coming into his own.

A: I just saw the time; I have a plane to go catch. Can we talk again soon?

Y: I would really like that. Have a safe flight Aaron.

**One Month later**

The two of you had talked nearly every day for the past month. He was everything you could’ve hoped for; kind, funny, charming, he asked you about yourself and your job. You were really enjoying talking to him and he must’ve shared those feelings because he had recently asked you to switch over from Tinder to texting.

Aaron and you hadn’t had the chance to meet in person yet, but you texted frequently. In the time you’ve been talking, he’d been out of town a total of three times. The first was when you’d matched, he was somewhere on the west coast then. He was back for two days from that trip before he left again, that time was a short stint in the Midwest. And the most recent time, which he was just getting back from was a whole week, somewhere nearby, you knew based on the fact that you remained in the same time zone.

Getting to know each other had been going well, you two asked one another deep questions instead of surface level stuff. You’d talked about your dreams and how you hoped to continue teaching for a few more years before moving up into the administration side of things, and Aaron had shared that he used to be a prosecutor and while he couldn’t share much about his current job, he shared what he might do when he was done at the FBI. He informed you that you had inspired him and that he’d been considering teaching classes at the local university.

Connecting with him was easy, so easy in fact that you’d both admitted to having deleted your dating apps. You had told Aaron that you really wanted to meet him, and he had agreed with you, and so you had set up a tentative date for the following Friday, provided work doesn’t call him away.

Naturally, work did call him away. He’d texted you as soon as he found out. Short but sweet.

Aaron: Hey, I am so sorry, but we got a case. We’re headed to the tarmac now. Raincheck?

You: Oh, no worries! I understand, have a safe flight. Will you let me know when you land?

Aaron: Of course, I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.

You couldn’t help but blush at the name. Aaron and you hadn’t used pet names or even discussed it…hell, you hadn’t really discussed anything about what you were or where you were headed. You had figured that you would have that discussion over dinner, only now that wasn’t happening.

In all honesty you were starting to lose your resolve. Since you had started talking to Aaron, you hadn’t talked to any other men, which meant you hadn’t been intimate with any other men. You were starting to feel pretty restless. You’d thought about texting him, but again, you had no idea what this thing you were doing was. You had tried to push the feeling aside, keeping yourself busy by watching TV and cutting out materials for your classroom.

It was nearly 10 pm when your phone lit up. You looked down to see Aaron’s contact light up your screen, a smile taking form on your lips.

Aaron: Hey sweetheart, how was your day?

You: Hey! It was productive, I got a lot of prep work done for my class. How was your day?

Aaron: It was long, and brutal. I would much rather be there with you.

This was it; he was opening the door; you would just have to see how far he wanted this to go…would he invite you in given the chance?

You: I’d love it if you were here. I’m just lying in bed.

Aaron: You are?

You: Yeah, just here in bed. Thinking about you.

Aaron: I’ve been thinking about you too.

You: Yeah? How so?

Aaron: Sweetheart, I don’t want you to think that this is just some ploy. I like you; I really do, and I want to meet you in person.

You: I like you too Aaron and I know you wouldn’t do that. I’d also really love for you to continue…I really need to know what you’ve been thinking about.

Aaron: God sweetheart. I’ve been thinking about all the things I’d like to do with you.

Aaron: I’d love to start by grabbing your face and kissing those beautiful lips.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as you read Aaron's text. Your heart begins to race, anticipation bubbling up inside you. The words on the screen ignite a flame of desire deep within your core, making it impossible to resist the growing heat between your legs.

You: Mmm, that sounds amazing. I can almost feel your lips on mine already.

Aaron: I want to taste every inch of you. Starting with your mouth, then trailing my kisses down your neck.

The mere thought of Aaron's lips exploring your body sends a surge of wetness between your thighs. You imagine him leaving gentle, lingering kisses along the curve of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below your earlobe.

You: Yes, please. I want to feel your lips everywhere.

Aaron: I'd slowly remove your shirt, teasingly revealing the soft skin underneath until it’s off completely, exposing your beautiful breasts.

You can't help but squirm in bed, the tingling warmth between your legs intensifying with every word. The anticipation builds as you imagine Aaron's hands brushing against your skin, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along the curve of your breasts.

You: Oh God, that sounds incredible. I can’t wait to feel your touch, Aaron.

Aaron: And I can’t wait to give it to you, my sweet girl. I'd worship every inch of your body, my hands guiding my lips and tongue to explore you.

Your breath catches in your throat as the images flood your mind, each one more tantalizing than the last. You can almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your collarbone, the way his tongue would flick against your sensitive flesh.

You: Please, Aaron. I need you now. I can't wait any longer.

Aaron: Patience, sweetheart. We'll meet soon, and when we do, I promise to fulfill your every desire.

As you read Aaron's response, a mix of relief and disappointment washes over you. You understand the need for caution, but the ache within you grows stronger with each passing minute. The desire to feel Aaron's touch, to have him consume you completely, becomes almost unbearable.

You: Okay, Aaron. I trust you.

Aaron: Good girl. Now, close your eyes and imagine my hands tracing circles on your thighs. Slowly inching higher, closer to where you crave me the most.

You follow his command, closing your eyes and allowing your mind to paint vivid images of his touch. The sensation of his warm hands on your thighs sends shivers down your spine as you imagine his fingers inching closer to your pulsating core.

You: Oh yes, Aaron. I can nearly feel your hands on me, the anticipation is almost unbearable. Every nerve ending in my body burns for your touch.

Aaron: That's it, my sweet girl. Imagine my fingers brushing against your wetness, teasingly circling your throbbing clit, driving you to the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat. The images in your mind become more vivid, your body responding to the phantom touch that you crave with every fiber of your being.

You: Yes, Aaron. I can feel it. My body is on fire for you.

Aaron: I can practically see the uncontrollable desire in your eyes, sweet girl. I bet you look so pretty when you cum.

Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and frustration. The words exchanged between you and Aaron ignite a passionate flame within you, but the distance between you only fuels the longing for his touch. For now, you must find solace in the words that pass between you, allowing your imaginations to create a world where your desires can run wild.

You: I can't wait for the moment when this all becomes reality.

Aaron: It will be worth the wait, my sweet girl. Until then, tell me what you’ve been thinking about. Tell me what you want me to do to you.

You close your eyes, mind racing with a whirlwind of untamed thoughts and secret desires. With each passing moment, the explicit nature of your conversation with Aaron intensifies, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. The electrifying tension between you grows with every tantalizing word exchanged, pushing the boundaries of your imagination further than ever before. You find yourself under Aaron's spell, eager to confess the deepest, darkest corners of your desires.

You: Aaron, I want you to take control. I want to be at your mercy, to feel the weight of your dominance. Do with me as you please.

Aaron: My sweet girl, I will claim you as mine, marking every inch of your body with my touch.

Your body trembles in anticipation of your approaching orgasm. Every nerve ending tingles and pulses, craving the touch of Aaron's hands, his lips, his body against yours. The air is thick with desire as you imagine surrendering yourself to him completely. You slide two fingers into your pulsing heat, slowly thrusting them in and out, imagining Aaron was the one providing you such pleasure.

Aaron: Give yourself over to me. Let go sweetheart. I want to push you to your limits and then pull you back.

Your fingers move faster, matching the rhythm of your racing heart. The room seems to spin as you find yourself on the precipice of ecstasy. One final thrust of your fingers and you are sent hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure that crash over you like a tsunami.

As you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm, your breathing begins to steady, and the reality of the moment settles in.

You: Aaron...that was...beyond anything I could have imagined.

Aaron: This is only the beginning. There is so much more for us to explore when we are finally together.

You were growing more confident in whatever this was with him, but you were also becoming more and more frustrated at the fact that you had still yet to meet up with him. You had facetimed many times at this point. Calling one another regularly, to say good morning, to let you know he had landed safely, to tell him all about your day, and even to get one another off at the end of a long hard week.

He was extremely apologetic, given that his chaotic schedule was to blame for you having yet to meet in person. He had even gone as far as to let you know each day they didn’t have a case to see if you were free, but unfortunately as the new school year was approaching, you had become increasingly busier. You had been attending trainings for curriculum as well as the new program the school would be using to take attendance. You had also been going in to start setting up your classroom for a few hours each day.

When you weren’t at the school working on those things, you were at home writing lesson plans, making assignments, and getting your google classroom setup online. You had felt horrible that you had to decline dates, especially given that he finally had time for them, but Aaron was so sweet, assuring you that it was okay. You told him that once the school year started things would be easier since there wouldn’t be so much to prep anymore and once again Aaron let you know that he understood.  

Time had flown by; Aaron and you had been talking and doing whatever this was for nearly two months. Many things had been exchanged between the two of you, promises of exclusivity (without labels for now), explicit messages, talks of the future, nude photos, hopes and dreams, amongst many other things. Since that night, you and Aaron had shared many explicit conversations that had ultimately led to some of the best orgasms you’d ever given yourself. You we genuinely surprised at how quickly you had felt comfortable with a man you’ve never actually met, but him facetiming you regularly helped, you supposed. It was scary to think you could be falling for this man so early on.

Shaking the thought out of your mind you checked your phone, only to see a missed call from Aaron, as well as a voicemail. It made you smile to yourself, nobody you knew left voicemails anymore, they always followed a missed call with a text.

VM <Aaron>: Hey sweetheart, you must be busy, but I wanted to see if you were free this Saturday. I know you have some stuff going on at the school this week, but I thought since you are off, and I just found out it is a mandatory off day for the team, it might be a good time for us to finally go out.

Aaron’s voicemail made you giddy, because him having a mandatory day off on the weekend was rare (as he previously informed you). They tend to fall in the middle of the week between cases to allow the agents a break. But a Saturday! One of your days off – this meant you could finally go on your date! You quickly clicked your phone app, scrolled to his contact, and hit the call button.

“Hotchner.” Aaron said.

“Hey baby!” You greeted.

“Oh, hi sweetheart! I take it you got my voicemail?”

“I did, and I am totally free on Saturday! Were you thinking dinner?”

“Well Jack is with his grandpa on Saturday, so I thought maybe we could spend the whole day together? I have a feeling once I see you, I’m not going to want to let you out of my sight for a bit.” Aaron explained.

“First of all, same! Second of all, I would love to spend the day with you, maybe we could go to the farmer’s market in the morning? I could get some stuff to make us dinner. What do you think?” You questioned.

“Perfect! Alright, well it is getting late, and I know you have a busy day at the school tomorrow, so I am going to let you go. Have a good night sweet girl.”

“Tomorrow won’t be as bad as Thursday, but you are right it is getting late. Goodnight handsome! Text me when you get up?” You asked, hopeful.

“You are going to do great on Thursday, the parents are going to love you. And I will text you first thing!”

With that, you hung up. Aaron was sweet trying to ease your mind of your anxieties. You knew realistically that your meet the teacher night on Thursday would be fine and that there really was no reason to fret, but alas, here you are letting it eat you up.

The next three days passed in a blur, Aaron had been consulting on a case from the Quantico office, something about it not being enough information to warrant travel. You had been finishing up all your last-minute decorations and lesson prep. You also needed to make your slideshow that you would review during meet the teacher.

It had been chaotic, but you managed to get everything completed on time and Aaron had actually helped that precinct close their case. It had been a successful week, and now you on top of your back-to-school jitters, you also had nerves from your pending date. You told yourself to focus on one thing at a time, it would be easier that way.

Which leads you to right now…

Meet the teacher night was the most nerve-wracking and exciting night of the year, you wanted to make a good impression for all the parents, but you also needed to show the kids that you were a safe adult that they could trust who has curated an inviting and cozy space for them to express themselves and engage in learning. 

You had spent the last week getting your classroom perfectly decorated and organized for this moment, and here it was finally happening. You waited, anxiously fidgeting with your sleeves as families made their way into your classroom, greeting them all as they entered. A parent had pulled you aside to talk about their child’s multitude of allergies when another family had walked in, presumably the last one if you had your count right. You excused yourself and made your way over to the father of this student and stopped dead in your tracks. You’d recognize him anywhere, you had memorized his face, arms, hands, broad shoulders and here he was in front of you now.

“Hi” it came out as a breath; you were stunned that he was here now.

“Hi, I had no idea you were Jack’s teacher. The email I got must’ve been your last name…” Aaron tried to explain.

“No, don’t worry about it, we hadn’t exchanged full names. I um maybe we should talk about this after.” You’d just remembered that you were in a room full of parents and your soon-to-be students.

“Right, that’s a good idea.” Aaron said as he made his way over to Jack and some woman.

Your stomach dropped as Aaron greeted the woman, clearly someone he was very familiar with. Had this all been a lie, the last two months. You zoned out, completely disassociated as you gave your presentation, welcoming the families, going over pickup/drop-off procedures, discussing how you would communicate with parents and going over the scope and sequence of the curriculum for this year.

As you spoke, you found your eyes drifting back to him. Your stomach dropping every time he meets your gaze. How dare he. How dare he smile at you like nothing is wrong, like he isn’t here with some other woman.

You made it halfway through the powerpoint which was a chance for parents to ask any questions that they had thus far. A few parents had asked about the school lunch program and what after-school activities they could anticipate throughout the year. Another parent asked about one of the board adopted reading curriculums and how it would be implemented – all tame so far. Then his hand went up. You steeled yourself before gesturing to him.

“Mr. Hotchner” You signaled him to ask his question.

“Yes, I wanted to know more about the art program here. Which classes are provided as the kids’ specials?”

“That’s a great question, our school has received a grant from the state for our arts program, it is one of the best in the U.S.. The students will participate in multiple specials throughout the week such as Art, Physical Education, Chorus, Computers, Robotics, Gardening, Band, and Dance. They will have two specials classes on every day of the week, save for Wednesdays, since those are half days.” You explained.

“Wow, that’s amazing, thank you!” Aaron smiled at you again.

You were proud of the fact that your school had the ability to have such a wide variety of electives to offer your students. Your heart swells when talking about it, knowing that you worked tirelessly to help lock in that grant for your school. Aaron’s smiley response, however, makes your stomach churn.  

You continued throughout the last few slides, closed out your presentation and said your goodbyes, answering the few remaining questions while picking up stray crayons and cups scattered around the room. As you threw the last few cups in the trash you turned to see Aaron lingering in the back of the room alone.

There was a nagging feeling eating away at you. He surely didn’t have the audacity to come here with another woman. Not when you had spent the last two months sharing the most intimate parts of yourselves with one another. Granted he didn’t know it would be you, so maybe that was why he was here with her. All you wanted to do was grab your bag and get the hell out of here.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He started.

