#um. this is embarrassingly long. sorry

[unplanned-parenthood]

cw lots of mentions/discussion of suicide/death, etc (house md has ruined me. shows made to torture ME in particular)

been marinating this since i saw a poll abt it + a fic i read a couple days ago but re: what will house do once wilson is gone. after watching it play off i had like, no doubt the only possibility was for him to off himself...which does sound very awful but. i don't think it really is? not for house anyway.

the only reason he got off the bus was because of wilson (always thinking abt this. it doesn't hurt here. get off the bus house. but he hates me. you have to get off the bus) he has lived so long in pain, it feels more cruel to ask him to live without wilson. and while i get where the people who say wilson would try to talk him out of it are coming from (obviously wilson is wilson and he will always worry, so like, sooner or later he will start thinking about the after) it makes me wonder, what is on itself more selfish: asking him to continue living with pain, except he doesn't have one of the few things that made things easier—or asking him to die for him, like he has done before?

i would like to remain hopeful that maybe if house kept on living he would maybe get a prosthetic and try to continue doing what he loves with a fake id or something. still grieving, but for wilson now, not his leg. but at the same time that sounds like, a little too hopeful, and i don't think wilson has that kind of faith on house, faith that he would be able to go on without being even More Miserable. so maybe in his head he knows it's the right thing to say, to ask him to "continue living", but i don't think he would be able to actually do it, and neither would he straight up ask house to Die (he already did that, and i think twice might be too much for wilson's conscience, this time it would be 100% guaranteed that house would die) because it's selfish. right? and just how fucked up is it to ask someone to die for you (again, because it really wasn't about amber was it, house didn't do it because of amber, he did it for wilson.)

one of the traits you can stamp on wilson's forehead is that he is the opposite of selfish, you look up selfless and there's a picture of him next to the definition, but he also kinda sucks. he's selfish in the most unexpected of ways, so i think he would probably do nothing. not bring up the topic at all. just let time pass. leave it unsaid. because he's not asking house to die for him, but he's also not stopping him from doing so.

i think house would notice, because of course he would notice, it's a conversation he probably expected to have with wilson as soon as they checked in inside their first motel. a whole sermon and everything. but like! it did not happen, and it will never happen.

it's both selfish and selfless, which i think sums up their relationship a little too well. because it's easy to say it's all about house, but it's also about wilson, and how wilson likes feeling needed, likes enabling him. he surely must have noticed years ago how unhealthy being so codependent is but he didn't stop it, because he likes it! because he has fun with house! they don't know how to exist without the other anymore, so, isn't it only logical they die together? asking house to kill himself when he dies seems cruel, since he would technically be doing it because of wilson, but also—isn't it kinder, in a way, to finally let him stay on the bus?

#house md #house + wilson #greg house #james wilson #um. this is embarrassingly long. sorry #but i have really been thinking about it a lot. and maybe it's because i'm suicidal that i don't find house killing himself after #wilson dies to be depressing. because i dont think its supposed to be. i have weird thoughts about death and suicide in general but i do #think its...sweet. in a way. because house technically is dead. he technically already 'killed himself' for wilson. legally speaking #the only reason he got out of that building was bc of wilson. thats pretty obvious. what happens after isnt important! not really! #because he already both threw his life away for wilson and also kept going for wilson. its a constant in the show not exclusive to S8 #so like. while i do wish house could be happy. maybe try Living. i still think its unlikely. but that doesnt mean it has to be depressing #i dont think he would think it to be depressing. not really. i dont think he would do it immediately though i do agree w this fic #i have been reading that he would try to do his awful Last Goodbye Tour lmao. probably talk with thirteen #because although its not euthanasia it does feel an awful lot like it doesnt it. it /is/ like a mercy kill #but yeah if he told anyone it would be thirteen. just to let her know he's not going to be able to keep his promise to her #main tagging ONLY bc. i think this is a good thinkpiece. and i need more ppl to share my insanity with <3 #mine

[chryzuree]

anyway, i figured out why chrysi keeps it a secret that she also remembers her shared dreams with jacks in my dreamology au :) it’s because she moved on account of her mental health (delusions seeping into her day to day life, on account of the fact her shared dreams with jacks are getting unstable due to their physical distance, which… has complications) & when she saw dream boy in her new class, she jst went “hmmm. these hallucinations aren’t messing around anymore. guess i’ll have to ignore him.” meanwhile jacks is staring at her w scary blue eyes like HELLO?????????? HELLO??????????????????????

#chrysi doesn’t even know jacks is a real person until an EMBARRASSINGLY long amount of time has passed #lala’s like ohhhh yeah!! jacks!! castor’s best friend!! and shows chrysi a picture #chrysi’s like ‘HES REAL????‘ after ignoring him for that whole month. um. sorry jacks. #but she’s committed to this now so she’s not going to tell him she remembers their shared dreams… #memorie.txt #au.dreamology #s.chrysijacks #jacks’s dreams also start infecting the real world anyway so both him and chrysi are going to have to come to terms w their situation #REAL quick. but oh well!!

[ch3wt0yz]

You seem like such a sweet little puppy! I'll bet you'd do anything for a treat.

You'd listen so obediently as you're ordered to hump your pillow like a good pup.

You'd whine and beg so sweetly until your wet little puppyhole is finally stuffed full.

thank you! all i wanna do is to be a good boy 🥰

if my master ordered me to grind on my pillow til i’m soaked and panting, of course i’ll obey!

after all, i’m so cute when i’m desperate, i’m trying so hard to be good, but i’m dripping and needy and my hole is twitching, aching to be used… please, please fill up my slutty puppycunt?

#gayasks.txt #ftm nsft #ftm ns/fw #ftm puppy #idk how long this ask has been here im sorry #but um wow this made me embarrassingly wet 😳

[loveinhawkins]

When Lucas Sinclair starts to apologise for missing The Cult of Vecna, Eddie initially thinks that he’s hearing things.

Well, actually, the first thing he thinks is something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’

It takes him almost a solid thirty seconds to even vaguely remember his campaign; the last day of school before Spring Break feels dreamlike, as if it happened to someone else, as if he just watched everything through a fogged-up window.

“Jesus, Sinclair. I’ve got an ongoing list of folks who owe me an apology since, like, sixth grade, and trust me, your name’s not on there. Can pretty confidently say it never will, okay?”

Eddie sees Steve tilt his head ever so slightly from where he’s walking just ahead of them, like he’s listening in. Spots his faint nod of approval.

Eddie can’t decide if he resents it or finds it endearing—kind of gets the ridiculous feeling that Steve’s vetting him on behalf of the kids.

“Okay,” Lucas says, and he’s smiling, but there’s a sort of sombreness to it, too. “Still, I should’ve—”

“Hey, hindsight’s twenty-twenty,” Eddie says, firmly cutting off whatever self-critical bullshit he was about to hear. He knocks his shoulder against Lucas’s, adds a dry, “Like, I would’ve been a dick about it no matter what.”

Lucas laughs, but it’s muted. Then he takes a deep breath, and Eddie suddenly realises that he must’ve been using the apology to get himself started, to work himself up to what he really wanted to say.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about Jason and… I thought I’d thrown them all off the trail, but—”

“Oh, don’t—don’t worry about it, man,” Eddie says faintly.

There’s a flash of Jason in his mind’s eye, the savage twist of his lip as he ran into the lake; he thinks of Lucas lying to his face, the danger of him being found out, and feels sick.

“Seriously, you could’ve told them… y’know. Wouldn’t have held it against you.”

Eddie doesn’t mention that him getting caught still feels inevitable, like he’s just waiting for the walls to close in.

But right now, at least, he can breathe a little easier. The shire might be burning, but there’s people leading him through it. He’s not alone.

Lucas looks appalled. “What? No, I couldn’t—I couldn’t do that to you.”

It’s said with such conviction that Eddie has to fight through a sudden tightness in his throat—doesn’t really know what to do in the face of such undeserved loyalty.

He settles on saying, “So, how was the game?” which is embarrassingly inadequate, but a genuine question nevertheless; the past few… Jesus, however long it’s been, he’s been in permanent need of a distraction.

Steve slows his walking pace—to anyone else it might’ve seemed subtle, but Eddie’s used to noticing such things. He somehow gets the feeling that Steve is no longer scrutinising him, not exactly; his posture’s relaxed and open, his forehead free of frown lines.

It’s more like he’s simply curious about Eddie’s behaviour. The way his eyes drift over, then down to the forest floor, then back again silently seems to say what are you thinking?

Or maybe Eddie’s projecting because he asks the very same question whenever a muscle jumps in Steve’s jaw.

“Oh, um…” Lucas says hesitantly. “I was on the bench for most of it, so—”

“Quit being modest.” The quiet whir of a tape being rewound; Max Mayfield comes up to Lucas’s side. “He made the winning shot,” she tells Eddie pointedly. “It was a buzzer-beater.”

“Oh, holy shit. Well done, dude.”

From the way Lucas is staring at Max with wide eyes, it’s obvious that he’s barely registered what Eddie’s said.

“How do you know that?” he asks. “You… you weren’t at the game.”

“I, uh.” Max looks down for a moment, fiddling with the headphones around her neck. “I listened to it on the radio.”

Lucas smiles so brightly. There’s an earnestness to him; Eddie spotted it a mile away, ever since that first day back at school, when all the new freshmen were anxiously lining up to get lunch.

Max softens—her arms are still folded, but she drifts a little closer to Lucas as they walk, all studied casualness.

(Oh, Eddie’s been there before: forced to run track in middle school Phys Ed, and the only saving grace was ‘just so happening’ to run at the same pace as any boy who’d smile at him.)

Eddie catches Steve’s eye, and this time Steve gives him a very deliberate expression, nodding fondly at Max and Lucas.

Look at them, he’s saying with his eyes, as if he and Eddie are on the same team, as if Eddie at all deserves to be let in on whatever shared history Steve has with these kids.

Eddie kicks at a stray twig. You’re not going to get a lump in your throat about this, damn it, don’t be stupid.

“S’gonna be historic, Sinclair,” he says. “Last time the Tigers won a championship was, uh, lemme think… twenty-two years ago.”

Lucas stops in his tracks.

“I know that,” he says, eyes shrewd, “but why do you know?”

Eddie raises his hands with a grin, it wasn’t me, officer. “What, I can’t repeat a few years without retaining a little school knowledge?”

“Oh,” Lucas says, and it’s like Eddie can see him mentally replaying every cafeteria speech. He grins back. “So you’re a hypocrite.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says. He glances further afield, where Dustin is animatedly explaining something to Robin and Nancy. “I know you’re not gonna give me shit for it, though.”

“Huh, guess you don’t really know me,” Lucas says, and Max snorts.

Eddie smirks. “And it’s, like, doubly historic since the last person to score a buzzer-beater was—”

He cuts himself off, because Steve abruptly turns to him, like they’re in alliance, and draws a hand sharply across his neck.

But Lucas is already hooked. “What? Who was it?”

Eddie gives Steve a helpless shrug. Sorry, man.

“I’m looking right at him,” he says.

Lucas rounds on Steve. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because,” Steve says, flustered, “that was your thing, Lucas, I didn’t wanna be all…”

He trails off with a vague hand gesture, and Eddie thinks he somehow gets what he means—smiles at the thoughtfulness of it.

“That makes, like, no sense,” Lucas says vehemently. His eyes practically have stars in them. “Damn it, we shoulda got a photo.”

Steve laughs in surprise. “All right, noted.”

“I mean, Wheeler works for the school paper, right?” Eddie says. “They’ve probably got old issues. Hey, Sinclair, you could have, y’know, side-by-side photos. Yours and then…” He waves a hand at Steve. “Ancient history.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Ancient, sure.”

“Oh, Lucas,” Max says, batting her eyes excessively, “I’d frame a picture of you. Pray to it every night.”

Lucas blushes. “Shut up,” he says, elbowing her gently; Eddie thinks that it’s the first time he’s heard Max Mayfield laugh.

Steve’s watching over them again, and his eyes go pensive when Lucas mumbles something like, “I wouldn’t mind a frame.”

The expression Steve has is something Eddie’s only seen once before, and it was on Wayne’s face. Eddie had privately dubbed it the ‘found something for your birthday’ look when he’d noticed it: him and Wayne on a road trip, Eddie not so secretly mooning over the secondhand acoustic guitar in the shop window.

“Your picture should be bigger, Sinclair,” Steve says, sounding both teasing and sincere. “My shot didn’t win a Championship Game.” In an undertone, he adds, “As Brenda so helpfully reminded me.”

Oh, Eddie’s not letting that go.

“Do mine ears deceive me? Did you take a date to a high school basketball game?” Eddie cackles. “You sure know how to woo ‘em, Harrington.”

“Hey,” Steve says defensively, “she could only make that day. Told her I had non-negotiable plans: it was either the game or it was a bust.”

Huh, Eddie thinks, that’s actually… really sweet.

Lucas looks torn between being embarrassed or touched. “You didn’t need to do that, Steve.”

“Sure I did. C’mon, you thought I was gonna go to every match and then miss the Championship?” Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Where was Erica, anyway?”

… Ah.

“Mea culpa,” Eddie says. “She was, uh, at Hellfire.”

Lucas scoffs. “It’s fine,” he says. “Last time she was at a game, she kept shouting that she loved my tactics.” He looks out into the middle distance. “I was on the bench the whole time.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah, I missed her being there.” He’s sporting a smile that’s somehow the perfect balance of fond and mischievous; it, quite frankly, has no business looking as attractive as it does. “We had, um, alternative commentary for every game. That kid should have a radio show.” He comes closer, adds in another aside, “Would’ve made the date more bearable if she was there.”

Eddie stifles a laugh, has a moment of respectful silence for Brenda.

Max and Lucas cut in front, keep walking until they’re almost out of earshot; Eddie hears Lucas faintly say something that sounds like, “Was I totally tubular?”, soon drowned out by Max’s laughter.

There’s a short silence.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says suddenly.

Eddie blinks at him, quickly turns his genuine confusion into a bit. “What for, Harrington? My devastating wit? Devilish good looks?”

Steve shakes his head. He smiles for a moment, in on the joke, but then he looks over at Lucas and Max again, and… there.

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“It’s just… they’ve got a lot to carry, y’know? So…” He shrugs. “Thanks.”

It’s said so quietly, so without fanfare.

Eddie’s hit with the realisation between one footstep and the next: that he’s earned Steve Harrington’s trust.

It feels… weighty.

But Eddie doesn’t mind it; he doesn’t think it’s going to crush his ribs. If anything it feels like they’re sharing a load.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, Harrington.”

Steve smiles, pushing back his hair; Eddie’s brought back to the moment he did the very same on the basketball court, just as the ball sunk through the net, and Eddie decided fuck it, wholeheartedly embracing his hypocrisy as he jumped up and down with the band kids.

I cheered so goddamn loud for you, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t say it.

But he keeps walking next to Steve. Feels a little young, a little bit like he’s running track—checking his pace just so he could see a boy smile at him.