“Sooo, should we just ignore the fact that I’ve seen you naked? Just pretend like the last two months never happened. I don’t want to put Jack in an awkward position. And I certainly don’t want to come between you and your girlfriend.” You huffed.

“Woah, sweetheart, hold on. What are you talking about? As far as I am concerned the only person who I would call my girlfriend here is you, but obviously we haven’t discussed that and seeing as we are only just meeting now, I figured we’d go on our date before labeling anything. I don’t want to forget about any of this, I want to keep this going, see where it leads.” Aaron reached for your hand gently.

“Aaron, if you are seeing that woman you came here with then this has to end. I’m not looking to be a third, or to be your mistress. You can’t do that to her. You can’t do that to Jack!” You shook your head and pulled your hand away from his.

“Oh my god. No, that’s Jess, Jack’s aunt. I thought I told you about her. It’s Jack’s mom’s sister. The only person I want to see is you baby.” He reaches for you again.

This time you let him pull you into his embrace. You shake your head, feeling like an idiot for even thinking Aaron was capable of something so awful.

“I’m so stupid. Aaron I am so sorry!”

“Sweetheart it is okay! I can’t even imagine how it must’ve looked.” He pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“I can’t believe you are actually here right now.” You whispered, pressing your face further into his chest.

Aaron squeezed you tighter, rubbing his hands up and down the expanse of your back. You took a deep breath in, savoring the smell of his cologne.

“You know, I could have Jess take Jack home, and maybe we could go grab a bite to eat?” Aaron suggested.

“Really?” You looked to him for confirmation.

Aaron replied with a subtle “mhmm” to which you nodded. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and shot a quick text to Jess. He was sure to give her a brief explanation of the situation, this of course caused her to agree to take Jack for the night.

You should have known you wouldn’t even make it to dinner. Aaron had suggested going back to his place since it would be empty and ordering in. How could you say no, it was a brilliant idea.

The two of you barely made it through the door before your lips met in a fiery kiss, tugging at one another’s clothes. Aaron had picked you up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he carried you the rest of the way to the bedroom.

He gently laid you on the bed, holding his weight up by his elbows on either side of your head. He leans in to kiss you once more before pulling away entirely.

“Sweetheart, I want to make sure you really want this. I can wait and I don’t want you to think this is all I want because trust me I want you. All of you.” Aaron expressed.

“Aaron I want this, all of this with you.” You gently brushed your finger against his jaw.

With that, Aaron dove back in and kissed you with fervor. His hands gripping your plush thighs sliding up to your hips. Your hands reaching to unbutton his dress shirt, unsuccessfully so. Aaron’s hands come up to meet your own, he moves to remove his own shirt which allows you just enough space to remove your own. Garments are strewn about the room as Aaron leans down attaching his lips to the top of your breasts. His hands come up to grope them, your body arching into his touch. He tugs the lace down, exposing your nipple, it immediately perks to the cold air, and he attaches his mouth to it. You can’t help the gasp that releases from your throat. You card your fingers through his hair raking your nails against his scalp.

Aaron presses his hips to yours, allowing you to feel his growing length against your inner thigh. Heat courses through your body as your heart races. He undresses you with a slow, deliberate intent, unhooking your bra and allowing your breasts to bounce free. The vulnerability of it all makes you feel alive, desired, cherished.

Your hands explore his body, his muscles hard and defined under your touch. You run your fingers across the faint lines of scars, evidence of his journey, the stories he's lived. You gently trace them, feeling his rough skin, the warmth emanating from him. You feel like you know him, like you've been waiting for this moment your entire life.

He stands, his eyes locked with yours. He reaches down, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down his legs. Your eyes follow the movement, taking in every inch of his body, he is standing before you, naked and exposed. You feel a wave of desire wash over you, a fiery need to be closer to him. Your hands reach for him, your fingers brushing against the curve of his hips, the muscles in his thighs, the hard line of his abdomen. You run your fingertips along the slight indent of his navel, and he lets out a low groan.

Your body is alive with desire, every breath you take sharper, every touch more electric. You know this moment will be etched in your memory forever, the beginning of something beautiful. And as you take his hand, pulling him back to the bed, you know that this is where your story will unfold, a story of passion, love, and a bond that will last a lifetime.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #spencer reid #david rossi #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fandom #thomas gibson #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #haley brooks #haley hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist. 

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling.  “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?” 

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell. 

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these. 

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn��t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’? 

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing. 

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now. 

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

#jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #kento nanami #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x me #nanami kento x you #nanami kento angst #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento smut #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x you #kento x reader #kento x you #kento x y/n #anime x reader #anime smut #anime angst #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #nanami baker au #baker nanami

[navybrat817]

Did you see the Sebastian photo with him in the leather jacket and Bucky hair? The black and white one? He looks so good!!!!!!!!

Is it the image below, nonnie? If so, yes! He looks amazing. So much that I had to share more rocker!Bucky. If not, I'm happy to receive the pic.

Everybody Wants a Taste

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Are you really Bucky's girl? He thinks so. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, oral implied (m. and f. receiving), possessive behavior, slight jealousy and insecurity, swearing, slight feels (it's me), sort of getting together, communication is key, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Some White Wolf and Luna that no one asked for! This can also count for Week 4 of the @the-slumberparty for Across the Universe!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and banner by the lovely @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When word got around that you were seeing Bucky Barnes, some of your friends back home told you to be careful. Not because you couldn't keep up with the rockstar, but because they didn't want him to throw you out when he eventually grew bored of you. Touching as it was, it was also insulting.

"We're having fun." you said in the group chat. "Nothing wrong with that."

"But everyone wants him!" one of them replied. "What makes you different from the rest?"

What makes you special?

"Nice fucking pep talk. Really. Appreciate the vote of confidence!" you sent.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

That was the last thing you sent in the chat.

You may have given your phone the finger, too.

As if you needed another reminder that girls, and guys, lined up to get just a glimpse of the man you somehow got to call yours. Some were better looking than you and others were nicer, but you refused to let it shatter your confidence. They didn't click with Bucky the way you did. If he woke up one day and decided he didn't want you, it wouldn't be the end of your world.

You took care of yourself long before you left home and wouldn't depend on a guy for anything. That was something you made clear when you started spending more time with Bucky. At least, you told him once you could form a coherent sentence since he fucked every sane thought out of you.

"It's okay to keep wanting me, Luna."

Being addicted to him wasn't something you anticipated nor did you want to admit that he had a hold on you. If you did, he'd have the entire deck stacked in his favor. But the cocky fucker knew he had you in the palm of his hand and you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Not when you were on your knees worshipping him like the god everyone made him out to be.

You waited for Bucky after rehearsal, knowing he could do with a bit of stress relief. Steve gave you a knowing smirk as he walked by. "Hey, baby," he teased.

“Hey, blondie,” you winked back.

"Don't call my girl 'baby', punk," Bucky said as his friend laughed.

Am I your girl?

Shamelessly allowing your eyes to roam his body as he walked closer, you wondered how he even got his jeans on some days with the heat he was packing. The rest of the band nodded to you as they passed by, knowing exactly what they'd witness if they stuck around.

"I don't remember texting you," Bucky said when he stopped, running his ringed fingers through his hair. "You don't have anything better to do than wait for me?"

Asshole. You're lucky I adore you.

Your eyes narrowed as you pushed yourself off the wall. "Plenty of other things I can be doing that don't involve you."

"C'mon, baby. I'm fucking with you," he smiled as he moved to stand in front of you. "I just figured you might be hanging out with Alice and Sunshine."

"Oh, we did each other's nails and had a pillow fight. Almost fell out of my top as I jumped around," you smiled, leaning against the wall once again.

You liked Alice and Sunshine. You'd be a bitch not to and they understood things that people back home wouldn't get. Jefferson was certainly more cheerful now that he had his girl back in his life. And Hal still adored his high school sweetheart just as much as he had the day before.

What's it like for someone to be loved the way they are?

"And I missed it? That's too bad. Didn't get a facial?"

You arched an eyebrow as he moved a finger along the swell of your breast. "How could I when you weren't there to give me one?"

"I can give you one now," he smirked.

You laughed and shook your head as you tugged him closer by his t-shirt. "I don't know if I want one anymore. I could find something else to quench my thirst."

"We both know you love the taste of my cock."

"Almost as much as you love the taste of my pussy."

He placed both hands on the wall and looked into your eyes as you bit your lip. "My favorite treat. You gonna let me get my mouth on you so I can have my fill?"

"Maybe after you fuck my throat. Maybe," you said before he brought a hand to your throat. He held it there, but didn't squeeze. "So you'd rather choke me with your hand instead of your cock?"

"Luna, baby, don't tease me."

"Isn't teasing just another form of foreplay?" you asked.

The flirty, fun banter never got old with him. Even on the days you didn't have sex, you found yourself smiling at his words and antics. It made it difficult to protect your heart. But like your body, it was yours to give the person you wanted and he had the key to the lock before you knew it.

"I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock," he stated, tightening his grip when you moaned. "Want you to choke on me before I make a mess of you."

The mere suggestion was enough for your thighs to rub together, tour panties dampening more at the thought of him using your throat to get himself off and paint your face. His thick cock filled every hole of yours to the brim time and time again, reminding you that you belonged to him. But you couldn't always give in so easily. Call it pride or a power move.

You'd both get off in the end.

"Sure you don't want one of your other groupies to suck your cock?"

Everybody wants a taste.

His smirk vanished instantly as he leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. You didn't shy away from his gaze, captivated by the blue of his eyes. He liked that you didn't try to hide.

Caught in his trap, you couldn't duck and run if you wanted to.

"I haven't fucked anyone else in weeks," his voice dropped as he shoved his knee between your thighs without warning, your core pulsing as he brushed his lips against yours. "Thought I made it clear that you're my girl."

You swallowed hard enough for Bucky to loosen his grip. If Bucky let you in, that meant something because he didn't give himself away lightly. Sex, he could find that anywhere. Someone to stick around through the highs and lows after was another story.

One you wanted to write with him.

"You never actually asked," you said above a whisper.

It was weak to say it out loud and make him put a label on it, but you wanted to hear it.

"I didn't think I had to ask," he said, kissing the spot between your eyes with a small huff. "I thought you were already mine.”

Your stomach swirled with butterflies. "I thought you were mine, too."

"Because I am. I’m all yours," he whispered, playing dirty by rocking his knee a bit more. You were tempted to slide up a bit more and ride his thigh and weep from knowing he was really yours. "C'mon. Be mine. Be my fucking girl, Luna."

You whined when he brought his lips to yours again. You would have said "yes" regardless. "I'm your girl, but don't you dare break my heart. 'Cause I'll hunt you down and make you sorry if you do. I'll curse that glorious dick of yours, too."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. The sound brought a smile to your face. "I'd expect nothing less. You better not curse my dick or break my heart either."

His casual tone had an underlying vulnerability that you wouldn't dare joke about.

"You're my guy, Wolfy. I won't hurt you."

And I'll be your Luna no matter what.

"Don't let anyone hear you call me that," he grinned, pulling his knee away to leave you wanting more. Tease. "I have a reputation to uphold."

You smiled as the atmosphere shifted back to the sexual charge. He didn't need to dwell on the emotions for the moment and neither did you. Your heart was full and that was more than enough for today.

"Guess you better shut me up then," you suggested as you reached for his belt.

"Oh, no. Still wanna hear you moan and whine when you take me in your mouth," he stated, stepping back so you could unzip his pants and sink to your knees. "When I'm done, you're gonna sit on my face and sing for me. Those pretty sounds of yours might inspire our next song."

"Call it 'Howl at the Moon'," you smiled up at him. "Dedicate it to me," you added with a wink.

You'd find out later that Bucky already had.

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #rocker!bucky barnes x reader #white wolf and luna #the vip experience #bucky barnes #rocker!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #navy and roo's sleepover #rocker au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

[aloesarchives]

(18+)Brain Rot Dump: Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji x Fem AFAB! Reader

Okay okay okay So this idea has been plaguing my mind for the past mf 3 days. I don't want to write a whole fic/piece for it but at the same time I needed to get this out of my brain. I need this brain rot out of my system.

Based on these pics: 1 2

Warnings: 18+, Sexual Explicit Content, mentions of choking, unprotected sex, creampies, Hand/Muscle kink and Fetish, Toji teasing Reader, the Inner Horny Demon took over, Megumi cockblocks Toji only once

[18+ Sexual Content!! Below the cutoff. Read at Your own Discretion]

On hot summer days, you would bring some watermelons from a local vendor to you home so you and your family would enjoy it together.

As you and your children sit on the porch, Toji brings the watermelon outside and gently places it in the kiddy pool. As Toji rolls up his sleeves on his already short-sleeve shirt, you can't help but admit how good he fucking looks. It just a fucking t-shirt but the way it hugs his torso and shoulders in all the right way. Him rolling them up doesn't help your case because it reveals his whole arms.

You blanked for a bit because you can't help but fawn over the way they looked bare. How his muscles flexed, the slight protruding veins on his forearms, prominent knuckles, HIS NICE BIG GENTLE HANDS. If you didn't catch yourself at that moment, you would have actually drooled.

Megumi and Tsumiki were trying to get your attention for the past minute during your little day dreaming. When you snapped out of it, they were telling you that Toji was going to cut the watermelon. You glanced at your husband, who grins at you, before looking back at the ground. There was no knife to cut the fruit.

"Toji, aren't you going to get a knife? How are you going to cut the watermelon without it?"

"Don't worry, Honey. I don't need a knife for this."

Your brows furrowed together as you shot your husband a confused look. Toji picks up the watermelon with both of his STRONG and POWERFUL HANDS, spins it to dry it off, and places it on the cutting board. He straighten his hand out and swiftly brings it down on the thick fruit. And just like that, the watermelon was split into two halves. Megumi and Tsumiki were in awe, sparkles in their eyes at Toji's ability to cut the watermelon with ease.

You, on the other hand, felt your pussy throbbing. You couldn't explain why though. Are you now discovering you have a muscle fetish? Possible hand kink? Toji being a whole DILF? Or was your husband so hot and good-looking that anything and everything he does made your hormones act up?

The answer is all the above as you see Toji break the watermelon halves into smaller wedges with his BARE HANDS. He made 8 pieces so everyone had two pieces. You were too distracted by your own hormones and husband's hotness to notice that your children were bringing a plate each of the watermelon slices. Your face and entire body felt hot all other, and it wasn't just the hot to blame for it. Your kids were calling out to you but you didn't respond. Worried, Tsumiki and Megumi ran to the fridge to get the Brita pitcher you always used. Tsumiki grabbed the pitcher while Megumi grabbed a red plastic drinking cup with ice. The kids came back to the porch and Tsumiki poured water into Megumi's cup that was for you.

You snapped out of it when the red cup appeared right in front of your face. You blinked for a bit before you see the faces of your concerned children. You smiled and thanked them for getting you water. Your kids were concerned because they thought you were over-heating, which was luckily not the case. You comforted your children, saying you were alright.

Megumi and Tsumiki smiled happily, sitting down next to you to enjoy their watermelons. You, however, have lost track of Toji as he appears besides you. Face close behind your ear as he blows on it gently. You gasp, flinching at the action, prompting you to cover your ear and spun your body around to face him. You would have reprimanded him for what he did if he still had his shirt on.

Which he doesn't have on. He took it off while the kids went to get you water. You were just staring off into space, nothing in that little head of your's but Toji's nice torso, arms, and hands. The sun's rays was beating down on him, meaning as the day goes on the hotter it would get. It didn't help him that his shirt was black too. So he takes it off, only clad in his black loose cotton shorts you bought for him.

Anyhow, Toji pulls you in by your waist and gets up close to your face. He eyes you up and notices your flustered expression. Your chest slowly going up and down, breathing becoming a little labored, and the look you gave Toji through your heavy eyelids tells him everything. He wanted to kiss you but Megumi interrupted and asked if you two were going to eat your watermelons. So Toji decides to pull you into his lap as he grabs one of the plates. You and him grab a piece and eat it along with your children, who already have made a dent in theirs. As the day passed, Toji was eating his watermelon slice with one hand while slowly caressing your waist up and down with the other.

At some point, he would squeezed your waist when he would reach for another slice. He would say, "Excuse me, I'm just trying to get another slice."

You were so hot and bothered by your husband that you decided to give your other slice to him. As you slowly eat your watermelon, you can't help but get distracted by the way his hand looked. The juice from the fruit slice trickled down his hand to his forearm, highlighting how toned it was with the added sunlight. He then would lick the juice from his forearm before it would drip down to his shorts. He knows you're watch him, eyeing him like he's a piece of meat. Which he doesn't mind.

You genuinely believed that your vagina was your second heart because its beating and throbing that you can feel it in your ears.

As you clean up, Toji gets Megumi and Tsumiki for bed. Once done with the dishes, you braced yourself on the sink to try to calm yourself down before your brain is fried from simping over your husband. Then a low whistle comes from behind and it's none other then your husband, shirtless and in his grey sweatpants. The man stalks over to you, and you have never felt so small in his presences. He looks down at you before caging you in between his nice arms. You weren't saying anything, too entranced with his physique. He always muscular with a heavy build. You thought he would lose it once he had a family, to which you never concerned over it. But you guess that he maintained his physique after becoming a father to two kids.

So with a strong build and the added Dad strength, it made your husband more desirable in your eyes.

No peep came out of you and Toji got a bit concerned when you were not saying anything. But when you gripped both of his biceps and your eyes glistened at him with "the look", Toji got the signal. He picks you up and taking you to your shared bedroom to satiate both your needs.

Toji just straights up manhandles you. As he thrusts into you, he will place his hand on your neck to make sure you can feel his cock straight up sliding in and out of your gummy walls. If you ask him to choke you, oh he'll do what his pretty wife asks of him.

Toji then proceeds to break your back by slamming himself hard that the slickness you two made and the contact of your skins echoed throughout the bedroom. While he's rawdogging you from behind, he presses his chest to you back. He shifts his weight so he's pressing down on you, wrapping an arm around the front of your shoulder and collarbone so that your neck would snuggly be between his forearm and bicep. He just loses and surrenders himself to you and your womanhood. Knowing that he'll never get the same feeling out of anyone else.

You, on the other hand, were cock-drunk for Toji. The only thing you were thinking about was Toji fucking you hard and good. You were moaning and panting, gripping at the bedsheets or Toji for some sort of support in bracing his brutal thrusts. He felt so good, the only words that kept falling from your lovely lips was "Toji! Toji! TOJI!". God, he loved the way you were thinking about him and only him. He would've teased you about your gawking at his body. But he was too into fucking you raw that he forgot to do that to you.

He changed position again to where you back was on the bed and Toji was right on top of you. He was going to town on you, never stopping to take a break. But you didn't mind as you gripped and clutched at Toji's bicep and back to combat your overriding pleasure.

His thrusts became more brutal as the feeling of cumming was building up. You were feeling his muscular body, memorizing and tracing over the hard muscles and veins that rippled throughout his skin. It made you even more turned on them before, causing you to clenched down on him like a vice grip. He sped up with his thrusts and both of you cummed at the same time.

After coming down from his post-nut clarity glow, he cleaned you up and put you in one of his shirts. You were too fucked out to realized he was already in bed with you with his boxers on.

"What's got you all horny for me, Doll? You're usually never get that flustered or shy around me before?"

"It's. . .your. . . your arms. . . They're. . . hot. . . Toji. . ." mumbling into his chest as you hid your embarrassed face.

At first, he didn't know what you were talking about. But then he remembers when he split the watermelon earlier with his bare hands and rolled up his sleeves, putting his arms on full display. He starts laughing and teasing you about it. Saying that he should be shirtless and do it more often. You slapped his chest, feeling your body aflame. He catches your hand and kisses your knuckles before you can retracted it back. He pulls you close to his chest as he places his head on top of your.

"I'm willing to put a show for you if it always gets you to be like this, Beautiful~~." He says with a deep chuckle that you can feel rumbles through his nice strong chest.

Needless to say, this wouldn't be the last time he would do this now finding out you have a thing for his muscles and muscular body.

This is my first time writing 18+, this was hella rushed because I was just typing this out without stopping. This was meant to be a brain rot dumping of Toji because this man has plagued my mind for the past week and it's not stopping. Thanks for reading this brain rot dump for Toji!💙❤️

#x reader #dad!toji #fem reader #reader insert #jjk megumi #jjk toji #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #megumi fushiguro #x female reader #jjk smut #smut #female reader #dad!toji x reader #fushiguro tsumiki #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #brainrot dump #writing dump #18+ content #18+ only

[airbendertendou]

bonten men seeing you with contacts for the first time.

[ glasses version ] no pronouns used / gender neutral. lowercase intended. cw : sanzu touches your throat non-sexually / non-threateningly , mentions of acne in kakuchos , reader wears a gloss / lipstain in kokos

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

— MIKEY! ♥︎

it wasn't ideal, your current situation. putting on your most expensive jewelry ; practicing your laugh ; extending your vocabulary just in case — it wasn't something you did often.

however, your biggest investor was invited to a gala, therefore you were meant to join in aswell.

letting out a breath, you enter the ballroom turned meeting area. you blink, squinting lightly at the twinkling lights before relaxing your eyes. with a small nod to yourself, you put on your prettiest smile before turning left and beginning your evening of socialization.

your feet feel numb ; your voice is aching with use ; your eyes have long since dried out — and you hadn't even seen mikey yet. he was the entire reason you were pushed to this gathering. settling your back against a wall, you let out another breath, convincing yourself to stay for just a little longer.

"you look nice."

the voice gets your attention immediately as you straighten up. mikey stands alone, just a little ways in front of you. he tilts his head and you swear his lips tilt up the slightest bit. you smooth sweaty, trembling hands over your outfit before speaking. "i've been looking for you, mister sano."

mikey's eyes call to yours — you really can't look away. he lets out a huff — you'd never say he laughed. "we're past the mister sano bit, aren't we, [name]?"

"i guess." your eyes drop to the floor briefly, just to get away from his heated gaze. a small tsk is heard before your chin is held in a gentle grasp, pulling your eyes to his once more. "mikey?"

"better." his hand drops but your face is still warm from his touch. "let's talk somewhere privately, yeah?"

— SANZU! ♥︎

a movie you don't even know the name of plays in the background as you eat your chosen snack. all day you've tried to ignore him and his pearl-blue eyes that wouldn't look away from you.

you click your tongue, turning to send a glare his way. "you are staring, sanzu haruchi—"

with a squeal, you find yourself on your back. you let out an astonished laugh as sanzu's knees go to either side of you, caging you beneath him. you gape up at him in shock, "haru!"

"let me look at you." his voice is gentle ; tender in a way you hadn't heard before. sure, it'd been years since you spoke, but he wasn't known for being soft. your eyes widen at the thought — sanzu lets out a sigh, his body slightly sagging into yours. "there we go..."

you blink a few times, begging for your contacts to stay in place as they begin to feel dry at the edges — crisp the longer you keep your eyes open. you can't help but induldge him, though, let him look at you for however long he wants.

“how dare you hide this from me,” haru caresses your cheek softly. “can't believe you’re so pretty.”

"i've always been pretty," you reply with a small frown.

sanzu grins wickedly, his hand trailing down to your throat before laying it there. "yeah... always pretty."

— KAKUCHO! ♥︎

you're avoiding him. really, you're avoiding everyone in the office at this point. with a frown, kakucho gathers a handful of blank or useless sheets of paper, slipping them into an empty folder before heading over to your office.

"just leave it in the bin!" your hand stretches out, pointing to the blue, overflowing tray. your back is turned to him, hunched over as the sound of keys clicking meets his ears. his frown deepens before the back of your chair is grabbed and spun so you now face him. you gasp, "kaku—!"

he's kneeling in front of you before you can blink. a long, relieved breath escapes his chest as he settles his forhead on your knee. "god, i—[name], i thought something was wrong with you. thought i did something to upset you."

your bottom lip is chewed through, but you continue to nibble on it anyways. "...sorry."

kakucho raises his head so that his chin sets on your knee now. gone is his work exterior and in its place is the softened, lovesick daze he shows only to you. "they look nice on you — can see you better this way."

you let out a groan, throwing your head back before looking down at him once more. "i'm breaking out so bad right now! only thing people can see is that!"

he wants to reassure you — really, acne is normal and you're still beautiful with it — but he's so enamoured by you. the way your eyes are a little glassy because of your contacts ; the frown on your lips ; the way you've been stroking his hair mindlessly just because you could—

kakucho sweeps in and steals a quick kiss. you gasp again — kissing during work hours?! he was a horrid man. kakucho grins before patting your thighs and standing.

— KOKONOI! ♥︎

the feeling of guilt creeps up as koko's doorbell rings. his hair is tossed into a bun, white strands falling into his eyes as he opens the door. you stumble in, halfway through a sentence as he offers you a pair of house slippers.

"—and, really, you're doing me such a favor!" you plop down onto his couch unceremoniously, letting out a huff as you do. "this was the worst night for me. your call was a blessing."

kokonoi blinks as he stands frozen in front of you. with a frown, he bends at the waist and simply waits until you're looking up at him. you tilt your head, phone open on your notes app as you stop mid-way through your sentence.

sharpened eyes drift down the rest of your attire. wrinkle-free clothes ; your nicest shirt ; your lucky socks? all combined with the contacts you're wearing and the gloss staining your lips— kokonoi stands straight and crosses his arms. "where have you been, exactly?"

"a date." you let out another sigh, rolling your eyes at his rigid posture. "not a good one, i assure you! had the audacity, asking to see me again — after chewing with his mouth open and spitting his food all over mine! i can never look at tortellini noodles the same."

kokonoi taks a seat beside of you, the work he called you for out of his mind as he gestures for you to keep talking. "you called just when he was going to put his number in my phone." a sneaky, proud grin grows on your lips. "i have your bonten tattoo as the picture, so that really scared him off."

while you talk, you scroll on your phone until his contact photo is shown. it's true — his side profile is fully in view. what catches his eye, however, is his name. a simple haji with a spinning heart emoji sends his own heart into a frenzy.

at kokonoi's grin, you sense trouble. you clear your throat, taking your phone from his view before scrolling on it again. "what was it you needed from me, exactly?"

an arm is thrown over your hips as kokonoi pulls himself close. his nose bumps against yours before he slides just slightly away. "for you to not go on anymore dates. unless they're with me, of course."

—— tried another one of these silly ones <3 if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyorev content, let me know! ♥︎

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @night-shadowblood-writes2 @chrofeisnightmaregf @natsumesakasakisupremacy @emperorsnero

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers oneshot #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers bonten #bonten x reader #bonten imagines #bonten fluff #bonten oneshot #gender neutral reader #mikey fluff #mikey oneshot #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro x reader #sanzu x reader #sanzu imagines #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #kakucho x reader #kakucho imagine #kakucho oneshot #kokonoi x reader #kokonoi imagine #kokonoi hajime x reader

[callsign-venus]

Put a Bow on It | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You find out that Bradley's present-wrapping skills are... less than stellar, so it's up to you to save Christmas.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, a few very light sexual references, incompetence of a grown man, fluffy fluff fluff

a/n: Thank you for the love on my previous posts — I’m really thankful to everyone who reads my silly little stories. Hope y’all enjoy this one, Merry Christmas!

“You can’t look at me like that,” Bradley says.

“Like what?” You ask, though you know exactly what he means.

It’s not that you mean to look at him with such pity, but who can blame you?

You weren’t exactly sure how he got himself into such a mess when you were only in the kitchen making coffees. Wedged between a stack of boxed Barbies and no less than 12 rolls of wrapping paper scattered across your living room floor, Bradley looks less competent aviator and more like an unsupervised 5th grader. Tattered strips of Santa wrapping paper curl around him, scraps of tape line both of his exposed thighs, and he’s so flustered he hasn’t even removed the bright red bow you tied around his head earlier. You both look down at the lumpy present sitting on the rug in front of him. For all his efforts, it wasn’t a spectacular result. 

“You did great.” You have to hide your face with a drawn-out sip of coffee because you know if he catches a glimpse of your expression, he will call you out for your bald-faced lie.

He can tell anyway. “I’m not sure lying is the best way to get on the nice list.”

You do feel bad. It was your idea to get involved in the neighborhood toy drive, and despite his protests, you pleaded for Bradley to help.

“It will be fun,” you said before kissing his pouty lips. “I’ll make us coffees and you can light a fire and it’ll be so festive.”

“I’m sure it will be,” he cupped your face with his hands, “but I’m not lying when I say I can’t wrap a present to save my life.”

“You’ll do great.” You gave him another quick kiss and considered the matter over.

So, he didn’t do great. Could you really blame him? He tried to let you know beforehand, and it’s not like his military career was spent doing arts and crafts. You take another sip of your coffee before setting both mugs down and padding over to sit on the floor next to him.