#skull rock to lover’s lake missing scenes are becoming my new fave (of which i have many faves ❤️) #eddie and lucas #pre steddie #steve and lucas #steve and max #eddie and max #lumax #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #lucas and erica #steve and erica #eddie munson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #steve harrington #steve x eddie #lucas x max

[cosmiiwrites]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ lovebirds

·:¨༺ clingy!sinner! adam x clingy!sinner!fem!reader ༻¨:·

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ req/summary: PLS clingy!sinner!adam and clingy!fem!sinner!reader where Adam reincarnated in Hell and went to the Hotel for help and ended up falling in love with Reader and they just CAN’T STAY AWAY FROM EACH OTHER. Like, a concerning amount of PDA. Completely smitten, love-braindead, absolute lovebirds 😩. To the point where the other guests can’t stand them. If you don’t want to it’s okay! love your content 🥹 cw: fem!reader, cussing, fluff, partially suggestive a/n: accidently posted this in the middle of writing so i had to restart :') sorry this is also kind of late 😞 @callmerainman ty for the request <33 adam was fuming, he'd spawned in the place he swore he hated! he was stuck with all the filthy demons and sinners whom he'd used to slaughter. now he was one of them. disgusting, he thought. adam was left with one choice: the hazbin hotel. "fucking damn it." when he appeared outside the hotel’s doors, everyone (mostly vaggie) was urging charlie to turn him away. however, charlie being charlie, gave him a chance. why wouldnt she? this hotel was all about second chances!

adam definitely flipped vaggie off behind charlie’s back

at first, adam thought the hotel was boring; they had strict rules, most of which applied to him.

that is, until he set eyes on you. suddenly, he found himself actually wanting to participate in charlie’s “stupid therapy group shit” as adam would call it, because it meant that he’d be near you.

luckily for adam, you felt the same way. it wasn’t long before the both of you started dating.

and, oh boy, did you two make it clear.

you and adam were on each other 25/8, doesnt matter where or when.

wherever you were, adam was never far behind. (yes, that includes the bathroom. what did you expect?)

adam once tried convincing charlie to let you two just share a room, but she had to reject the idea. in the nicest way possible, of course.

“listen, adam, i LOVE how you and (name) are so close! but, um, i’d prefer if you two stayed in your separate rooms. everyone knows how… passionate you are together.”

poor charlie.

husk has had to kick you two out of the bar from time to time, after catching you with adam’s tongue down your throat in front of him. even angel dust, whose whole personality is being horny, gets grossed out by the both of you sometimes.

not to mention the PDA. adam had his hands on you. all. the. time. most of the time, he’d have his hand snaked around your waist while walking. or when sitting down, adam would have you on his lap.

if he feels like someone is talking to you for too long, he’d start making out with you on the spot to get them to walk away, partially traumatized.

you and adam are also embarrassingly cheesy. this includes nicknames.

charlie’s tried to sit you both down to talk about your behavior, but it was awkward when adam had you sat down on his lap, rubbing teasing circles on your thigh. she’d tried talking but her words were cut off by the sounds of your giggles. with a sigh, she gave up and let you two be.

———————————————————————

“i love you more!” you giggled, sitting on adam’s lap as you playfully pinched his cheek.

“no, i love YOU more,”

“nuh uh, i love—“

“OH MY FUCKING GOD. SHUT THE FUCK UP,” yeah, vaggie’s so done with you guys.

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel #adam hazbin #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel alastor #charlie morningstar #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel fluff #angel dust #sir pentious #vaggie

[bratzforchris]

you should do johnnie x fem!reader but she has a christina piercing

Call Me

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

Summary: A post-breakup piercing turns into something much more

Pairing: Body piercer!Johnnie x feminine reader

Warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, fingering (f), genital piercing

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Thank you for the request! I didn't write a ton of super in-depth smut because of legality (even though this is au and a fanfic, i try to keep it semi appropriate <3), but if you'd like a part 2, send it in my inbox!!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

You had never been a wild girl. Down to have fun? Sure. But never wild. All of that changed today, though, as you walked into your local tattoo and piercing parlor. Having recently gone through a rather messy breakup, you decided the best way to find yourself again was to reclaim your own body. A tattoo had seemed a bit too permanent, whereas ear and nose piercings had seemed too basic. After a bit of research, you had decided on a Christina piercing. Was it a bit out there? Definitely. Then again, no one had to know about it except you and your sexual partners down the line. 

You signed your name in at the front desk, feeling so thankful you didn’t have to put down what kind of piercing you wanted. As excited as you were, that would be too embarrassing for you. You waited, anxiously tapping your leg until a man came from the back and called your name. 

“Y/N?” 

You stood up, meeting him at the door to the back in quick strides. “I’m right here.”

“I’m Johnnie. I’ll be your piercer today. Come on back.” the man nodded, leading you into the studio. 

Whatever you had done to piss off the universe, you regretted it. Not only were you about to have a man pierce your clit, he was hot too. He had the classic emo style that you hadn’t seen anyone in real life wear since like 2008, and tattoos and piercings littered his own skin. You couldn’t help but to stare at his spider bites, wondering what it would feel like to kiss and tug on them. 

“My eyes are up here.” Johnnie joked, leading you into a private room and closing the door. 

‘Fuck, Y/N. Get it together.’ You thought, forcing your eyes to roam up Johnnie’s face to meet his own. That was a mistake, though, because your piercer had the iciest, most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen, rimmed with dark eyeliner that only added to his good looks and complemented his long, black hair. 

“Sorry, I’m a little anxious.” You mumbled, cheeks burning. 

“I understand,” Johnnie smiled kindly. “So, what piercing were you looking to get today?”

“I, um…” You started, but the words got lost in your throat. 

“Let me guess. Nips?” he chuckled. 

You shook your head, embarrassingly flustered and Johnnie’s eyes widened with realization. 

“I see. Well, a Christina is an anatomy based piercing, so I’ll have to assess before I pierce. Is that okay?” he asked, keeping a cool, professional tone. 

You nodded, your cheeks so beyond red both from the conversation and because of how hot Johnnie was. You honestly wished that this was another setting, because you knew he had to remain professional, no matter how badly he or you wanted it. Johnnie politely turned his back while you shimmied out of your pants, knowing there was no going back now. An unfamiliar man was about to see your whole pussy in bright, LED lights and you honestly wished you were more uncomfortable with it. 

Once he had gotten confirmation from you, Johnnie turned around, pulling some black, latex gloves onto his hands. “I’m going to touch you now, okay?”

He moved to spread your legs, slowly caressing your inner thighs gently. As Johnnie moved towards your slit, you prayed he wouldn’t notice the dampness that had pooled between your thighs. His gracefully artistic fingers neared your clit and you couldn’t help but to let out a tiny moan at how great it felt. You hadn’t gotten laid in over a month, and you were desperate for an orgasm that wasn’t the product of your hand or battery operated ‘friends’. If Johnnie noticed, he was too polite to say anything. He plucked a flashlight from the medical cart beside him and examined you a bit more. You couldn’t help but to notice the way his fingers lingered on your clit for a moment longer than they should have as you let out another moan. 

“You like that?” he chuckled, seeming to be joking. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to do it, but you nodded softly, whispering out a “yes.”

Johnnie hummed, coming around the side of the table and whispering in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. “Tell me, Y/N, are you single? Does your boyfriend know you’re trying to get off on my fingers?”

You blushed, trying to arch into his touch. “I’m single.” You grunted out against the arousal. 

“Thought so,” he smirked. “Better for me.”

Johnnie turned his back to you as he prepped the needle and jewelry, almost in a teasing way. You heard the plastic opening and couldn’t help but to think about the way that would be the sound of Johnnie opening a condom, prepping himself to go inside you. God, you needed to get it together. 

“Are you ready?” he asked you, spreading your legs as he held the needle. 

You nodded, eager to see how Johnnie would do this and how it would look. “I am.”

“Deep breath. 1, 2, 3,” Johnnie inserted the needle, quickly and expertly giving you the Christina piercing you had been looking forward to. “Good girl,” he was practically moaning himself. He quickly cleaned you up, caressing your pussy gently and with loving care. “Took that like a fuckin’ champ.”

You blushed at his praise, your clit throbbing both from the pain and from the arousal. “Thank you.”

Johnnie walked you out of the room and to the front counter for you to pay. You were rather disappointed when he disappeared into the back again as you handed the cash for your piercing to the girl working the front desk. Just as you were about to leave, though, Johnnie opened the door and slid a card across the counter to you. 

“Aftercare instructions.” he winked. 

You flipped the card over as you walked out of the building, only to see a phone number scribbled in messy, black ink on the back with a ‘;)’ and a heart. Somehow, you’d gone in for a piercing, and come out with both a piercing and the desire for a fuck buddy. 

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert fanfiction #johnnie and jake #fanfic #jake webber fluff #jake webber fanfic #jake webber fanfiction #jake webber #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert fluff #the tinas #tara yummy #jake webber smut #johnnie guilbert edit #fanfiction #body piercing #body piercer au #tattoo artist au #jake webber x reader #johnnie guilbert x you

[mapofthesea]

producers!yoonmin x assistant!reader, fem!reader, bi!yoonmin

genre: smut with some plot, slight fluff

summary: There’s no telling just how long you'd been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain

warnings: swearing, slight arguing/playful name calling, mentions of alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, dom!yoonmin x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don’t do it), they're kind of in a situationship, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), masturbation, hair pulling, degradation, praise, spanking, choking, penetrative sex, some mxm, cum eating, big dick behavior and practice from both of them, hinting at feelings

a/n: this is mature content so if you are under 18 years old or uncomfortable with this, please do not go below the cut! I also do not proofread of edit my work so there may be some typos, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

When you’d first been hired, the request came through your temp agency, and you knew nothing other than the address before you showed up. By then you were no stranger to the life of an assistant; you had fallen into the line of work after failing to find a job in your field. The first few temp jobs were exactly what you expected. Fielding phone calls and delivering coffee to big wigs in uncomfortable, cheap dress clothes became your new normal for several months, so when you arrived at the gray office building you figured you knew what you were in for. 

Yoongi and Jimin proved to be nothing like your previous employers, and their charmingly personable attitudes made them unbelievably easy to work for. At the end of your week as their temp, you had pouted and delayed your departure by attempting to tidy up their shared studio. 

“You’re not a maid, you don’t have to do that.” Yoongi cooly remarked. Even with his ears sticking out endearingly from the sides of his beanie, his dark gaze made you freeze. 

“I-I know, I just- sorry.” You withered under his attention, shifting from foot to foot as you waited for the anxiety to pass. “I’ll go. Bye Yoongi, it’s been super nice working for you guys.” 

You kicked yourself as the wave of disappointment saturated your words. Yoongi hadn’t done anything wrong, and there was no reason to unload your sadness on him. 

“What? I thought they told you?” Yoongi chirped. “We hired you. I expect you to be back tomorrow.” An unbidden smile cracked your face and you couldn't help but notice Yoongi had mirrored it. 

“Oh, oh! Um, see you tomorrow then.” Your heart thumped embarrassingly fast as you skittered out of the office, only seeing the email full of praise from them once you were tucked into the comfort of your bed.

---

“Remember when you used to be nice to me?” You hiss at the man who had just fully sat on your shins, uncaring that you squirm under him. Jimin rolls his eyes at your remark and stays where he is until you snake your legs out from under him. 

“I am nice to you. I pay you.” Jimin coos and pulls your legs into his lap, his familiar touch skittering over your bare calves. After being their one and only assistant for a year and half, your working hours have become more muddled. Business often mixed with friendship, and the lines of professionalism had officially blurred to a proportion you never expected. 

“We also buy you food,” Yoongi cooly adds, plopping himself in the chair across from the two of you and sweeping his hand toward the boxes of empty takeout that dotted the coffee table. A microphone and mixing board live among the mess. You sigh listlessly. They had been working on this new song for hours, tossing ideas back and forth, and although they all sounded wonderful to you, neither of them were happy with anything. 

“Can I go home?” You drawl, feeling the strain of laying on the couch in the way your neck cricks and radiates a sharp headache. You subconsciously rub your fingers into the tightness at the base of your neck. 

“No,” Jimin answers immediately. You sit up straight on the couch and rip your legs from his lap. 

“Why?” It comes out whiny but you’re too tired to care, still rubbing at the knot in your neck. “Yoongi?” For a second you have hope he’ll let you go but he shakes his head, dark wavy strands slipping over his eyes. 

“Sorry, need you here.”

You sputter, disbelief making your eyes go wide. “Okay...can I at least go get you some coffee? More food? Or something?” Sitting in the darkened studio for so long with no definable task was making you feel a bit stir crazy. You had cycled through all of the games on your phone and been scolded for spending too much time on TikTok. Even the book you kept stashed in the bottom of your tote bag was only able to occupy you for so long. 

Yoongi shrugs, half of a grin on his lips. “Dunno. You have an untrained ear, slightly less bias, maybe you’ll add something to the process...” he trails, sinfully pink tongue slipping out between his lips. “You’ve also got potential as a muse.” 

God. It’s painfully cliche but it makes your heart stop and your thighs clench. Suddenly you feel too hot in your shorts and sweatshirt. Jimin tuts. 

“Potential.” He makes a half hearted jab, knowing all three of you are lingering on the same string of memories from just a couple of weeks before. You push the thoughts away and find a spot back on the couch, suddenly conscious of how close you sit to Jimin on the small couch.

He shuffles just close enough that your knees touch in a reassuring way that sends cascading warmth down your spine. Your face is surely flushed but you do your best to pretend you’re unfazed, picking at the skin around your cuticles as Yoongi fiddles with the soundboard.

“Again.” Jimin’s foot taps into the plush carpet in time to the music, and you know you’re in for a long night.

The track runs on a seemingly unending loop, only punctuated by your bosses bickering about technical intricacies and which word choices would serve the song better.

Yoongi fiddles with a new beat and you whine, sagging into Jimin’s side. He welcomes you into him and the intoxicating scent of his cologne has your eyes fluttering. His jaw ticks and you have to bite back the groan of desire as you watch his muscles clench and unclench as he concentrates, fingertips tapping the new rhythm in time against the top of your thigh.

For a moment you wish you were drinking; dumbly wanting to feign needing help opening the soju bottle just to hear Jimin’s little coos of how delicate you are, to have Yoongi gently take back your hair to see your flushed face when he thinks you’ve had too much to drink. Your saliva suddenly feels too thick and your head spins with the barrage of lustful thought. Jimin’s hand feels as hot as lava on your thigh and the sight of Yoongi’s finger circling one of the little knobs with deft precision makes your stomach tumble. 

“I-are you guys hot?” Your voice is raspy as you spring up from the couch, resisting the urge to fan yourself with your hands. Embarrassingly, they both shake their heads and you catch sight of the thermostat set clearly to cool. Yoongi chuckles as he seems to look inside of your head at the neurons connecting as a flush of embarrassment crosses your face. 

“I’ll be right back,” the words are barely out before you leave the room, slipping into the hallway and all but sprinting to the bathroom. Your body feels both too hot and too cold at the same time, and under the harsh overhead light of the bathroom the dark circles under your eyes are prominent, your baby hairs sticking up in wild directions from your scalp. You bend over the sink, gripping onto the cold porcelain. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your words echo into the bowl of the sink but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about the potential of either of them hearing you over their music. You stand, glaring at the image of yourself in the mirror for a few seconds before you decide you have probably been hiding in here for a suspicious amount of time. Determined to find a way for them to let you go home, you barrel out of the bathroom and back into the hallway. 

“Hi,” Yoongi’s voice startles you, and his presence in the cramped space is even more alarming. In all the time you've known him, he's never been one to completely abandon his post while in the thick of the production process. 

“...Hi? Are you guys done?” A kernel of hope lights in your chest. If they’re done, you can make your escape to home and deal with the heavy pull of arousal in you core by yourself. Yoongi shakes his head no and raises his hands above him, stretching his arms and allowing your eyes to feast on a strip of creamy skin above his waistband. Your face reheats, tongue darting out to lick your chapped lips. He looks divine. 

Yoongi’s eyes follow your own, and a beautiful little smirk sprouts on his face. “Just came to use the bathroom.” His voice rumbles the same way it did when he dropped you off at your doorstep a few weeks ago with a sinful kiss and your knees quiver.

You nod stupidly, tripping over your own feet as you side step the door to allow him passage. He dips his head in a subtle nod and as he approaches and you can smell the musk of his cologne. Despite the step you took away he makes an effort to brush by you, one of his strong hands clasping gently around your own. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until he leaned in close enough that you could pick out his individual eyelashes. His thumb presses into the back of your hand, a firm reminder of the reality of the situation as his words slip into the air between you. 