“Am I off the wrapping duties?” He gives you a lopsided smile and slides his hand around your waist.

“You wish.” You reach over his lap and undo his wrapping job. “Get ready to learn a thing or two.”

He laughs when you use his own words against him, as you have throughout your entire relationship.

When you two weren’t yet dating – but still very much infatuated with each other – Bradley used pool as an excuse to get close to you, though no excuses were needed. You were putty in his hands already.

“Get ready to learn a thing or two,” he’d murmured in your ear. It was a Friday evening and The Hard Deck was packed, so he had to get close — mustache-ticking-your-ear close — so you could hear him over the rowdy crowd of sailors. And he was teaching you how to make a combination shot, so he had to wrap his arms around you so he could guide you through the motions. And you were a receptive student, so you had to lean against him so he could feel the curve of your ass — just so he knew his technique was working.

Now, nearly a year later on the rug of your living room, you slide up behind Bradley like he did that Friday night, your fingers gliding down his thick biceps towards his hands. They’re huge under yours, earning a laugh from both of you.

“Sweet girl, I’m not sure this is gonna work,” he says as you rest your chin on his shoulder. The curled ribbon from the bow in his hair tickles your check.

“Well, I know how to play pool thanks to this little trick. I’m sure I can use it to teach you how to wrap a present.”

You guide one of his hands toward the pair of scissors and another towards the pile of wrapping paper.

“Since I’m a great teacher, I’ll even let you pick which paper to use,” you say.

He lingers over the rolls for a moment, ultimately choosing a cranberry red paper with prints of cars carrying snow-dusted Christmas trees.

“Ok, now let’s roll it out. Look at me, Bradley.”

He pulls back a little so you can make complete eye contact. Even after months of dating, his warm brown eyes undo something in you, leaving you feeling like you’re brushing shoulders with the clouds. How did you ever get so lucky?

“It’s very important to measure the paper before cutting,” your voice softens as you drop the strict teacher act. “Put the Barbie at the edge of the wrapping paper, then you kinda fold up the other edge and see if it’s long enough.”

He takes a moment to soak you in before he can bring his attention back to the present. Up close, he can fully appreciate the graceful curve of your lips, the exact shade of your eyes. In the weepy, late morning sunlight, you are radiant.

The fire crackles in the background. The only other sound is your synchronous breathing.

You lean in slightly. “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but I promised Cathy that we’d deliver the presents by 2, so you need to get moving.”

“You should boss me around more often.” He stares at you for a second longer before turning his attention back to the present.

You’re glad he turns around so he can’t witness the violent shade of red your face flushes — nearly as red as the wrapping paper.

Once the paper’s measured, you show him how to cut it with one swooshing glide of the scissors.

“It’s like I’m a professional,” he says.

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself.” You squeeze his hands gently. “We’ve still got to tape this sucker up.”

He groans as you peel the scraps of tape off his thigh.

“How did you even do this to yourself?” You collect all the tape into one big wad. “You’re a grown man”

He shrugs. “I guess my mom was gone before she could teach me.”

At the mention of his mom, your heart melts. What you wouldn’t give to have her here for him, to walk him through this process he should have learned years ago. To spend another Christmas with her boy. You run your fingers through his sun-lightened locks. One night when you two first started dating, you sat on your porch alone. Under soft-falling moonlight, you promised Carole that you’d be there for her son; promised her that she and Goose could count on you to make sure he’d always be ok.

Something in Bradley’s face makes you think you were doing just fine on your promise. You can’t help the heat that rises to your checks when you catch him staring at you.

Then, with a mischievous smile, he swipes the tape wad from you, aims it, and launches it right at your face.

You try to get mad, to lecture him about the children who will be let down on Christmas morning without their Barbie doll, but the grin on his lips washes away any amount of anger you could dredge up. He wags his eyebrows and you can’t contain your laughter as it spills out of you and fills up the living room.

“You can’t be trusted with this dangerous weapon.” You grab the tape dispenser and wipe a tear from your eye. “I’ll rip the tape for you so you can just focus on folding.”

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m actually trusted with dangerous weapons daily at work.”

You roll your eyes, but to his credit, Bradley is willing to learn. You gently guide him through the folds, but he picks it up pretty quick given that he doesn’t have to juggle the wrapping paper and the tape.

“That’s pretty good, if I do say so myself.” He holds up the present, admiring the sharp folds and the perfectly festive wrapping paper. “And I’ve got the perfect girl to thank.”

You dodge his incoming kiss, instead patting his cheek and standing up.

His brows knot in confusion before he realizes what you’ve gotten up to retrieve: a roll of velvety green ribbon.

You hold it up triumphantly. “One final touch.”

The absolute pain on his face steals the grin off yours.

You sink back down to the floor and wrap him tight in your arms, sliding your hand up his back to rub circles between his shoulders.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs against your chest, “I really don’t have that in me.”

You kiss the top of his head. If Bradley draws the line here, you’re more than happy to finish the wrapping. Hell, you’d even lace his fucking shoes if it spared him the torture of tying any more bows. You are head-over-heels for Bradley Bradshaw, and you know he knows it. It’s a good thing he’s equally head-over-heels for you.

“Ok, Bradshaw, I’ll tie the bow, but I’ll need a little help.” You break away from him and begin unspooling the ribbon. “I know your mom taught you this.”

And he smiles because he knows what’s coming.

You twist the ribbon around the package, cross-crossing it over the top. You look to him, and already he’s jumping into action. He ceremoniously raises a finger and plants it perfectly on the intersection of the ribbon.

“Perfect.” You steadily finish the bow. It’s really good, you have to admit: entirely symmetrical, huge and bouncy like a cartoon.

And then Bradley is on top of you, pulling you into his lap, smushing kisses along your jaw, working his way to your lips. His kisses are hungry, but not sinfully so. You’re hungry too. Hungry to share the rest of your lives together. To wrap presents for your kids on Christmas Eve while they pretend to be asleep down the hall. To savor early Christmas mornings in matching pajamas, sipping hot chocolate while a fire sings in the hearth. Late Christmas evenings where he pulls you into his lap on the piano bench and plays your favorite carols — a little sloppily from the spiked eggnog and having to reach around you. 

“I’m not in your way?” You would ask, already knowing his answer.

“No, you are right where you need to be.”

And he would play long into the night, celebrating the fact that he gets to spend Christmas with his sweet girl. No December 26th would pass without you waking up to find you had both lost your voices.

Your phone rings, rudely barging into your domestic dreams of the future. You’re tempted to ignore it, but Bradley accepts the call and brings it to your ear, leans his forehead against yours.

“Hey, Cathy,” you say.

“Is there any chance you can get the presents here sooner?” You and Bradley can both hear how harried the toy drive organizer sounds. “Sorry to even ask, you know I appreciate you, but some paperwork got messed up and —”

“Sure thing, don’t worry about it.” You break in to spare her the breath.

“Thank you,” she says. “And bring that sailor of yours, too. I might need help loading the truck.”

You laugh. “I’ll make sure to bring him along.”

“Thank you so much, sweetie. See ya soon.”

“See you soon.” You hang up your phone and toss it on the floor.

You peck Bradley on the check.  “Ok, ready to put those new skills to good use?”

“Ready.” He smiles and runs his hands through your hair. “Ready to do anything for you.”

You scramble out of his lap because if he keeps looking at you like that, you definitely won’t get the presents to Cathy on time.

You turn on the TV and fetch your still-steaming coffees from the table. Quickly, you and Bradley settle into an easy wrapping rhythm, the hum of a carol floating out of your TV, accompanied by the silent promise of all your Christmases — and many wrapped presents — to come.

#bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #fluff #rooster fluff #rooster fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction

[comphy-and-cozy]

love it if we made it - mat barzal

Pairing: Mat Barzal x OC (f)

Summary: Aurora Foster and Mat Barzal are friends. Sometimes with benefits, sometimes with unspoken feelings, but always with a little something extra. When they have the opportunity to close the cross-country gap between them, will they be able to overcome the skinny love and take their relationship to the next level?

Word Count: 9.2K

Author's Note: My first ever Barzal fic written for @thewintersoldierdisaster for @wyattjohnston's Winter Fic Exchange! You are such a talented writer and I really wanted to make this a good one - I hope I managed to get the Garden City details covered correctly. 😉 It was a blast to write for someone new even though I am still reluctantly slowly joining the Barzy train. Enjoy, my dear! Thank you to @smileysvech, @pyotrkochetkov, @jostystyles, and @Demi for all of your help in brainstorming, editing, sending inspirational Barzy pics, and the usual general insanity. Couldn’t do it without y’all. Also, just for the record, Mat has hair in this entire fic. No bald Barzy allowed.

Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, alcohol use (characters get drunk), Mat being a bit of a fuckboy. Smut (18+ ONLY); unprotected sex, general sexual tension/sexual themes. Masterlist

July 2013 - Vancouver, British Columbia

The crackling of the fire melds with the gentle splash of waves on the shoreline, crickets chirping happily amid the cool summer breeze. Smoke billows up, wafting to a deep sky sparkling with stars, not a cloud in sight. 

Aurora Foster watches the flames, absorbing the warmth on her legs. There’s a blue koozie on the armrest of her Adirondack chair, holding a Diet Coke. She allows herself to sink into the warm, worn cotton of her Burnaby Winter Club sweatshirt, sighing contentedly. 

“Anyone want more pizza? I’ve gotta rock a piss.”

Rolling her eyes, Aurora scoffs as the rest of the group murmurs no’s. “Charming, Fabbs.”

The next voice that rings out is clear. “Anyone wanna go for a late night dip?”

“Yeah, I’ll go.” This time of night is Aurora’s favorite time for a swim, when the lake is all but glass and the water feels like a lukewarm bath; not warm, but certainly not cold after spending a day baking under a bright British Columbia sun. 

There are no other takers, so she looks expectantly across the fire. His dark hair is shaggy, unkempt, air-dried after a day in the lake. His brown eyes lock with hers, and he jerks his head toward the dock with a grin. “Race you.”

Mat Barzal. 

A name that holds the burden of promise. He’s going to be drafted in a few years, to the Show—and he’s going to be good. Not I’m just saying that because he’s my friend and I’m supposed to say that—no, he’s going to be good, potentially even great.

Here, though, he’s just Mat. He feels weird about the weight his name is starting to hold, not really knowing what to do with the slight level of fame. He’s made a vow to himself that whatever happens, he won’t let it get to him, won’t let it change the fabric of who he is—this guy, right here, feeling the warm breeze through his hair as sprints down the wooden dock, two smaller feet pattering rapidly behind him.

“You first,” he grins, gesturing toward the ladder.

“What if there’s a big monster waiting right there and it eats me?”

“I’ll jump in and save you,” he says, like there’s no hesitation. He glances down to double check that there is no actual sign of danger. Aurora doesn’t notice, her eyes also on the dark water, illuminated only slightly by the brightness of the moon.

“You promise?”

“I promise.” The way he says it is so sure that it actually comforts her for a split second, enough time for her confidence to reach the appropriate level to jump in with a splash. 

Her body is immersed in cold for the briefest of seconds before she’s enveloped in warmth. The splash next to her tells her that Mat has joined her beneath the water. He rises to the surface a few moments later, letting out a scoff as he shakes out his hair.

“Shit. You like this?” he asks, swimming out toward the trampoline floating a few meters away. 

“It’s nice!” she says, following him. “Refreshing.”

“It’s cold.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a big macho hockey player?” 

He ignores her with a roll of his eyes, rising back out of the water to climb the ladder to the trampoline. Aurora opts to swim around a while longer, feeling the weight of the water gliding over her skin. It’s nice, heavenly even, how the water makes her weightless.

When she approaches the trampoline, the blast of cool air against her wet skin makes her shiver, goosebumps instantly covering her body. Mat glances at her, sees the way her arms have wrapped around herself in an attempt to warm herself. He extends an arm, his own skin almost dry. “C’mere.”

His arm curls around her frame, warmth of him already heating her skin. He’s not sure if it’s his heart or hers that he can feel beating—maybe it’s both, beating in a steady, sure rhythm next to one another. 

Aurora’s toes nudge his, the gesture comfortable and affectionate; a silent thank you.

June 2018 – Vancouver, British Columbia

By all accounts, it’s a normal Thursday evening in June; Aurora’s housemates are getting ready to go out to the bar—there are plugged-in curling irons, loose cans of hairspray, scattered makeup brushes all over the counter alongside an assortment of cups in varying stages of empty. A half-full fifth of Smirnoff is there too, the cap misplaced somewhere.

On any other occasion, Aurora would be right there with them, blasting Taylor Swift and chattering about if Brad will finally make a move on Carley. Tonight, though, she’s opted out in favor of spending the night on the couch in her favorite sweatpants. Just not feeling a bar tonight, she’d said.

The silence when the door finally closes behind her friends is almost deafening; she hadn’t realized how loud it was in the chaos of the pre-night-out ritual. With a contented sigh, Aurora plops down on the couch and tugs a blanket over her legs, opening Netflix and starting an episode of New Girl. 

She's part way through her second episode and her first glass of wine when she gets the text.

[Mat:] what’s the play tn

Mat. Of course. He’s home for the summer now, back after his first year in Long Island, and recently returned from winning the Calder trophy. Aurora still had a hard time connecting that this Mat, the one that she’s known since they were 12, the one who she grew up hearing make stupid dick jokes with his friends, is the same one that just won Rookie of the Year in the National Hockey League. 

Instead of typing out a message, Aurora snaps a photo of the wine glass in her hand and blanket in her lap with the TV in the background. It doesn’t take long for the response bubble to pop back up, and soon enough the whoosh of an incoming text sounds.

[Mat:] want some company?

Aurora’s heart freezes in her chest. She hasn’t spent any time alone with him since that sorority formal her sophomore year, the one she bribed him to attend with her so she wasn’t the only girl without a date. It was platonic—that didn’t even need to be discussed—and it had been nice to have a familiar figure by her side; it didn’t hurt that he was starting to make a name for himself in the hockey world as a top draft pick headed for the NHL.

What started as a simple, friendly night ended with her leg wrapped around his waist, leaning against the bathroom door of the venue, moaning his name. She didn’t know how they ended up there, but what she did know was that it was passionate, mind-boggling, life-altering sex. 

At least, to her it was. He’d never mentioned it since. 

At first, it lingered on the tip of her tongue every time he was around, waiting to be blurted out when the sinking confusion became too much to bear. But one month, two months, three months passed, with no recognition or acknowledgement that anything happened between them. 