“We’re both willing to take a break, if you could think of something else more...interesting to occupy us.” His canines sparkle in the light of the hall and you have the overcoming desire to feel them scrape against your neck. 

“B-both of you?” The question all but jumps from your mouth, a product of your disbelief of the last night they had made you feel this way, which you were still partly convinced was just a delusion of your drunkenness. Yoongi nods, strands of hair obscuring his heavy stare. 

“Yes.” He’s gone in a flash, the bathroom door shutting behind him. The thud reverberates through your body and you stand stunned in the hallway, body buzzing with anticipation. Jimin is waiting just beyond the wall, and the image of his legs spread wide on the couch just waiting for you and Yoongi to return springs into your mind. Desire drives your feet and before you know it you’re back in the dimly lit studio, palms sweating when you finally see him again. 

“You’re back.” His voice is cool and level, gaze fixed on you as you approached him. Suddenly emblazoned by the knowledge Yoongi had given you, you nod and edge closer to the couch. 

“Heard you’re looking to take a break?” Jimin’s eyes cloud with the realization of your words, seeing through the facade of your question easily. He swipes his plush bottom lip with his thumb and hums in affirmation. “If you’re willing to provide one?” His voice is thick with lust, sending butterflies through your stomach.

The subtle tilt of his head is all it takes for you to advance toward him, plopping yourself easily onto his thigh, facing the mess of the coffee table. His hands are immediately on your hips; fingers digging into the flesh with an addicting pinch of pain. Your hips rut at the contact, pushing into the muscle of his leg. The pressure sends a spike of arousal down your spine that makes you moan and Jimin responds by curling his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. His fingertips feel like ice against your hot skin, and he uses the shock to gain control of your hips. 

There’s no use putting up a fight once he has you, manually rocking your core against his leg. Even though you can’t see him, you can hear his little pants of appreciation as your head rolls back against your shoulders. The fabric of your underwear is slick and pulling right against your clit, the layers of friction making you feel like you’re going crazy. Your nails dig into Jimin’s arms, enjoying the feeling of his muscles moving. 

The door swings open and even though you know it’s Yoongi you gasp, whipping your head toward him. Your face flushes at being caught but Yoongi simply appraises you, eyes roving over your heaving chest and Jimin’s grip on your hips. The weight of Yoongi’s stare only makes you wetter, slicking the crotch of your cotton shorts a darker shade. Jimin chuckles and moves faster, allowing a consistent grind of pressure against your clit that makes tears edge your eyelids. 

You gasp, arms flailing outward hopelessly. In your scramble your arms clash into Yoongi’s form, scrabbling to hook into the fabric of his hoodie as your clit throbs and your climax approaches. Yoongi’s hands encircle your face, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and stooping down until you can feel his breath against your cheeks. 

“Pretty girl,” he flutters his thumb against your lashes until you open your eyes. “There you are.” His feline gaze turns your brain to liquid, enjoying the attention from Yoongi while Jimin gives you the release you’ve been waiting for. 

“P-please,” you struggle around the words, and don't have the energy to articulate your needs, but Jimin holds your hips still and bounces his leg, baring your pussy down against him directly. Unable to squirm away from the pleasure, a moan rips from your throat into Yoongi’s chest as you come, pitching forward as the pleasure curls your toes. Despite your exhaustion you continue to cant your hips against Jimin’s leg after you come until Yoongi tuts and pulls you up slightly, depriving you of the surface. 

“Look at the fucking mess you made of my pants, baby.” Jimin growls. Your face flushes in embarrassment but you can’t deny that the sight only turns you on more. Knowing that you were the one responsible for the mess on his sweatpants and the subsequent bulge makes your mouth water. On unstable legs you pull from Yoongi’s embrace and lean down over Jimin, giving your other boss a prime view of your ass in the ridden-up shorts doing little to preserve your modesty. His hands are on you immediately, tugging down the fabric of your shorts and panties as soon as you nod your approval. 

“Can I kiss you?” You relish the way Jimin’s cheeks sport a pretty blush at your question as he nods. A warm fuzzy feeling spreads through your chest as you connect your lips with his own, gently coaxing out the demon of a man you know lives inside- the one who pushed his cock down your throat in the backseat of his car the last time you went out together.  Yoongi’s deft fingers part your folds and you moan into the kiss which only spurs Jimin on. His tongue finds a home in the depths of your mouth at the same time that Yoongi spreads your asscheeks with his hands, humming at the sight of your bared pussy. He pauses all movements, making you twirl your hips impatiently, before releasing a glob of spit that runs hot over your pussy. You shiver, keening at the embarrassingly attractive action. He wastes no time running his fingers between your lips, circling your clit with your combined wetness until your knees go weak. Jimin bites your lip and disconnects the two of you, staring sinfully at the trail of saliva that connects you. 

“Yoongi gonna make you cum again?” The question is rhetoric, but you still nod furiously at the idea. Yoongi laughs heartily, clearly amused by the desperation. 

“Gonna do more than make you cum, baby.” Your head swivels back to catch a look at him sinking onto his knees, easily pushing the coffee table back so he has ample room to work. Your pussy flutters at the idea of him eating you out, a dream that had been plaguing you since you first heard him craft some of his most infamous lyrics. 

You're so enamored at the glassy look in his eyes that you almost miss Jimin asking to shed your sweatshirt. The fabric comes off easily, goosebumps arriving as the garment leaves you. Jimin groans as he’s presented with your tits, hanging perfectly in front of his face as you're bent over for Yoongi. 

Jimin captures one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging at the nub like a man starved. Yoongi dives into your pussy, licking a broad stripe all the way through your folds. His tongue splits your lips and explores every possible inch. 

“Oh god,” the sensation of them both working on you makes you feel lightheaded, in total disbelief of the way the night has gone. “F-feel so good.” You mewl as Yoongi licks tight circles around your clit, Jimin’s teeth scraping against the sensitive skin at the curve of your breast as his hand engulfs the other, pulling and pinching in all the right places. 

“I- can’t fucking, oh my god-” no words seem to do justice to the feeling of pure arousal slipping through you, and the lewd sounds of being devoured sends your mind into a perfectly numb lull. Jimin and Yoongi are everything, everywhere, moving in a sinful tandem of lips and teeth that you don’t think you will ever recover from. The bubbling heat in your stomach rises, aided by the slurps of Yoongi absolutely devouring you, his nose digging into you as he pushes his tongue as deep as possible into your hole. You can only imagine how wet his face will be when he pulls away; chin, cheeks and lips stained with the evidence of your arousal. 

Your legs wobble, knees shaking from the effort of keeping your body upright as your orgasm barrels toward you. Jimin scrapes the top row of his teeth across your nipple as you come, body trapped between two sources of unending pleasure. The short break between orgasms has made you dizzy, keening as Yoongi devours every drop you give him. Over sensitivity rushes in, and the men work faster than your blissed out brain can comprehend.

Once the ringing in your head stops, you can feel the delicate press of Yoongi’s lips against the backs of your thighs: Jimin’s cool fingertips soothing down the bites he created on your chest.

“Come on, pretty. Such a good girl. Come lay down.” Jimin’s hands pull you gently, easily back onto the couch where you had spent countless hours before. The cool leather feels amazing against your heated skin and you quickly resign yourself to pressing the entire front of your body into it, head propped on Jimin’s thigh. This close, there was no mistaking the heavy bulge in the front of his pants. Your fingers twitch, inching toward him.

Yoongi’s dark chuckle makes you pause, peering up to see him standing over you, a satisfied smirk on his face. Just as you’d imagined his chin is covered in a gleam that could only come from being buried deep in your pussy. Your hips twitch against the couch.

“You wanna suck Jimin’s cock? Will you let me sit and watch you make him come?” You nod dumbly against Jimin’s leg, not daring to take your eyes off of Yoongi as he maneuvers himself back into his trusty chair. He sits and makes no secret of palming at himself through his shorts as your mouth waters.

“Please?” You ask, as if they would ever be able to deny you anything. You can feel the sweat drying onto your body, and the heat reigniting in your stomach makes you restless. Wiggling your fingers playfully toward his cock, you fix Jimin with your best pleading stare.

“You know this cock belongs to you, baby. Take it.” Heat flushes your cheeks as you scramble for his waistband. Suddenly seized with an insatiable hunger to have your mouth filled to the brim. Jimin lifts his hips in aid, exposing inches of flawless skin before his cock springs to life, unbidden by any clothing. He takes the break to pull off his top, balling it up and throwing it directly into Yoongi’s face. The older man grumbles in good nature and swats the shirt away. Your hips push against the couch cushion as you reach for him, the weight and warmth of his impressive cock making your head spin. Jimin moans at your touch, encouraging you to pump your hand over him slowly.

He intakes a ragged breath as you speed up, impatient with yourself. “C’mon baby, take it.” He grinds out the words and you shiver, shuffling forward until you can comfortably lower your head over him, wrapping your lips around the tip. It had been only a few weeks since the last time you gave him head, but that didn’t make his length any easier to adjust to. Your eyes water at the intrusion as you push further down, wiggling your tongue against the underside. Jimin’s thighs twitch under your ministrations.

“You’re so fucking good at that, Y/N.”

Emboldened, you push more of him down your throat until you’re fighting against a gag, spit dripping down to the base of his cock. Unable to go further, your hand occupies the rest, pumping in time with the movement of your head. The mess of praise and the burn of Yoongi’s eyes on your body makes you moan around him.

Jimin’s hips immediately jump, pushing further into your mouth. Your eyes widen and tears push forward as Jimin takes full advantage of your mouth, your nails scrabbling at his thighs as you try to clear your mind.

“Shhh, baby. Look so pretty drooling and dumb on my cock. Our girl is so good, isn’t she Yoongi?” Jimin’s voice shakes, a giveaway of his impending orgasm.

“The best girl,” Yoongi’s voice is clipped, and even though your eyes are blurred with tears you’re sure he’s working his hand over his own cock. You moan again, using the vibration to your advantage as Jimin grips your hair, holding you in place.

Your lungs constrict as his whines reach a peak, cock twitching incessantly until he’s coming. You swallow with every spurt he gives you, the bitterness easy to dismiss in the heat of the moment. Jimin’s grip loosens just as the last ropes of his cum shoot out, streaking across your chin and lips. He grins, satisfied at the mess and your performance. His now free hand takes a handful of your ass, pinching it and landing a slap against the flesh.

“Open?” He asks almost sheepishly. You obey easily, putty in his hands as he inspects your mouth to be sure you swallowed everything he gave you. He hums happily at the sight, gathering up the stray bits of cum on your face with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth. You suck the pad of his thumb clean, eyes heavy with lust as you swirl your tongue around it. Jimin growls, ripping the appendage out to slap your ass a few times in quick succession.

The pain makes your spine curve with pleasure and you almost can’t believe how wet you are again, but Jimin’s fingers quickly dip into your pussy, cooing when he feels your slick coating his fingers. Your own mouth parts in a frustrated groan, annoyingly aware of how achingly empty you are.

“Please fuck me.” Your voice is raw and shaky, and you worry that maybe their inaction means they couldn’t hear you. Jimin’s hand stays steady against the swell of your ass while you wiggle your hips in frustration. Impatient tears well in your eyes as you watch Yoongi slowly remove his hand from his cock; the tip an angry red from all the time he spent playing with it while you sucked Jimin’s cock. It feels like years pass before he even gets up from the chair.

“You wanna get fucked?” His deep voice makes your heart do cartwheels in your stomach. Yoongi’s hand caresses the nape of your neck, lightly combing through the mussed strands there. You nod vigorously, attempting to sit up so that you can convey your need to him even more.

“Please Yoongi, please I’ll do-“ a sharp tug on your hair makes your brain short circuit, words dying in your mouth. Your breathing turns shallow, anticipatory when he uses his primal grip on you to pull your body upwards until you’re sitting up on the couch. From here you are afforded the full view of them both. Jimin’s chest is still heaving from coming, his body covered in a sheen of sweat that only makes his appear more surreal in the dim studio lights. Yoongi had shed both his shirt and bottoms, presumably while you were busy with Jimin. His cock bobs against his stomach, gleaming with precum as he moves. Your heart jumps at the proximity of Yoongi’s body, the way you can see the veins in the arm that holds your hair flex as he pulls your scalp harder. You keen, hips pushing against the air at the sprouting pain. Yoongi laughs, licking at his gleaming canines you want to feel buried deep in your shoulder blade.

His grip holds you still, obedient as your eyes dart wildly between them, hungry to see what their next move will be.

“Such a patient girl for us, right Yoongi?” Jimin’s velvet voice makes you want to cry out and beg for release again, but you bite your tongue so you don’t miss what he says.

“Hmm, very patient.” Yoongi appraises you, sitting at attention, nipples pebbled with your arousal. “Although I think she could stand to wait a bit longer.” Your eyes widen, surprised and momentarily terrified they were going to leave you in the dust.

“No no no no, please don’t!” You can’t stop the tinge of anxiety that spikes through you, the sudden concern that they no longer wanted you if they had each other. Not to mention the burning desire that you knew you wouldn’t be able to quell even with your most favorite vibrator. Hot tears let loose down your cheeks, dripping off of your chin in mere seconds.

“Hey, baby, stop,” Yoongi’s hand releases your hair to tap at your cheek, light enough that you blink through your tears to focus on him. He smiles in the sweet gentle way you’ve come to know means he’s sincere. You can feel Jimin’s calloused fingers brushing gently over your shoulders, curling into the tensed muscles as you ground yourself.

“Do we need to stop?” All of the air in the room gets sucked out with his words, all three of you frozen in time.

“No, no,” You puff out. “Don’t wanna stop.” You grasp his arm, fingernails digging into his milky flesh. “I j-just feel so empty.”

His cat like grin returns at your words, your tears receding into glossy begging eyes. “Oh, baby, you’ll be full of cock in no time. Can you sit pretty for just a few more moments?”

Curious as to why you need to wait, you watch Yoongi intently, but are somehow still shocked when he catches Jimin’s plush lips in an earnest kiss. The younger man sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s frame. The way their lips move together is mesmerizing, and you faintly remember watching them kiss once before, when you were admittedly drunk and thought maybe you were mistaking the passion between them.

Now you knew for sure what you were seeing, and that it was making fresh waves of arousal drip down your thigh. Jimin reaches for Yoongi’s cock, stroking him with playfully light touches you know are meant to drive him crazy. You can see everything from your seat on the couch, and their symphony of moans sends your hand right between your thighs. You rub your clit in time with Jimin’s tugs, making sure to keep the touch just as feather light as it seems to be for Yoongi.

As sensitive as you are, even the simple touch is making your mind go hazy, losing yourself in the moment and the feeling of your own hand. You moan, pressing down into the pressure of your hand: embarrassing close to coming again just from watching your bosses make out.

“I thought I asked you to sit pretty?” Yoongi’s voice is clipped and breathy at having just pulled Jimin’s hand off of him, but it still startles you enough that you rip your hand away feeling like you had been caught.

“I-I’m sorry, it was just,” you stumble on the words, face flushed as you decide on how much you should admit. Jimin raises an inquisitive eyebrow, his cock fluttering back to life.

“Hot?”

Your blush deepens but you nod, hair falling into your face. Yoongi seems less amused at your disobedience, but the dark look on his face only makes you want him inside of you more. You bite back the whimper growing in your throat and still, waiting for instruction.

Yoongi’s steps forward, easily crowding your vision until he’s all you can see. One hand grips your throat, lightly at first, then increasingly hard as he sees the delight in your eyes. The press of his hand over your throat is intoxicating, just the perfect amount of pressure that has your mouth hanging open absentmindedly. You feel good, knowing that you he was going to take care of you. Jimin’s deep groan at the sight reminds you that he’s there just moments before Yoongi breaks your distance and captures your lips in a kiss.

It’s nothing as gentle and sweet as the few you’d shared before. His teeth are immediately nipping into your bottom lip, tongue surging forward into your mouth without abandon. Spit slicks down your chin and over your cheeks and you moan at the feeling, Yoongi practically swallowing you up like you’re the last person on earth. Through it all he keeps control of you by the hand on your neck, only letting up when you’re gasping for air.

You feel oddly vacant without his hand on your throat, but you have a feeling it won’t be the end of your experience with it.

“Such a pretty, desperate little thing. Can’t wait to fill you up, fuck.” Yoongi’s eyes flutter at the thought and before you know it he’s moving you, pressing the length of your body down against the couch. You’re acutely aware that Jimin must have moved to the chair to make room for you, but all thoughts get wiped from your head as Yoongi looms over you.

Your legs part, unashamed for him to see just how wet you are. He grins, kneeling between them and fisting himself a few times.

“Please fuck me, Yoongi, wanna feel you inside.” The stream of consciousness barrels out of you, followed by a string of curses as he obeys and pushes the head of his cock into you. The stretch is intense despite your extreme arousal, but the loving hands caressing your stomach help morph the feeling into pure pleasure. When the clouds of pain start to clear you moan, high and loud, latching onto the cushions under you.

“You look so good split open on my cock.” Yoongi works his hips into a smooth rhythm immediately, eyes honed in on the sight of your pussy swallowing him up. The press of him inside of you is serendipitous, the perfect angle means he’s nudging against your gspot with every single push.

“Prettiest fucking girl, look at you taking cock so well again.” Jimin is suddenly beside you, hands groping your tits again. You keen, overwhelmed with the sensations as white hot pleasure burns through you. Yoongi speeds up, bracing his foot for more leverage on the perfect angle as he pounds into you.

“So f-full,” you gasp out, tears of pleasure running into your hairline. Your clit throbs for attention, the final thing you need to fall headfirst into that wonderful pleasure. You gasp and writhe, pushing your hips upward to meet his thrusts.

“If you don’t stop that I’m gonna come right inside of you.” The words are a warning but your pussy immediately reacts by gripping his cock tighter. A broken moan spills from his mouth and he growls.

“Wan’ it.” The words come out soft, strangled by the loud squelching of your pussy, but Jimin is close enough to hear. He turns toward you, smiling with the intensity of a million suns.

“You want him to come inside of you? Fill that pussy up and make you ours?” Jimin is sure to speak loud enough that Yoongi will hear, but the man drilling into you looks pointedly only at your face, awaiting his confirmation. You look between them both, shivering with need.

“Yes, wanna have Yoongi come in me,” you lick your lips, “please, and,” You pause as Yoongi swipes his finger across your clit after hearing your affirmation. The last bits of your sanity are about to be washed away with your orgasm, but you breathe through it.

“W-wait!” You yell, Yoongi stilling as well as he can so close to his orgasm.

“Want Jimin too.” You gasp, barely trusting your words. The man grins, placing a kiss on the swell of your breast.

“Of course, baby, I’m so fucking hard right now I can’t imagine not coming all over these pretty tits.”

Tears of frustration brim again, hormones going crazy.

“No, in me.” You whine, petulant at the idea of him not coming inside you tonight. Both of their eyes widen, staring at you like you had just unlocked the secret to eternal life. Yoongi’s thrusts return with vengeance, finger circling your clit deftly.

“Can’t get enough of it, huh? Such a little slut that just one man coming in you isn’t enough?” You nod as his cock twitches, moments away from your own blinding orgasm. Jimin’s lips are devouring your neck, seemingly emblazoned by your admission. It only takes a few more swipes of Yoongi’s nimble fingers before you come, back arching off of the couch like a woman possessed.

The sounds and curses that leave you are barely human and essentially decipherable as your body warms under the glow of an intense orgasm. When Yoongi finally comes, your pussy gripping him tightly so he doesn’t leave, he continues strumming at your clit until your nerves feel set on fire.

“Good girl, taking all my fucking come.” Yoongi praises you as he finally pulls out, watching his come slip out with him before he retreats to stand beside you. Your head is still in the clouds, mind numb from absolute pleasure as Yoongi pats your thighs so he can get out from between them.

Jimin brushes the sweat slicked strands of hair off of your forehead, leaning close enough to him that you can see his individual eyelashes.

“Still got it in you? Want another load?” Your stomach flips, pussy clenching at the idea and you nod so hard it makes your neck hurt. Yoongi shuffles up until he’s next to your head, obviously sleepy as he plops down onto the floor with a lazy grin. He kisses your cheek playfully as Jimin moves.

He wastes no time in assuming the same position Yoongi had just left. Pliant and fucked out, you give him an exhausted smile as you watch him line up and push into your entrance.

“Still so fucking tight even though you just got railed. So willing to have two cocks back to back.” Jimin’s voice burns through you, low and sexy in a way you rarely get to enjoy. His eyes twinkle as you nod, gasping at the length of his cock. He begins his onslaught even faster than Yoongi had, pushing through your walls with a blindingly perfect rhythm.

“F-Fuck me so well,” you slur, grasping for his arms as he drills into you. Jimin is gasping, clearly close to his own end as you start to feel the hazy warmth of an orgasm come on. Yoongi kisses you even more as your moans heighten, sure not to cover your mouth so that they get to hear every sound you can give them. “You’re gonna look so pretty full of me and Jimin’s come, so fucked out and dripping.”

Even without any attention to your clit his words have you just seconds away from coming, and you warn Jimin of this.

“Already gonna come without me even having to touch your little clit? So fucking wet and desperate that just my cock will do it?” Your head spins, eyes tipping back into your head. His hips stutter, faltering for just a second as your knees lock, pushing his cock even further into you until you’re coming. Your eyes squeeze shut as you scream your throat raw calling his name and begging for his come.

You can’t stop the tears that spill out of you even after you feel him empty into you, the weight of his body pressing into your own as he makes sure not to waste a drop. You pant together, chests rising and falling in time. The way your skin sticks together doesn’t even bother you right now, but Jimin moves just slightly and the cool air rushes in.

You mumble, still working on feeling like a human again.

“What’s that?” It’s Yoongi, who’s still sitting by your side, laying his head against Jimin’s toned bicep.

“Cold.” You try, voice absolutely wrecked. You poke at Jimin’s side. “Heavy, too. Move.” You wiggle beneath him and he sits up, giggling at your sudden attitude. He’s still lodged inside of you, his and Yoongi’s come slowly leaking out of you and onto the couch, but this somehow feels just as normal as your usual day at work. Another chill passes through your body and Yoongi tuts, striding order to the thermometer. You and Jimin both watch his naked form as he goes, cranking the number up so that the room gets hotter.

“Told you we keep it too cold in here,” he mutters to Jimin, who shrugs and looks down at the mess between your legs. You flush.

“Sorry about the couch.” Jimin laughs as he pulls out, clearly still a little aroused at the sight of come pouring out of you.

“Fuck the couch. It’s your spot anyway.” His fingers dance over your pussy and you whine, shaking your head and clamping your thighs shut.

“Too sensitive.” It’s simple, and he nods easily, slipping off of the couch. You lose sight of him for a second before he’s back, slipping your sweatshirt back over your head. The warmth instantly cures you, putting a satisfied smile on your face. Yoongi reappears from what you assume to be the bathroom with a damp towel, silently asking your permission before gently cleaning you up.

Your legs twitch and you have to physically bite back a moan when he runs the fabric over your clit, but you’re happy to be cleaned and have him help you into your shorts. He hands the towel off to Jimin as you sit up, pointedly looking away from the mess on the couch.

“Shit, forgot about that!” Yoongi springs forward, shirt halfway on. He leans over the coffee table and flicks off a switch, the recording equipment going dead. His face blanches as he looks over at you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t turn it off before we…” his hands wave uselessly in front of him. Jimin, at least dressed, looks equally mortified.

“We can delete it all! I promise, we won’t even listen to it again! I’ll do it right-“

Your laugh bubbles out of you and stops them both in their places.

“I don’t care, guys.” Their faces twist in confusion. Surely you wouldn’t want them to keep it? “You were stuck on the song anyway. Use it as the backtrack or something.” You shrug, taking supreme delight in the surprise on their faces.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Jimin groans, appreciative, and you glow under their eyes. He immediately dashes over to the computer, locating and examining the file. Yoongi finishes redressing and even wipes off the couch before bundling you into his chair with him. His hands comb through your matted hair and examine the marks on your neck until he deems you to be okay.

“Thanks for the song inspiration.” He chuckles, mouth tucked against the nape of your neck.

“Happy to help. Let me know the next time you need some new ideas.” Despite your sleepiness the idea makes you squirm, to which Yoongi groans.

“I have a feeling we’ll be needing lots of new ideas. For a very long time.” Maybe you’re crazy, or cock hungry, but you swear you feel him twitch against your ass. “But for now you should probably go home.” You both watch Jimin as he fiddles with some instrumentals, layering them over the peaky audio the three of you recorded on the desktop before popping on his headphones.

Yoongi sighs. “You’re sleepy, and if you stay here any longer while we mix this you’re definitely not gonna be walking tomorrow.”

#yoonmin #yoonmin x reader #min yoongi #park jimin #jimin #yoongi #Yoongi x reader #jimin x reader #jimin smut #yoongi smut #jimin x yn #jimin x you #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fic #jimin fic #jimin x y/n #poly!bts #poly bts

[bigfatbimbo]

small announcements + brainspew about Vox —

I’ll get to the actual important stuff soon but this idea alone wasn’t enough for a full fic so… anyways the idea of getting Vox flowers?

Like especially with a fem!reader because he’s from the 1950s and probably has never received or even considered the concept of receiving flowers.

But say you know he’s having a relatively hard day, probably swamped in meetings, loaded with paperwork and mishaps while filming one of his tv shows. So finally, you text him and see that he has a moment of free time to spare.

So a quick trip to the store and you pick up his favorite flowers, that are NOT roses because that’s too obvious. He likes bleeding hearts and stargazing lily’s.

Anyways, say you get there and pay a visit to him in his office. He doesn’t even look up at you for a long moment because he’s totally locked in on work. But then finally, with a huff, he turns his chair around to face you and begins to ask why it is your bothering him when his schedule is so packed—

But then he notices the flowers in your hands and falls silent. He kinda just stares wide eyed for a moment, before asking “Uhm, what are those for?” And you explain obviously that you knew he was having a bad day so you wanted to get him something special.

And then he’d stay quiet for another minute before bursting out into laughter, remarking how dumb the idea was, how useless the flowers are, and how you interrupted his work and… but then his laughter turns into giggles and he’s turning away from you because his pupils had dilated into tiny hearts and his screen was beating up so obviously.

His feet curl up to his chest as he takes the bouquet from your hands and giggles like a school girl.

And he’s covering up his screen with his free hand to cover his obvious smile as he admires the flowers with the other hand. He’d still tell you how idiotic the whole idea was, but then he’d clear his throat and ask you to fetch him a vace.

Plopping them in the vace dismissively, he’d kiss you a kiss, thank you for the thought, and wait for you to leave. As soon as his office door closes, he’d fetch a few of the flowers out of the pot, and hold them to his chest. Keeping them near him to smell the sweet perfume and be reminded of you while he finishes his work.

OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENT TIME!!! So basically, I think i’m fading out of my Hazbin obsession. Like slowly but surely, I feel like this is the final month of the fixation. Honestly, I give it two weeks at best.

So because of that, i’m welcoming you to go ABSOLUTELY HAM on the requests. Like i’m granting you permission to request characters that aren’t necessarily on my list of the cast that I write for.

Feel free to leave the nastiest, wildest, deepest desire type requests in the world, to be honest. (except I will literally never write for a dom male character sorry gang.) Or feel free to leave the fluffiest, tooth rotting, embarrassingly cutesy request ever.

This is practically the bimbo going away party and you guys should leave NO stone unturned.

Also, this is just a guess because i’m slowly becoming interested in other things. So if I don’t end up fading out of the fandom… yeah um happy 2k guys?? I’m literally like two months late but— This would probably just be considered a celebration. But I do have a sneaking feeling.

IN OTHER NEWS, those silly ‘Low Effort ____ headcanons’ I do? Yeah, some out for Velvette and Sir Pentious tomorrow, probably.

Anyways, i’m super duper exhausted, so this is probably good night. <3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #vox x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #inbox open #bimbo rambling

[starryseokmins]

hey honey | w.jh

pair: wen junhui x afab! reader

warnings: not proofread! food play (honey and whipped cream used) switch reader!, dom! jun, oral (m! receiving), face fucking, honey used as lube... i wouldn't advise doing this irl!, unprotected sex (also don't do this) 'good girl' used but just once

wc: 1.3k

a/n: this is my first time writing about food play so i'm sorry if it's inaccurate... especially the honey part. i'm sure it's very unsanitary and just wouldn't work, but hey, its fanfiction for a reason

junhui's eyes were glued to your hand spreading honey over toast. fantasizing about how you'd use the honey on him, thinking about all the ways you'd lick it off of his body. then his mind went to licking it off of you, your tits covered in honey...

he decided he needed that to happen.

"moon junhui!" you called out in a sing-song voice, breaking him from his trance. when he looked down he realised you'd already placed the plates of toast on the table and you sat down in front of him.

"sorry baby, i got lost in thought." jun apologised as he picked up a piece of toast. "thinking about what?"

he hesitated for a moment, eyes back on the honey. it was now sliding down his fingers and his mind drifted to how you'd look sucking it off of them --

"baby?" your voice brought him back to reality and he cleared his throat and looked back up at your eyes. "um, nothing important."

you sighed and put your piece of toast down. "jun, you wouldn't be so distracted if it wasn't important. come on, you can tell me!"

jun avoided eye contact as he swallowed, opening his mouth to speak then closing it again. he just couldn't find his words. "you'll make fun of me."

scoffing, you grabbed jun's hand and placed yours over his, rubbing at his knuckles. "i promise i won't."

"i wanna… try something with you. in the bedroom." he finally let his thoughts out, cheeks embarrassingly hot.

your lips quirked upwards out of curiosity. "yeah? i'm down."

"i haven't even told you what it is yet!" jun scoffed.

"well i'm down with anything as long as it's with you."

─────── ☆ ★ ☆ ───────

the conversation you had in the morning was playing in your head all day. when you finally stepped inside your house after the grueling day at work, you let out a sigh of relief when you spotted your boyfriend was home.

"hey honey!" you called out as you made your way to jun, your arms wrapping around him. he snaked his around your waist, you didn't miss the smirk adorned on his lips. "'honey'? you're teasing me now."

you grinned and kissed him on the cheek, escaping from his hug. "maybe i am. you gonna do anything about it?"

he trapped you in his hold again, your back now pressed against his chest. jun's tongue slid up the nape of your neck, his breath hot and your whole body shivered.

"want you so bad..." he whispered, his breath and your gasps filling your ears as he started to kiss your neck, biting and sucking marks into it.

jun's hand crawled down your torso and down to your hips, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. "take this off for me?"

you nodded and jun stepped back. the second your shirt was off he pounced back on you, hands now cupping your covered tits.

he kissed your upper chest as jun's hands found their way to the clasp of your bra, unclipping it and letting it slide down your body as he hesitantly pulls back. "do you wanna try it out now?"

"yes please, been thinking about it all day..."

jun giggles and leaves the room for a second, only to come back with a jar of honey and a can of whipped cream from the kitchen. "this is what i meant. if you don't want to, it's okay --"

you shushed him and took the whipped cream out of his hand, opening the cap and poured some cream into his mouth, immediately kissing him afterwards.

your tongue explored his mouth, licking up the whipped cream making him moan. "take yours off too.."

jun didn't hesitate to pull his shirt off and throw it to god knows where, his attention back on you and the whipped cream in your hand. "gonna use it more or can i have a turn?"