For a while, she began to believe that she’d dreamt it; that her mind conjured the hottest, dizziest, most viscerally real dream possible. But then she’d see his eyes flick to hers during the sex scene in a movie and feel the spark of electricity when his hand would brush hers. Just briefly, but enough for her to confirm that no, she didn’t imagine it all. 

Needless to say, Aurora can’t help the rising suspicion at the seemingly random text. Surely, he couldn’t be thinking about one night years ago when he had the pick of any girl he wanted at his fingertips.

Before she can stop herself, she's typing ‘bring chocolate’ and soon, she hears her front door open. There’s a shuffle, the sound of shoes being shrugged off, before that handsome face is rounding the corner. His eyes land on her in an instant, a predatory gaze simmering behind an unassuming smile. In his hand is a plastic bag from which he fishes out a pack of peanut M&M’s, tossing them at her.

Aurora squeals, eagerly tearing open the packet and immediately tossing three into her mouth. After an expectant eyebrow raise from him, she heaves herself off the couch with a dramatic sigh and runs the short distance to him before launching into his arms. 

“Thank you, Matty,” she says, voice muffled by the black Acme sweatshirt he’s wearing. He’s warm. And big—bigger than he was before he left for New York. “And congratulations.”

He hums a response, following her as she resumes her spot, this time making room for him beside her. “You didn’t want to go out tonight? Celebrate that enormous trophy?” 

Mat shrugs, placing her feet in his lap and securing the blanket over both. “Could take it or leave it. Can’t leave you to be home alone and bored.”

She rolls her eyes and nudges his leg with her foot. “Shut up. You didn’t have to come over.”

“Honestly, I need a break after that media circus,” he confesses. “So much press, so many questions, so many pictures. It’s exhausting.”

Aurora nods understandingly, though she can only imagine being put on public display the way he is day in and day out, the attention only heightened now that he’s won the Calder. She’s seen the pictures, the articles, all of the buzz, feeling a slight tinge of jealousy—not of him, but that she has to share him with the rest of the world now.

Mat settles in, and casual conversation filters in amidst the episode, pausing at moments to hear the dialogue before another one of them is adding commentary or snorting at someone’s Instagram story. It’s so casual, so normal, his place beside her on the couch; like finally finding that one pivotal puzzle piece she’s been looking for for hours. He’s calm, relaxed, and once again she begins to wonder if she’s been creating something out of nothing this entire time. If the flood of nerves in her chest is an overreaction.

“You still seeing that frat guy? Tim, or whatever his name is?” 

The question comes out of nowhere. Aurora can’t help but wonder if she detects a hint of jealousy.

“Was never really seeing him,” she replies, leaving a heavy pause, enough time for him to fill in the blanks. It’s true, but maybe she chose her words intentionally, curious to see if that lilt in his tone really was jealousy. 

He doesn’t react much outside of a nod and an over-engineered nice, but she sees the very slight tick in his jaw. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, instead supplying, “You really gonna give me shit, Mr. Hot-Shot-NHL rookie?”

“Listen,” he grins, “it’s not my fault there’s a million single girls in New York.”

This time, Aurora does roll her eyes, if only to hide the sting she feels deep in her chest. She wouldn’t say she has feelings for Mat Barzal, but—well, it’s complicated. It’s always been there, buried deep beneath the surface, veiled as fond affection for a friend who’s grown by her side since they were 12. 

“But none of them are as pretty as you.”

Aurora has to laugh, can’t help but laugh, rather than feel the discomfort that sinks in when she processes what he said. He’s always like this—these seemingly harmless, flirty comments—but those are the ones that keep his hooks latched into her, keeping her coming back for more, dangling by a single thread of hope.

“Don’t be a dick.”

“M’not. You’re so pretty it hurts.”

She moves to kick him—playfully, mostly—but his hand catches her foot in an instant. Before she has a chance to protest, barely processing the evil grin that hatches on his face, he’s tickling her arch. Aurora shrieks, legs flailing in protest, doing her best to scramble out of his grasp. Mat’s laugh is mirthful as his strong arms easily overpower her, hands moving to her hips to pin her to the couch.

“You’re gonna—” he pauses to wrestle her down, “—hurt yourself.”

“Fuck off,” she shouts playfully, hands shoving wildly at his hands in a weak attempt to stop him from tickling at her sides. “I—I hate you!”

In a flash, Aurora finds her arms pinned above her head, large hands pressed into her wrists. She shrieks again, but the laughter dies in her throat when she realizes he’s paused, hovering over her. Her legs stop their thrashing, breath caught in her throat while her heart thumps in her chest. She isn’t sure how long they sit like that, frozen in time, staring at one another; she wonders if he’s thinking the same thing she is, flashing back to the night spent inside the dimly lit bar bathroom.

And then he’s kissing her, desperate, his open mouth pressed against hers. It consumes her, the feeling of his lips, in a way that makes her wonder how she’s survived the last two years without his touch. The thought of stopping is unthinkable, unfathomable, unbearable. 

Mat’s hand slides down her arm to cup her jaw, thumb brushing against her cheekbone while his tongue finds hers. With her now free hand, Aurora instinctively moves to run her fingers through his hair, soft and smooth. It’s long, long enough that she can wrap the locks around her knuckles, offering a firm hold that has him exhaling lowly against her mouth.

With just the simplest, subtlest move, Aurora’s flipped the switch inside of Mat that transforms him from doting, passionate lover to desperate and unrestrained. His lips pivot to nip at the base of her jaw, offering a subtle bite on his way down to her neck. 

She can hear his heavy breath, feels it hot against her skin. His palm draws warmth up her side, rucking up her t-shirt to expose her bare stomach before his hand dives beneath the hem of the cotton to press flat against her ribcage. It’s shameful how quickly Mat can render her little more than a lolling, whimpering mess, back arched eagerly to chase his touch; she wants to kick herself for giving in so easily.

His hands move in tandem with his mouth, caressing, kneading, aiding her slow descent into madness. When he tugs the cotton over her head, grateful there’s no bra impeding his view, Mat swoops down to her breasts like a starving man getting his first taste of food; with a groan, his tongue swipes over a pebbled nipple. 

Aurora’s afraid to say his name, afraid that if she calls attention to the moment, he’ll snap out of it and stop. 

And she can’t have that. 

Hands roam, chased by hot breath and wet kisses, until she’s all but naked on her living room couch, as if she lives alone and doesn’t have roommates that could come home at any given moment. 

He doesn’t even bother to take her panties off, instead ripping them to the side and wetting his tip with her slick, teasing her folds for just a moment.

Mat pauses at her entrance, breath heavy in his chest. His eyes trail up to hers, and Aurora’s heartbeat ticks, afraid he’s going to change his mind right now, when she needs him more than she’s ever needed anything in her life.

And then his eyes slink over her body with a smirk, admiring her breasts, her curves, the way her legs have wrapped around his hips—when did that happen? Mat’s dick twitches when he realizes he has nowhere to go but inside the dripping wet cunt in front of him, perfect and tempting and waiting to be filled up. He lets the low groan rumble in his chest while his lips return to the spot he sucked into her neck.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty like this,” he murmurs against her skin. “Always think of you like this.”

Mat waits for only a moment, so brief that it flits by almost unnoticed, before he’s pushing in with a low groan. Aurora gasps at the sensation, infinitely better than everything her imagination conjures when her fingers slip between her thighs at night. Nothing replicates the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside her wet heat.

“How long you been thinkin’ ‘bout this, sweetheart?” he rasps once he grows accustomed to the way she squeezes him. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout you for a long time.”

Aurora’s fingers settle into the dip of his shoulders, breasts pressed into his chest. She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a moan. How can he expect her to speak when his hips are punching into her like they’re getting paid for it?

He’s smug at the way he’s rendered her speechless, entranced by the way she feels. Sensing he might not make it long, Mat focuses on his rhythm, finding the one that has her nails scratching down his back so he’ll have a perfect reminder of her wrapped around his dick.

When her moans escalate, he brings a hand between their bodies, watching the way her eyes flutter shut when he rubs at her clit. “Bein’ so good and so pretty for me, ‘Ror. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me while you come.”

She likes when he talks, judging by the way her breath hitches and her cunt tightens, so he keeps talking, muttering pretty, filthy somethings in her ear while he circles her clit. Before long, his whispers are covered by the sound of her crying out his name—she sounds the same as she did two years ago, sweeter this time now that he knows what she feels like when she comes. 

Later, when he slips out into the night, Aurora presses her fingers against the hickey on her neck, memorizing the feeling of his lips against her skin.

July 2019 - Vancouver, British Columbia  

Aurora takes a seat in the chiavari chair beside Gina, offering Dante a wave. A string quartet plays softly, ushering in wedding guests taking their seats before the ceremony. She’s there more out of obligation to the Fabbros, the bride a cousin of theirs that she’d grown up with, too.

Mat sidles in far too close to the start of the ceremony, plopping himself into the seat next to Aurora. He bumps shoulders with her, offering a grin when she mouths “hi” as the precessional begins.

The ceremony is sweet, the food is excellent, and Aurora can’t help but tear up at the best man’s speech during dinner. Afterwards, everyone is on the dance floor, moving and grooving to a Bruno Mars mashup. 

Everyone except two people.

Outside of the tent, Mat and Aurora are sitting on a bench, watching the sunset. Not feeling this song, Mat had murmured to her before jerking his head toward the tent opening, and who was she to say no to accompanying her friend to take in a Vancouver sunset?

“You think you’ll do all this?” The question is abrupt but curious, like his mind had been wandering and he blurted it out as soon as it appeared in his head.

“What? A wedding?”

He nods, gesturing around. “Yeah. You know, the flowers, the fuckin’… doilies, and shit.”

Aurora’s eyebrow raises as she hides a smile. “Do you even know what a doily is?”

“No, but it feels like something that would be here,” he says with a shrug. Dante’s loud laughter echoes from inside, piercing the quiet reprieve from the music. 

A few moments pass, the silence comfortable. “Yeah, I think I’d like to get married someday. Do the whole thing. No doilies, though.”

Mat snorts, nudging her knee with his. “Wonder what the guy's gonna be like.”

Aurora considers for a moment. In the few minutes they’ve been outside, the sun has slipped beneath the horizon, its dim, fading light still splaying out from behind the trees. Dusk looks good on him, she thinks. “He’s gonna get me flowers. And take care of me when I’m drunk. And he’s gonna be really, really good looking.”

Mat hums, impressed. “Damn. Sounds like a catch.”

“Duh. I’m a catch,” she says, to which Mat nods in agreement. “How about you?”

“She’s gonna have a great rack,” he replies, grinning so wide he almost ruins the delivery of the joke before he’s doubling over. Aurora snorts but joins him in laughter with a playful smack to the shoulder.

Inside the tent, the DJ makes some announcement that Aurora only half hears—something about grabbing a loved one. Mat extends a hand, smiles wide, and she ignores the thump of her chest as she slips her fingers against his palm. 

The anticipation pangs in her chest as he leads her to the dance floor. She feels a sliver of apprehension as he turns to face her, placing his hands respectfully on her waist. Instantly, there’s a flash of the night on the couch, of his lips against her skin; if he’s thinking about it, too, he doesn’t show any outward indication.

Any trace of discomfort dissipates once she gives in to his gravitational pull, hands lacing together behind his neck. He’s strong, sturdy, solid—the way he’s always been, ever-present and a constant in her life since she was 12. His eyes are warm, enveloping Aurora in his gaze until she forgets that there’s anyone else around. 

They sway through the remainder of the song, and when notes begin to slow, she finds herself wishing it would last longer. Fortunately, almost like the DJ is privy to her thoughts, the beat picks up, slow song melding into something more upbeat. Mat blinks, the bubble surrounding them popping unceremoniously. He can’t bring himself to let Aurora go, not when she feels so right in his arms.

With a dramatic pull, Mat spins her around, hand supporting her back as he dips her backwards. Aurora squeals, hand clutching onto his as her footing almost loses balance. Laughter bubbles out of her throat as Mat pulls her back upright, his eyes glowing with amusement. Suddenly, he’s looking to do anything to keep hearing that sound.

It takes a truly revolting love song for them to finally leave the dance floor, beelining toward the bar in search of liquid refreshment and a break. The rest of the evening is easy, full of elation and conviviality, the kind of night that makes your cup overflow and runneth over. 

That night, when Aurora slips into bed tipsy at 2AM with a contented sigh, she falls asleep dreaming of brown eyes and a crooked smile.

December 2022 – New York, New York

When Mat saw the text informing him that Aurora had a job interview for a Software Engineering Lead at TekStack in New York, he offered up his spare bedroom before she could even tell him the date. It would be a waste of money to stay at a hotel when he had an apartment he barely used, he said, and she could make a long weekend out of it and he’d show her around Long Island.

The grin on Mat’s face grows the instant he sees her, a gray coat draped over her arm as she wheels her carry-on behind her. He opens his arms and she falls into them, the way she has a hundred times. “Welcome to New York.”

“—it’s been waiting for you!” 

“Set you up for that on purpose,” he says, offering to take her bag. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” she replies. “But I really want to get the airplane off me first. Maybe takeout for tonight?”

Mat smiles. “Say no more. I know exactly the place.”

A few hours later, Aurora is seated at Mat’s counter, a spread of styrofoam across the quartz. Her suit is hanging in a garment bag on the back of the door to the guest bedroom, waiting to be pressed before her interview. It’s so familiar, the fondness, the sense of comfort, the shared laughter over a plate—or several—of food, but it’s no longer Dante’s family’s lakehouse or the Barzal family’s finished basement. This time, it’s Mat’s fancy apartment in Garden City, the rent alone more than what Aurora makes in a month.

But it’s still the same Mat sitting across from her. Same crooked smile, same easy laughter, same silly, unabashed personality. Admittedly, she was anxious wondering about how things would be; they’d hung out plenty over the summer, kept in touch via the group chat, but their one-on-one time had been limited the last few years.

Despite the apprehension, Aurora is surprised at how quickly they shake off the rust, barely needing any recoil time before it feels like old times. Of course, the camaraderie and pleasantries aren’t nearly enough to build up an immunity to his gray Lululemon sweatpants or the peek of his sculpted Adonis belt when he raises his arms in a lazy stretch. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel when she saw him, but she reluctantly accepts the steady beat of her heart in her chest that tells her her crush is, in fact, still holding strong.