"uh-uh, be patient baby."

your sudden dominance made jun's body warm, gasped when he felt cream get sprayed on his nipples. "shit, i didn't expect you to be so into this."

you hummed as you leaned down and licked one nipple clean, jun's whimpers filled your ears. you moaned against his chest as you licked the other nipple clean, then you pulled back and sprayed whipped cream all the way down his stomach to his happy trail.

jun moaned loudly when you trailed your tongue down his abs, licking up every last bit of the cream and he watched your throat as you swallowed it.

"wanna use the honey on you. can i baby?" you asked him, fingers dipping into the waistband of his pants. "fuck, yes please!" jun groaned when he felt your other hand palm his crotch before you pulled his pants and boxers down.

"so hard already, my needy boy." you giggled as you reached for the honey. "wanted you all day, wanted this... god!"

you hands spread honey on his cock, pumping up and down. his back arched off the mattress as your thumb spread honey on his tip and your tongue immediately licked it off after. "oh fuck!"

your mouth wrapped around jun's cock, inching forward to take more of him in. the taste of the honey mixed with the taste of his dick made you moan around him, jun whimpering from the vibration.

he couldn't hold himself back as he pushed your head down deeper on his cock, making you gag around him. he pulled you up with your hair to let you breathe. "fuck my mouth."

those are the words he needed to hear before he basically slammed your head down on his cock, your gags just egging him on. drool started pooling at the base of his cock whenever he'd make you stay down there for a few moments and the excess honey was dripping down his thighs and onto the sheets by now.

when you tapped his thigh he pulled you back up and watched as honey and drool dripped from your lips, how tears threatened to spill from your eyes and he savored the fucked out expression on your face. "you look so fucking pretty right now, baby."

"junnie.. fuck me already, please i need you so bad. fuck me!" you begged as you picked up the jar of honey and poured more on his dick. "use this, please..."

"oh fuck, baby. you really are into this aren't you?" jun teased as he helped you take your underwear off, his tip now grinding on your clit.

you grinded back, desperate for him to just fill you up. you sighed in relief when he finally pushed inside you. "that's my good girl. take my honey covered cock."

jun whispered filth into your ears as he bottomed out, not giving you a break before he started to relentlessly fuck into you. "oh please, junnie --"

you were interrupted with his fingers being shoved into your mouth. "suck." jun commanded. you obliged, your tongue wrapped around the digits.

they were covered in honey and you moaned in delight. when jun's cock found your g-spot you cried out around his fingers and jun smiled wickedly, thrusting into that spot over and over again. his free hand slid down your body and made its way to your clit.

the stimulation was too much and jun took his digits out of your mouth to hear your noises. "i'm gonna cum!" you whimpered, his ministrations on your clit never ending.

"cum for me pretty, cum on my cock," jun breathed out. "oh fuck! i'm so close too."

"oh jun! jun, jun, jun! cum with me, please!" you cried his name like a mantra as you came on his dick, your pussy clenching around him making his hips stutter.

like clockwork, jun came straight after you, his warmth filling your hole. his body collapsed onto you, both of you panting.

"thank you for trying that with me baby." he whispered as he pulled out, watching as his cum mixed with the honey dripped out of you. "next time, you gotta eat me out with the honey."

"before we think of next time, let's take a shower." jun laughed as he got up, helping you to the bathroom.

#seventeen #seventeen smut #svt #svt smut #junhui x reader #junhui smut #jun smut #jun x reader #wen junhui #— ✏️ starryseokmins

[are-we-nice]

Barista! Sirius Black x reader | 319 words

You are so going to be fired.

First, you had just not showed up at work yesterday. That wasn't your fault, your neighbor got arrested and you were a witness. Now, you were three hours late and still had to get your coffee.

As you walked into the cafe, you were relieved to see that that there was no line. As you were walking up to the barista, you quickly got out your wallet. But the barista didn't seem to want to rush.

"You in a hurry there, dollface?" He says, chuckling. His black hair contrasted deeply with his pale skin, making it so he would probably stand out in a group of people.

"Um, yes. Can I get a-"

"Woah, woah, slow down. I can't understand you when you talk like that." He says teasingly. You had a feeling he could understand you, but you didn't want to be rude.

You told him your order and your name, more slowly this time, and he grinned. "Alright, doll, I'll have that ready for you in just a bit."

You nodded, going to the side to wait. As you watched him make your drink, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Dollface. No one had ever called you that before. You would like to hear it more often.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you heard your name being called out. He already made your drink? You hadn't realized how long it had been.

"Thank you." You said as you grabbed your drink from him, going to grab your wallet.

"No, no, it's on the house." He said, holding his hand up.

"Huh? Really?"

"Yep. A pretty girl like you deserves it." He responded, winking.

You felt your face heat up at that as you embarrassingly walked away. You looked at your receipt, noticing something written on it.

376-828-2882-Sirius

You may get fired, but it'll be worth it.

A/N

This is so rushed I'm sorry 😭 I was in The City® and couldn't write but I wanted to get something out. Also, that phone number is random sooo don't call it or anything. Thanks for reading <3

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black one shot

[chronicowboy]

Natalia texts him four days after Kameron interrupts their date. He has to admit its a shock. He'd kind of just assumed that whatever thing that may have been blooming between them had shrivelled and died. He hadn't been as distraught as he thought he might be, in fact he'd been a little lighter since she walked out.

(Until Eddie had told them about bumping into Marisol at the hardware store, but he doesn't really want to think about that too closely.)

They meet up at a coffee shop because Buck isn't quite sure what to expect, but somehow inviting her back to his apartment feels like a step over the line.

"I'm really sorry," she says as soon as she sits down. "I reacted poorly and I just wanted to get my head on straight before I got back to you again."

"I get it," Buck shrugs, smiles. "I dropped a hell of a lot on you that night. Like all at once. Guess its easier when its just words and not a very pregnant woman on your doorstep."

"Yeah." Natalia laughs, ducking her head. Buck knows she's beautiful, stunning even, but he doesn't feel it. "It was a bit of a shock to say the least." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks up at him. "I was blindsided, I reacted badly, I'm sorry."

Buck bites back the instinctual dismissal on his tongue, hears an echo of Eddie's you don't have to be anything for anyone.

"Thank you for saying that." Its an awkward thing to say, but Buck is getting better at not cutting parts of himself off to fit into other's perception of him.

"Did I blow this?" She grimaces at him, an apologetic thing that makes Buck huff a small laugh. "I feel like I blew it." She bites her lip. "Its just... You know, you spend so much of your life confronting death that you forget to be afraid of it. But the act of creating life," she releases a long exhale, "that's terrifying to me."

"And I get that." Buck nods, but he doesn't. Not really. His job is filled with so much death, life is a luxury, a privilege. Every time they get to help a mother give birth to her child, Buck feels an old wound from a loss on the job heal. The circle of life, Chim would call it.

"I just." Natalia sighs. "This isn't really something you say on like a third date, but I also feel like the whole sperm donor thing wasn't a second date topic, so I'm just gonna say it anyway." She glances over at a couple in the corner, the man wiping foam off their toddler's chin. "I'm not ready for the whole life thing." Buck blinks. "Like kids. I just don't see it happening for me. That's why I reacted the way I did."

"Because Kameron was pregnant?" Buck frowns, heart stuck on her words.

"Because you're a father," she says plainly.

"But I'm not." Buck huffs, scrubs his hands over his trousers. "I'm the donor, not the dad. I'm not really involved. I just gave them my DNA. Sure, I might see the kid from time to time but that's because Connor and Kameron are my friends. Its not because I'm actually that kid's father."

"But..."

"No, Natalia. I am nothing to that child apart from a family friend. That's it." Buck says it and something inside him settles.

"You're sure?"

"Positive." Buck nods. "You want to get a coffee? Try again?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice." She smiles at him, and Buck reaches for his phone just as it buzzes.

christopher: i need your help

christopher: dad's hopeless

Buck snorts down at the texts and shoots an apologetic look up at Natalia as he types out a response.

tell him not to touch anything and i'll come over to help around dinner

"Everything okay?" Natalia quirks an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Buck stuffs his wallet into his pocket as they stand up. "Eddie, um, firefighter Diaz," she nods in recognition, "he's trying to help his son with this big project he has. And Christopher is asking me for help, so I can only assume he's doing an embarrassingly bad job."

christopher: you better hurry, i don't want to fail because dad glued his sliders to the floor

Buck sends a line of emojis he know Chris will get a kick out of decoding before looking up at a silent Natalia. There's something calculating to the slight furrow between her brows that makes his hackles rise.

"And..." She purses her lips. Buck finds himself swallowing in anticipation of whatever she's about to say. "Do you help your co-worker's son with his homework a lot?"

"Eddie's my best friend," Buck clarifies. "Well, no. Christopher is my best friend. But Eddie's a close second. I help out whenever I can." He cuts himself off before he can say anything else, already feeling like he's revealed too much. "Um, w-why?"

"Do you have a picture of him?" she asks. Buck flashes his lockscreen at her, and Natalia smiles sweetly but it looks like she's just figured something out. "He's cute."

"The cutest," Buck murmurs, stealing a quick look at the picture of Chris squirming away from one of Eddie's hugs. "Although he'd probably disown me as a best friend for calling him that now. He's getting too old."

"Buck," Natalia says softly, "I don't think this is going to work out."

"What?" He frowns, figures it would be rude to check his texts when he's being broken up with - if it can even be called a break-up at this point.

"Just the concept of you bringing life into this world was enough to terrify me." She shrugs. "But there's an actual, real life you're shaping and helping to do his homework and looking at like he's the reason you came back from the dead. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Christopher's not my kid, though." It feels like a lie as he says it, tastes like ash in his mouth the moment he thinks it.

"Isn't he?" Natalia taps his phone screen so that it lights up on that same picture of Christopher. She smiles at him weakly. "It was nice meeting you, Buck. Thanks for giving me some answers about death, I hope you can find the answers in your life."

Natalia leaves him in the coffee shop with a sweep of her hand down his arm, and Buck fumbles with a thousand desires all rising to the surface at once. None of which are a desire to run after her. But there's one, there's one stronger, louder, bigger than all the rest. One that makes him want to run all the way to homework club.

on my way, bud

#sami rambles #okayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy still getting used to writing natalia so bear with me. but yeah. #also all of my ficlets over the next few days are probably going to be about buck and chris bc those are the ideas i have so. yeah. #911 spoilers #911 fox #911 show #evan buckley #christopher diaz #buddie #911 spec #911 ficlet #buddie ficlet #911 spec fic #buckley diaz family fic #buckley diaz family #buck and christopher #natalia dollenmeyer #911 fic #911 fanfic

[babybluebex]

UM HELLO ?!

desperately need a continuation of munch!dom please 🧎🏽‍♀️

oh. oh yes. oh absolutely. obviously this is gonna be under the cut bc a) it's not gonna be short, and b) it's explicit smut, which is NOT everyone's fav, so if you don't wanna read that, scroll on :)

(the gif... all i can see is tongue and lips and big doe eyes)

but munch!dom. the first time he ate you out was your first night together, he's really setting a precedent here, but before he even got between your legs, he was everywhere, sucking your neck and pushing his hands up your shirt, wanting to be so close to you and feel every inch of you, and the kisses he lands on your mouth take your breath away and he knows it

you get into his flat and don't even make it to the bedroom, he gently pushes you onto the couch and moans softly as he kisses your lips, playfully biting at your bottom lip, and he does That Thing where he pulls back and bites his lip and sorta laughs and his eyes are half-lidded and he’s looking at you, not like he wants you but like he needs you, and you sorta say “what?” and he shakes his head “nothing… just thinking” “about?” “you. what else?”, and the kisses he lays on your skin start going down, stripping you of your shirt and taking his time to suck at your nipples, and you gasp when he bites a little, and he groans at your sound and mumbles something about “… so goddamn pretty…”

finally gets you out of your pants, and you’re suddenly aware that you’re mostly naked on his couch and he still has his jacket on, and he clocks the moment of hesitation, and he’s pulling his face from out of your stomach “what’s wrong?” and you’re cloudy and can only go “huh?” “you’re kinda… i don’t know, a little off all the sudden. everything ok?” “oh yeah!” you say quickly “j-just, umm, could you take off your…?” and he sorta jumpstarts "fuck, i didn't even realize, sure, sorry" and sheds his jacket, and he goes for his pants, undoing them just enough to get some relief from the constriction on his hardening cock, and he returns to you like he can't bear to be away for too long

it's obvious where he's going and what he wants to do, kissing down and gently biting your hipbones, grabbing you hard with his strong hands, and he gets you fully on your back and kisses at you through the thin material of your panties, his eyes fluttering to look up at you "can i?" he whispers, his voice hoarse and a little broken, he already sounds so fucked out and nothing's even happened yet, but you just sorta whimper and nod, and he shakes his head "give me words, baby, your pretty noises aren't enough" and you start to whine his name and shift your hips up to meet his mouth, but he moves away with a laugh "baby, c'mon, i'm serious, need you to talk to me" "do i need to give you verbal consent or what?" you giggle, and dom rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he nods "enthusiastic consent would be appreciated, please" he says, and you just laugh and run your fingers through his curls "you're an idiot" you smile "i'm not doin' anything until you say those magic words" dom says "fine" you say "dom, please?" "please what?" dom asks "oh my god!" you laugh "please fuck me!"

and he instantly goes in, kissing at you through your panties, then kissing your thighs, going far but never where you need him, and you're already soaked, embarrassingly quickly, but he doesn't comment on it, and he really only speaks when you ask him "what're you doin'?"

"wanna get you all easy first" dom whispers "you're so fucking tense, i'll never be able to fit inside you if you don't loosen up a little. wanna get you all soft and relaxed, wanna make you feel good, love"

and he drives you nearly crazy when he starts to eat it through your panties, licking and really going in, but you've still got the thin cotton barrier and you might lose it if you don't feel the actual wet warmth of his mouth, and you wiggle under him to try to get the point across, and he pulls away and sends a quick little smack to your cunt "be patient" he tells you as you moan "you'll get it soon" "do you always tease mean like this?" you ask, and dom shrugs "when i feel like it" he says, and his fingers curl in your panties and gently pull, not enough to move them but enough to make your heart jump in your chest, and he lets the elastic snap back onto your thigh "how bad do you want my mouth, baby?" "really bad" you whine "bad enough to beg?" he asks with a devious twinkle in his eye, and you nod quickly "well...?"

and your breathing is so labored, every nerve ending is on fire, and you mumble out "dom, please, baby, please, i want it so bad" "what's that?" he asks "sorry, you'll have to be louder" "dom!" you hiccup "y-your neighbors—" "can complain all the fuck they want" he says "beg louder, or you're not getting it" and you've never seen him like this before, not exactly forceful but not shaky either, and demanding but also gentle, you've never experienced it with any partner before but he's being dominant as fuck, the man's gotta match his name, you suppose "dominic, please!" you cry louder, digging your fingertips into his scalp "please, i want it so bad, please!" "what do you want so badly?" dom asks, and his finger lightly trails over your covered core, feeling the wetness that you've gathered "tell me, baby" "y-your mouth" you stammer out "where?" and you know he's being teasing and mean on purpose, he's just trying to get you worked up so that the relief is that much sweeter, and the way he's knelt on the floor between your thighs, watching your face intently, sends shivers up your spine "anywhere. wherever you want" and another quick little smack "where do you want?" he asks "sweetheart, just use your words and tell me exactly what you want, and i'll give it to you. whatever you want. just tell me."

and you squeeze your eyes shut and pant out "my pussy! put your mouth on my pussy, please, dom, please, i want it so—" and you can't even finish your sentence before he's shifting your panties to the side and going in for the kill

and god, he's so good at it, licking fat stripes from your hole to your clit, sucking it between his lips, rubbing his thumbs on your inner thighs to urge your legs open wider, and he's messy with it, spreading your wetness everywhere with his mouth, coating the scruff on his upper lip and on his chin with you, and he's moaning because you're moaning, it is SO HOT, and all you can do it just writhe around and whimper and cry, and you pull his hair to tell him you want more, and he happily obliges, bringing his hand into the mix, rubbing your sensitive little clit with the softs of his fingers, and your hips buck up involuntarily "fuck, sorry—" you start but dom pulls away from you with a smile (and a wild lil look in his eyes) "oh baby, do whatever you want... with pussy this good, you can do whatever you want to me" and he goes back in, and you squeal when the tip of his tongue prods at your throbbing entrance, his fingers still rubbing you, but he's picking up speed, working quickly towards an inevitable end, and you can't help the heat growing in your lower belly "d-dom" you whine "i'm gettin'..." "yeah?" he replies "you feel it?" "mhm" you mumble "c-can you... fingers...?"

and that's not remotely a coherent question but that's where your mind is at rn, but he also knows what you want, because his long slender fingers join in, pushing into you with ease, and whoever taught him how to finger someone was doing GOD'S WORK, bc he KNOWS about the little trick of hooking his fingers up and finding your g-spot, and he gives a wicked grin when you jolt and yelp "yeah?" he asks, maybe a little whiny and condescending, but the heat is growing quicker and quicker in your belly, permeating down into your toes "that feel good, baby?"