They stay up chatting far longer than Mat anticipated, bedtime delayed even further when he offers to help her prepare for her interview, shrugging with a, I’m not tired anyway—anything to spend just a little more time with her. He Googles ‘Top Interview Questions’ and spends over an hour posing them to her, letting her work through how she’d answer each. Admittedly, he had never really had much practice in the way of a job interview outside of the pre-draft conversations he’d had with various NHL GM’s, but he had more than enough experience at preparing for an onslaught of questions—and how to shake off the nerves beforehand. 

“The thing I’ve learned most is to be concise,” he says, thinking back to when he first did NHL-mandated media training. “Don’t be afraid to take a few seconds after the question to think through what you want to say. That helps so you don’t ramble.”

“Don’t ramble. Got it.”

“And listen to some boss bitch music that hypes you up on your way in. It makes a difference. I promise.”

Aurora raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna need to know what type of ‘boss bitch’ music you’re listening to pre-game, Barzal.”

“Megan Thee Stallion is my top preference,” he says with a grin, “but if you tell anyone that, I’ll deny it and say Drake.”

“Any last expert advice for me?”

“Get a good night’s sleep,” he says, then glances at his phone at the mention of the time. “Which means we’re about two hours behind schedule. Let’s get you to bed.”

Mat offers to carry her bag to the guest bedroom—decorated straight out of a West Elm catalog—and Aurora thanks him before bidding him good night. After changing into her pajamas, she quickly shakes off the urge to pad down the hallway and slip into Mat’s bed with him, reminding herself that that isn’t why she’s here. 

Instead, she settles into the soft sheets, feeling herself slipping right back into the old, familiar flutter in her chest. 

—

Serendipitously, the scheduling worked out perfectly: the interview was Friday at 1PM, and the Islanders hosted the Predators on Friday night at 7PM, which meant Dante would be in New York and around for post-game dinner, drinks, and a little mid-season reunion for the trio of friends. Aurora shook away the feeling that fate was somehow intervening.

Friday morning arrives, and Mat has morning skate, so he wishes her good luck with a tight hug before he shoves a protein bar in his mouth on his way out the door. For good measure, he sends a string of emojis (💪👩🏽‍💼✅💰) once he arrives at the rink, hoping they’ll give her an extra boost of confidence. 

Practice is relatively easy, more of the opportunity to move his body and run through some plays—nothing intense, preserving energy for the actual game. He’s thankful for a pretty painless practice as his mind continually floats to Aurora, wondering how her interview went. Mat isn’t quite sure why he feels so invested in her landing this role until he realizes that if she gets it, she’ll be moving to New York. 

“Barzy, you trying to go out after the game?” Oliver asks across the locker room. Mat’s tugging on a pair of sweatpants, fresh from his post-practice shower.

“He can’t,” Matt pipes in with a lopsided grin. “His girl is here.”

Mat groans, pressing a hand to his face as he points a middle finger in Marty’s direction. Next thing he knows, the chirps and wolf whistles fill the room and he feels Pierre aggressively nudge his shoulder.

“A girl?”

“Yeah, the hot brunette. Total smokeshow,” Casey fills in for him. 

“Woof woof, Barzy!”

“Get it, Matty B!”

“Fuck off,” Mat huffs, a dismissive hand directed at no one in particular. “She’s not my… girl.”

“She stayin’ at your place?” Dobson asks. “Gonna be at the game tonight?”

Mat nods, earning another chorus of whistles. He rolls his eyes as he tosses his gloves and practice jersey in the bin, ignoring the no pre-game sex jokes (“Can’t play 3 periods if you’ve already played one in the sheets”).

“If she’s not your girl, I’m definitely gonna make a move, then.”

“Fuck off, Dobber.”

—

Aurora arrives home from the interview to find a jersey folded on the bed, along with a handwritten note–thought you might want to have something to rep the home team. She sends back a text to Mat to thank him and respond to his inquiry about the interview before setting off to change and make her way to UBS.

The game is disappointing, if you’re an Islanders fan. But while Aurora is sporting the blue and orange jersey, she’s waiting excitedly for a Nashville Predator to meet her in the designated area Mat directed her to. 

When he rounds the corner, hair still wet from his shower, she runs up to him and leaps into his arms. Dante grins as he embraces her in a tight hug. “Feel stupid now for wearing the wrong colors tonight, huh?”

“I have to support my host,” she says with an eye roll. 

The host in question appears as if he’s been summoned, moving to hug his old friend, but not before his eyes drag over the 13 on Aurora’s arm. The three of them together just feels right, the dynamic shifted—but complete.

Once they’ve been seated at a high top in a bar in Rockville Centre, Dante turns to Aurora. “‘Ror, how was the interview?” 

“It went great,” she grins, accepting the fist bump Dante offers her. “I aced the coding exercise.”

“You’re such a badass. I picture you like one of those hackers in the movies.”

Aurora snorts, shaking her head. She thanks the waiter who places her drink in front of her. “It’s not really like that, but thanks.”

Conversation flows easily amongst the trio–only one comment from Dante razzing Mat for the 4-1 loss–and eventually the food arrives, along with another round of drinks. 

“So… you really gonna join us and become a Yank?” Dante probes over his meal. 

“To be honest, I don’t even know if I’d accept it,” she says quietly. Mat watches the way her lip disappears between her teeth as she contemplates; he doesn’t envy the gargantuan decision that lies ahead of her. “It’s a big move to make.”

As dense as he knows he can sometimes be, Mat recognizes this as a pivotal opportunity for him to share his own experience moving across the continent. He doesn’t have much in the way of advice, the distance something he just grew accustomed to in time, but he knows what it’s like; feeling the divide between him and the rest of his life like a bruise that won’t quite heal, the precious few-hour window where phone calls and texts make 5,000 kilometers feel like 10.

In so many words, he tells her so, aided by Dante’s supporting murmurs in a rare serious moment. Aurora absorbs it, if nothing else, comforted by the fact that they understand—kind of. It’s a little different moving cross-continent when you’re going to make millions of dollars, but money certainly doesn’t make the distance less of a burden to carry.

“FaceTime is your best friend,” Dante says, and Mat nods in agreement.

“Oh, is that why I get one FaceTime from you every two months?” she sticks her tongue out at Dante. Mat makes a mental note to FaceTime her more often. If she moves to New York, he won’t have to.

“No, that’s ‘cause you’re not my best friend,” Dante jokes, and Aurora scoffs playfully, eyes rolled in annoyance. 

Sensing the end of the semi-serious moment, Mat stands up. “Gotta rock a piss.”

“Charming, Barz.”

Dante watches Mat’s retreating figure, eyeing the brown locks until they disappear down the hallway toward the restrooms. His gaze moves to Aurora’s, lowering his head conspiratorially. “Is something happening?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You two. You seem… different.”

Aurora’s eyebrows raise. “Different how?”

“Just… different,” Dante shrugs, then takes another swig of his drink. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t know you’ve been in love with each other forever.”

Jaw dropping in shock, Aurora feels her face suddenly get very hot. “That’s not true!”

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were still in denial,” he says, feigning self-defense and fighting a smile. “My bad. I’ll go back to trying to ignore the way you googly eyes each other.”

“I do not make googly eyes at him!”

“Man, ‘Ror, that acceptance is really buried deep down in there, huh?” Dante grins, dodging the french fry she launches in his direction. Then, he’s back to serious—kind of. “I know it’s a big leap to take when you’ve been friends for so long, but you haven’t been subjected to seeing the way you look at each other. I wish you’d just make out already. It’s disgusting.”

Aurora doesn’t have the heart to tell him they’ve already done far more than make out—multiple times—and part of her is relieved that Mat never divulged that information to his best friend despite every opportunity to. This way, it’s their little secret, something for just the two of them to have. 

Mat’s return effectively ends the conversation. They pay their tabs—Aurora ignores Dante’s pointed look when Mat picks hers up without a word—and make their way to the next bar.

Several hours and far too many Palomas later, Mat unlocks the door to his apartment. He struggles slightly under the stumbling weight of Aurora, who’s latched onto him as she drunkenly giggles. He’s not much better off, but the Uber ride sobered him up enough to think to order DoorDash, conveniently arriving a few minutes after they get in the door.

Coaxing her to eat is a bit of a struggle, but he finally manages to get her into a barstool, munching contentedly on chicken tenders.

“C’mon, ‘Ror,” he murmurs once he sees she isn’t going to finish the third tender. He wraps an arm around her waist, helping her out of the seat to stand her up. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

“Carry me!”

Without any additional warning, she’s leaping into his arms. Mat lets out an oof but manages to secure her in his arms as he carries her to the guest bedroom. When he places her on the mattress, her legs don’t untangle from his waist, and Mat feels the near instant pulse in his groin. Aurora’s eyes are closed, but her hips move, subtly, and he allows himself to revel in the feeling of her brushing against him. It doesn’t take long for his dick to become hard as steel, aided massively by the soft, sleepy whimpers that leave Aurora’s throat.

“Matty,” she whispers, hands seeking out the dips in his biceps.

Mat wants nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and devour her like he’s been aching to from the moment he saw a glimpse of her in a towel coming out of the shower this morning. He’s got just enough booze in his system to cloud his judgment, hand trailing up her side and savoring the warmth of her body against his palm. His dick twitches in his pants when he glides a hand over Aurora’s breast, yearning to tug the cups of that stupidly sexy corset down to repeat his fantasy.

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he summons every single ounce of self-restraint left in his body and tears himself away from her tempting frame. Much to his chagrin, Aurora lets out the most devastating, disappointed mewl and Mat swears he can feel his heart (and dick) shatter at the sound.

“‘Ror,” he whispers. “We can’t.”

“Why not? S’not like we’ve never… done it before,” she slurs, reaching to run her hands across his pecs. He indulges in the feeling for just a brief moment, his resolve fleeting with every second.

“Not like this.”

“Y-you—” she hiccups, then frowns when he gently takes her hands off of him, “—you don’t… want me.”

“No,” Mat says quickly. He’s pretty sure she won’t remember in the morning, but if she does, he wants her to remember this. “I do. But I don’t want it to be like this.”

“Only wore this so you’d take it off,” she murmurs, and Mat groans, the devil on his shoulder whispering very strong reasons why he should give into temptation.

Ultimately, the good guy in him wins the battle, ignoring the throbbing of his dick when he helps Aurora to shimmy off her skintight leather pants. He does his best to avoid staring at the flimsy scrap of fabric between her thighs and pretends not to notice how little it covers. Her body is almost entirely dead weight as he tries to figure out how to remove her corset, eventually tugging it over her head; her breasts fall free, and he chokes on his own spit as he desperately looks around for something to cover her with. 

Dashing to his room, he grabs a t-shirt—only a little bit intentionally selecting an Islanders tee in order to see her wearing his colors again; on his way back, he pours a glass of water and grabs a bottle of Advil from the bathroom. When he returns, Aurora’s breathing is heavy and she’s lying in the same position he left her in, finally asleep. 

Mat places the water on the nightstand, then notices her phone and plugs it into the charger. Gently, he slides the t-shirt over her head and maneuvers her arms through the sleeves, then situates her and tucks her in before pulling the blanket up to her chin. With a kiss on her forehead, Mat quietly steps back to return to his room, ready to palm himself off, the image of her tiny panties and her tits seared into his brain.

Just before he shuts the door, he hears a quiet whisper of his name, a soft Matty in the darkness. He pauses, waiting for her to speak again.

“Stay.”

Something in her voice makes his heart ache. He stands, frozen in place, hesitant to return to her; afraid that he won’t have the willpower to resist her if she makes a move again. Like an unruly stepchild, his dick throbs as he adjusts himself.

“Please?”

Her voice is so sweet, he can’t help himself. His feet move of their own accord, back to the bed before he’s crawling under the covers beside her. Aurora’s arm immediately wraps around his stomach, snuggling into the crook of his shoulder. As he listens to her dozing off, Mat pretends it’s the alcohol that blankets his heart with warmth and not the girl sleeping soundly in his arms.

—

Bright light wakes her first. There’s a few, beautiful seconds of peace before the throbbing begins.

Aurora groans loudly, hand flying to shield her eyes. Timidly, she stretches her legs out slowly, to avoid the wave of searing pain through her skull. She has a memory of Mat’s hands touching her, dragging their way up her body, but she can’t decide if that was real or just a dream. Judging by the empty space next to her in bed, she assumes it was a dream.

She gropes for her phone on the bedside table—thankful that she had the foresight to plug in her phone in her inebriated state—and opens Instagram. Dante’s green Close Friends story bubble is one of the first she sees. The video that lies within makes her groan: it’s Aurora, illuminated by the dim, disco lights of the bar they ended up at in Rockville Centre, making an absolute fool of herself dancing. If you can even call it dancing. It’s more like a series of unhinged, discombobulated movements that barely follow the pulse of the music playing over the speakers.

But Mat Barzal is in the background, watching her like she put the stars in the sky. His eyes are warm, and the smile on his face is soft, relaxed; a look of adoration. Of love.

[Gina:] Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Mat? [Gina:] Dude is looking at you like you just birthed his firstborn on Dante’s story  [Gina:] Wait, he didn’t knock you up, did he?

Aurora snorts at the texts from her pseudo-sister. 

[Aurora:] Funny enough, your brother asked me the same thing [Aurora:] And no, he did not knock me up  [Gina:] Still waiting on the answer to my first question

Aurora is halfway through typing a message (“I’ll call you when I get home”) when she hears the front door open and close. A few seconds later, there’s a gentle knock at the door before a messy-haired Mat pokes his head in. “G’morning, sunshine.”

She groans, throwing the blanket over her head in an attempt to shield herself. “Can you stop yelling?”

He laughs, and though it’s lovely, the sound pierces her brain with a fiery stake. “So you don’t want me to tell you there’s bagels in the kitchen?”

Aurora peeks her head out from under the comforter. “Bagels, you say?”

“Bagel sandwiches,” he corrects. “Best on Long Island.”

Contemplating for a moment, Aurora glances at the glass of water on the nightstand, along with the two Advil sitting by it. He must have put them there this morning. She downs then, throws on a sweatshirt, and trudges into the kitchen behind Mat.

Aurora is convinced the bagel sandwiches have magic in them, reinvigorating her brain and hitting just the right spot. The two of them chew in silence for a while, Mat choosing to give her a few minutes to come back to life.

When he senses the medication might have kicked in, he speaks, slowly. He isn’t sure why he’s feeling so nervous. “Are you sure you have to go back today?”

She laughs and nods. “Sadly, I do have to get back to my actual job that I haven’t quit yet.”

“Just saying, you can come and be my roommate–free of charge. You just gotta do the dishes and help with a little laundry.”