"dom, i'm gonna cum" you tell him quickly, and his fingers play inside you as the tip of his tongue flicks your clit, and you're so sensitive and it's almost overwhelming, and a shock runs through your system when he spits onto you, right where his fingers sink into you, and suddenly the wet lewd sounds of it are hitting the walls, and your back arches as it all washes over you, and you can hardly manage out a wrecked cry of his name "dominic!"

when you come down from the high, dom's pulled his fingers from you and is palming at himself as he watches you shiver and force out a breathy laugh, and his free hand is rubbing your leg, and he's shushing you "just like that, so good, good girl... d'ja like that, honey?"

and you nod a little, moving to sit up a bit to see him, and he's knelt back on the floor, neck and ears and cheeks red, hair messy from your fingers, and you just mumble "where the fuck did you learn that??" "learn what?" he asks "dommy... i've never cum like that before..." you tell him "not from... that" "oh" he says simply, and he shifts himself up, going into the pocket of his jeans before pulling them off and shoving them to the side, and you see the little blue condom wrapper in his palm "well, you're welcome, honey. do you wanna keep going, or are you done for the night?" "is this that whole enthusiastic consent thing again?" you ask playfully, and you pull him back to you, whipping his tshirt over his head (and cleaning his face with it), and he gets up on the couch between your legs, caging your head in-between his arms "no" he says with a grin "this is that whole 'i wanna make sure you're up for it' thing. that you can take it." "well" you start "i guess i'm all easy and soft and relaxed, huh? you might be able to fit inside me now" "only one way to find out" he winks with a smarmy grin

and when you're all done, about two and a half (the half being him cleaning you up with his mouth and tongue, which resulted in one last surprise orgasm that neither of you planned) rounds later, he's got his window open and a cigarette between his fingers, and you're all curled in his side, tracing his tattoo, and you just mumble "who would've thought..." "huh?" he asks "who knew you're such a munch?" you ask, and he furrows his eyebrows "a what?" he asks, slotting his cigarette in the corner of his mouth to circle both his arms around you "a munch" you giggle "ok, but what is that?" he asks, playfully batting away your low-drifting wandering fingers "look it up" you tell him, nodding towards his phone on the nightstand "urban dictionary it" and he sorta grumbles and grabs his phone and goes to google, and he reads for a few seconds, then scrolls, then reads some more, and he goes "... yeah, but that's not bad, is it?" "no" you say "it's just very sweet" "you know who else is sweet?" he mumbles under his breath, and you go to grab his dick, but he gets your wrist first with a laugh and draws you into a kiss

#👁️👄👁️ #anywaysssss #bex answers #anon ask #dominic sessa x reader #dominic sessa smut

[be-my-ally]

A Tour of the Penthouse

ugh naming one-shots is the bane of my existence. I'm terrible at coming up with titles.

Hello! I am back! not that I ever left, but I've been on a bit of a writing break the past few weeks - not intentionally I might add, so I am mighty pleased to be *inspired* and writing again. Much more in the pipeline coming soon, but first, a fun little smutty 1973 vegas one night one-shot!

warnings: 18+, p in v, oral (v receiving), mirrors... that's it folks, short and basic but hopefully still hot! this doesn’t feel super elvis-y to me but i think that might be the self-doubt creeping in after it being so long since i last posted (i hope)!

For the prompt: “No. Don’t talk to her like that."

pairing: 1973 Elvis x female reader (note: photos below are from the stax studios sessions in memphis July 22nd about 2 weeks before the vegas dates this fic is set in, but if he was willing to wear velour in tennessee in july, I don't see why not in vegas in august).

wc: 4.4k

You’d had the fantasy, the idea of being plucked out of the audience, the concept of a tap on the shoulder; “Please, miss, come with us.” But you’d known that was purely fantastical. You’d not been handpicked to be here this evening, you’d handily bumped into the brother of your best friend’s husband - a tenuous link if ever there was one who’d happily offered you an evening’s entertainment after you’d embarrassingly admitted you’d come to Vegas alone in the vain hope of scoring an Elvis ticket. The embarrassment waned pretty fast though when he’d apologised for not being able to do better than a back of the balcony seat, but that, perhaps because you’d sounded so embarrassed or pathetic, he knew someone with a standing invite to “not an after-party, just, casual drinks after the show.” Even so, you’d not believed you’d get anywhere near Elvis himself. Yet, somehow here you were, drink in hand, being flirted with (inexplicably terribly)  by one of his entourage as you pretended not to be solely focused on his friend and boss, talking mere feet away. He suddenly whirls around to you, talking loudly to the man in front of you, 

“No. Don’t talk to her like that, man, c’mon.” Elvis shakes his head, “You gotta do it right if you’re gonna try.” The thin man, his name escaping you as entirely inconsequential now you’re being faced with Elvis himself, takes a step back as Elvis practically pushes him to the side, taking his place directly in front of you, hand brushing your arm in greeting. “ Just ignore him hon.” You nod, a little starstruck at being so close to him, having watched him from the balcony earlier that night it was almost a little jarring to go from such distance to so close. The top of his head and bridge of his nose had been more visible to you than anything else, the novelty of now being able to see up his nose one of the many thoughts rapidly running through your head. Oh God, how did I end up here? And, Lord, is that really Elvis talking to me? Competed to be at the forefront of your mind, although admittedly along with Is he really wearing velvet velour in Vegas? 

“Oh, I’ll do my best! If you say so, Sir!” Sir? To be faced with him in all his physical glory - velour and all, was hindering your ability to form thought or words. He chuckles at you, seemingly finding your obviously flustered state endearing, while nudging the other man again,

“Now - before I had ta step-in and save ya, what was he promisin’ ya? A tour?” The other nods sheepishly, as you agree, 

“Oh - uh, yes, um your, uh, friend - uhh, sorry, what was it again? Oh uh, Red here, was saying he could take me to have a look around the showroom, while it was empty-like. If uh, if I was interested.” You cringe internally as you feel yourself stumbling over your words. Elvis scoffs, rolling his eyes beneath tinted glasses. 

“The showroom? That was the best you could do, huh boy?” He shakes his head in seeming exasperation, turning back to you to ask, “You ever wanted to see a dressing room… or uh, my suite?” Of course you have, who wouldn’t have done?  

“Oh. Well, I uh, I can’t say I’ve considered it before.” You wince internally, trying to keep your outer expression neutral, was that seriously your best reply? 

“No? Well honey, I’ll have to take you back and show you some time.” You can’t help the giggles escaping, nor the slight snort that preceded them - too utterly flustered to worry about playing it cool.  

“C’mon EP, that’s not playin’ fair, you’re practically bribing the poor girl.” Red says it almost without thinking, and you can see the nerves play out on his face, hoping Elvis would react the way he’d intended. 

“Bribing?” He scoffs, “With you as the competition,” sneering he turns back to you, “go on then, doll, who’d you pick? Me or this ol’ lug?” He puffs out his chest as if showing off. 

“Well, uh, Mr. Uh. Mr West. You’re very nice and all, but -“ Red laughs in response,

“Don’t worry darlin’, I knew I was fighting a losin’ battle soon as he stepped over here.” He nods, “I’ll try my luck over there, you two enjoy your night.” He smiles, although you can tell he’s a little put out. Elvis looks pleased with himself, hip cocked and hand inserted into his bright gold belt, seemingly waiting for you to have something else to say. 

“That - that’s not the outfit you were wearing earlier.” If you could smack yourself right now, you would; of course it wasn’t the same outfit, why would he stay in a stage costume all night, you wish you could take the words back but Elvis smiles, a little ruefully, pulling his hand from his belt to run it through his hair. 

“Well honey,” He drawls out the endearment, elongating the syllable break, as if debating whether to tell you, or perhaps an attempt at making his voice sound even more appealing. “It’s, a bit embarrassin’ to admit, but… I’ve got a bit of a  habit of splitting my pants…” He looks at you, solemnly shaking his head,  “Just you know, with all the movin’ and shakin’ on stage, I seem to go through a lot of them. Made it through the show alright tonight, but apparently climbing down them stairs off the stage at the end was too much for ‘em.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes widen as you take that in for a second, mind gone as you imagine the white crystallised suit of earlier, splitting down the seam and then all the way down his legs, imagining it falling off of him completely, him stood nude and glorious against the spotlight of the stage. You realise he was still talking, “Huh? Sorry - What’d you say?” Elvis rolls his eyes, 

“I said, listen, how’s about you come and take a look? Are you any good with a needle?” You’re slow to the uptake when being faced with his southern drawl and seemingly random question and you panic for a second; he’s still looking at you, watching your expressions with unblinking eyes beneath his lavender shades, you can’t think of what to say in response, such an easy question, but what level of skill does he even need? You gape at him until he finally seems to take pity, shrugging a little, 

“S’alright if you’re not, it’s just my fingers, I’ve never got the hang of it,” He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “My ma tried, but I can never thread it quite right.” He mimes trying to thread a needle, comedically - tongue out, and one eye closed. You burst out laughing, mostly from sheer relief from being able to form thought again. “You must at least know how to hem?” 

You nod, a little offended, “Of course! I made this dress!” He looks you up and down, and you feel yourself stand up a little straighter, an almost subconscious reaction to his looking, while smoothing the pockets down as surreptitiously as you can for his inspection. 

“Made it fill out just right too.” You squirm on the spot in response, you can’t work out if you should be offended at being reduced to essentially free labour, or that you somehow find it totally acceptable just because he’s made your tummy flip with that one little sentence. 

“Well, you know, just thought maybe, maybe I could just get you to take a look and let me know what you think I should do.” 

“Oh uh, sure thing - Yes, absolutely, I could do that.” He grins at you, in reward for your compliance, before pressing a hand into the small of your back, directing you to the elevator. 

It’s overwhelming, the feel of being with him in such a confined space, focussed on the door in front of you for the mere seconds between floors. It’s all you can do to keep yourself together, the smell of him, the feel of his hot palm still against your back making your thighs clench. Elvis seems to be in a world of his own, fingers gently rubbing your back, humming under his breath. You’re not quite sure why you’re both pretending you really were going to look at a torn jumpsuit. But when you start to follow that line of thought you can feel your heart-rate increasing and panic start to rise - it’s not that you don’t want to do whatever he has in mind, just that you’ve never done this causally before. All you can do is quickly attempt to distract yourself by curiously assessing the decor. 

Somehow though, mere minutes later, small talk and short tour over, you find yourself sitting at his dressing table, jumpsuit in hand as you peer at the split straight along the seam of the crotch. 

“Well, er, Elvis, here’s the thing - I think it might be beyond repair - or, at least it’s beyond what I can do with a travel kit.” He nods, solemnly, from over your shoulder, his sideburn hair tickling your cheek, and hands starting to span across your ribs. 

“Hmm, guess I’ll have to send it to get mended then,” He tugs it out of your grip, balling it up and throwing it off to the side.

“Oh, well - yes, I’m sure someone will be able to - oh!” His hands creep further around your ribcage, until he’s just ever so slightly brushing his fingers further against your breasts. You shiver as his breath gets heavier on your, puff of laughter at your immediate physical reaction sending goosebumps across your exposed skin. He brushes your hair out of the way, gently tucking it behind the other ear, while his other hand remains spanning your ribs, thumb moving in delicate small circles. The small part of your brain not totally preoccupied solely with the sensation of him behind you wonders if you should be doing something yourself, turning around maybe, but before you can move you feel him lean back in to your neck, lips barely two inches from your skin.They brush against your ear and you squirm away, shuddering a little. 

“Oh,” Elvis laughs, “That’s a no for that, huh, sweetheart. I’ll have to pull out my special moves for you then.” You nod, rapidly, starting to explain that he definitely should pull out any and all moves just nowhere near your ears, but as you’d swung your head up you’d made thunking contact with his nose. 

“Shit! Son-of-a-mother -“ He swears loudly as he takes a sudden step backwards, knocked off balance, and you whirl around apologies tumbling out of your mouth, 

“Oh god, oh, god I’m so sorry.”  He’s pulling his glasses off of his face, a red mark spreading from the bridge of his nose up to between his eyebrows where your head had knocked them hard against his soft skin. “Oh god! Your face!” He blinks at you for a moment, rubbing at the redness, before his face breaks into a crooked grin.

“Can’t say I’ve bumped noses in a while.” He’s still rubbing the spot even while he’s joking and you can’t bring yourself to laugh with him, the embarrassment rolling down your spine, your cheeks turning red to match his. 

“Oh god, maybe I should just go,” You stand from the chair, looking around for your purse, “I don’t know what I was thinking - this is clearly a sign, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.” He rushes to stop you, hand grabbing your forearm, 

“No, no, please, look - I’m fine now,” He gestures to his face, “bet it won’t even bruise.” You shake your head, “No, look, we just needta be face to face.” His hands grip your waist, eyes telling you to stay, and once he’s sure you’ll stay in place, he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, “See, you can’t headbutt me from here, just needed to look at each-other.” You nod, gently, barely moving your head. 

“Well, you might be right,” His thumb brushes over your lips, hand moving to clasp the back of your neck, drawing you closer. You stumble towards him until you’re pressed against his front, so close that you’re practically inside his jacket, resting against his shirt. 

Your eyes fall closed as his lips meet yours, he’s hungry for it, capturing your mouth, tugging your lip between his teeth. You feel a little like you’re being devoured, melting against him, his other hand moving to your ribs again clutching you to him and holding you upright. You stumble backwards when he starts to walk forwards, still gripping your body and still pressing his lips against yours. 

He pushes you back onto the bed, leaving you to scrabble backwards up towards the pillows, watching him strip his jacket off.  He immediately goes for his shirt, rapidly unbuttoning it. He’s slimmer than you thought, all tan lean corded muscle, with just a little layer of fat over his stomach and you find your mouth watering as you take in the soft covering of his chest hair. He seems to assess the situation for a moment, before unbuckling his belt, taking his plush velvet trousers off, unveiling his lack of underwear, half-hard cock flopping out. 

You try to swallow your moan, he looks you over, reassuring;  “Don’t worry, I got the sound locked darlin’. S’not like the house, but it’s good enough. You can be as loud as you like.” You almost immediately put it to the test when he hikes your dress up to your waist, exposing your panties, yelp escaping. You stare up at the red canopy, breath hitching as you take in the mirrored ceiling - you can’t take your eyes off of it, watching Elvis’ naked back, the small scattering of moles as he moves. His hands curl around, deftly unzipping your dress even from underneath you, loosening it enough to pull it off. Your head rolls back, watching your nakedness be slowly unveiled. You’ve never been body shy but somehow being unable to look anywhere but at yourself makes you a little self-conscious, and you’re glad when Elvis moves himself back up to be covering you.

“What’d ya want honey?” He slides a hand down, pressing a long, masculine finger against the soft cotton of your panties. “You going all shy on me?” You shake your head,

“No, no - I don’t, I don’t know,” He pushes the fabric into you, gathering the wetness already pooling there, wet patch slowly spreading.  “Take - take ‘em off, let me, need them off Elvis, please.” He grins, finding your slight desperation amusing, 

“Hmm…but they look so pretty doll,” He circles your clit through the fabric, “You sure?” You nod, 

“Uh-huh, please -“ He hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down your legs, getting you fully nude. He chucks them onto the floor and you flush at the sound of the wet fabric hitting the floor. Elvis soon distracts you though, resting on his elbow alongside you, pointing out how you look in the mirror. 

His hand drifts over your bare stomach, somehow gently but firmly brushing over your skin and up to your chest, large sweeping circles - your breath catching as his hand trails closer and closer to you breast, rings warmed by the heat of his hand rubbing against your skin. Every time you think he’s going to touch you, properly, he returns to circle your stomach and if you could form a thought you’d ask him to speed it up, but as it is his mouth is attaching to your collarbone, gently sucking down, little bruises forming. Finally, your back arches to meet him. He finally brushes his fingers over your nipple, tickling, you gasp as he lightly pinches one, an immediate jolt of heat to your core. His hands brush down your sides, leaving you panting, before he wriggles down, pulling your legs with him, so that you slide down the bed, situating himself between your thighs. He runs his hand through his hair, finger-combing the fluffy hair backward, eyebrow arching, 

“You ok with this baby?” You nod, not quite able to believe Elvis Presley is offering to go down on you but there he is, gripping your thighs, placing his head between your legs. “C’mere then.” He kisses the soft skin there, a little line across to the crease of your thigh. His breath tickles and your thighs tense in response. He murmurs something you don’t quite catch before he moves to press a kiss right above your clit. His fingers move from your legs, one hand remaining where it was, the other coming to stroke your labia, spreading your inner folds, feeling where your slick is already sticking your skin together. 

“Lawd, hon-ey, you always get this soppin’ wet?”

“Oh god, Elvis, I haven’t - no-one’s ever,” You can feel him chuckle, the vibration making you gasp, but he doesn’t respond, simply wets his lips and dives in. His hands hold you open for him, and he manhandles your legs to keep them open and apart, your burning core on display for him. He flicks between lapping at your inner and outer folds, his fingers coming up to replace his tongue, scissoring into you, so that he can lick up to your clit, sucking onto the sensitive bundle of nerves.He’s clearly skilled, and the wetness, the newness of it - the shock of it all only adds to your growing heat; and the way you feel yourself start to tremble as the sensation grows.

Your hands clutch at the sheets, trying to avoid gripping his head even as your hips thrust up in response to his tongue spearing into you. You can’t look away from the image of his head between your thighs, enjoying the way his back ripples and how when he pulls back the bridge of his nose and eyebrows become visible. Reminding you who it is between your thighs, as if you could forget from the feel of his famed lips. His tongue licks its way up and down your folds, before tongue-fucking into you. His fingers move back as soon as he moves his tongue away, constantly touching you in some way. Your hips jolt and he moves his mouth up to suck on your clit; everything coming to be too much. He licks you through it, your stomach clenching as the pressure grows out from your core, orgasm starting to fizz through your veins, ringing in your ears.

You shudder as it hits, Elvis leaning back a little, rubbing gently with his fingers, your hips rolling in pure pleasure, until he leans in again to kitten-lick your sticky, wet, skin. Your thighs suddenly slam together of their own accord, and you feel his cheek on your thigh before you hear his “oof” at the sudden impact.

“Oh god, not again.” You try to sit up to apologise but you’re still breathless, and with your core still tensing from your orgasm you struggle to even manage to get onto your elbows. “Oh-no.” Elvis pops his head up, so you can both see each other properly, growling at you. Your head rolls back at the sight of him, sweaty upper lip and a mix of unidentifiable shiny wetness on his chin. 

“You are trouble.” He quirks a grin, as if to ensure you know he’s at least half-kidding, shaking his head at you, “‘m starting to think I needta tie you down if I don’t wanna be battered.” You gasp, back arching and he chuckles at your visceral reaction. “Not right now though, huh, gotta - wanna be in you.” You nod frantically, affirmative words spilling out of your mouth. He slides back down to rest his head between your legs, holding your thighs open with a tight grip. 

“Now, you be nice to lil Elvie, you hear me?” He whispers right against your sensitive folds, breath tickling, talking directly to your vagina, as if it might behave of its own volition, “I don’t think you have hands… or legs… but just in case. No more hittin’ me. Got it? I ain’t afraid to make you behave.” You burst out laughing when he does a high-pitched voice in response to himself, “Yes, sir, Elvis, sir, I’ll behave.” making it seem as if your vagina had just agreed with him. He’s smiling when he pushes himself back up, pulling himself to flop down on the bed at the same height as you, before rolling over, pushing an elbow onto the other side. He tugs on his cock for a second, before lining himself up, sinking into your hot, soaking, heat. 

He groans, pressing into you as you adjust to his length within you, feeling the sweat on his chest rub against your skin. He’s slow at first, building up to forcefully thrusting into you, famous hips  moving at speed. 

“God, you’re tight, don’t do this often do ya honey?” You shake your head, and then nod, trying to respond, “Not too tight though huh, doll, you’re just - just perfect. Perfect for me.” He punctuates each sentence with a hard thrust, your response catching in your throat - practically choking yourself.  He drags you back against him, hands gripping your hips. Jolting your body back and forth as he slams into you, shifting you to fuck into you at just the right angle. You have no idea what noises were coming out of your mouth, only that you were certainly babbling something. He seemed incapable of silence himself, a stream of curses and praises continually falling out of his lips. 

He pauses in his thrusts, preoccupying himself with stroking a finger the length of your vulva, feeling where your bodies are joined. Your eyes fall closed, lost in the sensation of him. He moves back again, sliding his hand up to brush his thumb across your already sensitive clit, your back arching in response. He grunts above you, his thumb keeping pace, and his cock thrusting in at the same speed. It doesn’t take long before the way he’s knocking perfectly into your already sensitive core sends you into orgasm again, clenching down on him and shuddering, your mouth agape and your eyes shuttering closed as the waves of pleasure crash over you. 

He drags you back from it, hips stuttering at a rapid pace, lasting only a minute before you can feel him jumping inside you, his face screwed up tight, mouth opening as he rapidly pulls out, shooting his cum across your stomach. He groans in pleasure, and you tip your head up to meet him, kissing him as aggressively as you can manage in your post-orgasmic state. By the time he pulls away, rolling off to the side and flopping onto his back, both of your lips are bitten and red-raw. You make eye contact in the mirror, watching both of your chests heave as you try to form coherent thoughts again. He’s covered in sweat, fluffy hair starting to curl at the ends with the exertion of it all, and you stare at your own flushed state for a moment, wondering how on earth you’d ended up here. 

“So, don’t needta tie you down then, honey, just gotta tire you out.” Elvis’ voice was gravelly, and you murmured an agreement, 

“I don’t normally flail so much.” You admit, somewhat jokingly. He grins, rolling onto his side to rub your stomach, avoiding his cooling ejaculate, 

“Oh so I’m just special huh?” You nod, 

“You must know that.” He stares at you, and you try to convey with your eyes the depth of feeling by which you mean it, not wanting to scare him by saying it out loud. You think he gets it though, when the next moment he’s smiling a little bashfully before rolling off the bed and stretching beside it. You take the chance to assess him all over again, now that the heat and speed from before is over, taking your opportunity to drink him all in, from the tan line high on his thigh, to the slight swell of his tummy all the way up to his little nipples, and to the slight shadow forming on his chin. He seems to appreciate the attention for a minute, smirking at you, before he wanders off to the ensuite, 

“You hanging around for a lil bit, sweetheart? D’you wanna come to the show again tomorrow?” You wonder if it was intentional that he’d ask this where he couldn’t see your expression, calling out from the bathroom as he starts to turn on the water. But, in what world, in what universe could anyone turn down such an offer.

“If you’re inviting me!” He hums back in response and you feel a giggle rise in you at the next thought that pops into your head, “‘sides, got a promise of a tour didn’t I - Red’ll be expecting me.” You hear the faucet suddenly turn off, although the shower stays running and the next thing you know he’s striding out from the ensuite at that, bouncing you on the bed from the force of his jump onto it, growling as he pins your squirming, laughing self down, his knees on either side of you. He’s struggling to maintain a straight face as he manages to capture both of your wrists in one hand, the other tickling your sides as best he can,

“You better not. You want a tour, I’ll give you a tour. You hear me, little girl?” His hands feel like he’s only playing but his face was deadly serious - you nod rapidly in agreement, 

“Yes, yes, Elvis - yes, I was only kiddin’ I swear!” You manage to make out through your giggles and he growls again, ceasing the tickling and pressing a kiss to your cheek, still practically smothering you, leaving little teasing nibbles down your neck. 

“Fuckin’ Red.” He mutters against your skin, 

“I swear I was only messin’ with you.” He huffs, but nonetheless kisses your lips once more, before releasing your hands and clambering off. He holds out a hand, 

“C’mon - the shower will be hot now. Get you all clean and tucked up in my bed, somewhere no-one else can try and steal you.” You grin as you allow yourself to be pulled up, happily going with him and excited to see what the next day’ll bring. 

#elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis x reader #big daddy elvis #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader #writing prompt game #elvis presley fanfiction #be-my-ally

[frenshushutoast]

how you met dokyeom

tags: first meeting, pre-relationship, fluff, gn!reader x dokyeom, non idol!reader x non idol!dokyeom, they're university students, fluff word count: 670 words notes: this is unedited and i did get a little carried away but, i hope you like this!

you were late. like, ridiculously late.

you woke up ten minutes before your lecture was meant to start and you had to get ready in record time, sprinting to class in a whirlwind of absolute panic. you hated being late, hated walking in to everyone's eyes on you and awkwardly taking your seat. your anxiety could not handle that. not today.

you were a mess, too. you found out that there was a bright electric blue toothpaste stain smeared on your cheek by checking yourself in a stranger's car window. you just let out a long, lamentable sigh and continued your run to campus, determined to get there on time. or at least just not embarrassingly late.

you still didn't want to let a bad morning make your whole day bad– you could go and get your favourite cookies from the campus coffee shop later and maybe get some work done, too. the day doesn't have to be bad, you decide. surely nothing else will happen and you'll get to your lecture smoothly–

it was right when you firmly decided to turn a new leaf that you ran straight into a man with a surprisingly hard chest.

"oh, fuck–" the man crouches down almost instantly to pick up the book you hadn't realized you dropped because wow, this man was beautiful.

you come back to yourself after seeing him picking up your books and mumbling apologies ("wow, i'm sorry, um. i really wasn't watching where i was going! i guess hannie-hyung was right to say i should stay away from sports...")

he straightens up and hands you back your book, apologies fading when your eyes meet and you shake his (unfairly warm and very big) outstretched hand. you realize that it's probably weird that you haven't said a single word and only stared at him like he was some kind of angel this entire time.

he probably was, faces like that don't just happen.

"um–" you clear your throat, clutching your books closer to your chest nervously. "it's not your fault! thank you...?"

he gives you the warmest smile you think you've ever seen in your whole life, corners of his eyes crinkling with the force of it. you positively melt at the sight of it. "seokmin! what's your name?"

you can't help but smile– you quickly realize that he must just have that kind of effect on people. like the personification of standing in a warm patch of sunlight on a cold day. "(y/n)!"

"(y/n)..." he says the name like he's testing it out in his mouth. you find you quite like the way he says it– you kind of want to hear him say it all the time. huh. "why were you in such a rush anyway, (y/n)?"

"oh i–" oh. right. right. "wait. i have a lecture to get to!"

you check your watch, eyes widened almost comically. seokmin gestures to your textbook and says: "professor song?"

you look up, momentarily distracted. "uh, yeah? how'd you know?"

you huffs out a little giggle. "your textbook! his lecture was cancelled today, you know."

your shoulders droop, eyes furrowed in confusion as you dig your phone out of your pocket, mumbling a low seriously?

sure enough, there was an email from five hours ago alerting you that the lecture was cancelled. "oh."

"yeah, 'oh', but..." you look up to see seokmin grinning at you, head tilted to the side slightly. his voice turns the slightest bit shy when he says, "do you want to get coffee instead? there's a coffee shop near here."

suddenly, the fact that you had sprinted out of your apartment this morning for a cancelled lecture doesn't seem so bad. at all.

"yeah! yeah, i. i would really like that, actually."

the tips of his ears turn the slightest bit red and his eyes sparkle–your heart feels like it's blooming when you walk alongside him; words littered with smiles that hurt both of your cheeks and quiet, shy giggles over warm coffee.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fluff #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt fluff #svt writers #svt fanfic #seokmin x y/n #seokmin fluff #dokyeom #dokyeom scenarios #frenshushutoast writes

[themissusmarvel]

Soft Caresses

Steven Grant x Fem! Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ Only Please! Soft fluffy smut, fingering, penetration, unprotected sex, subtle Marc appearances, the cuteness that is Steven with a v

Summary: You’ve been seeing Steven for a few months now, after he slowly built up the courage to ask you out. He was late to a date and has come to your flat to say sorry. (Sorry if this is a bit rough, I haven’t written in a while and may be rusty!)

An hour and a half.

That’s how long you sat at the restaurant waiting for Steven to show up.

He had asked you yesterday if you wanted to meet him for dinner, and you had agreed because it had been a while since you had gone out with Steven. Usually it was late night phone conversations or cuddles on the couch while watching a movie.

So after dressing up and taking a taxi all the way there only to be embarrassingly stood up, you were fuming by the time you got home.

What was so important that he couldn’t send you a text or give you a quick call to say that he wouldn’t be able to make it? Isn’t it common courtesy? Especially when you have been seeing each other for a few months now!

There was suddenly the sound of soft knocks on the door to your flat, breaking your train of thought. You glanced at the clock. It was nearly 10 o’clock. Who was stopping by at this hour?

You let out a long sigh as you made your way to the door, unlocked it, and turned the knob. The door was barely opened before you saw the thick, dark curls, tanned skin, and deep brown eyes. He had the most apologetic look on his face, and he was grasping a heart-shaped box of chocolates so tightly you thought it was going to crumple in his hands.

“Steven…what are you doing here?” You asked, placing a hand on your hip.

His gaze swept over you, assessing the damage. Then his face crumpled. “I’m so sorry love, I know you’re angry with me. I just… I wanted to say sorry. I didn’t mean to… and I uh, I wanted to give you these.”

Steven pushed the box of chocolates towards you, dropping his head and casting his eyes to the floor. You could tell he felt disappointed with himself and was upset about what had happened.

He flicked his gaze up to meet yours, looking at you through his eyelashes, and you felt all the anger melt away from you. Your body relaxed and you motioned for him to come in. How could you stay mad at him, when he looked like a sad little puppy dog standing at your front door?

Steven raised his head and searched your face for confirmation. “You sure? I can go. I just wanted to stop by…”

“Steven,” you interrupted. “Come in. I want you to come in.”

He nodded once and walked past you as he entered the flat. He paused while he waited for you to close the door and lock it once again, then followed you into the front room.

You sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside you. Steven took the hint and moved to join you, placing the box of chocolates onto the coffee table.

He glanced around the room briefly then relaxed into the sofa with a sigh. “I am sorry, love. You know I would never… I feel terrible you were sat there waiting for me…”

You reached up and softly placed your fingertips on his full lips. He was spiralling in his thoughts and insecurities, and you wanted to reassure him.

“Steven, it happens, don’t worry about it. You’re here now.” You smiled at the gentle man sitting in front of you. “Yes, I was angry with you but I’m sure there was a good reason why you didn’t show.”

Steven raised his own hand and you watched his fingers intertwine with yours as he pulled your hand away to place a kiss in your palm.

“You’re always so good to me. But I um, I’m… not sure what happened. One minute I was getting ready to meet you, the next I was on the other side of London. It’s the strangest thing…”

You tilted your head slightly in confusion at what a Steven was talking about. Was he blacking out? Losing chunks of time without any explanation? That was definitely cause for concern, but you pushed it aside when you caught the lost look in his eyes.

“Everything will be alright. Okay? You going to be okay?” You gave his hand a squeeze to try and pull him back into the moment.

Steven turned his head and shifted his body so he was completely facing you. “I’ll be alright, darling. I have you, don’t I?”

He truly made you so happy. You felt cherished, loved, and like you were everything to this man. Steven made you feel like your heart was about to burst.

You didn’t know what look you had on your face, but he was looking at you with an unmistakable heat in his eyes. It made your heart rate speed up a little and your skin started to feel warm. He rarely looked at you this way. It was usually shy glances and him being unsure. This was different. This was making you feel like he wanted to devour you.

“Steven,” you murmured. Even your voice sounded breathy at the way his eyes were taking over your body.

“Hmm,” he hummed. His voice seemed to have gotten rougher. Deeper.

Steven slid his fingers out from between yours and trailed his gentle touch slowly up your arm. It sent a shiver down your spine and your skin aflame. Your chest was almost heaving by the time he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck.

Without a word he pulled your face to his and your mouths crashed together with more passion than you had ever experienced with him. This wasn’t the soft brush of his lips that you were used to. This was his mouth getting to know every bit of you. His tongue exploring and tasting you.

When Steven pulled away he rested his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Who was this man? The flash of confusion on your face was suddenly matched with his and… did you see that right?

Steven had closed his eyes very briefly, you thought it was just him trying to gather himself after what had been an earth-shattering kiss. But when he reopened his eyes, it was no longer hunger you saw there. It was that shy softness you knew so well.

You backed away a bit and glanced over his face. He must have sensed your sudden unease because he looked away from you and caught his own reflection in the mirror. It was like he was warring with himself. Steven would look to you, then to the mirror, and back again.

Finally, he settled and tangled his hand into your hair. “I don’t know what got into me then, love. But… I’m going to do that again if that’s alright? Can I… is that…”

With a giggle you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled his body towards you, this time taking his lips yourself. It definitely felt different the second time, hesitant and unsure.

But slowly he started to regain confidence as he allowed you entrance, and your tongue danced along his this time, bringing a groan from deep in his throat.

That urged you on to playfully nip his bottom lip as you pushed him backwards to lay on the couch. You went with him, carefully laying your body along his.

Feeling his muscular body beneath you was electrifying. You had seen glimpses of his chest on those mornings after falling asleep watching a movie. He would always carry you to bed and nestle in beside you. But you couldn’t wait to see more. Feel more.

Steven slid his hands down your back, and they came to rest along the swell of your ass. He gave you a gentle squeeze, and you tilted your head so you could whisper into his ear.

“Do you want to touch me, Steven? Do you want to feel what you do to me?”

With your words you felt his length harden beneath your hips. Oh fuck, he feels huge. You raised your head as he nodded his in response.

“Yeah? You wanna touch me? Tell me Steven.”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and moaned. “Yes, please. I do. Oh god… but I, I don’t know…”

His voice trailed off as you reached back for one of his hands and flattened the back of it against your palm. His hand was so much bigger than yours, and his fingers so much thicker, but you didn’t mind showing him what you liked.

“I’ll help you babe, just don’t think about it. Do what feels right.”

Steven nodded his head and watched you in wonder. You slid his hand down your stomach and beneath the waistband of your joggers. Thank goodness you decided to change when you got home earlier.

When his fingers finally reached your sex you jumped at the feeling of the rough pads of his fingertips. Steven tried to pull away but you held him fast.

“I don’t want to hurt you, love. Is it hurting you?” He was so concerned that it made your heart melt.

You shook your head. “It feels good, Steven. Keep going.”

With his hand still being guided by yours, you manoeuvred his fingers through your folds, gathering the wetness at your entrance so his fingers began to glide over you. Steven seemed to be concentrating, trying hard to remember what you were showing him instead of enjoying the moment.

You decided to let him explore on his own, so you pulled your hand away, bracing yourself on either side of his broad shoulders.

He continued moving through you, feeling how wet he made you and how your body responded to his touch. When he discovered your swollen clit you made a slight gasp and pushed yourself into his hand, which elicited a confused response from him.

“Do that again, my love. Do circles around there… oh god.” You moaned at the pleasure he was giving you, and you saw his eyes start to darken with lust.

Again, there is was. That shift. Like another part of Steven took over and was about to consume you.

But before you could even think about it or ask what was going on, Steven slid his fingers around and slipped one inside of you. Slowly he pumped it in and out while applying pressure to your clit with his palm.

“More,” you whimpered, unable to control yourself. Steven answered your request by pushing in a second finger. You groaned at the feeling of him stretching you, slowly bringing you closer and closer to your end.

You continued grinding on his hand while he curled his fingers inside of you and made you cry out. Fuck, how was he so good at this all of a sudden? Didn’t you have to guide him just a moment ago?

Then suddenly, Steven stopped and pulled his fingers from you slowly, and slipped his hand away from you. You found his eyes, looking back at you with lust but also trepidation.

“Can I…” he cleared his throat. “Could I try something with you?”

“Of course darling, what is it?” You asked him gently.

“I, um, wanted to… could we, uh, have sex? Maybe? Is that alright?”

A corner of your mouth lifted at this sweet man. You sat back on his thighs, and undid his belt. “If you want to do that, Steven, we’re going to need these off.”

He nodded repeatedly, and you moved out of the way so he could stand. After undoing the button on his trousers they fell to the floor, so you could see the swell of his erection through his boxer briefs.

You stood up in front of him, which caught his attention and stopped what he was doing. Slowly, you slid your hands under his shirt and over his muscled stomach and chest. When you reached his shoulders, you removed his shirt and tossed it to the side.

As you moved to remove your joggers, Steven reached out and slipped his hands into the waistband. “Let me, please.”

His hands trailed down your legs as he slowly undressed you. You laid a hand on his shoulder as he helped you take them off, and it was an intoxicating sight to see him kneeling in front of you.

Steven softly kissed the front of each of your thighs before rising. Then as he stood to his full height, cupped his hands over your hips and began to remove your top. Once it had slipped over your head and ended up somewhere in the room, he pulled you into his arms and twisted so that he could lay you on the couch and he settled on top of you.

“Is this okay?” He asked. Steven was tracing patterns over your collarbone and down around the swell of your breasts. It was making you ache for him.

“Steven, please. I need you inside me.”

His brown eyes flicked to yours, and everything seemed to happen to quickly. His lips met yours and he poured his heart into it, showing you how happy he was and how much he cared for you.

And while he kissed you his hands removed both his underwear and yours. You broke the kiss and reached one hand down to run your fingers over his hard cock. Steven shuddered at your soft caress. Then he took that hand in his, interlaced your fingers, and brought your joined hands above your head.

With his free hand he lined up his erection with your entrance, and slowly pushed in. You gasped at the size of him and he stilled, but pushing your hips forward to take him in deeper, Steven continued to fill you until his hips were seated against yours.

“Oh my god. Oh my… god love, you feel amazing.” He was looking at where he had disappeared inside of you, entranced at the marvel of how he had fit.

You raked your fingers into his hair and pulled his head to yours, where you stole a quick kiss. “Keep going, Steven. Take me, darling.”

He rested his forehead on yours as he began thrusting in and out of you, savouring every sensation as he went. It was the slowest and most intimate sex you had ever had. Steven was worshipping you, memorizing every moment and noise that you made.

It warmed your heart and the very bottom of your soul to be with this man in this moment. He loved you more than you had even thought was possible, and now he was showing you just how much he loved and trusted you.

You felt his thrusts becoming more erratic and his cock pulsing inside of you, and you knew he was close. “Steven, you gonna cum inside me? You gonna mark me as yours?”

A switch flipped. His eyes closed and his hand let go of yours, one lifting your leg behind the knee so it rested on his shoulder, and the other found your clit as his thumb moved over it. “Steven!” You moaned. He was now hitting you so much deeper and your orgasm was building so quickly your brain went foggy.

He was no longer making love to you, Steven has switched to fucking you. He was thrusting into you hard and fast and you were seeing stars.

When you reached the peak, Steven met you there, and you both let out low groans as you came together. He rode you slowly through your orgasm as he came down, until he collapsed on top of you, both your chests rapidly rising and falling.

You reached up and started playing with his hair, the thick dark curls felt silky on your fingers as your other hand moved up and down the hard planes of his back.

Steven sighed contentedly, and lifted his head to leave little kisses on your forehead, nose, and cheeks, until finally settling his lips on yours.

“I love you so much,” he whispered against your mouth.

You smiled. “And I love you too, Steven.”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

You drew your eyebrows together and waited for him to elaborate.

“Have I, um… have I ever told you about Marc?”

#steven grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n #moon knight #marvel #marvel smut #steven grant smut #moon knight smut #marc spector

[evermourning]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 - lee minho

pairing: lee minho x reader (bewitched series part. 8)

genre: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, comfort, slice of life

wc: 1.4k

warnings: language, mention of bugs, lowkey crack moments, if you don't know how to tie a tie delude yourself, mentions of alcohol, not proofread

a/n: and here we are! the final part to my first series. thank you so much for the love and support! i've had so much fun <3

you were embarrassingly infatuated with your boyfriend.

as your fifth text to him went delivered and not read (he was busy grocery shopping), you flopped onto the couch, sighing loudly. the house was so quiet without him here. you could hear every little sound - the rattle of the air conditioner, the creaks in the wooden floor, the lovely aria of the birds outside, the soft chatter of the streets from your perch near the window.

the cats were usually much louder, too. but now, soonie was curled into your side, a low purr emanating from him as he slept happily. the other two were nowhere to be found. if minho was here, he'd sit next to you, one long arm wrapped along your waist while his non-occupied hand gently stroked one of his cats' fur. but...he wasn't. he wasn't and you wished with all your being that he was. you didn't care he was literally ten minutes or so away and literally doing something as simple as shopping. you missed him so bad.

it was such a funny feeling to you, being in love after avoiding it for so long. you believed that you weren't going to find love, that you were falling behind your friends, but all of that changed completely when you met minho. it only took you three nights to fall in love with him. three whimsical and delightful nights, forever engraved into your memory.

night i: you were on your way back from work when you noticed something. an old lady, probably in her early eighties was taking bags and suitcases out of her car. however, she was on the smaller side and was struggling significantly. you immediately rushed over to help...but even you couldn't carry everything. embarrassing. really embarrassing.

"do you need any help?" a masculine voice asked. you turned around and fought insane urges to drop your jaw in shock. was that really the lee minho standing in front of you? after you nodded, still in some state of shock, he grabbed the boxes and bags you couldn't, and as a team you worked together, being thanked profusely by the old lady. as you were leaving, you called after him.

"you're lee know, from stray kids...right?" when he nodded, you had to do a double take. "i um, just wanna say hi. i'm a fan."

"you're a really lovely looking fan," minho replied, smiling at you. you felt your cheeks heating up. "are you in a relationship or anything like that? i don't really want to overstep your boundaries."

"oh, no. i'm not in a relationship, trust me." you shook your head frantically, mentally cursing yourself for it.

"good! then...can i take you out on a date? how about...tomorrow?" he asked, grinning. you accepted graciously, the realization that the lee minho asked you out. you felt like a giddy child for the first time in years.

that night, you did not sleep.

night ii: you sat at the table, one leg crossed over the other, frantically checking your phone to make sure you got the time right. minho was nowhere to be found, and you'd been sitting at this secluded restaurant for a good fifteen minutes. you'd already ordered yourself a drink. you figured if he was a no-show, you could get something nice before going home and getting drunk as hell.

all of a sudden, minho practically dashed in, his tie askew.

"i am so sorry, yn. my practice ran a little late, i ran over here so fucking fast you don't even know." you chuckled at his words, before motioning to his tie.

"may i? your tie being untied is making me relatively annoyed." he nodded, laughing at your comment. you leaned over and put your nimble fingers to work, tying his tie expertly and quickly. you were so goddamn close to him, you could feel his breathing just barely on your cheek. when you looked up, meeting his dark, beautiful eyes, you noticed he sported rosy cheeks.

the date was a massive success. you'd hit it off with him instantly, having both many things in common and very interesting differences. as he was walking you home, chatting amicably about something jisung had done the other day, you mustered up the courage to ask him...

"would you like to stay the night? i've got an extra room, and you're probably not too close to where you live." you looked away, flustered after that. but he reached out a hand to gently steer your face back to his.

what you saw next was forever engraved into your hippocampus.

the golden rays of the setting sun reflected in his chocolate brown eyes, like a mosaic of umber and carob with spattered flecks of california gold. the corners of his (very kissable) lips were turned upwards as he thought about your rash offer. your hair blew slightly in the chilly wind, causing you to shiver slightly. minho noticed this almost instantly, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders.

"let's get you inside, okay? it's really cold out here."

once you were inside your house, you handed him back his jacket, when he shook his head.

"keep it."

"what?!" you shrieked. "this is probably so expensive..."

he shrugged. "i'll just buy a new one." minho giggled at your incredulous look. "if you keep it, i'll stay here tonight.

you grabbed the jacket quickly, eliciting a roar of laughter from minho.

"then it's settled. lead me to the spare room?"

night iii: you woke up the next morning to the smell of freshly cooked pancakes and bacon, which was really weird because you lived alone. and then suddenly, you remembered there was a man in your house. opening the door with a yawn, you saw minho making breakfast, wearing your apron.

"what do you think you're doing?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. minho turned, smiling at you.

"good morning. i was a little hungry, so i was gonna make myself something small to eat, but then i thought you must be awfully hungry too." he handed you a plate, stacked with heavenly-looking food. you thanked him, sitting down and taking a bite.

"holy shit. this is the best pancake i've ever had."

minho blushed at the compliment. "you really think so, hm? try some of the bacon."

each bite you took was like ascension to the heavens as you scarfed down the food. once you were done, you started washing the plates. when minho tried to help, you swatted his hand away.

"you made me breakfast, which was just so incredibly generous of you, so i'll clean up. it's my house, anyways."

minho stayed for an hour or so longer, until he had to leave to get to his building. as you were walking him out, something moved in the corner of your peripheral vision. you screeched, hiding behind minho when you realized it was a cockroach.

"don't piss your pants, it's just a cockroach." he teased, laughing.

"i don't give a rat's ass what type of bug it is!" you said, eyes squeezed shut. "please tell me you're good at killing bugs..."

"i am, i assure you. i'm experienced." he winked, and grabbed his shoe to ruthlessly smash the poor bug into the floor.

you did not feel bad.

after he cleaned it up, you gave him a huge hug, thank yous and please do that everytimes spilling out of your mouth. he sighed, smiling with that look that made you want to go feral.

"should i just give you my number in case those scary little cockroaches come back?" he asked.

"please do."

...

that was almost a year ago. now, you and minho were happy together, this relationship marking the beginning of your healing phase. now, he was on your mind 24/7. the memory of his lips pressed against yours, how his hand just fit into yours like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. these and many more memories swirled together as if they were a chorus - each memory, the good and the bad was a different vocal part, blending seamlessly until they had created a new sensation - your burning love for your boyfriend.

you were utterly, truly lovesick.

@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

#ren writes!! <3 #evermourning #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know #lee minho #lee know skz #lee minho skz #stray kids minho #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #bewitched set...entry viii