Aurora’s eyebrow raises, taking a long sip of the hot mug of coffee he’d placed in front of her ten minutes ago. “So you want a live-in maid?”

“Well, when you say it like that…” Mat trails off with a laugh. “Really though. When are you supposed to hear back?”

“They just said in a couple weeks,” she shrugs. Only a few more weeks before life could change forever.

Something in their goodbye is different; a little bit timid, maybe even hesitant, but neither call it to attention. Mat gives her a squeeze in the departures lane, wishing her a safe flight, and Aurora promises to keep him updated on the job.

He watches her slip between the sliding doors, watching her figure retreat until he can’t see her anymore.

January 2023 — Vancouver, British Columbia 

Aurora huffs, blowing the hair out of her eyes as she concentrates on her phone in her hand. She types, deletes, then re-types her message. 

I got the job. 

Her finger hovers over the button to send, heart pounding. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous, not exactly, but she knows there’s a lot of weight behind those four words, knows that they have the potential to change everything. For her. For him. Everything.

[Mat:] Congratulations! Told you you’d kill it. 😊

The text is followed by a gif of Buddy the Elf, and Aurora almost snorts at the stupidity of it. She takes a breath, almost… disappointed? If nothing else, she was expecting a bit more excitement, more fanfare. 

Aurora presses down on the message and gives it a thumbs up.

Three hours later, she’s on the phone with Gina, gushing over the excitement of her job offer. She hasn’t even accepted it, but she’s still wistfully dreaming of how she might decorate her Manhattan apartment, anticipating the charm—among other things—of being in the greatest city in the world. 

Gina senses Aurora’s hesitation before she even says anything. “But…”

“…but if I go, I’m pretty sure I’m going to get my heart broken.” She can hear Gina contemplating on the other line, probably debating how to deliver her latest blow of hard-hitting advice.

Gina’s next sentence is quiet, but confident. “You just need to talk to him, ‘Ror.”

“I know.”

Aurora’s phone buzzes, but it isn’t until she gets off the phone with Gina a few minutes later that she sees the second text appear on her screen.

[Mat:] so, we gonna do this? [Aurora:] do what?

She watches the text bubbles appear, then disappear. The seconds feel like an eternity before a FaceTime call is popping up, a photo of 17-year-old Mat with upside down sunglasses on. Sliding to answer, she’s greeted by the sight of Mat, arm resting behind his head, silver chain peeking out of the hem of his white t-shirt. His hair is ruffled, and he’s looking at the camera with a knowing smirk.

“You and me,” he says simply. It takes Aurora a few moments to realize he’s responding to her text—and a few more before she realizes what he’s saying.

“You–are you—what?”

“You know, give it the old college try.” He offers a cheeky shrug of his shoulders, a flash of his charming smile.

“Mat, are you asking me out?”

“Were you expecting a grand proposal with roses and champagne?”

She ignores his snigger, too frenzied to acknowledge his sarcastic quip. Instead, she opts to get to the real question she has burning a hole in her chest. “Where is this coming from?” 

“I’ve been waiting for a chance with you since we were 15, ‘Rora. Jus’ never had one ‘til right now.”

Aurora’s jaw drops, words completely absent from her brain. This was everything she’d wanted to hear for the better part of a decade, and here he is, as casual as if he was asking her to pass the salt at the dinner table. 

Mat’s waiting for a response, so she shakes off the surprise and does her best to gather her composure. She isn’t sure what to feel: elated, irritated, and skeptical, and everything in between. “And you never thought to tell me you felt this way?”

He shrugs. “Jus’ did, didn’t I?”

Aurora resists the laugh at the simplicity of his Boy Brain. “Mathew Michael Paul Barzal, if you are fucking with me and this is some shit idea of a joke—”

“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, then a glint takes over in his eyes. “I would like to be fucking you, though.”

An exasperated sigh leaves her throat, though she begrudgingly notes the way her stomach flips at his statement. “Can you not do—that—for five minutes, please? This is a lot of information to take in.”

Mat hums an apology, not really sorry. He watches the way she puts her phone down, his view now the slowly spinning ceiling fan in her apartment bedroom. He can hear the sigh, the sound of her feet padding slowly on the hardwood floor–pacing.

“I’m serious, Aurora.” He announces it out, loudly, maybe a little more formally than he expected. 

Her forehead peeks over the camera, frizzy, unstyled post-shower waves falling over her face. “Fuck, Mat.”

“You could come live with me in Garden City,” he says. “Take the subway in on the days you go into work. Could set up an office for you in the den.”

“Mat, I’m not fucking moving in with you when I don’t even know what this is,” she says, exasperated, ignoring the thought he’s clearly put into it all. She hears the words he’s saying, but after almost a decade of missed connections, crushed hopes, and mixed messages, she’s hesitant to really take them to heart. It’s a defense mechanism, not willing to trust him even though she’s pretty sure he’s serious. “Do you realize how insane you sound?”

“M’not,” he says, shakes his head for emphasis. “It’s always been you, Ror.”

At that, Aurora has to sit down, the weight of the words smacking her clean in the chest. She can feel the magic, the warmth, the fuzzies enveloping her heart, ready to soar into the clouds at what he’s saying. At the same time, she’s confused, uncertain, maybe a little angry. More frustrated than mad, really, but she knows she deserves an explanation all the same.

“Why haven’t you said anything this entire time? It’s been years, Mat. I’ve loved you since we were fifteen—waiting this whole time to hear you say this, to give me any fucking clue that maybe you felt the same way.”

He looks like a puppy who has been scolded for destroying a roll of toilet paper. Then, “You think I don’t want to be with you?”

“You never gave a sign. You never even acknowledged what happened between us.”

It’s the first sign of any remorse when Mat sighs, his eyes cast down from the camera. “I—I thought it was casual. We’ve lived so far apart I just thought—”

“—thought it wasn’t worth it?”

“No,” he says quickly, looking up to meet her gaze. “I thought you wouldn’t want to do it. The distance.”

“Thought you regretted it,” she admits. Her voice is so quiet Mat barely hears it.

“Regret sleeping with the girl I’ve been in love with since I was in high school? Yeah, okay,” he snorts. “My only regret is that we haven’t been doing it all this time.”

Aurora hums, overwhelmed by his confession—if you can call it that—and the influx of feelings that have inundated her chest. What he’s saying makes sense, in a twisted, boy-math kind of way.

“What does being—” she swallows the word girlfriend like a disgusting cough syrup. “—together look like?”

“Whatever you want it to look like.”

“What do you want it to look like?”

Mat hums. He thinks, envisions what calling Aurora his girl—for real, not just when he’s getting razzed by his teammates–would look like. A picture of waking up with her in his arms, sleepy and smiling. Eating takeout on the couch, her feet in his lap, sporting one of his t-shirts while they catch up on Succession. Seeing her in the stands at UBS, wearing his number on her back. Laughter, comfort, happiness. Home. 

In other words, the entire weekend he spent with her.

“Don’t say something stupid like, ‘unlimited sex’,” she adds, the dreamy smile on his face alerting her to the idea that some of his thoughts may, perhaps, be unsavory.

“Wasn’t gonna,” he replies, “but now that you mention it…”

“I’m going to hang up.”

“I’m just joking, ‘Ror. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that would be top of my list. But you gotta know that you’re way more to me than just great tits and a fat ass.”

“Mat!”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he says, holding a hand up as if to defend himself from her scathing tone. Aurora’s eyes roll and she scoffs, though Mat swears he sees the corner of her lip turn up just slightly. “I’d… want it to look exactly like this.”

Aurora blinks, not expecting such a simple answer—not that she had any idea of what to expect out of his mouth, ever. The concept that they’re already there, minus the labels, is… overwhelming. A little bit unnerving, because everything that flicks through her mind just feels like more and more evidence that he’s right. Dante, Gina, everyone else saw it—she’d just been blind to it the whole time.

“So,” he says slowly, afraid to pop her thought bubble. “What d’you say?”

“Wish you were here and not on FaceTime,” she mumbles, embarrassed at the vulnerability that slips out.

“I’ll get a flight to Vancouver right now, if it helps.”

Aurora smiles melancholy, and it tastes bittersweet. She knows he’s serious, would be by her side as soon as humanly possible, if she asked. But she also knows his influence will only sway her in one direction, and she needs to make sure she’s making an unbiased decision.

“Ror?”

“I–I need some space, okay?”

“I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

—

The next week is a blur, a mess of emotions and running through the same scenarios in her head over and over again. Aurora sits at the countertop on FaceTime with Gina, dissecting the options for what feels like the thousandth time. 

“I don’t know what he doesn’t understand about space but this sure isn’t it,” she says, glancing at the bouquet of flowers sitting in a pretty—and expensive—glass vase.

“I think it’s sweet,” Gina insists. “Besides, we all know he isn’t the smartest.”

“It feels like he’s pressuring me, Gin,” Aurora says.

Gina rolls her eyes. “So he wants to show you he cares after years of burying his feelings. Sue the guy, why don’t you?”

Dusting a crumb off of the kitchen counter, scrolling through the relocation document TekStack had sent her along with her offer, Aurora sighs. Gina’s right; other than the flowers, he’d cooled it on everything else, and she missed it—the stupid memes, the goofy texts, the random (and gross) Snapchat series of him peeing in different cities. Missed him.

“Can’t wait to visit you. Keep the sex to a minimum while I’m in the guest bedroom, ‘kay?”

“Shut up!”

February 2023 — New York, New York

Mat fidgets, wiping his hands on his sides before glancing at his watch for the 16th time in five minutes. 3:17pm. Any minute now.

When he sees her coming down the catwalk, he doesn’t think twice; his strides quicken, along with the tick of his heart, and his fingers itch in anticipation. When he reaches her, he ignores the look of surprise on her face, hands cupping her jaw and pulling her mouth to his in a kiss that takes her breath away.

“I love you,” he says breathlessly when she pulls away, an expression of pure shock on her face. “Should’ve been telling you that for years. Please, please, please be mine. For real.”

The corners of Aurora’s lips twitch before they curl into a smile, and Mat has to resist the urge to kiss her again before she can even answer.

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna do an elaborate proposal,” she says with a laugh. 

“Would, if that’s what it took,” he mumbles. He knows he’s being a simp, but he’s not missing this chance now that it’s right in front of him, so close he can taste it—literally. Her chapstick lingers on his lips, subtle but enough that he knows it’s all her.

“Lucky for you, Barzy, I think an airport love confession is the perfect amount of elaborate.”

SIMILAR CONTENT

The Mystery of Love* Third Time’s the Charm* Adore You

#mat barzal fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x oc #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction

[gretagerwigsmuse]

skyrockets in flight, afternoon delight

Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw has a little too much adrenaline pumping through his veins after a test flight at work and needs to ask his girl for a favor...

OR office sex - just office sex, in your fancy, glass office - and bradley in his flight suit

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 3.6k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content (p in v, vaginal fingering, public sex(ish) they fuck against a glass window, and as always with these two slight dom/sub and praise and rank kink elements). this entire fic is an hr nightmare

gonna find my baby, gonna hold her tight, gonna grab some afternoon delight

“Pick up, pick up, pick up. Come on, sweetheart, pick up.” 

Bradley drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and tapped his left foot on the truck-bed as he sat in some mid-afternoon San Diego traffic. The dial tone had only been droning on for - he glanced at his phone - thirteen seconds, but fuck - everything seemed like an age when he was rocking what felt like the worst semi of his life. 

Because how the fuck did this still happen to him? Wasn’t getting keyed up on adrenaline something that they beat out of cadets in flight school? Bradley sure as hell thought it was -

Your voice suddenly filled the car. “- Hey, bubs.”

“Hey - err hi." Bradley cleared his throat. "Are you uhh - you busy?” 

“I just finished my meetings for the day - what’s wrong?” you asked without any further preamble. 

Fuck, he didn’t want you to be worried. You two normally texted during the day, sure. But a call was a little out of the ordinary. “N-nothing uhh like that. Can I swing by your office? Just kinda need -”

“- You’re scaring me -”

Bradley groaned. “- I kinda need you - like need you? I did this run at work just now and it got me a little keyed up? And fuck - I haven’t felt like this since flight school and I ran through all my soapy titty pics in my office, but nothing’s working and I can’t shake the adrenaline or whatever the -”

“- Fuck.” He could picture you moving around on your desk chair, that skirt you had on this morning riding up your thighs as you subtly rubbed them together, your legs bare but topped off with a pair of heels. “Bradley -”

God it was a miracle he was able to stay in the passing lane. He slipped one hand off the steering wheel to adjust himself. “- I need to fuck you - like now.”

It was quiet on your side of the line and Bradley briefly thought the call had dropped until he heard you humming Afternoon Delight. 

He scoffed. “Very funny…”

“My motto’s always been when it’s right it’s right. Why wait until the middle of a cold dark night…” 

On his end of the line, Bradley groaned. It was a mix of exasperation and longing. He could picture you perfectly, sitting in your office, spinning around on your desk chair with a coy smile on your face. It was a fantasy of his that he had long wanted to play out. 

And now was his chance. 

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes and I want you on your desk waiting for me.” And then he hung up before you could say anything in response. 

-------

Sure enough, Bradley pulled up to your office some ten minutes later - if he had pushed the speed limit a little too much on the last stretch of I-5 to Del Mar then he was just lucky he hadn’t been pulled over. After having dropped you off for work a couple times when your car had been in the shop or you had forgotten something, Bradley knew where to park, but he hadn’t exactly been inside your office before. And he didn’t necessarily think it was the best first impression to be sporting a semi when he met some of your coworkers for the first time. 

So, he quickly glanced around his car, desperate for something to carry to hide his problem until he found a folder of paperwork in the back seat. That could work - he’d say he needed you to sign something and that it had to be notarized by the end of the day - hence the late afternoon drive out to Del Mar. 

As he approached the front doors, his phone buzzed. You’ll have to check in with Margie at the front desk once you get upstairs - I told her you were…coming 

Bradley rolled his eyes. Funny girl. He nodded towards the security guard at the main entrance and was thankful he was wearing his flight suit - it simultaneously created more and fewer questions, but it did give him some legitimacy. 

Even if he was only in the building to have a quickie with his fiancée. 

The elevator ride to the top floor passed quickly and before Bradley knew it, he was approaching the frosted glass doors to your company’s office. He made sure the folder he grabbed out of the car was still covering his crotch area as he walked up to Margie at the front desk.

“You must be Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?” Bradley nodded. “She said the commander part was important.”

Fucking brat. 

“And you’re Margie?” The older woman simpered and Bradley wouldn’t have minded chatting her up for the next few minutes - if only because he knew it would piss you off - but he really really needed you. He flashed his license, confirming his identity, and Margie printed him off a visitor’s pass. “Just got to drop these forms off for my girl to sign, could you point me in the direction of her office?”

Margie wheeled around her desk, clearly intent on showing him the way herself, but Bradley practically jumped back once she got closer. “I can go myself, just need to be uhh - pointed in the general direction?”

“Oh - of course, just down the hall, take a right, and she’s the fourth door on the left. Pretty sure she’s the only one on her team in the office today. It’s normally pretty quiet on Fridays.”

Thank fucking god. With a final nod towards Margie, Bradley headed down the hallway. The offices were all relatively dark the further he got into the bowels of the building. From your chatting about it, Bradley knew your fourth floor office consisted of floor to ceiling glass windows that looked out onto the street in the back right corner of the building - as opposed to the CAVA and Shake Shack in the front. He took a right and then counted one, two, three, four doors on the left until he saw your name prominently affixed to the wall with your job title underneath it. He groaned. 

His fucking smart girl. 

He knocked on the door and barely waited for your soft come in before pushing the frosted glass door open. And there you were, perched on the edge of your glass desk, just like he had requested. Your plaid, grey skirt was sitting sinfully high on your thighs and your black, heeled Mary Janes made your legs appear even longer than normal. You looked like every one of his fantasies come to life. 

“Jesus, that was fast - did you fly the -”

Bradley crossed the room in two strides, before he pulled you against him. God, you felt as good as he had imagined - better even. You gasped against his lips and twined your arms around his neck, appearing as desperate for him as he was for you.  

He pulled your black silk blouse out of the waistband of your skirt and grabbed your right leg to hike around his waist. His hand - that wasn’t cupping your breast through your bra - slid up your thigh and towards that sweet spot between your legs. And fuck him - you weren’t wearing any underwear. He groaned your name. 

“You do that for me?” You nodded. “I need you so much, you have no idea, sweetheart. Nothing worked, I tried everything, but nothing -”

“- Bra-Bradley,” you said between sighs as he peppered you with kisses, “the door - lock the door…”

Loathe as he was to do it, he quickly pulled away from you to lock the door. When he turned around, you had sat back on the edge of your desk, legs spread open invitingly. 

“God, look at you…” 

You glanced down at his crotch. “And look at you, poor thing,” you said with only the slightest hint of condescension. The folder he had brought into your office was gone - he didn’t really know where, probably somewhere on the floor - so the evidence of his desire, of his need for you was obvious. “Come here.”

Bradley didn’t need to be told twice. You fiddled with the zipper on his flight suit and slowly dragged it down his body until it rested on his hips, where just the hint of his black boxer briefs was visible. 

You snuck your hands underneath his black t-shirt. He sucked in a breath as the cool metal of your engagement ring glided across his abs and he gripped your thighs tightly in response. Your hands slid lower and started palming his cock over his flight suit. The satisfaction was instantaneous and he sighed. Why did your hands always feel so much better than his own? 

“God, Bradley - you’re so wrecked, bubs…” You slipped your hand between the flap on his boxer briefs, pulling his cock out, and he bucked it into your hand. “You want me to suck you off?”

He shook his head tightly. “No, wanna be inside you. S’only thing that’ll help.”

With shaky fingers, Bradley started unbuttoning your black silk blouse, eventually discarding it on your desk. He moaned once he saw your pert breasts peeking out from the cups of your black lace bra. It was one of his favorites and he knew it had a matching pair of underwear that was probably neatly folded away in your tote bag. 

“So gorgeous, needed this…” he babbled, mouthing at your breasts over the black lace. 

Because there was nothing like having the real thing in front of him. The real breasts, the real body, the real you. That was always so goddamn responsive towards him and could talk back and soothe his aching cock with your hands and press both the sweetest and sloppiest kisses across his skin.

You were a dream. And you were sitting right in front of him. 

Bradley snuck his hand behind your back to unclasp your bra and you jutted your breasts out at the action. Your nipples hardened and he palmed them, loving how soft and smooth they felt in his rough and calloused hands. The same hands that had just been throttling the clutch of his plane as he cruised above the Mojave Desert less than an hour ago. 

You grabbed the back of his neck and played with the ends of his hair, pulling him towards you for a kiss and slightly sliding off the edge of your desk in the process. Meanwhile, Bradley repositioned his hands so they were now trailing up your thighs, getting closer and closer to your cunt with every passing second. He could already feel the heat pouring off you and the slick coating the silk lining of your skirt. Maybe once you took care of him, you’d let him have a taste? But for now, his fingers started coaxing your wet folds. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re soaking.” You whined and buried your face in his neck, placing butterfly kisses there. “You get this wet talking about supply chain management?”   

“Kept thinking about you - trying to get off on your own - knowing you had to come all - ohhh - the way here for me to take - take care of you.”

Bradley groaned as he felt you clenching around his fingers. Your own hands were feebly grasping his arms, desperate for any sort of support. 

“Almost wish there were more people in the office today.” 

As he spoke, your lips trailed down his jawline, across his cheeks and neck, before they reached his ear. Your teeth nipped on the lobe and Bradley moaned. 

“They’d see me come in - looking ready to take you on the conference table. Then they’d hear all your pretty little gasps and moans and cries from down the hall, wondering how they’d look you in the eye next time you gave a presentation or bent over to pick something up, knowing they heard you getting fucked against your desk all afternoon like a dirty little slut, cause we both know you can't keep quiet.”

You whimpered. “Ple-please, Bradley. Please.”

“You know, at first I thought I wouldn’t last long when I finally saw you, but now it seems like you’re the one who’s not gonna last, huh, sweetheart?”

You let out a cry as he crooked his fingers just-so. “Bubs -”

“- Shh, shh. You gotta be quiet, sweetheart. Don’t want everyone to hear how much of a needy little thing you are? How you had to call me to come up here to take care of you?”

“But - but you called - me…”

“Hmmm, but they don’t know that.” You keened. Whether it was at the thought of your coworkers finding out how much of a slut you were or how Bradley’s fingers felt as he scissored them in your sopping cunt, he didn’t really care. 

“I just wanted to - to take care of you -”

“- Seems like I’m the one taking care of you right now…” 

“What made you - made you like this, bubs?” You rolled your hips. “Some risky flight man - maneuver? The thought of - mmmm - beating Lieutenant - Com-commander Seresin at something - ”

Fucking brat.  

Bradley growled at the mention of his quasi-nemesis and pulled his fingers back. How dare you get Hangman’s rank right when you always fucked up Bradley’s?

“- Fucking brat -” he stated his previous thoughts. You whimpered.

“- And how much better you are than him?” you continued and the fingers were back. You clenched around them and he bit back a smirk. “How much - ohhh - how much smarter - fa-aster and how much bigger you - Bra-Bradley…”

He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to have you - all of you - now. Have the one name you were saying be his - not Lieutenant Commander Seresin, but Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. 

“Think you’re ready, sweetheart?”

You nodded feverishly. “Yes, yes. Need you -”

He briefly held your wrists to stop you pawing at him. “- Need who?”

“Need you - need my Bradley.” Any other time, the response would’ve made him smile, but today it wasn’t quite the answer he was looking for from you. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your entrance, teasingly, and you whimpered. “Fine, fine - need Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw to fuck me.”

His rank was said with an undercurrent of sass, but he could deal with that later when you were home. 

“Good girl.” He cupped your cheek. “Now was that so hard?”

You glanced up at him with a pout. “Please, just fuck me.” 

That did it. Bradley grabbed the backs of your thighs and pulled you even closer, kissing you for all you were worth. Your feet didn’t even touch the floor, they just swung back and forth. 

“Hmm, but there’s much shit on your desk for me to fuck you there. Would hate to mess anything up for my smart girl...” 

You arched your back at his words, always loving whenever he called you smart. But you both also loved whenever he rendered you stupid. - whenever he fucked you stupid.

“Someplace else then?” Bradley glanced around the office, ignoring the two chairs in front of your desk and the bookcases along the inner wall, before landing on the southward facing windows.

You followed his gaze and sighed. “God, can you imagine the mess? You’d have to come inside me, but I’d get to walk around the rest of the afternoon with a present.”

A present.

His cum - dripping down your thighs, dripping onto your desk chair as you talked to your boss or John from emerging markets and even as you said goodbye to Margie. He growled.

“Who’s in that office? The one next door?” He nodded towards the identical glass building to his right. 

“It’s just Deloitte, but it’s Friday so none of them are working anyway.” 

Bradley assumed that was a Big Four joke. “Then I guess they’ll miss it…” He set you down on your already unsteady feet and pulled the two of you over towards the window. You let out a gasp once your back hit the glass and Bradley invaded your space. 

“How do you want me?” You whispered, watching his hands rove up and down your bare arms and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Turn around.” He didn’t give you a chance to do it yourself, he just grabbed your hips and pressed you against the glass wall. Bradley took it as a good sign - he supposed - that he couldn’t see into the office across the way - meant they couldn’t see the two of you either.

You hissed once you made contact with the glass. “It’s cold, bubs.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll warm right up.” His lips trailed up and down your neck until he found your pulse point and sucked. You whined. There’d be a mark there later, but it had all weekend to disappear.

Or not. 

Without much grace, let alone any mind to the dry cleaning, Bradley bunched your skirt up past your hips, baring your ass to him and your sopping wet cunt to whomever may happen to be looking at the fourth floor, back corner office from the outside at half past three on a Friday. 

He widened your stance with his feet and then dragged his right hand across your still wet folds. You whined and rubbed your ass against his crotch. “Want your cock inside me, need to feel you - please…”

And who was he to refuse when you had offered so willingly. “That’s my girl.” 

Bradley pumped himself a couple times before he slid right into you. You both gasped at the sensation and it felt like the coil of frustration that had been Bradley's constant companion for the past hour or so was lessening. 

“God, you feel so good - just what mhmm - what I needed,” he breathed against your ear. His hands gripped your hips tightly underneath your skirt as he thrusted into you from behind. “Why don’t you touch yourself for me, hmmm?”

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, allowing him to nibble at your neck. “Where?”

Without even breaking his stride, Bradley grabbed your right hand and brought it to your clit. You gasped at the action and he coaxed your fingers to play with the little nub. Eventually, he removed his hand from yours, trusting you to do the work on your own. “Good girl.”

Now content, he brought his hand back to your hip. Your little whimpers and moans were the perfect compliment to his deep groans and pants. Plus, the thought of your breasts pressed against the glass was so fucking hot. He couldn’t believe you had agreed to this.

“Why don’t you try and tell me - what you were working on before I called? You know I always love to hear how good my girl’s being at work.”

You braced your left forearm against the glass window. “Oh? Uhhh supply chains…”

“What about ‘em? ‘M just a pilot, what do I know?”

God, he couldn't believe he was fucking the smartest, most capable girl in the world right now. Such a fucking pretty picture you painted.

“Working on a paper on ‘em. And how - how they need to be redesigned - ohhhh - to fo-cus on digitization - harder, bubs plea - ahhh.” You had to stop for a moment. “But supp-liers are worried about - oh, oh, oh dadd - please, plea -”

Bradley kept his rigorous pace, knowing he was getting close. Honestly, it didn’t take much; he was already way too keyed up. Meanwhile, you had been too preoccupied with stringing together a coherent sentence to continue playing with yourself. 

“- About suppliers not being up to the technological challenges of digitization,” you finally shouted in one breath. 

After that, you just kept babbling - about what Bradley wasn’t able to follow. But you still managed to sound smart and that was all he cared about.

“- Cloud networking -”

Thrust. Cry. Grunt. Clench.

“ - IOT -”

Thrust. Cry. Grunt. Keen.

“- Upskilling staff -”

Thrust. Cry. Grunt. Clench.

"- ESG factors - "

Thrust. Cry. Grunt. Keen.

Eventually, you just stopped talking and the only sounds coming from you were pitiful whimpers. 

"What's ESG?" You just shook your head. "Come on, what's it mean?" Bradley bottomed out inside you with a particularly deep thrust.

"Environmentalsocialandgovernance," you cried out in one breath.

"There's my good girl..." Eventually, you just stopped talking and the only sounds coming from you were pitiful whimpers. 

“You good, sweetheart?” You hummed. “Smart girl, good girl.” Bradley snaked his right hand down to your neglected clit and played with you until you cried out. “Ready to come for me?”

You whined and Bradley felt it - felt it all the way to his core. You practically vibrated with need, with want. “‘S too much, please I - I can’t.”

“Wanna come at the same time as you…” 

Bradley loved simultaneous orgasms - knowing he had taken care of you as well as you had taken care of him? There was nothing hotter.

“Just gotta tell me, sweetheart.” He sunk his teeth into your shoulder. “Cause all I wanna feel is your pussy milking my cock…”

By now - after almost two and a half years together - he knew instinctively when you were ready to cum and with one final, deep thrust, his orgasm crashed through him and he spent himself inside you, painting your pussy with his cum, hoping it would spur you along. 

“Oh, oh, oh, fuck - fuck -” You finally came with a cry that was definitely heard in reception. “You fill me so good, dadd - oh, Bradley.”

His cocked twitched one final time, the last streams of his cum filling you up. And he knew that when he pulled out of you, it would drip down your thighs. God, you were so perfect - everything he ever wanted. “I know, I know, such a good girl for me. Always such a good girl for me.”

Your body slumped against the glass window before Bradley pulled you against his chest, knowing you needed to be held close right now. 

The two of you just stood there for a moment, panting for so long that your breathing was finally in sync. He helped you turn around to face each other and you burrowed your face in his neck. You always needed to be close to him after sex and he was always there to take care of you. Whether it was telling you how good of a job you had done or petting your hair and cleaning you up - Bradley always wanted to take care of you. You were his girl, just like he was your Bradley. 

“So,” he said after a moment, “think you can sneak out a little early today?”

-------

a/n: well, that was fun? i guess? shout the fuck out to whoever this anon was that got me on this journey??

small taglist: @sunderlust @fivsecondsflat @notroosterbradshaw @seasonsbloom @cloudycluster @whisperofsong @howdysebby @softspiderling @roosterforme @rae-gar-targaryen

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley and smart aleck #bradley bradshaw #this man is a slut!!!! who else drives 30 mins in friday afternoon traffic to fuck their s/o in their office!!! #this was finished with the help of 4 glasses of champagne and listening to streets on repeat #so if it’s shit blame it on that #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader