#will have to wait until i have access to screens again... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hyunsvngs · 1 month

Text

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 - college bf!han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 3k

synopsis: there's an hour until your roommate comes back and your boyfriend is looking particularly delicious.

a/n: HI :3 i wrote it.... jisung not a complete sub.. i wrote it. as always thank u miss may and miss ems for proofreading for me <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: daddy kink, soft dom jisung maybe?, choking, sub reader, messy sex, reader has a wap, oral (m and f rec), doggy, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk! jisung has a dirty mouth

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

there’s a scoff from beside you, and you jump in surprise when jisung wails, flinging his legs around. “baby! you’re not even watching the movie!”

you’re not, and you can’t even deny it. you’ve been staring blankly at your laptop screen where it sits on the edge of your twin bed, and it feels like you have seen this studio ghibli film with jisung a million times. you huff and try to curl up into his chest, and he makes a noise again, nose nudging your head incessantly until you look up at him.

“are you bored?” he asks, eyes round. his bottom lip is jutted out into a pout, and you want to kiss it, want to litter kisses around his face until he’s blushing and giggling in his shyness.

it’s been a few months with jisung now. he was so cool when you first met him, all baggy jeans and beanies and nail polish, and he even lives off campus. he has his own bedroom there, and you honestly wish you two were stationed there right now instead of anxiously waiting for your roommate to arrive, because you’d been thinking about sex with jisung.

of course you had. jisung had arrived to yours with his signature wide grin, messy curly hair and oversized flannel falling off his broad shoulders, and you’d immediately thought of jumping his bones. you let him into your room, curled up on the bed with him and let him choose the movie, and while you’d been waiting for him to make a move, he seems to not even be thinking about it.

you’re not bored, you just want your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth.

“‘m not bored, hannie,” you shake your head solemnly. he tilts his head in confusion, and you feel bad for thinking such unsavoury thoughts about him. it’s not like you can help yourself, he just fucked you so good last time, and your eyes are going half lidded just from the thought. your legs on his shoulders, the headboard of his bed hitting the wall, his mouth on your tits, his fingers on your-

“oh my god,” he bursts out laughing, eyes crinkling. “jagi. are you being dirty right now?! i just wanted to watch a movie-”

“i didn’t say anything!” you whine, slapping his shoulder playfully, and jisung’s still chortling. he can’t help it, shoulders shaking, and when he finally calms down your cheeks are burning crimson. you grimace, embarrassment eating you whole. “sung-ah.”

he looks at you with a cocky grin, raising his eyebrows. “baby, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. i’m thinking about fucking you all the time. i’ve been hard since i got here, to be honest.”

the way he says it is so straightforward, so blunt, that it makes you scoff out a laugh. you love the way he can make you feel so relaxed by just being him, and so you cuddle closer, wiggling against his chest in delight when he kisses your forehead.

and then you realise.

“you- you’re hard… right now?” you ask, licking over your bottom lip. it’s hard to tell in his huge baggy jeans, but if you stare hard enough you think you can see his length pressing against his zipper. you feel jisung nod against your head, and you sigh, rubbing your thighs together with need. he’s hard right now, and his hands move to the denim to adjust himself. “i- can i suck you off, sungie? i want to so bad.”

the film has been forgotten. you still hear the audio blaring from your laptop speakers, and your eyes move to look at the screen to check the time. you still have an hour until your roommate gets back.

“fuck. yeah, you can,” jisung nods eagerly. his hands move from his jeans to allow you access, and you’re quick to undo the button and the zipper that keep you from your boyfriend’s cock. he’s hard in his boxers, a wet patch of precum soaking through the black fabric, and you pull his jeans down all the way to discard them on the floor.

jisung pulls his shirt up to above his tummy for you to see him in his whole, and you blink wordlessly at the sight of him, mouth agape. above his boxers, a v-line leads upwards into his slender waist before panning outwards again at his broad shoulders. his abs clench and unclench under his skin in anticipation, and you run a fingernail down one, watching him quiver. he grins cockily, but his chest is heaving already, and you get so irritated at his confidence that you lean down instantly to mouth over his clothed erection.

“shit,” jisung whimpers, hand moving to clutch the headboard behind his head. “fuck, yeah. suck daddy’s cock, my baby. pull it out, c’mon, c’mon-“

“jisung,” you huff, eyes stern when you look up at him. he pushes his fringe from his eyes with his free hand, licks over his lips, and you’re still glaring. “let me play.”

he does. he lets you mouth and dribble all over the fabric of his boxers until they’re soaked through, material almost turning transparent with your spit, and then you finally yank the waistband down to rest underneath his balls. they’re so little, so round and full, and they almost push his shaft upright for you with how swollen they are.

you lick over his balls and he gasps, thighs twitching. “mm, god, fuckin’- hnnnfg, hot little mouth, baby,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut, and you’re so desperate you can’t help but lean upwards to suck his cockhead into your mouth. you run your tongue on the underside of his tip, right where it’s sensitive, and his hands fly to your hair so fast you think he might fuck your throat. “don’t be mean to me, yeah? not today. not today, my baby, be good for daddy.”

“mm,” you hum, letting his shaft fall from your mouth. with a grip around his base, brushing past his dark pubic hair, you slap it against your tongue a few times. jisung’s eyes roll back into his head. “i’ll be good for daddy. daddy likes me dirty, huh?”

“f-fuck yeah, my baby,” he nods, enthusiastic, and when your head ducks down again to taste him his knee jolts so hard he almost kicks you. “daddy loves you d-dirty, ooh- oh, that’s- baby, makin’ my cock feel so good.”

you let him tighten his grip onto your hair, and then you bob your head. jisung’s length always presses at your throat uncomfortably but you can’t help but crave the pressure, sucking hard every time your head drops and letting your lips muse wetly over his shaft on the way back up. jisung’s hips kick up when his cockhead finally kisses the back of your throat and you gag, eyes watering, and he’s quick to pull you off of him by your hair.

a string of your saliva connects you to his length as you pout up at him in question. “i’ll cum, don’t- don’t do that,” he says, breathless, and you giggle. it’s hoarse but jisung still smiles as if you’ve charmed the socks off of him, and you blink in question when he finally takes his flannel and his tee off, dropping them on the floor. he’s so delicious, honey skin stretching over tight, lean muscle, and his abs tense while you ogle him.

in a brief second, you’re pinned to the bed, jisung’s lips against yours. jisung always kisses filthy, tongue all over your lips and drool slicking down to your chin. you let him force his hands to your sleep shorts, and he’s impatient when he yanks them down, rings cold against your skin. you’re so whiplashed by the whole situation that you pull your t-shirt off yourself, breaking the kiss, and jisung looks like he’s about to cry.

“oh, baby,” he murmurs, eyes wide and fixated on your chest. your nipples pebble against the cool air and you can’t help but writhe on your bed, smiling bashfully at your boyfriend. before you can get insecure or even the slightest bit embarrassed jisung’s shoved his face in your chest with a deep exhale. his curly hair tickles you and you laugh, thighs kicking up. “daddy’s home, babies.”

“jisungie!” you slap him on the shoulder playfully, and he retreats with a little huff of amusement. finally, his eyes drop lower, and his hands smooth upwards on your thighs. he licks over his bottom lip, eyebrows raising, and then he’s slowly moving closer.

“mm, let me taste it first,” he murmurs, and you squeak when he wraps his hands underneath your asscheeks, yanking you down the bed. he wastes no time, curly strands covering his eyes as he smothers his face in your cunt. jisung’s a little theatrical when he eats you out, you think - he positively growls into your pussy and almost cums in his pants every time - but he swears its a reasonable reaction.

he swirls his tongue around your clit and then he’s pursing it between his pretty lips. he flicks it with the tip of his tongue, and you moan, high pitched and airy. when your hands move to his hair, tugging the strands a little, he finally sucks the bud hard. it feels like he’s driving you insane, your thighs twitching and brain floating off into a less embarrassed, entirely more horny headspace.

“a-ah! ah, daddy! daddy, my pussy, ‘s- daddy, more,” you whine, and he can’t deny you ever. his tongue flicks over your hole and then he licks a fat, wide stripe up your folds. his mouth dribbles your wetness as lubrication to dirty your pussy up even more, and it practically talks to jisung when he sucks your folds into his mouth. “more! moremoremore, gimme, gimme, pleaaaaase!”

fucking his tongue over your clit again, jisung growls, and the vibrations ring through your body like you’ve been struck by lightning. you grind your hips upwards into his mouth, and he only shakes his head against your pussy enthusiastically, smearing spit and slick over your heated skin.

“hnnfg- ahhhh! ah, my pussy! feels s’good, my pussy feels so good, jisungie, daddy,” you babble, drunk with it. jisung’s hips kick against the bed once, twice, and he whines against your pussy when you wrap one thigh around his pretty head to keep him smothered. you ride his face with it, and jisung just can’t - he can’t handle it, tapping your thigh incessantly in a wordless expression.

you unhook your leg from his head and he moves quickly, leaning over you to give you a chaste, wet kiss tasting entirely of you before he’s pushing you onto your side on the bed. he slides behind you, chest pressed up against your sweaty back, and you feel his cockhead rutting against your hole.

“i guh- i gotta fuck you now, i’m sorry, so sorry,” he’s ever so respectful, huffing out a breath against your shoulder. “c-condom? want me to- to use a condom, baby?”

“n-no,” you slur, pushing your hips backwards. you feel drunk on him, needing more than him to fuck your cock into you until you’re crying with it. “fuck me, please. p-please gimme it, sungie.”

he slides home in one thrust. jisung’s not huge - he has a delicious case of boyfriend dick, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp every time. you’re still not used to it, and you make an internal vow to fuck your boyfriend ten times more.

“see? you d-don’t- don’t have to be mean to me,” he whimpers at a particular slick thrust. his hand goes to your inner thigh, pushes your leg up at an angle that has you shaking, pussy squelching around his cock. “daddy will fuck you good, see? i can do it. i can do it.”

“yeah! yeah, mm- d-daddy can, daddy can,” you babble, hiccuping on a wet noise from your throat, and jisung groans. he shifts closer to you, grips your thigh a little harder, and the bite of his rings into your skin makes you gasp. his hair tickles yours on the back of your head, and then his spare hand shuffles from underneath your waist to your throat and grabs. you can’t help but keen. “daddy!”

“ssh, s-ssh,” jisung murmurs, and you have half a mind to tell him he’s being just as loud, if not worse. he’s panting and whimpering behind you, hips rutting his chubby cock into the slick hole you’ve provided for him. “baby, you’re fuckin’ wet. wet little hole, s-so- so little, so tight on my cock, i- fuck, baby. i c-can’t!”

he can, and he proves it by gripping your throat a little tighter, his balls slapping against you harder. the change in pace ruts his cockhead against that spongey spot inside of you and you wail with it, incoherent wet noises leaving your lungs.

“y-you’re fuckin’ my pussy so good, daddy,” you croon, eyes watery with it. he fucks you a bit harder in apology for your strained voice, but it only makes you moan louder, fingers moving upwards to grip the pillow under your head. you think you could rip it with how good he’s fucking you, and you feel his thighs bounce behind your legs to fuck you harder.

on a particularly wet thrust, jisung’s dick slips out of you, and you whine at the same time he does. he fucks it against your hole messily, trying to slide it back in, and he huffs impatiently. your hole gushes desperately, the wetness leaking onto where jisung bumps his cock into you, and it squelches messily.

“you’re too wet, she’s talkin’ to me,” he moans, but you know he loves it. you grind your ass against him a little more to tease him, and he sits upright sharply.

“sungie, no- no, keep trying, daddy!”

he tugs at your ankle impatiently and you flip onto your stomach, letting him crowd into your space. “c’mon, c’mon, baby,” he ushers, and you hear the slick sounds of him stripping his cock behind you. he whines with it, and then his spare hand taps your ass impatiently. “hands and knees. let daddy fuck you from behind, god, please.”

you have to. you’d do anything he wanted, and so you prop yourself up, back arching into a perfect position for him to slide back home. he can see a little better like this, and you fuck your ass back onto his cock for him to watch the slick slide of him entering you over and over. when he grips your ass, spreading your asscheeks for a better look, you hear him let out a stuttered breath and you know you don’t have much time left before he’s done.

“i gotta- baby, you gotta cum for me, yeah?” he says, quiet, and then he’s leaning over you. his chest presses against your back, and the sensation of your skin rubbing against his peaked nipples makes him lose concentration for a moment, steady pace haltering. “fuck! fuck, baby, you gotta cum, i’m gonna cum, i will-”

“d-daddy, please! i’ll try, i’ll try- i- i’ll be good, i’m good,” you babble, hand moving down to rub sticky circles on your clit. you use your wetness to lube it up a bit more, indirectly brushing against the base of jisung’s cock. jisung lets out a keen at the touch, his arms wrapping around your waist to bounce you backwards as he fucks into you. the pace gets quicker, and you feel his cock throbbing incessantly inside of you.

“still not used to fucking this cunt, n-not used to how perfect you are, baby,” jisung murmurs, and his language makes you gasp, gummy walls clenching down around his chubby shaft. “oh! oh, i don’t think i ever will be, baby, fucking clench on me again!”

you do, almost subconsciously with how your fingers speed up on your clit. it’s wet and messy with how much you’re gushing around him but the circles seem to be enough to get you close, your tits bouncing as you move on your boyfriend’s cock. before you know it, you’re cumming, a loud keen leaving your lips as you soak his shaft. you’re sure there’s a white ring of your cum forming at his base right now, soaking his pubic hair and dripping to his balls, and the thought makes you clench down harder.

“fuck! yeah, baby! that’s it, like that, clench on me, good g- oh, oh! oh, i’m gonna-”

his body practically collapses on you when he cums. you realise he must have been holding it back for a while because he wails too, cock pumping heavy loads of his cum inside of you. when you turn to him, his eyes are rolling back into his head, little pants of air leaving his lungs as he fills you up straight to your cervix.

thirty seconds later, jisung’s still collapsed on top of you, his head leaning on your shoulder.

“jisungie,” you say, and then you have to clear your throat. “jisungie. you okay there?”

“i think i died,” he mumbles, and a bit of drool leaks to your skin. you giggle, reaching back in an awkward position to ruffle his hair. “pussy’s too good. oh, when’s your roommate back?”

“um,” you blink at your laptop, still playing the movie from earlier. the device is hanging off if the bed and you make a conscious effort to kick it back on with your foot. regardless, it’s only been twenty minutes and you want to laugh. jisung’s just too sensitive - he always gets too worked up to go very long. “like, forty minutes or so.”

“ah, great, i’m not moving,” jisung cuddles closer to you, cock still soft and resting inside of your walls. after a short while, he inhales, and you feel his eyelashes tickling you as he blinks rapidly. “wait, we only fucked for twenty minutes?!”

you ruffle his hair again, a fond smile on your face. it’s an awkward position, but you’ll do it for your boy. “don’t worry about it, sungie.”

“mm,” he responds, unsatisfied. “fine, but next time we’re going for twenty hours.”

“huh?!”

1K notes · View notes

moonjxsung · 7 months

Text

When the Rain Stops

Read part 2 here.

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader

W/c: 9.8k

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of cheating, brief comment about calories, use of pet names, sex in a public establishment (no one is around), oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, squirting

Synopsis: A passing storm during a road trip forces you to seek shelter in a little dive bar on the outskirts of town, and you find yourself drawn to the bartender.

18+. Mdni!

•

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, wringing out your stringy wet hair onto the black carpet below you. You know the weather forecast predicted rain- hell, your family even warned you about it when you left their place this morning. But true to your bad luck, you severely underestimated just how much of it. Now, you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere while you wait for the storm to pass.

Okay, maybe not technically the middle of nowhere. But a shitty dive bar surrounded by nothing for miles upon miles isn’t really something to write home about. You know it could be worse- at least here you have access to unlimited alcohol and mozzarella sticks. But a quick look around tells you that’s not enough to redeem it for you.

The place is undoubtedly small, pool tables and red leather booths housing most of the space. Where there’s vacancy at the tables, the servers haven’t bothered to clean up yet, passing by stacks of dirty plates and silverware to serve guests sitting at other tables. A group of men chatter amongst themselves at one of the pool tables, and a single man is sat at the open bar.

You settle on a spot at the open bar, sitting two barstools away from the man and drying your feet on the rug below you.

“What can I get you?” A voice overhead says dryly, and you respond without looking up.

“Just a Coke, maybe? Diet, please.”

You hear the man scoff a little as he retreats, and then you finally look up, slightly offended at his reaction.

He’s walking away from the bar when you see him, only the back of his head visible from behind the counter where you’re sat.

As he disappears into the back to grab a coke, you pull your cell phone out of your bag. You wipe raindrops off the screen with the sleeve of your sweater, pushing the lock button to catch up on unread texts. There are only two, both from your parents, warning you about the rain and requesting you turn back for the night.

You shoot them back a text, assuring them you’ve found someplace safe to stay, and that you won’t be driving in this rain until the storm blows over. But the truth is, you’re rather unsure of that yourself. Your phone currently reads at 26% battery, the storm is predicted to go on for several hours, and there are seemingly no hotels nearby to stay the night. Chances are, you’re going to be here for a good while.

A veiny hand places an iced glass of your Diet Coke in front of you as you finish sending the texts, and you look up to lock eyes with the bartender.

He’s rather tall, with light brown hair that falls just above his soft round eyes, totally contradicting the sharpness in his jawline and nose bridge. The man is dressed formally in a white button-up shirt and a black tie, rolled up halfway at the sleeves, the top two buttons undone to reveal just a glimpse of his broadened chest.

“Is that it?” He asks. His stare is cold and serious, and you find yourself a little intimidated in this proximity to him.

“Yes, thank you. Do you happen to have a phone charger?”

He scoffs again.

“This isn’t a convenience store.”

“I’m aware,” you reply with narrowed eyes. “I just need to make a few calls.”

“There’s a pay phone in the back.”

It’s your turn to scoff. He’s calculated with his words, like he’s trying his best to get you to leave the bar. But you’re as stubborn as they come, and it’ll take a lot more than rude customer service to make you leave in this storm.

“Look, I’m not using a pay phone unless you’re supplying quarters. You don’t have an iPhone charger?”

He rolls his eyes.

“No, I don’t have an iPhone charger. And I’m not supplying you with anything- this isn’t a convenience store. Unless you want a vodka sprite or some chicken wings, I think we’re all done here.”

Before you can reply, he turns on his heel, making his way back to the kitchen and disappearing behind the double doors once again.

The doors swing in and out a few times before coming to a halt, and you stare through the circular window as he resumes cooking something in the kitchen.

Unpleasant- the personalities of everyone in your parents’ neighboring town, miles away from your apartment in the city. It reminds you precisely why you seldom visit these parts.

“Don’t take it personal,” a voice from beside you says. He shifts to face you from his bar stool. “He’s always like that.”

The stranger is well-dressed in a coat and slacks, his black hair styled neatly out of his face.

“Surprised he keeps any business at all with an attitude like that.”

“The locals don’t get the worst of it,” he continues. “Mostly us city-dwellers he despises.”

A small smile forms on your face. “You’re from the city too?”

“Yeah!” he replies enthusiastically. “I’m just passing through for the weekend.”

“Me too! Though I got stuck on the way back home. Doesn’t seem like we’ll be able to leave for a few hours.”

“Oh yeah,” the man says. “It’s really bad out there.”

You shift your attention to the large window at the back of the bar- the rain is still coming down in sheets over the glistening black pavement, nothing visible beyond the blurry traffic lights as the trees melt into an abyss of darkness. The roads appear empty and the parking lot seems fuller than usual for a bar like this.

“I’m Jisung, by the way,” he says finally.

You turn back to him and nod once. “Y/n. It’s great to meet you.”

As Jisung indulges you in conversation about city life, you learn he’s a businessman who visits the area on Saturdays when he gathers in the town with old friends. He also lives alone in a high-rise apartment, he’s single, and he comes to this particular dive bar for the chicken wings. Ones he insists you have to try, so you waive over the bartender to place another order.

“Excuse me, could we get an order of chicken wings?”

The bartender scribbles something and walks away quickly, hardly acknowledging you the way he did earlier.

“You know,” Jisung says. “Maybe the rain isn’t such a bad thing.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve been talking to the prettiest girl in this bar for the last 30 minutes. Beats being stuck in traffic any day.”

You feel your whole face turn a bright shade of crimson as he grins flirtatiously. Of course, the other way around stands true, too; his features resemble that of a model’s, and you're pretty sure the other girls in the bar have been eyeing him since you walked in.

Before you can respond, the bartender returns, setting a plate down in front of you and some silverware.

“Enjoy,” he says plainly, and he blinks a few times before leaving again.

“Jeez, it’s like he doesn’t even want to work here,” you tell Jisung.

He says nothing in response- he simply slides the plate over to you, ushering for you to choose a piece.

And you do, carefully balancing the saucy cut between your forefinger and thumb as Jisung taps his against yours.

“Cheers,” he says happily. “To the rain.”

The chicken is the best you’ve had in a while- in fact, you can’t recall having better food at any bar before this.

“Wow, you were right, Jisung. this is phenomenal!”

“It’s Minho’s recipe,” he replies with a mouthful of food.

“Who’s Minho?”

Jisung nods in the direction of the bar, where the bartender is cleaning off a glass with a white towel. He raises his eyebrows once at you, as if to confirm he’s indeed the topic of conversation, and you turn back to Jisung.

“It’s really good,” you say loudly, with the intention of Minho hearing your compliment.

But Minho doesn’t respond, instead sauntering over and refilling your Diet Coke. His eyes visibly avoid yours, guarded, like you might instigate another quarreling match with him at any given second. But he also blinks rapidly as he pours your beverage, almost as if he’s trying not to say something himself. You analyze his mannerisms briefly, before brushing them off and enjoying your food again. He’s probably just still peeved from earlier.

“Do you want to play a round of pool?” Jisung interrupts your thoughts. “Not to scare you, but I’m kind of terrible at it.”

His eyes form little crescents as he laughs loudly, and the gloomy vibe in the bar seems to brighten from the sound alone.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

Three rounds in, Jisung is practically sober again, reeling off the high from winning three times against you. He might be terrible, but you’re evidently far worse than he claims to be.

“If I win this match, you let me take you out on a date. How does that sound?” Jisung says through laughter, though he’s entirely serious about the proposal.

Your cue stick prods at his ribs as you smile back in agreement. “And if you lose?”

“I won’t lose,” Jisung retorts. “Might as well pick a restaurant now.”

It’s a failure already, Jisung having only two stripes left while you’re still stuck with all 8 solids. He takes his aim at the cue ball, halting his laughter briefly to position his cue stick, and then cheering loudly as the ball disappears into its nearest hole. You watch with bated breath as he repeats the process, only this time, he misses.

“Hey,” you whine. “You only brought up our proposal midway through this round. At least I deserve a chance card!”

He scoffs. “Pick a chance then. I doubt it’ll get you 7 balls closer to your competition.”

You scan the room in deep thought, one hand resting under your chin and atop the cue stick; and then, the idea hits you.

“He’ll play for me,” you announce, nodding toward the direction of where Minho is wiping down the counter with a rag. He looks up momentarily, furrowing his brows when he notices the shared looks of you and Jisung.

“Get over here!” Jisung shouts, and a few patrons of the tables nearby encourage the invitation, cheering and applauding.

“No,” Minho says as he shakes his head shyly. “I’m busy.”

“There’s literally no one around,” Jisung retorts. “Come on, I know you can try at least once.”

“He’s scared he’ll lose,” you chime in. “And then you’ll have to take me out on a date.”

You swear you see Minho’s eyes narrow, and then he dries his hands with the same rag before setting it down.

“One round only. If I win, you tip double.”

“Deal,” says Jisung, and you watch Minho strut over to the table.

He’s taller than you assumed, towering over you in a black pair of slacks that lengthen his muscular legs. In preparation, Minho cuffs up his sleeves a few more times, buttoning them at the forearm and loosening his collar. You try your hardest not to stare, but it’s a seemingly impossible task, you quickly realize, as he takes your cue stick and positions himself over the table. One loose strand of brown hair falls into his face, and you resist the urge to move it out of the way for him.

The tables nearby are quiet as Minho pulls back, and then aims, the first of your solids rolling into the hole with ease.

“Oh fuck you,” Jisung groans, and Minho positions himself over the next target. Aim, roll back, perfect shot.

Tables around you begin to gather around yours, watching silently as Minho repeats his method. Aim, roll, shoot. The heavy sound of a solid rolling down the velvety surface, and the satisfying plink as it finds its home inside the hole.

Only two solids remain, and Jisung rests his head on his cue stick as Minho takes aim again. “I can’t watch. Someone tell me if he gets it.”

Aim… roll… and double plink- both solids disappear into the hole beneath them, effectively ending the match between the two. The patrons clap and cheer loudly, and Jisung throws his hands in the air, groaning in annoyance. “Fuck, man! You didn’t say you knew how to play pool?”

Minho shrugs, not a hint of a smile on his face as he retrieves the balls and organizes them on the table again. Jisung slides him a twenty, and he shoots you a quick glance, nodding once as he leaves the table and disappears back into the kitchen. You wonder again what he’s thinking about, briefly worried you’ve annoyed him by pulling him away from his work.

“Hey,” Jisung says, snapping you out of your tranced state. “Did you want to… maybe… get out of here? I know a hotel just a few blocks from the bar. We can walk fast.”

You think it over momentarily, weighing your options. The rain has no intention of stopping anytime soon, and you’re dying for a shower at this point. You’re also persuaded by the idea of a warm bed- not to mention, a warm body, for the night.

“Sure! I’m just going to run to the bathroom, I’ll meet you outside.”

The reflection in the mirror looks rough, staring back at you like this, desperately fixing the smudged makeup to the best of your ability and spritzing perfume. It’s been a while since you hooked up with a random person- especially one from a dive bar like this, but somehow you trust him. He’s funny, sweet, and he’s undoubtedly attractive. Plus, maybe a hookup will distract you from the current state of things.

When you exit, you make your way past the barstools, thanking Minho briefly. His lips curl up into a hint of a smile, and you can’t help but feel bad for him- he’s stuck in this shitty bar regardless, dealing with obnoxious patrons seeking shelter from the storm and cleaning up after their drunken messes. He may be a little rude, but it’s deserved, you think, as he cleans off your dishes.

Finally exiting the bar, you look around for Jisung, shielding your eyes from sheets of rain and squinting against the dark sky. The only source of light is a hanging light beside the wooden bar sign, and it illuminates nothing past your immediate eyesight.

“Jisung?” You call, being met only with the sounds of heavy rainfall and swaying leaves.

“Jisung?”

The wind blows violently, and you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering against the brutal cold. A man enters the bar beside you, keeping the door open and ushering you inside. And you do enter again, marching straight to the bar to search for Jisung.

“Excuse me,” you say to Minho, who is busy preparing a beer on tap for another patron. “Did you see the man who was here earlier? Tall, black hair, suit?”

“You mean Jisung?” He says without looking at you, and you perk up at his name.

“Yes! Did you see where he went?”

“Yeah,” Minho replies dryly. “I told him you changed your mind about him.”

“You- what?”

Minho says nothing again, filling another mug of beer and sliding it across the counter to a patron.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“He’s bad news,” Minho shrugs.

The words circle in your head for a good minute while you make sense of them. Minho ruined your chances at going home with Jisung- because he’s “bad news”? What does he even know about him?

“Why do you say that?” The question escapes your lips before you can ponder a more insightful one.

“I know him,” he replies casually. “Like I said- bad news.”

Frustration builds up steadily inside of you, turning your ears a bright shade of crimson and knitting your brows together in pure confusion.

“Who are you to determine that? You’re just a bartender! It’s none of your damn business who I leave with!”

He slaps a palm on the counter, not particularly hard, but enough to startle you a little.

“Actually, it is. I have a legal obligation to ensure my patrons don’t leave here inebriated behind a vehicle, or with strange men. And I saved you from the latter. You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?” You scoff. “Since I walked in here you’ve been nothing but a complete douche! There’s nothing to thank you for.”

“Then don’t,” Minho says. “I did my part either way.”

You stutter momentarily, settling on silence as he exits back to the kitchen and leaves you standing at the counter. The current state of things feels much like they did when you first entered- drenched from the rain, frustrated, and annoyed with the bartender. Only now, you can add cockblocked to the list, all thanks to Minho.

Two hours past the incident, your phone is completely dead. It’s just past 11 when the rain stills just for a little bit, and hoards of patrons file out of the bar to complete their short trips home. You remain stuck however, knowing the rain will pick up again if you attempt the six hour drive back right now. The bar is nearly empty at this hour, only two people sat at a far table, and the quiet swing of jazz music is now audible from your little booth. The peeling leather of the red seats below you is rather itchy, and the dim lantern hanging over you gives an orange-ish glow to the wooden table beneath you. You scribble mindless doodles on a stack of napkins in front of you, trying your best to pass the agonizing time spent here.

As you finalize the petals of a messy flower drawn on the napkin, a plate is set down in front of you, along with a glass of what you presume is Diet Coke. The smell instantly makes your mouth water- a cheesy omelet coupled with a side of french fries, steam still wafting off the plate and up into the glow of the booth’s lighting. You look up to see none other than Minho, and before you can protest, he slides into the booth across from you, setting a fork down on your napkin.

“You should eat,” he says. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“It’s on me,” Minho emphasizes, and you finally look up from your drawing.

“Look,” he begins. “Jisung has been coming here for years. He’s a cool dude, I get it.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly like I have a chance with him anymore,” you turn back to your drawing.

“He’s also married,” Minho finishes.

At that, your head snaps up at him, eyes widened in shock.

“What? But he said-”

“Yeah, that’s what he always says. It’s kind of his thing- picking up girls from the bar and taking them to that one hotel. I told you, he’s bad news.”

Silence washes over the booth as you swallow nervously. He shrugs apologetically, fiddling with his fingers as you begin to speak.

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t. I just didn’t want you to come back here crying tomorrow morning like the last girl did.”

It hits you like a ton of bricks- Minho really was looking after you. You’d almost left this strange dive bar, in the middle of nowhere, to sleep with a married man in a sketchy hotel. In hindsight, it was stupid you ever agreed.

“At least eat some fries,” he says, and you remember the plate in front of you. You comply with his request, taking a bite of the still-warm fries which almost melt on your tongue.

“These are really good,” you tell him. “He was right about the food, at least.”

“I’m kind of a big deal here,” Minho says as he leans back. He smirks- the first time you’ve seen an expression on his face tonight.

“I’m sure. How did you get so good at pool, anyway?”

“I work at a dive bar,” Minho says. “Girls ask me to play with them all the time.”

“Do they now? Your reluctance earlier says otherwise.”

“Oh they do,” Minho says. “When they’re as shitty as you, I’m the chance card.”

“Hey!” You shout. Minho giggles, his head thrown back as his eyes form little crescents in amusement. His laugh makes you laugh, too, the musical sound of it making your heartbeat quicken a little. It’s melodic and lighthearted, and you almost forget you’re stuck with him in this hell of a bar. There’s a glow to him at this time of night.

“Run it back,” you say as his laughter dies down. “And I’ll show you I’m not entirely terrible.”

“Better hope you don’t lose,” he says. “You won’t have a chance card this time.”

You still suck at pool. Minho clears the table in two quick rounds, and you’ve barely had time to practice with your cue stick because it’s hardly ever your turn.

“Alright,” Minho says. “I’ll let you have this turn. It’s boring watching you stand there all night.”

You approach the table, positioning your cue stick and taking aim at your first solid of the match.

“Use your thumb on the front hand,” he chimes in.

“Like this?”

“No, it should be between your thumb and pointer finger.”

“Like I’m pinching it?” You ask confused, and Minho chuckles.

“Here.”

Before you can adjust your cue stick again, Minho is behind you, one hand finding yours at the front of the cue stick and positioning it between your thumb and pointer finger like he explained. His hands are cold to the touch, and you’re intimidated having him this close to you. The other hand gently grips your elbow, moving it back a little as he scans the current trajectory. His face is dangerously close to yours, hair falling beautifully into his eyes as he moves, lips parted in concentration and the gentle flutter of his eyelashes as he blinks.

“There. Try now.”

You do as he instructs, rolling back and taking aim at your solid. Aim, shoot… and the familiar roll of your ball across the table. Only this time, it’s followed by the satisfying sound of falling into its respective hole.

“Oh my gosh!” You exclaim. “That’s only the third one I’ve gotten tonight!”

Minho chuckles, amused with your ardent reaction. “Your aim isn’t bad at all. It’s just your positioning.”

He turns to smile at you, momentarily unaware of how close he is to you. He’s towering over you, lips pulled into a mischievous grin as your eyes glimmer, still reeling off the high of scoring. For a brief second, your eyes flicker down to his lips, maybe a little too obviously, and then back up at his eyes.

“I should probably get back to the kitchen,” Minho says nervously. “I think that table ordered drinks like one round ago.”

“Yeah,” you reply, a little hurt that he’s leaving again. “I’m pretty tired, anyway.”

“You want something else to eat?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Good luck with work, though!” You avert his gaze fully now, mentally tracing the pattern on the rug below you.

When Minho leaves, you can’t help but mentally scold yourself. He’s just a bartender- one whose job is to serve you drinks and keep you out of trouble here. Not some friend to stand around and play pool with, regardless of how good he is, or hypnotizing it feels when he touches you.

At 1am, the bar is officially empty. The last few patrons leave after a round of gin vodkas, somehow getting an Uber despite the storm and leaving home for the night. You debate getting a room at the nearby hotel, but there’s no way you’ll be able to reserve a room this late, and your phone is still dead. It would probably be smart to attempt some method of getting home, but a part of you strangely doesn’t want to leave the bar anymore. It feels like a vessel into another universe, like time doesn’t exist here, like the storm or the ride home aren’t important as long as you’re sat in this little booth. You’re well aware the bar closes in an hour, but you’d rather wait until the hour to decide what to do.

Of course, part of it could be the bartender. You don’t want to like Minho, but you can’t quite make sense of him, either. He’s attractive, but reserved. He’s outgoing, but he has his guard up. And his walls break down when he’s enjoying himself, but he builds them up quickly again, and you can’t understand what triggers it. He’s much like the bar is- safe and homely, yet mysterious and alluring.

As you take a sip of your Diet Coke, neck craned to watch the show playing on the tv above you, a familiar face scoots into the booth across from you.

“Subway,” he says.

“What?”

“Jeopardy. Restaurants by slogan: Eat Fresh. It’s Subway.” He's referring to the episode of Jeopardy you’ve been watching for the past half hour.

“Everyone knows that,” you say with a smile.

You expect him to defend himself, but instead he laughs and shakes his head.

“Either our diet cokes are really good, or you’re not in any rush to get home.”

You sigh, swirling your straw around your third can of Coke and shrugging.

“I can’t make it home in this rain. The roads are closed going my direction, anyway.”

“Where’s home?”

“Far from here. In the city.”

Minho sits back comfortably now, arms crossed in front of him as he listens to you speak.

“City girl. I guessed it.”

“What gave me away?” You ask with a smile.

“iPhone charger request. And you drink Diet Coke exclusively.”

“I don’t like to waste my calories!” You argue.

“You’re in a dive bar.”

The two of you share laughter at your admission, and you can feel your cheeks heat up again. He sure knows how to make you laugh.

“I’ll probably get a motel room for tonight,” you say. “I think there’s one walking distance from here.”

“The nearest one is a shithole. I’m pretty sure someone died there, like, a few months ago.”

You exhale deeply, poking around at your drink with your straw.

“I have work on Monday. I have to get some shut-eye or I won’t be able to get home even if it does stop raining.”

Minho glances around the bar, observing the vacant tables and empty parking lot.

“Yah, Jeongin-ah!” He shouts suddenly, and a figure appears around the kitchen door, peering over at your table.

“Yeah?”

“Clock out,” Minho says. “We’re closing an hour early.”

“An hour? But what if-”

“No one else is coming in this rain. Just grab your stuff And get home safely. I’ll handle the rest of the tables.”

Jeongin’s gaze darts over at you quickly, and then back to Minho, as he nods without saying another word. He disappears into the kitchen once again, presumably to gather his belongings.

“You don’t have to close on account of me,” you say finally, a little unsure of his motives. “I can walk to the motel from here.”

He scoffs, sliding out from the booth and gathering a stack of dirty dishes from the table beside you. “I told you, it’s not safe. You can chill here for the next hour while I do closing procedures, and if it’s still raining, I can at least give you a ride there.”

“Why should I trust you?” You ask, hint of sarcasm present in your voice, but still cautious.

“Technically you shouldn’t,” he says with a smile. “But you’re free to call the cops on me whenever you want.”

“Nice try. My phone's dead.” You shoot him a smile, knowing he’s just messing with you, but wanting to entertain his little game nonetheless.

“Back room, third drawer in the file cabinet. There should be a phone charger there.”

You gasp and scoff. “I thought this wasn’t a convenience store!”

“It’s not,” Minho says, flashing you a toothy smile as he makes his way to the kitchen and calls out over his shoulder. “It’s a dive bar. My dive bar.”

Minho scrubs grease off the plates while you dry mugs on the counter adjacent to him and arrange them neatly in a row.

“So you haven’t left this town in years?” You ask Minho, continuing the conversation you’ve been having with him for the past 45 minutes.

“I drive to the city probably once a year,” he replies. “Hate it.”

“Why?”

“It’s too busy. I prefer simple. Simple people, simple places. A simple life.”

“How can you say that when you’ve never experienced it the other way around before?”

“Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Experienced a simpler life. Outside of the city.”

“Well… kind of. I mean, I moved out the second I turned 18. Grew up in the suburbs, but I traveled to the city every chance I got. I always knew I wanted to be there.”

“So you’ve never lived without the notion of wanting to migrate as soon as possible?”

“I guess not.”

He wipes his forehead with the back of his arm.

“I grew up in the city.”

“You did?”

“Hated it,” Minho says.

“Why’s that?”

“I was… easily distracted. Got involved with a lot of bad crowds. Never knew what I wanted. Worked as a private chef for a while, actually.”

You stop drying the mug you’re working on and look at him in utter shock.

“You?”

“Me,” he affirms with a chuckle. “I quit one random day five years ago and moved out here with every penny I saved. Obtained ownership of this bar and haven’t looked back since.”

You nod at his words, resuming your task as he shuts off the water.

“Takes some courage, I’ll give you that.”

Minho leans back against the counter and rests his hands on the table behind him. He smirks at you knowingly, and you can feel his eyes pierce through you out of your peripheral vision.

“What?” You say with a blushing grin.

“Nothing,” he replies. “You make a good employee here.”

“Yeah, right,” you say sarcastically, lining up the last mug on the counter and turning around to face him.

“I’d probably start a fire with running water or something crazy.”

He laughs again, shaking his head as you cross your arms.

“I need to close up the registers,” Minho says. “You want to hang out here until I’m done?”

“Sure,” you reply, and he bows slightly.

“I’ll try to be fast.”

Minho leaves to the back office as you wipe your hands with a dish rag, smiling in a daze.

While Minho counts change in the office, you explore the place a bit, making your way around the pool tables to the back of the bar. It’s then that you notice a tall staircase almost hidden away in a back corner. You slowly make your way up the stairs, tip-toeing so as not to startle Minho while he’s in the office closing up for the night. The creaky wooden stairs are muffled by the sound of the rain outside.

When you reach the top, you lean on the banister, looking down on the bar and taking in the view. It looks especially charming like this, illuminated only by the golden neon sign hung over the bar counter and reflecting off the big glass cabinets. Entrance through a small doorway leads to a single, dark room, and you turn on the dim light to explore the room.

There are only two things in the room- another pool table, visibly much older than the others downstairs, and an old arcade game. Upon closer inspection, you find that the game is a run-down version of Pac-Man, one of your favorite arcade games growing up. The giant yellow display is decorated with whimsical little drawings of Pac-Man and ghosts, and you can’t help but crack a smile at the sight, remembering the days you used to play as a kid.

You try the on switch, being met with a buzzing noise and the glow of red marquee lights, but nothing appears on the screen. Bummer, you think to yourself.

“It’s never turned on,” a voice says behind you, and you let out a shout, startled at the sudden noise.

When you turn around, Minho is standing with his hands in his pockets, a black blazer thrown over his button up shirt and a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Got it as a donation a few months ago and it’s lived up here ever since. I think it’d be a hit, if it actually worked.”

You turn back to the machine, observing the gentle hum from the static on the monitor display.

“It’s probably something with the PCB,” you reply, and Minho turns to look at you.

“The what?”

“The printed circuit board,” You repeat, setting your purse down on the floor beside you. “You have a screwdriver?”

Minho’s brows furrow together in confusion, but he nods slowly. “Yeah, sure.”

He leaves momentarily and returns with the requested tool, watching as you drop to your knees and unscrew the door to the cabinet.

“The lights turn on, which is a good thing,” you explain to him. “Means the monitor is still in good condition. So It’s probably just slowed down with general wear.”

When the cabinet door is off, Minho leans back against the pool table and observes as you pull out little parts from the myriad of pieces along the circuit.

“I figured,” You say, sitting back with a tissue in hand. “The EPROMs and ROMs are all warped.”

You pull a bobby pin out from your hair, gently wiggling the pins back in place before cleaning them off with a tissue.

Minho is lost as he watches you, mouth agape at the level of focus in your expression, tongue poking out between your lips as you move with purpose and determination. He realizes he may have undermined you this whole time, thinking secretly you’d crave a simpler life, when all along it was your intelligence and wit that drew you to the city. You’re as complex as the city, he thinks. You can’t be confined within the safety of these four walls like he can. And maybe he’s complex, too. But he’s not sure of himself the way you seem to be.

When you’re finished wiping down the acronyms of pieces, you fit them back in and screw back on the door. Minho watches curiously as you plug in the machine again, reaching around the frame for the switch and flipping it on.

The familiar hum of the screen starts up again, only this time it flashes a bright white color, and then displays PAC-MAN as soft music begins to play.

“Holy shit,” Minho says with a breathy chuckle. “That would've been thousands to get repaired.”

“Take it as a thank you,” you say. “For helping me out tonight.”

You hoist yourself up on the pool table and gesture to the display as he stares in awe. “Try it!”

Minho presses the red START button, chuckling when the familiar tune starts up and the game begins. He makes it through a few rows before getting eaten by a pixelated ghost, groaning when the game flashes GAME OVER and starts up another round.

But he doesn’t resume playing, instead turning around to face you with an unmoving expression.

“It’s drizzling,” he says, looking past you out the little window.

“Mhm,” you reply, though you’re not registering a word he's saying anymore. He’s dangerously close to you again, eye-level with you while you’re sat atop the pool table and not taking your gaze off him.

He seems to be trembling with anticipation, his gaze flickering down to your lips and back up to your eyes, hoping you’ll notice the motion and do something, anything with it.

“We should probably get going,” You say in a whisper.

He swallows cautiously. “Yeah.”

“Right now that the rain is a little lighter.”

“Yeah,” he says again, though neither of you make any move to leave.

“Thanks for tonight,” you reply, your eyes fully locked on his lips now.

Minho begins to say something, but his voice hitches in his throat, instead opting to swallow and and take a single step forward. And before you can say another word, his face tilts in front of you, gently pressing his lips to yours.

He kisses you gently, but he doesn’t waste any time, hands caressing your waist in his embrace and pressing up against you. He tastes like mint, his tongue mixing the flavor with the taste of Diet Coke still in your mouth. When he pulls away, he says nothing, searching your expression for a sign of how you’re feeling. You say nothing, too, eyes flickering over his serious gaze and waiting for him to break the silence.

When he still doesn’t talk, you reach out to grab his collar, pulling him toward you again. You kiss him first this time, slipping your tongue inside his parted lips to taste him fully, gripping his collar like you might lose him if you let go.

“Fuck,” Minho says, pulling away and breathing heavily. He squeezes his eyes shut, a nervous expression tugging at his lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t do this,” Minho replies. “With patrons. I just… I don’t know what got into me…”

His words trail off as you work little kisses down his jawline and neck, nibbling over his clavicle and humming greedily against him.

“What if I wanted you to?”

Minho stares at the ceiling as you work him, breath hitching in his throat as you trail even lower.

You pull away from him, tilting his gaze down to meet yours with a hand on his cheek.

“Say you don’t want to kiss me again,” you clarify. “Say it, and I’ll stop.”

His eyes narrow, piercing through yours as his hands rest gently on your upper thighs.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” Minho says seriously.

Your heart drops instantly, the anticipation that had built up pending his answer quickly fizzling as his words pierce through you. Your throat is dry, dozens of questions circling your mind, but nothing that comes to fruition amidst your disappointment. Guess it wasn’t the way you’d read into it all night.

“Okay.” Your voice is shaky, doing nothing to mask your disappointment.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” Minho says again quickly, his thumbs tracing circle patterns on your thighs. He leans in again, lips just barely grazing over yours as he speaks in a whisper. “I want you right here, on this table, right now. I want to do a lot more than just kiss you.”

Your heartbeat resumes, pulsing wildly as he scans your face for a reaction. You don’t grant him one through your facial expressions- rather, you pull him in by his collar once again, closing the gap between you and kissing him even harder this time. You can feel Minho smirking into the kiss, amused with how desperate you are at the simple admission.

His hands snake up your sweater, grabbing desperately at your lower back and pressing into you with his hips. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist, neck craned to the side for easy access while he begins to work kisses down your neck now.

“You really suck at pool,” Minho says as he smiles against your skin. His lips find yours again, giving you repeated chaste kisses as you tangle your hands in his hair. His lips feel familiar on yours- almost like you’ve done this a hundred times before. You can’t imagine a version of him you weren’t kissing like this.

“You’re calculated,” you say, smiling as you loosen the black tie around his neck.

“How so?”

“No phone charger, you only agree to play pool when a date with Jisung is on the line, and you’ve gotten me to stick around this long? You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

Minho throws his head back a little, his eyebrows arching as he laughs loudly.

“You might be a genius at fixing arcade games, but you don’t have everything figured out the way you think you do.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

He pulls away again, completing your task of loosening his tie, and then discarding it completely on the table beside you.

“It stopped raining 15 minutes ago,” he says slyly. “And suddenly you’re in no rush to go home anymore.”

His eyebrows are raised as his hands caress your thighs, moving higher until he’s grazing your hip bones with his fingertips. You don’t reply, suddenly hot at his words, and knowing he’s in fact entirely correct about it. It’s the opportunity you’ve been waiting around for all night- a break in the rainfall to get back to your car and make it to a hotel for the night. But paired against the other opportunity right in front of you- the one wearing nothing but a loosened white shirt and a devilish smirk on his face, you can’t do much but resort to the latter.

“You gonna spread for me?” Minho asks in a gentle teasing tone, his voice much quieter than before as your breath hitches in your throat. You nod, disregarding his first statement and doing as you’re told, slipping off your jeans and opening your legs just enough so that he can move his fingertips to graze your inner thighs. It feels dirty like this, so sinful for your skin to make contact with the velvety table below you. But you’re too dazed with lust, completely encapsulated by his movements to do anything except obey him.

“Good girl,” Minho replies, and your heartbeat quickens at the praise.

His hands dance in gentle back and forth motions along your thighs, gradually getting closer to your core, until his middle finger rests gently atop your clothed clit.

Your eyes dart down to his hand briefly, waiting desperately for him to touch you, to kiss you, anything.

“Look at me,” Minho says.

And you do, making eye contact again with his cold stare, piercing salaciously through your doe eyes.

Another smirk grows on his face as he crouches lower, and lower, dropping to his knees until he’s eye level with your aching pussy.

“Please…” you say, resting your weight back on your palms and spreading your legs further for him. Your breaths are labored, eyebrows arched up at just the thought of his tongue on you.

“Please what?”

“Please, would you… eat me out?” You request quietly, somehow internally panicked that he’ll decline.

But he doesn’t- instead he loops a finger through your underwear, pulling down in a sudden motion, eyes widened at the sight of you like this. You’re swollen with arousal, clit visibly quivering at the proximity of his breath against your folds. Your pussy is deliciously sopping for him, glazed juices painting your cunt all for him.

“God,” he breaks the silence. “You’re soaking. I could probably put it in now and you’d take it, wouldn’t you?”

You don’t answer him, tucking strands of hair behind your ears and looking down on him with anticipation.

“Okay,” Minho says with a slight chuckle. “Just relax for me.”

And without wasting another minute, his hands find purchase on your knees, scooting you closer to the edge of the table before finally burying his face in you. His tongue licks a long stripe along your pussy, smiling at the taste, before his lips latch themselves around your clit and suck harshly.

Your eyes roll back almost instantly, completely lost in the sensation of his tongue gliding back and forth over your folds like a starved animal. His plump lips remain latched to your clit, suckling with lewd wet noises and basking in the flavor of your arousal for him. As your legs tremble with pleasure, your hands quickly find themselves tangled in his hair, grinding him up against you and using his face to satisfy the delicious ache between your legs. Minho is well aware of your desperation, pulling away mere centimeters to grin at your reaction.

“Don’t stop,” you say, massaging his tresses in encouragement to keep going. Minho chuckles, this time latching on to your bundle of nerves with a gentle graze of his bunny teeth. He nibbles tenderly, eyes rolling up to watch your reaction as you sense the shift in his actions.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out frantically. “That feels so fucking good."

Minho smiles into your pussy, giving one small lick with his tongue before utilizing his velvety lips on your clit once again.

“Mmh…” he hums into your pussy, sending divine vibrations that tickle your arousal and instinctively make you moan for him.

“You taste so good,” Minho says between suckling. “I wanna make you cum for me.”

You nod down at him, rubbing little circles on his scalp and throwing your head back when he dips his tongue into your entrance.

“Oh god!”

At first he takes little kitten licks at your entrance, coming back up to kiss your clit repeatedly while you wait in anticipation. And then he brings a hand up to your entrance, sliding one finger in and working it around your pussy as he continues the unwavering attention on your bundle of nerves.

“Yeah, just like that,” you encourage him.

“You like it when I do both at once?” Minho inquires with a knowing smile.

“Yes, fuck” you can hardly answer him between the high-pitched moans that fill the dark room.

“Like when I fill you up?” A kiss on your clit. “Like when I taste you?” He laps at your folds. “Like when I fuck you like this?” Two fingers pump in and out of you now, smearing your arousal back on your clit which he wastes no time lapping up on his tongue.

“Yes, fuck Minho! Please, I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum, then. Want you to make a mess on my face.”

His fingers pump at an even faster pace while he sucks your clit between his teeth and emits a deep moan against your wetness. The vibration of his voice gives attention to the rest of your aching pussy, which finally contracts desperately around his fingers as you leak cum on his tongue. Minho licks you clean, chuckling against you when he takes your clit between his teeth again and hears you gasp in overstimulation.

Both of you say nothing as he stands back up, eye-level to you once again, his chin glazed in your juices. He rests his hands on your thighs as he did before, leaning in to press a sweet kiss on your lips and smile against you. Your hands toy with his belt buckle, tracing the pattern in your fingertips before slowly undoing the buckle and snaking the belt out from the loops on his trousers.

“Let me return the favor?” You ask against his lips, and he takes a sharp breath when you unzip his pants.

“Can I be honest?” Minho replies, and you pull away to look him in the eyes. His round eyes are dark, hooded with lust and curiously peering back at you.

He grins sheepishly, massaging your thighs with the palms of his hands as he speaks. “I think I’ve been hard for you the second you walked in here.”

The words make your heart flutter, suddenly much more aware of his contact against your skin, an insatiable desire to satisfy him and let him do whatever he may please.

Maybe you were the one mistaken all night- maybe Minho’s curt attitude and cold demeanor wasn’t in fact discourteousness at all. Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. And now here you are, each drawn to the other like moths to a burning flame, eager to explore and make the fleeting moment last in any way you could.

You laugh at his admission, moving strands of hair out from his face and tucking your face in the crook of his neck, where he presses a chaste kiss to your temple through nervous laughter of his own.

“Yeah?” You say finally. “What are you going to do about it?”

Minho narrows his eyes with a challenging expression, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you off the table, where he now towers over you and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Turn around,” he orders candidly. Your heart flutters again at the implication- him ordering you around like this when he’s already satisfied you once. But the tone he maintains is both sweet and inviting, and you know his intentions are the same as yours.

You follow his command, facing the pool table as he presses you against the edge, arms wrapping around your waist and peppering your shoulders in little kisses.

His hands snake up your sweater, where he now cups your breasts in his large palms and unclasps your bra. Once you’re bare, you hear him pull down his trousers, the muffled sound sending chills down your spine. If you weren’t dripping with anticipation before, you certainly are now. Minho latches his lips onto your throat, suckling just enough to mark purple bruises along your neck and collarbones. Part of you wants to deny him the little pleasure, reminding him that you have work on Monday and you can’t show up looking like you spent the weekend at a frat party. But the way his skewed front teeth nibble at your flesh stings delightfully, and you can’t bring yourself to protest it.

It’s then that you feel him behind you- his erection pressing into your upper thigh. He pushes into you with force, grinding softly on your skin and moaning against your neck when he feels you lean back into him.

One of your hands reaches out to palm him over the fabric of his boxers, and he lets out a soft whimper at the contact.

“Jesus,” he says “I can’t wait anymore. Prop your leg up for me, baby. On the- yeah, just like that.”

He guides you with one hand, moving your thigh up so that he has better access to your cunt as he palms himself more with his other hand.

“Is this okay?” Minho asks, now freeing his cock from his boxers and tapping gently at your entrance. The sensation of his bare flesh against yours has you in a daze, desperate to be filled up by him.

“Mhm,” you say, drunk off the feeling of him behind you like this.

“Gonna put it in now, okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing heavily as he jerks himself a few times. And without another minute to spare, he’s sliding himself inside of you, bottoming out almost instantaneously as your pussy takes him with ease.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out. “You’re so big.”

Minho smiles against your neck, pressing one chaste kiss and gathering your hair out from in front of your face.

He starts with gentle thrusts, panting in your ear and letting his hands wander all over your body as he moves. Your eyebrows arch up in pleasure, mouth agape as he picks up the pace, the wet sounds of his thrusting teeming all around you.

“God, you take me so well,” Minho breathes. “You’re so wet for me still.”

You can barely respond to him, one hand reaching up to tilt his jaw toward you so you can kiss him on the mouth again, your lips drooling with saliva and fucked-out with pleasure.

“I’m close,” Minho says into your mouth, pausing his thrusts momentarily to then pick up the pace again, much faster and with even more force.

“Ah- me too.”

As he moves in and out of your sopping cunt, one of his hands sprawls out across your tummy, pushing down with gentle pressure as he thrusts. You feel your insides contract at the sensation, now much closer to your release.

“Fuck, M-Min I’m gonna,”

He smiles against your neck again, amused with your reaction to the little move.

“Let go,” he says breathlessly into your ear. “I know you can give me a second one.”

His hand pushes down a little more, now tickling your insides with the constrained sensation against your abdomen.

And between his thrusts, you feel yourself let go around him, letting out a series of breathy moans as you cum on his still-moving cock. Only this time, you let go of everything, trickling fluids over him and the edge of the table, soaking the floor with remnants of you.

Minho’s orgasm follows just seconds after, breathing out melodic whimpers and moans as he feels you squirt, shooting ropes of his cum inside of you and fondling your breasts through his orgasm. He thrusts every last drop back into you, pulling out when he feels you shudder from overstimulation once again.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses as he pulls out. “You made a mess for me, baby.”

When you’re both finished, you’re quick to dress yourself, pulling your sweater back over your head and buttoning your jeans once again. Minho turns around while you get dressed, well aware that he was inside of you just minutes ago, but wanting to respect your boundaries now that you’re no longer being intimate. He gets dressed too, observing through the little window how the rain hasn’t started again in the entirety you’ve been up here. When you’re done, he turns back around, shooting you a little smile as you fix your hair.

“What?” You inquire, mirroring his expression as he stares back at you.

“Where have you been?” Minho asks simply.

“Hm?”

“Where have you been all my life?”

You cock your head a little, not missing the way he blinks nervously a few times after asking the question.

“Not the suburbs,” you reply with a smile. “That’s for sure.”

The gentle lull of jazz music rings through Minho’s ears as he wakes, glancing around to take in his surroundings. He’s sprawled out on the dingy red couch in the back room, still wearing last night’s clothes, hair glued to his forehead under a sheen layer of sweat. The clamoring of dishes startles him, and he furrows his brows together in annoyance as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Minho?” A voice says, and he shuts his eyes preemptively at the inquiry. “Did you…sleep here?”

When his eyelids flutter open again, he’s met with Jeongin, who’s already showered and dressed for his noon opening shift, clutching the till in both hands as he observes Minho’s disheveled state.

Beside him, the little folding table is in disarray, empty bottles of coke and peanut shells scattered everywhere. His mind goes back to last night- the arcade game, kissing you in the spare room upstairs. Fucking you over the pool table at ungodly hours of the night.

After you’d both finished, you agreed to stay in the back room downstairs until daylight when it was a bit safer to be on the road again. You and Minho chatted over diet cokes and a game of cards, between makeout sessions and desperate groping at each other in the dim light of the room. He wanted so badly to make love to you all over again, resisting the urge only because he didn’t want you to think all of this was just for sex. And maybe it started that way, when he fled back to the kitchen after helping you adjust your cue stick during a round of pool in an attempt to hide his raging hard-on. But somewhere along the way, he was also encapsulated by you- by your endearing obsession with Diet Coke, your ability to carry a conversation with a total stranger in these circumstances, and undoubtedly, your unique talent at fixing things.

It was just past 5 when you left, doing a double-take at Minho’s snoring figure to ensure he was actually asleep. You wanted to thank him- in fact, you stood over him for several minutes, playing the conversation in your head of how this would go.

“I’m leaving now- thanks for the life-changing sex and the free sodas. Call me if you’re ever in the city you despise.”

There was no good way to go about it- any which way, you knew that the two of you were destined for very different things, to live completely separate lives.

“You’ve never lived without the notion of wanting to migrate as soon as possible,” Minho had said to you earlier, and you knew he was right, even still longing to one day get out of this province, and maybe even this country. A simpler life scared you- exactly what Minho chased after. And perhaps by extension, chasing after Minho scared you, too.

The dive bar suddenly feels suffocating to Minho, still looming with the rotten scent of cigarettes and beers. For the first time ever, he feels boxed in, much too confined by the four walls and the foggy window at the back.

“I’m leaving,” Minho says, quickly gathering his bag and his blazer from off the floor.

“Where are you going?” Jeongin asks, still holding the till and scanning Minho with a worried expression on his face.

Minho isn’t sure where- in fact, he’s not quite sure about anything right now. All he knows is that you’ve sparked something in him, something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time. The days of working as a private chef paint vivid memories in his mind, days which he still had passion within him, trying new recipes late through the night and never ceasing to better his methods. A time that now feels one lifetime ago, much more complex in juxtaposition with this new life. Except maybe simple wasn’t the solution all along- for once, he’s determined to bask in all your complexities, even if it means sacrificing everything he left the city to pursue.

“I’m going to the city,” Minho says, combing through his hair with his fingers.

“The city? I thought you hated it there?”

Minho says nothing, sauntering to the door and fishing his car keys out of the drawer by the register.

“Oh, and Jeongin-ah?”

“Yes?”

“Call someone to move that arcade game downstairs.”

“The Pac-Man one? It doesn’t work-”

“It does now,” Minho replies. “Just promise me it’ll be down here when I get back.”

“Sure thing. But- how’d you get it to work?”

And without looking back, Minho approaches the double doors, keys in hand, no particular destination in mind. The gray clouds have nearly cleared up by now, fresh hues of blue painting the vast sky that overlooks the day ahead. The city calls out to him from afar, bustling traffic and busy roads clouded in pollution. But this time, he answers, in hopes you’ll be there, too.

*Part 2 out now, available here.

#stray kids #skz smut #lee minho #lee know #stray kids hard hours #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #skz x reader #skz hard hours #stray kids x you #skz #fanfic #Spotify

1K notes · View notes

luvrgrlellie · 7 months

Text

worship me

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: in which ellie catches reader watching porn

warnings/description: pure smut basically, meanish!ellie, dom/top!ellie, sub/bottom!reader mentions of porn, degradation kink, little bit of praise kink at the end, eating out (r!receiving), riding (r!receiving)

“yes- fuck just like that baby! don’t stop” moans and curses and dirty words filled the quaint bedroom you and ellie share. it’s an otherwise quiet tuesday morning and much to your disappointment, it wasn’t you and ellie making these sounds. ellie had left early that day to go out on patrol and you weren’t expecting her back until that evening. so when you woke up horny with an empty spot next to you in the bed, you groan in frustration, not wanting to have to wait until the end of the day to get the attention you so desperately craved from your girlfriend. you shift onto your back and spread your legs, bending them at the knees and bringing them out to either side of you to give you better access to your aching heat. you slip your hand beneath the flimsy fabric of panties and press your index finger to your swollen clit. you whine, circling it over and over and moving down every so often to gather slick from your hole. you slide ellie’s t-shirt you had on up and over your tits and begin tugging at one of your nipples with your free hand. you shut your eyes tight, pretending it was ellie’s hands on you - ellie’s fingers pinching your hard nipple, twisting and tugging at it to get those whines she loves so much out of you, ellie’s thumb on your clit, circling while you squirm in her arms and beg her to fuck you. you hear ellie’s words in your head- calling you her good girl, telling you how wet and tight and warm your pussy is, and how it belongs to her and her only. you slip two fingers into your tight hole, moaning at the stretch, but not at all feeling as full as you do with ellie’s fingers inside of you. yours are far too short and don’t reach that special spot in your gummy walls that ellie hits over and over again until you’re squirting all over the place. you pull them out and huff, unsatisfied and now really missing your sweet girlfriend and her magical mouth and fingers. desperate to cum and needing more stimulation to do so, you pull out your laptop and search for a site that you haven’t visited in a good while.

you are more than satisfied in your sex life with ellie (to say the least), as she is extremely attentive to your neediness and high libido and knows just what to do to get you off in a few short minutes. you really don’t need to please yourself that much as a result, and definitely didn’t use porn on a regular basis anymore to do so.

that’s why ellie was so shocked to hear those universally recognizable sounds coming from your bedroom when she got back that day. there was a scheduling mistake and they didn’t actually need ellie for patrol today, so they sent her home soon after she arrived that morning. and boy was she glad they did! just as she was slipping off her shoes and hanging up her coat, she heard you whine and let out a loud moan. “please please please fuck ellie i need you,” you cried, earning a cocky smirk out of ellie, as she now knew that you were still thinking of her and her hands on you, not the women fucking on your computer screen. she tiptoed upstairs and moved to the doorway of your bedroom, slowly pushing it open. you were turned slightly on your side, away from the door, staring at the laptop with one leg bent and lifted and one hand in your panties, furiously rubbing at your clit. you didn’t even hear ellie enter, so she stood there in silence for a moment, taking in the view of you touching yourself and feeling her own heat becoming wetter as she watched. when she decided she had embarrassed you enough, she cleared her throat, causing you to nearly jump straight out of the bed. you took your hand out of your panties and slammed the laptop closed in some sad and delusional attempt to hide what you did and shifted your eyes uncomfortably to the ones staring back at you in the doorway.

“hi els,” you say sheepishly, feeling thoroughly humiliated and wondering just how long she was standing there to watch you.

“hey baby” she says with a smirk and sits down next to you on the bed. she pushes some strands of your messy hair out of your face with a calloused hand. “what’ve you been up to this morning?” she asks mockingly with a knowing smile. you look down at your lap, avoiding the question, but she gently grabs you by the chin and lifts it so that you are forced to look into her eyes. “hmm? answer me.”

“I was- I just couldn’t wait. didn’t think you’d be home till later and my fingers aren’t as good as yours and I just wanted to cum so bad I’m sorry els-“

“Mmm and what made you so needy that you couldn’t wait for a couple hours for me to get home, hmm? what’s got my baby all worked up?” it’s clear that ellie’s teasing you on purpose just to get you even more desperate for her, so you let out a little whine in protest and ignore her question again. this time she grabs your face with both hands and leans in almost close enough to press her lips to yours. “hey. answer me when I talk to you or you’re not getting anything. what were you thinking about this morning?”

“about you els, of course.”

“what about me?” you roll your eyes at this and a smirk spreads across her face in response.

“about you… touching me… all over.” ellie slides her hands underneath your shirt and starts rubbing them up and down your sides on your bare skin.

“yeah? go on. what else?”

“ummm-you…” she’s rubbing her hands up and down your inner thighs now, getting dangerously close to your cunt but purposefully avoiding it none the less, “you… eating me out… with two fingers inside of me.”

“ahhh now we’re talking. is that what you were watching in your silly little video baby?” she grabs the laptop beside you and opens it up, ignoring your protests. the video you selected featured a more masculine, clearly dominant woman topping a more feminine, clearly submissive woman. she smiles at the resemblance they share to the two of you.

“ellie please,” you beg, but your pleas fell on deaf ears. she hits the play button and the pornographic moans and whines filled the room once again. the masculine woman had her face buried between the other’s thighs, holding them open on either side of her head. the woman receiving moans loudly, “yes fuck, eat my pussy, just like that.”

“that what you want baby? you want my mouth on your pussy?” she revels in embarrassing you like this. she loves the way you blush at her dirty words and get all shy, as if that wasn’t exactly what you were picturing 5 minutes ago.

“yes ellie. please I need you.” and just like that, your laptop was long forgotten on your bedside table, your panties are pushed to the side, and ellie’s head is in between your thighs, her tongue moving rapidly up and down your wet slit. now your whines and moans and ellie’s groans against your pussy are the sounds filling the room. “feels so good els- i can’t- don’t think i can take it.”

ellie lifts her head off your pussy for just a second to look at you and say “well i think you’re gonna sit there and take what i give you after being such a desperate little slut this morning.” and then her tongue is back on your clit, circling the nub rapidly while she rubs your thighs and you squirm in her arms. she brings her tongue down to your hole and presses it in, and then shakes her head back and forth on your cunt, rubbing your clit with her nose as she does so. you swear every time she eats you out it’s like she’s worshipping your pussy. she lifts her head again briefly to stare at your pink folds and curses, “fuck. so sexy baby goddamn,” before returning to your cunt once again.

the site is so hot and so dirty and you spent so much time that morning playing with yourself that you already feel orgasm approaching. “ellie I’m gonna- fuck- I’m gonna cum already.”

“already? god- such a whore. you probably came already earlier from watching your little video, huh? such a dirty girl watching that shit.” ellie’s taunts and humiliating words push you over the edge and pleasure explodes throughout your whole body. your toes curl and your back arches and ellie’s grip around your thighs tightens as she pulls you even closer to her face and sucks on your clit while you ride out your orgasm. your hips buck against her face, your body uncontrollably moving to get closer to her tongue and then quickly backing away from the overstimulation when it became too much. when your breathing calmed and you settled down, ellie lifts her head from your pussy and looks up at you beaming. you giggle and she comes closer to put her lips on yours and passionately kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.

when she pulls away, she puts her forehead against yours and hums, “mmm I’m not done with you yet.” ellie walks over to her side of the bed and grabs her purple strap from its box in her nightstand. she clicks it in place around her hips, not even bothering to take her pants off and leaving her still fully clothed. she sits back down on the bed beside you and pats her lap. “come sit.” you crawl over and swing a leg over ellie to straddle her hips. her fingers find the bottom of her t-shirt you have on and lifts it over your head. “love seeing you in my clothes, but love seeing em off you even more.” her mouth latches to one of your nipples while one hand found the other, and her second hand grabs your waist, pulling you down onto her plastic cock. the strap easily slides into your sopping wet hole and you and ellie moan in sync when you sit down fully, both of you looking at how it swallows up her cock completely. she gives you a minute to adjust and then unlatches her mouth from your tit with a pop. your head falls into her neck as your clenching pussy struggles to get used to the fullness. “s’ full, huh baby? that feel good?”

“feels s’ good- I can’t move though.”

“yes you can, c’mon baby I’ll help you.” she grabs your hips and slowly lifts you up the length of her strap, before bringing you back down again until she bottoms out. she repeats the movement again and again, speeding up a bit each time until you’re bouncing in her lap.

you grip onto her shoulders and begin pushing yourself up and down on your own, until soon you feel your second orgasm approaching. “els faster- fuck me faster please I need to cum.”

“awwww baby needs to cum again??” ellie coos mockingly, but obliges nonetheless as she starts fucking up into you at a pace that hits that one spot in your pussy just right. “so spoiled. getting exactly what you want and still whining. cmon, cum for me brat, make a mess all over my cock.” your second orgasm takes you by force - damn near stealing the breathe out of your lungs as waves of pleasure rock your body over and over again. you let out long, uncontrollable, and animalistic groans that have ellie feeling close to orgasm too. the end of the strap is hitting her clit just right as she fucks you through your orgasm, and the downright pornographic moans leaving your mouth were getting to be too much for her. “holy shit baby don’t stop cumming- I’m so close.” you moan again in response, sending her over the edge and making waves of pleasure rock through her own body. she talks both of you through it, “yes- fuck, good girl, let it all out f’ me, good job baby.” you huff and puff and try to catch your breathe as both of you calm down. still inside of you, ellie wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you down to lay on her chest, rubbing your back and comforting while you settle. “feel better now?” ellie mutters before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“yes. much better.”

hiii babies, so sorry for the hiatus, I’m back at school now so unfortunately I’ll probably be producing less content consistently, BUT I will make sure that everything I put out is SO YUMMY and juicy that it makes up for it. love ya’ll!!

xoxo,

a ;)

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x y/n #tlou2

1K notes · View notes

wannabespiderman · 3 months

Text

Instructions unclear, sent a bowl of chocolate cereal.

Bucky Barnes x reader

You get your grumpy old man a smartphone. Chaos ensues.

Bucky suspiciously inspected the black rectangle between his fingers. “That’s not the phone I had in mind.” Of course, he had probably been thinking of a damn rotary phone when you suggested he needed something to keep in touch with people. You knew he had this weird relationship with modern technology, he was very wary of everything electronic and if he didn’t get the hang of it immediately he would just get frustrated. On the other hand, if he was able to figure it out himself he was openly proud of it, telling you how easy it was. You always had to walk the fine line between something enhanced enough that it was actually useful these days and simple enough that he wouldn’t become grumpy and pout about it while talking your ear off at how ‘the simpler times’ were called that for a reason.

A Smartphone was very very risky. Sure, you could’ve found an old flip phone or a Nokia brick but those things just hadn’t survived the test of time and according to your very professional opinion as his partner and self-proclaimed emotional support nuisance, this man desperately needed to stay in contact with the few people he would call his friends.

Despite your worry you put on your most supportive smile and turned the phone in his hand so he held it right side up. “Try it at least, okay? It’s cool.” You tried to assure him. He didn’t have to do a lot, you already set it up for him and downloaded all the apps you deemed necessary, helpful or fun, you even turned on the accessibility option so he could navigate his phone with one hand since the metal one wouldn’t work on a screen and would probably also leave scratches, so all that was left for him was to explore his new toy. You guided his pointer finger to the side of the phone and let him press the little button which made the screen turn on. Bucky gave you an unsure glance before turning his attention back to the phone in his hand and just kinda…stared at it until the screen turned off again. For a moment you didn’t know what was going on until you realized that with Bucky, specificity was key. You shook your head to shoo away the previous confusion his behavior caused and shuffled closer to him. “Do it again.” You encouraged him. Bucky’s brows furrowed slightly.

Oh no.

You held your breath, waiting for him to potentially hand the phone right back to you and suggesting that writing letters would be enough. After what felt like a minute he finally pressed the button again and you quietly released your breath. “Great! Now you just need to drag your thumb gently over the screen and you’re good to go.” Bucky slowly followed your instructions and you could practically feel the pride radiating off him, his eyes lighting up. Still, he tried to play it cool. “Huh. That was easy.”

Not specific enough.

You looked at your phone and tried to make out what exactly Bucky had sent you. It must’ve been a picture of his face, right? You thought you could see the brown of his hair in this blurry mess but on the other hand it could also be…maybe a bowl of chocolate cereal? Some Chili, maybe? No, there was definitely too little red for it to be Chili.

The man recently learned how to text like a normal person, more or less, but you didn’t know he also kind of figured out how to send pictures. His picture moved upwards when another blurry mess appeared in your chat. You squinted your eyes at the new picture, it was mostly white with some grey stripe in the middle. You gave up, no way you could figure out what the hell that one was.

Bucky…what is that? You typed out. The next message he sent you gave you move questions than answers.

I need a new phone. That was impossible, his smartphone was less than three days old. Sure, it could’ve cracked but you were sure he would’ve told you about that.

What’s wrong with your phone? Maybe I can help? You suggested. You didn’t have to wait for an answer too long.

Yes, please. You quietly chuckled to yourself, half amused by his struggles, half compassionate of them. You decided it would be best to talk to him face to face so you raked your fingers through your hair a few times to hide the fact that you’ve been hanging around in your bed for the last few hours and clicked the video call option on your screen. It rang and rang and…rang…until finally your screen lit up, or dulled down because all you could see was darkness with a touch of a chestnut color. You should’ve known that this would happen.

“Bucky, it’s a video call.” You informed him and watched as he pulled the phone away from his ear and instead looked at his screen, his brows furrowed like he always did when he lost a fight against technology. “Oh…” He grumbled.

“So, what’s wrong with your phone?” Bucky pressed his lips together, his eyes looking anywhere but at his phone.

“Bucky?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. Bucky let out a sigh and wiped his face with his right hand but you could see the slight blush forming on the apples of his cheeks.

“Was anyone going to tell me that there are two cameras? Why the hell would anyone need two?” You saw him lean against the headrest and turn his head to the side with an annoyed expression. Your heart melted a little bit, you couldn’t help but find it endearing at how clueless he was when it came to things that were common knowledge to you.

“James, stop pouting.” There was a tone of amusement in your voice even though you tried to feign sternness. Bucky’s head shot back towards where he could see you on the screen in his hand and blinked a few times as if he was trying to comprehend what you just said. You never really called him by his first name and his reaction made you clench your jaw and hold your breath so you wouldn’t burst out laughing.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You asked innocently and batted your lashes towards your camera. Bucky narrowed his eyes but couldn’t suppress the little smile that was tugging on the corners of his mouth. You grinned triumphantly, happy that you could at least lighten his mood a little bit. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You finally said and playfully scrunched your nose. “So was that it? Did you have a problem taking pictures because you tried to take them with the outer camera?” Buckys smile slightly faltered but he chuckled nonetheless.

“Yeah, I guess. Sorry to be a bother with all the…you know, modern stuff, I-“ You cut him off immediately. “Don’t you dare apologize for that, you’re still learning and I’m happy to help. Hey, I’m very proud of you for making it work with the phone.” Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly but you could see his eyes soften. “I try.”

You continued talking to him for a while about nothing in particular until you decided that you both needed some rest and hung up. It was merely twenty minutes later, you just settled down and closed your eyes when your phone vibrated. A message from Bucky. You curiously opened the message to see if he had any more problems but instead your lips curled into a big, bright smile.

He sent you a picture, this time you could fully make out what it was, a photo of a shirtless Bucky laying on his couch, his eyes crinkled as he wore a proud grin with the caption I figured it out!

__________

Tag list: @lunaroserites

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #fanfic #fanfiction #boyfriend!bucky

607 notes · View notes

too-much-tma-stuff · 2 months

Text

Finally Getting Help (prt 6)

Masterpost

The Wayne family gathered in the family room once Alfred was done setting up the projector, somehow there was also a plate of cookies and a couple pots of tea on the coffee table. How he’d found the time they didn’t know, he always seemed to be doing just a little more than should be possible but they didn’t question it.

Jazz seemed nervous as she plugged in her USB and accessed the power point on Ghosts and Liminality. The tidal page had a picture of Danny in his Phantom form standing with a group of others, a boy with gray skin and blond hair, a girl with green hair and skin, and a goth with purple eyes and a dark skinned boy who looked around Danny’s age, and Jazz with the title “Ghosts and Liminals!”

The next slide had simple text: “What are they and How are they made?”

With each slide she read the text on the screen allowed and then added any context or anecdotes she thought of, or had prepared.

(Next slide)

Ghosts:

Made of ectoplasmic energy and obsession

Made either:

when someone dies with strong enough desires

An idea gains enough traction to take on a life of its own

Immutable concepts and gods

Must be allowed to indulge in obsessions or they will cease to exist

All have basic abilities such as flight, intangibility, invisibility, and minor shape shifting

On top of basic abilities most will have additional powers based on their obsessions

Immortal unless killed

Love to fight

Liminals

Made when a human is exposed to high levels of ectoplasm for prolonged periods of time

Have some ghostly traits

Ghostly traits vary person to person

Less susceptible to human illness and injury

“The ghosts on the picture are Kitty and Johnny, we’ve had problems with them but would consider them friends now. They’re the ghosts of two humans who died, but there are others, Vortext for instance is the ghost of Storms. Those ghosts who come from ideas are called ‘neverborns’. There seem to be almost an infinite number of ghosts, however not all of them are interested in having anything to do with us so we tend to get the same faces showing up a lot in Amity.

“I don’t know how many liminals there are. I thought they might be new with my parents' research but as I look into it more I think there are more natural sources of ectoplasm then my parents thought.” Jazz explained before going to transition to the next slide.

“I have a question-” Bruce started before Jazz hushed him.

“Wait till the end please! I might answer it without you having to ask,” She scolded, and he felt very much like a schoolboy again as his children snickered.

(Next slide including a image of the glowing green viles in the Fenton’s lab and a glowing green crystal)

Ghost biology

Ghosts do not have any recognizable organs or bones

The only solid part of their being is their Core which is the source of their ectoplasm

Any injury to a ghosts form not done directly to their core is considered minor and will heal

A healthy ghost is fully capable of mending any damage including removed limbs in a matter of hours or days depending on extent of the injury

All injuries not including the Core are considered minor

Ghosts are considered young for at least the first hundred years of their existence and are often not considered adults until nearly 500

A caveat to this is ghosts are heavily driven by emotion and will often be the age they feel they are allowing ghosts to mature much more quickly, or more slowly

When this is the case ghosts are treated as the age they present and behave

Ghosts reproduce by shaping ectoplasm and Wanting a child badly enough

“Believe me it was incredibly scary the first time I saw Danny in his ghost form have something go right through his stomach. It took him a long time to convince me it wasn’t a big deal and it barely hurt. He does have to make sure he repairs the damage Before turning human again though or the damage can transfer over and I don’t need to tell you a hole in the gut is a lot more serious for humans!

“If I’m honest I only know ghosts that have stayed younger then they really are, for instance Youngblood who’s a few hundred years old and could be well on his way to adulthood if he wanted but has remained a child. I assume it can go the other way though, if a ghost is very mature for their age.”

Ectoplasm

Ectoplasm is the energy that makes up all ghosts and the Ghost Zone itself. All ghosts can feed on the ectoplasm around them as well as produce their own by indulging in obsessions. The ghosts Cores produce the ectoplasm like a brain produces neurochemicals when exposed to the right stimulation.

Ectoplasm is a powerful source of energy but unstable. When it is stabilized into an ecto-crystal it is more stable and can be used as a power source safely by ghosts and liminals.

“Most ectoplasm is green like you see in the pictures. But it isn’t the only colour, some other ghosts produce different colours and it is highly tied to what emotion drives them. When it’s pure it usually smells like petracore but it can get pretty foul.”

(next slide)

What are Obsessions

Every ghost has one or more obsessions

They can be very literal things such as boxes, or ideas and emotions such as Love

In rarer cases they may have dual obsessions

Unlike for humans obsessions are very healthy for ghosts

Ghosts need to indulge their obsessions

Sometimes the way ghosts indulge their obsessions might seem evil, however it is almost always just amoral

Obsessions shape every part of a ghost from their powers to thier physical appearance, to befriend a ghost you Must understand and aid their obsession

In very extreme circumstances a ghosts obsession may shift, sometimes this is healthy, more often it is a result of extreme trauma

“With my interest in psychology this was sort of hard for me to accept. From the outside the way ghosts obsess seems really unhealthy but it’s what gives them life. When not allowed to indulge in their obsessions ghosts will dysregulate and go to extreme lengths to try and get their obsession, if that doesn’t work they either go dormant if their core is still healthy enough or they will melt.

“Ghosts change their obsessions very rarely, I’ve heard of it happening as they heal. For instance once a ghost has gotten revenge for themselves, if that was their obsession, their obsession might shift to avenging other people, or even protecting them so they don’t need to be avenged.”

(Next Slide)

Ghost Culture

The Ghosts have a monarchy

The title of the Ghost King is not hereditary but passed through trial by combat

Under the monarch is a council of being known as Observants, and powerful and old ghosts called Ancients

Ghosts respect strength and value power and cunning in combat a lot

Ghosts bond with each other through combat and play fight with family and friends often

“I have down that the ghosts are a monarchy, and technically that is true but the current Ghost King was a tyrant who was locked away thousands of years ago. I’m sure as soon as someone shows up who’s powerful enough to beat him his court will be happy to pick up where they left off with a better King, or queen, though I don’t think the title has to change based on gender.

“I really can’t stress enough how violent ghosts are! Because nothing short of having their cores shattered can kill them, play fighting for them can look Very Much like a murder attempt to a human. A lot of the issues we’ve had with ghosts have come from them just not understanding quite how fragile humans, and for most of them they feel really bad once they know they actually Hurt someone by shooting them. It’s really best for everyone when they’re kept separate and Ghosts can happily tear each other apart in peace.”

Liminals

The result of long term low level exposure to ectoplasm, sudden high doses are almost always deadly

Liminals Can have almost every trait a ghost can, usually having a combination of a few

Commonalities between liminals include

Minor cosmetic changes such as: glowing eyes, pointed ears, and/or sharp teeth

Increased stamina, strength, and aggression

Increased obsessive behaviour

Liminals sometimes develop powers shaped by the strength and type of obsession

“Most of the people Danny and I know are liminals. I don’t want to talk about them in case they don’t want to be outed so I’ll talk about myself and my parents. We all had prolonged exposure after all. My ears are pointed,” She said brushing her hair back so they could see them, “And Danny is a little more then liminal but even in human form he has fangs.

“My parents didn’t realize it but they could to the point they could subsist on their obsession without needing to eat or sleep as often as a regular human would. About a year ago I started developing the ability to tap into and feel other peoples emotions, I can feed on them a little too but I try not to because the Worst ghost we met did that and I don’t want to be anything like her.”

(Next Slide)

In conclusion

Ghosts are not evil even though sometimes their actions are hard to understand

Never get between ghosts when they’re fighting each other but it’s usually safe to yell at them to remind them not to break anything

Never get between a ghost and their obsession

Don’t drink ectoplasm unless you know you’re already liminal

“I have a feeling the section about liminals will be familiar to a bunch of you. I know Damian is liminal though I don’t know how he was exposed to ectoplasm and some of you,” Her eyes skirted across Tim and Bruce. “Are toeing the line. You’ll probably notice Damian and Danny getting really close, and they might get in some really vicious looking fights. I promise Danny is playing at least.”

The family was left silent for a moment, Bruce knew he was thinking about Jason. Who had died, been exposed to.. What certainly seemed to be something like Lazarus water and come back, obsessive, aggressive, and emotional. He wished he’d had this powerpoint a long time ago. It helped understand Damian too but mostly he was thinking about Jason. He needed to reach out again, maybe meeting Danny would be good for Jason?

“So uhhh, ya, that’s the end of the powerpoint?” Jazz said, shifting from foot to foot in the awkward silence. “Any questions?”

#danny phantom #fanfiction #dc x dp #jasmine fenton #bruce wayne #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #liminal #tim drake #jason todd #trans!danny #the batfamily #danny is pregnant au #finally getting help au #vlad is a creep #dc stands for disregard cannon

1K notes · View notes

sugawarassoulmate · 3 months

Note

i maybe biased but akiteru porn au 😈

tbhhhh more like kei stumbling upon a sex tape that you made with his brother LOL

akiteru is pretty good when it comes to making sure any videos or pictures of you stay private but you're not as conservative as he is sksks

kei's computer isn't working so he borrows your laptop to finish up the paper he'd been writing for class.

he didn't mean to snoop through your files but your dumb ass unknowingly gave him full access. it isn't long until he "stumbles" across a video of you laid out on a bed, makeup running down your face as akiteru's cock disappears in and out of your cunt.

your shirt was pushed up and your bra pulled down, revealing your tits which bounced with every thrust.

the look on your face is something kei’s never seen before. completely fucked out—eyes glazed over and drool dribbling from your open mouth. “akiiii, feels s’good…”

"i know it feels good, baby, but you have to be quiet," akiteru whispers off camera in response to your whines. "we don't want to wake up kei, right?"

before you can open your mouth again, akiteru's free hand comes down to cover your lips, bucking his hips harder into you. kei can hear the muffled screams through his headphones.

he'd only heard you two going at it—often times pretending he was the one pleasuring you instead. it's hard to live out his sick little fantasy when it's his brother's voice shushing you.

"cum around my cock, angel,” akiteru says. “you always look so pretty when you cum for me.”

kei wants to know the face you make when you cum. wants to keep it in the back of his mind so he can go back to it tonight when his hand is wrapped around his cock.

but just as you're about to orgasm, kei can hear footsteps down the hall and he's quick to exit out the video and get out of the folder before returning back to his word document.

“keiii, when’s your paper gonna be done? i finally picked a movie to watch,” you say, waltzing into kei’s room and sitting on his bed. you peer over at the screen and see he’s hasn’t made much progress since the last time you checked in him. “you’ve barely made a dent!”

“oi, shut up. unlike some people my first draft isn’t a final draft,” kei snaps. “i’ll be done in another hour.”

“yeah right,” you tease. “fine, take your time. i’ll watch something else in the meantime. you’re sooo lucky i saved the day and let you borrow my computer.”

kei waits for you to leave the room before he watches the rest of the video, knowing he’ll go to sleep dreaming of making one with you.

#haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #akiteru smut #akiteru x reader #akiteru tsukishima #tsukishima akiteru smut #tsukishima akiteru x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #loser!kuroo

447 notes · View notes

strawberri-elixir · 4 months

Text

╰⇢ Bllk characters with you as their motivation to score

Requested: this lovely request here

Characters: Rin, Isagi, Reo, Bachira, Nagi

Warnings: none

Note: this request is so cute thank you again for letting me write it!

Rin

To be honest, I don’t think Rin really cared about the reward system that came with scoring goals and earning points. To be fair, I don’t think that he even remembered that he could call you if he got his phone back. Poor boy wouldn’t have thought about it until one of his teammates mentioned how lucky he was to have scored so many goals in the first selection.

But as soon as he remembered that he could text you and call you with his phone if he got it back, he immediately went to exchange those 3 measly points for his phone. The first thing he did was call you. He didn’t trust himself to be able to wait for your response if he texted you first.

He was over the moon to hear your voice after a few rings. Despite not showing it outwardly, he really missed being able to see you every day. But getting these moments to call you meant the world to him. Not to mention how he’d spend pretty much all of his free time texting you.

‘Just got out of the shower.’

‘How was your day?’

‘Nobody here is worth my time.’

‘I miss you…’

Isagi

Everyone on Team Z could tell he was more motivated to score the day after he found out about the point system from Kunigami. The thought of being able to communicate to him fueled his determination way more than even he expected. He’d alway be in an open position when he was near the goal, ready for the ball to find his feet and then eventually, the back of the net.

When he finally scored three goals, he immediately went to exchange the points for his phone. The first thing he did was send you a message telling you how much he missed you. And even if you couldn’t respond right away, he was happy to wait. At least he had a way to talk to you again. And when you finally did respond, he was already thinking of a response to whatever you said, eager to continue the conversation. And he would continue to check up on you, making sure you were properly taking care of yourself.

‘Hey, I hope you’re doing okay ☺️ I really miss you!’

‘There’s a lot of amazing players here!’

‘Good morning! Did you sleep well?’

‘Make sure you eat and drink lots of water! I love you <3’

Reo

Already being ranked on the higher end of the group, Reo and his teammates easily racked up a fair amount of goals. Him included. He browsed the options of rewards he could exchange points for. When his eyes landed on the reward for his phone, his face practically lit up.

He was so excited to text you. An image of you and him displayed as his lock screen, your arms wrapped around his neck, huge smiles on your faces. He clicked on your contact, ready to send you a message. While he waited patiently for a response, he scrolled through his old photos from a few months prior. The more he looked, the more he realized he missed seeing your smile.

‘I love you so much, I miss seeing you everyday.’

‘Send me a selfie, I want to see your smile.’

‘How was your day?’

‘I hope you know how much I miss you.’

Bachira

To say Bachira was excited to text you was an understatement. His motivation went through the roof at the thought of being able to talk to you again. He’d blow past all of the opposing team’s defensive lines and score goal after goal. You were his motivation, his will. And he just couldn’t wait to text you after he finally earned enough points.

As soon as he was given access to his phone again, he clicked on your beloved contact and immediately started texting you even if you weren’t available to text him back. At first, it’d be little “I miss you” messages, before turning into his excited explanations of every game he’s played once you finally respond. Then, whenever he got the chance, he’d text you.

‘I miss you! \(^ヮ^)/’

‘Guess what Isagi did today’

‘Play 8-ball with me!’

‘I can’t wait to see you again (￣▽￣)’

Nagi

Despite being told about the possibility that he could get his phone back, Nagi didn’t really give it a second thought. That is, until an image of you suddenly flashed through his mind in the middle of a match. It was like a switch in his mind. He wasn’t really one for expressing how he felt, but his sudden desire to score more didn’t go unnoticed.

Now, even though he got his phone back early on in the first selection, the mental note he made to text you completely slipped his mind. He was too absorbed in his games to think about anything else. It wasn’t until he saw a notification from you pop up at the top of his screen that he remembered why he wanted his phone back in the first place. Nonetheless, he immediately texted back.

‘It’s such a hassle being here…’

‘Do you want to join our Minecraft world?’

‘I’d rather be with you.’

‘I miss your cuddles.’

~ Please do not repost! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! ~

467 notes · View notes

noyasmashing · 8 days

Note

I LOVE YOUR FICS OMGGGG 😭😭

could u write like kageyama where he has like a high prestige (??) especially when he's being sub on the bed, he wouldn't let out his moan but finally being such a loud and whiny baby when u flick his nipples with ur tongue and play with his sensitive member 😭😭😭

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😓

ALSO!! I know my writing keeps switching from past to present tense-it’s a bad habit i’ve had but i’m too lazy to fix it, plz just ignore

CW: Dom reader, nipple play, gn!reader, some crying, hand job, a bit of marking of you squint

Tobio was quietly slumped in the corner of the sofa, nestled comfortably between the cushions. His gaze was fixed on you, as you were completely engrossed in the movie playing on the screen. The tension in the room was intense, and you could sense his longing for your attention.

As an advertisement briefly interrupted the film, you glanced over at him. His face contorted into a pouty expression, clearly communicating his feelings without saying a word. The sight almost made you laugh, but you didn’t want to make him feel bad.

You pushed yourself up from your spot at the opposite end of the sofa and made your way towards him. "Tobioo," you coo’d softly, causing him to nibble on the inside of his cheek. For the first time since the movie started, he looked away from you.

"W-what?" he stuttered, sounding slightly annoyed at your attempt to engage with him despite his obvious staring.

"You're hard," you purred, draping one leg over his lap, you settled yourself on top of him. He didn't meet your gaze, but he nodded silently, looking down at his fidgety hands.

You used your palms to steady yourself on his shoulders, dipping down to his level, until your eyes finally met. You closed the gap with a controlled kiss that quickly turned messy as Tobio greedily took in your tongue. Sweaty hands clasped at your shirt desperately, his needy reaction giving away everything he was feeling in that moment.

Pulling away gingerly, your hands clinged at the hem of his shirt, while his pants for air fanned your neck. "Can I take this off?"

A breathy "yes" escaped him. You could feel his needy erection pressing against you through his pants. But he would have to wait a little longer.

You lifted his cotton shirt up, over his head, unintentionally ruffling up his hair in the cutest way. But what was even cuter was his perky pink nipples that made you grin. Noticing your expression, he shrunk under your intense gaze, not wanting to admit the effect you had on his body.

Tobio couldn’t help but let out a sharp gasp, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Your tongue teased his collarbone, tracing a path of tantalizing warmth against his pale flesh. Simultaneously, your hand skillfully worked to free his erection from the confines of his underwear, eliciting a shiver of anticipation from him.

Drawing your teasing mouth away from his sensitive skin, you took a moment to prepare, spitting into your hand to use as lube. The sight made Tobio's breath hitch, an embarrassing whine escaping him. He reached out to put a hand on his mouth to stifle any sounds that threatened to escape, but you quickly snatched his hand away, ensuring he couldn't silence himself.

“Do I need to tie your hands up again?” You questioned harshly, your thumb teasing his slit that was dripping with pre-cum. The intensity of your touch sent a shiver down his spine, “no please, ‘m sorry!” pleading not to face the humiliation of being bound by harsh ropes.

You hummed content with his response, tongue pressing firmly against one of his cute nipples. He wanted to try to stop you, but the pleasure was too much to care, causing his mouth to go all slack, eyes helplessly rolling back, with a needy whine.

Restraining himself from thrusting into your hand, he struggled with the unfamiliar sensation of being touched in such an intimate area. As you continued to suck and bite lightly, his back arched, granting you better access to his sensitive nipples.

“Your nipples are so cute! You look so pretty like this!” You enthusiastically praised rolling one between your index and your thumb, his eyelashes fluttered, tips of his ears flushed with heat, his thighs quivering as moans spilled from his parted lips.

He hated how much he loved your words, he wanted to be pretty for you. All he could do to respond was let out the loudest, prettiest, “Ahh- nghh!” He had completely lost himself in the moment when your wrist twisting back and forth as you focus on his red tip.

That, combined with the biting at sucking from your mouth, not to mention your free hand teasing his chest, occasionally running over his hard nipple, was too much for him.

"[N-name], please I-I... it's- gonna cum!" he rambled, his hips involuntarily buckling into your firm palm. The desperation in his voice was palpable as his member throbbed and twitched with the need for release. With skilled hands, you focused on his sensitive tip, eliciting pretty whimpers from him. “Did I say you could cum?” You asked harshly dragging your mouth away from his chest.

He let out a pitiful cry, tears threatening to fall from his long lashes. His most pretty tactic to get some of your compassion.

“Ah, n-no, no you didn’t-fuck fuck fuck!”

"You know what I want to hear," You sing, running your finger up and down his weeping cock. He stops his eyes from rolling back, but his head fell back onto the couch as he let out a pained sob.

“Nghhh, can I cum please? I wanna so bad, it hurts, please [name], please.” He shamelessly begs, his prestige melting away from the intense pleasure you placed under him.

You nodded with smile at his words, “Cum for me, my good boy,” You encouraged, and with that thick white ropes of cum coated his tummy. His body trembled with the force of his orgasm, instinctively attempting to close his thighs, but you held him in place. The intimacy of the moment hung heavy in the air, the aftermath of pleasure leaving Tobio vulnerable and undone under your touch.

This time, it was him to speak up, “uh—can you do…do that again.”

146 notes · View notes

defbotboy · 22 days

Text

Something Like Love

“Hiya there, pretty boy.”

Megumi scowled, “You’re late.”

You felt your lips spilt into a grin, he was pretty when he scowled too, you couldn’t help it.

“Aww. Did you miss me? Were you eagerly waiting for a chance meeting with your beloved?” you teased.

“It's not a chance meeting if we agreed to meet at a specific time only for you to waltz in half an hour late. That's just you being irresponsible, “ he shot back. But you didn’t miss that he didn’t say anything about the ‘beloved’ part. You also didn’t miss that under his tousled messy hair the tips of his ears were faintly blushed.

“Cute”, you thought to yourself.

“I’m sorry to have kept milord waiting but it’s not easy to gather information on the location of forbidden cursed tools.”

Three days ago, Megumi had called you asking for the information on them. You were surprised on two accounts. It was the first time he had sent you a message longer than four words. It was also a bit of a shock to you as Megumi, while not a stickler for rules exactly, was asking for information on a potentially dangerously illegal task to you.

Then again, the Jujustu Technical school kids had no one else to get such information from other than you. The higher ups won’t just let them get access to such information despite leaving Special Grade Cursed items in Stevenson screens. It was ridiculous to you.

“Do you have a fight today?”

Oh, this was new. Megumi never asks you questions about this part of your life. He despised that you took part in the illegal fighting rings for Jujustu sorcerers. It was the only way you could make a living though, you’d rather die than join the school.

“My my. You know what this is, Megumi? This is a personal question. This indicates that you have taken an interest in my personal life. What’s next? Are you going to ask me out on a date?”

“And if I do?’

Huh. It was your turn to turn flushed in the face. You’ve flirted so excessively with your crush as if to make up for his taciturn nature. Never in a billion years did you think you’d end up here.

“What?” you asked, lamely.

A smile tugged at the corners of Megumi’s lips, Not so chatty now are you, he thought.

“A date. It's where people romantically interested in each other go some place together and eat and stuff. Now that I've said food is involved you’re surely not going to say no arent you?”

Your appetite was undeniably legendary. And you were living on cup noodles, so any chance you got with free food was a battle to witness as you demolished plate after plate. But this wasn’t just any idiot asking you out.

It was Megumi. Megumi Fushiguro, the boy you’ve been (not so secretly) pining after ever since he beat your ass in a fight at the underground rings. He, along with Yuuji and Nobara had stumbled on the rings while investigating a case. The boss had promised them some information on a cursed spirit if they made the day’s show legendary. That’s how you had ended up pitted against Megumi. It was a long battle. You were the ring’s top contender until he came in. The fight was won by a hair breadth. You could both barely stand up after it.

And then covered in blood and panting like his life’s last breath was being taken each time, Megumi had never looked as beautiful. You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

So you wormed your way into being their informant. You flirted every chance you got. When Megumi offered up his number for, “Easier information exchange, I don’t want to hang around your stupid fighting rings every time I want something from you.”

But he had. Every rare holiday that the school offered him, he spent hanging around the rings watching you fight. The days you caught him hanging around he pretended to have been waiting to see you for information. Then after completing whatever task he had thought up at the last minute together, you both would have dinner.

He adored seeing you eat. You ate with such relish of the food. Your mouth stuffed and your eyes eagerly scanning for what you should take a bite of next. It was a secondary sight to seeing you in battle though.

Each kick, and punch delivered with absolute surety. Your cursed technique might have been dull, but you wasted no amount of cursed energy. Every move was calculated to utter precision and you moved with the grace of a dancer, and attacked with the strength of a seasoned warrior.

Megumi knew he sounded cocky as he asked you out, but his heart was hammering inside his ribs.

“So?” He asked. “Do you want to go on a date with me, Y/N?”

“Why?” you asked, all of a sudden not too sure about anything. Your insecurities coming at you in a rush before your insides which were screaming at you to shut up and just say yes.

But Megumi was prepared. He knew you from months on watching you move. You might fight fiercely and flirt shamelessly but he’s also seen you after fights lost, drowning in self-doubt and he knows how hard you find it to trust those on your side. It's not easy being raised to destroy and finding yourself in a moment like this that promises something more. Something like love.

So, he had known when he came today that you would ask him this question.

Megumi stepped froward and extended his hand. He softly brushed away the stray hair that fell on your face. From up this close, he could smell the familiar scent of soap on you, your sweet breaths coming out slow and heavy from how close you both were. He tipped your head towards his face.

Your heart was in your throat now. Ready to jump. He was so close. You could see his long. wispy eyelashes touching his cheeks in full detail. He was so fucking pretty.

“Why?” he repeated.

You nodded slowly, “Why?” you repeated.

“Why, because I like you. Because if you flirt with me once more and I’m not able to do anything about it then my heart might just explode.”

You felt your lips perk up into a smile. “What do you want to do about it?”

Unable to hide his smile anymore, he let it break out in its full glory. It was blinding to see. How could anyone smile like that, you wondered.

“This,” he said in response to your final teasing. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, he tasted like peppermints and the promise of something more. Something like love.

#jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu megumi #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #megumi x gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #jjk x gender neutral y/n

164 notes · View notes

disasterofastory · 6 months

Text

Records (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Records // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 10/14 Warnings: facefucking, facial

Summary: What is it called? Spank bank?

"You want to do what?" You ask him, shocked. You are not even sure why you are so shocked. After everything you did together, you shouldn't be surprised at his ideas, especially since you have internet access. "Please," he says, keeping his eyes on you the whole time to see your reaction. Like the way your eyes widen and your lips open. Your bottom lip shines with a thin layer of saliva as you lick the soft flesh repeatedly. He gives you a few seconds to think before speaking up again. "If I will have a video of you, you can go out more often." Brahms doesn't want to lie to you, but he isn't sure how much he can keep his word.

He can try, though.

Your eyes start to shine with interest as one of your brows lifts into a soft curve with a silent taunt. "So you want videos of me so you can jerk off while I'm away?" You ask him, fighting with your smirk. A slight blush spreads across his cheeks, but there is no way back now. "Yes."

"Fine."

Brahms's heart flutters in his chest, and his hold tightens around your phone.

You watch Brahms circling around the living room with a concentrated frown between his brows as he stares at the screen of your phone. An amused smile plays on your lips the whole time. "Honey," you break the silence after a while. "It's just a home movie, not a cinema." He doesn't even hear you. "Here," he says, stopping next to the window. "Here will be good." You laugh but can't deny the excitement bubbling in your chest and throbbing between your legs as you make your way to him.

"So, what do you want me to do?" You ask him, glancing at the camera, then up at his face. Without a word, he cups your face with one hand, letting his thumb stroke along your bottom lip. "I want you to suck my finger first." That's new, too. Obeying, you open your mouth and let your tongue brush the tip of his thumb. His skin is salty and warm. "No, wait," he says, pulling away his finger. "Kneel down in front of me." You do. "And look at the camera, not me," he continues. You are surprised at how difficult it is to tear your eyes away from his face. You start to notice why he wanted you next to the window. The lights of the setting sun illuminate his features. They highlight the color of his eyes and the straight line of his nose. His hair is a curly mess, and he still frowns at your phone as he focuses on it. His lips are in a small pout the whole time.

When you adjust your position in front of him, Brahms offers you his other two fingers. He pushes inside your wet channel immediately, letting your lips close around his digits while you keep staring at the camera from under your lashes. Your tongue flips around his fingers, coating them in your saliva. Your mouth is warm and wet. Your cheeks are hollow as you start to suck, still moving your tongue around. The feeling from his fingers goes straight to his dick. He was already hard when he came up with his idea, but now, the throbbing in his pants almost feels unbearable. His fingers shine when he pulls them out with a quiet pop. "Take out my cock." Comes his next order. His voice is hoarse with need and anticipation. Your hands smooth up on his thick thighs until you reach the buttons of his jeans and pull them down with his underwear until his cock stands free in front of your eyes. The lights filtering through the windows make his erection even prettier, with a bulbous head and veins bulging under his soft skin. Saliva gathers in your mouth at sight.

You start to stroke his length. You are so close he can feel every warm exhale coming out of your lips. Brahms shudders at the feeling and pushes his hips forward until the tip pokes your lips. Grabbing the base, he brushes over your lips, letting his pre-cum wet your lips even more. You are so pretty he can't even breathe until his lungs start burning for air.

You smirk up at the camera knowingly before focusing back on his cock against your lips. Your hold tightens around his shaft, and your tongue pokes out between your lips. You let yourself taste the tip of his cock. Just a few licks while your hand still jerks him up and down. You brush over the sensitive skin under the head, lapping up the pre-cum flowing down from the tip. Brahms grunts and moans above you, staring at the screen of your phone. Just the sight would be enough to make Brahms cum, but the feeling of your warm, wet mouth taking him deeper and deeper drives him crazy. Your tongue flattens at the underside of his shaft as you lean closer and closer. Your lips stretch around his grith as you stare up at the camera. Your eyes shine with something dark that makes Brahms's cock jerk in your warm hold. "Fuck," he grunts in ecstasy. Coming up for air, you start to stroke his whole length while you speak. "You can fuck my mouth, Brahms." The man almost chokes on his saliva when your words register in his mushy brain. "Pinch my thigh if it's too much." With a nod, you open your mouth wide again to gulp down on his erection. Your tongue dances around his cock the whole time. You bob your head up and down, soaking his cock in pre-cum and saliva. He can see them glinting at the corner of your mouth. Your lips are already swollen and red. You work on his cock, moving down and backing away, taking him deeper and deeper each time. Brahms has to force himself to steady his hold around your phone. You lick up from the base to the tip and then take him back into your mouth with one deep breath.

Brahms is unsure about fucking your mouth, mostly because he doesn't want to cum too soon. And he doesn't want to cum in your mouth.

Placing his hand on the back of your head, he grabs your hair and pushes you lower on his length. Your lips stay wrapped around his shaft as you let him take the lead and buck his hips against your face. You take him deeper and deeper. Your tongue strokes on his cock the whole time.

"Fuck!" He cries out, tightening his fingers in your hair when the gagging sound of your throat vibrates all over his body. Your struggle to accept him down your throat is filthy and oh-so-sweet to his ears. Brahms can feel his cock swelling in your mouth as he pushes and pushes while your moans vibrate around him. You let him use your mouth for his own pleasure while you stare up at the camera the whole time. Your thighs fidget every now and again for some friction, but your pussy continues to throb and ache for some attention.

Brahms can feel the familiar pull of his balls as he chases his orgasm. His cock pounds in and out of your mouth, making a mess on your lips and chin. Your eyes shine with tears, and he can see the stretch of your throat as he goes deeper.

Fuckfuckfuck

You are so beautiful. You are so perfect.

Even though the pace he dictates is too fast, you still try to move your tongue around his cock as you gulp every now and again around him. You suckle on his cock, holding his thighs to keep your balance against his thrusts. Brahms's eyes are dark as he stares down at you with a primal wildness. You can see the hard line of his jaw as he clenches his teeth. He fucks in and out of your mouth for long minutes until your mind starts to get light and hazy because of the lack of oxygen.

"I'm- I'm gonna-" Brahms tries to form words, but his every attempt ends up as a low moan. He has to use every will to jerk your head away from his cock and grab the base of his shaft as he explodes.

Strings of pearly white cum hit you across the face repeatedly, landing on your cheeks, covering your lips, and spilling into your mouth. Brahms's cock throbs and pulses with every releasing shot. You feel his seed running down your face as you close your eyes tightly while he still moans and whimpers above you, stroking his cock until he has no more cum to plaster on you.

When Brahms opens his eyes, you are still on your knees, smiling up at the camera as you gather his release on your fingers to lick them off with your tongue. "You are beautiful, Y/N." You smirk. "Just me or me with your cum all over me?" Brahms doesn't know how to answer.

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire smut #brahms heelshire imagine #the boy x reader #the boy imagine #kinktober 2023 #slasher fucker

326 notes · View notes

m1d-45 · 1 year

Note

Hello! It's a new anon here!

My name is Baby Cat/Out of pocket anon!

If I may, a SAGAU Aether x GN! Reader who has a mortal form that is has similarities to the divine creator but not enough to be confused as an imposter.

I'll clarify a bit, Aether dosent know that his beloved is actually the divine one, but instead thinks that they have simply been blessed with part of their beauty. Tevyat dosent know the creator has descended and is waiting, meanwhile Aether has the creator in mortal form as his darling partner.

-Baby Cat anon

P.S! My cat Duckie has recently warmed up to a new person!

a new tomorrow

a/n: ignore my dogwater schedule i have not written like at all for the past 2-3 weeks ahahah (also this is isn’t very romantic coded but i already hate this piece so my bad g)

word count: ~3k

-> warnings: canon-typical violence, microscopic spoilers for liyue story quest ig

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24

< masterlist > || next part >>

when you’d first arrived in teyvat, you had fully expected to die, in honesty.

you were up on the top of starsnatch cliff, and had nearly fallen off in your initial panic if not for a sharp wind and a lucky break. you were much more mindful of where you walked after that, but mondstat was littered with impossible cliffs, and your memory of the area was sharply diminished when you didn’t have a little circle in the corner of your screen to remind you where you were.

you grabbed a few low-hanging sunsettias as you walked, making your way across a nondescript patch of grass. your plan was to just eat them as-is, but after a moments more thought into the idea, perhaps washing them first would be wiser. according to your memory, there were four main bodies of water: a lake and waterfall further north, the ocean to the east, cider lake to the west, and the state of the seven… somewhere.

the lake was surrounded by hilichurls and was a bit too close to the anemo hypostasis for your liking, the ocean was a no for obvious reasons, and cider lake didn’t seem like a particularly good idea, not to mention the only closest access to it you could think of was surrounded by hilichurls.

so, the statue of the seven it is. the only problem, of course, was that you had no idea where you were.

you tried to keep track at first, but then you had to climb down from one too many cliffs and had to take one too many detours around impossible ones, and now you were blindly walking. you could tell by the dense forest and the small lamp grass that you were somewhere in the whispering woods, but the thin path you were following have no indication of your direction. you hoped, of course, that you were headed north, but you didn’t know how to tell. the three sunsettias in your arms looked more tempting by the minute, but you were determined to clean them first. not only would that help you get your bearings again, but you’d lower the risk of whatever diseases were native to teyvat.

…which was something to consider further, in truth. your body wasn’t native, and hadn’t grown up with and developed an immunity to the bacteria here. would you get sick? had you already, and just had to wait until the symptoms developed? should you be more worried than you were?

the path around you was opening up, but you were too busy worrying to bother look up. what were the long-term effects of staying in teyvat? would you be intolerant or allergic to the foods here, because your body wasn’t used to processing them? what were the long term effects of-

“watch out!”

would you find out at all?

you looked over your right shoulder, at the voice that had called, and barely get a glimpse of bright gold before something white covers your vision, tiny hands pulling at your shirt.

“come on,” a high voice says, “follow paimon! let’s get away from the trouble.”

paimon-?

you stumble along with her, letting her take you further into what you now recognize as windrise. damn, wrong way.

“ooh, are those sunsettias?” you notice she’s blocking my your view of whatever’s behind her, likely the traveller and some enemies if you had to guess, judging by her presence and the sounds of metal on wood. “they look really fresh, too..”

you decide against trying to lean around her. best not to traumatize yourself on your first day. “uh, yeah, they are. would- do you want one?” you hold out one of the fruits. “i haven’t washed them yet, but…”

“oh, that’s okay!” she takes it eagerly, giving it a cursory wipe with her sleeve before taking a bite. “you don’t really need to wash em, in paimon’s experience! just a quick clean of any dirt and you’re all good to go!”

…that was stellar to hear.

you patiently wait, pretending the grunts and roars and sounds of clashing weaponry don’t exist. you try to offer paimon another sunsettia, since you know in-lore she’s almost always hungry, but she shakes her head.

“one for paimon, one for you, and one for the traveller! that way, everyone gets the same amount, and nobody’s upset!”

you don’t know how to feel about the fact that she addresses him as ‘the traveller’. on one hand, it makes sense she wouldn’t throw his name around like that. on the other, it feels… wrong. not in a way you can put a name to, but something about it is unsettling.

“did they offend you, or something?”

you startle, looking up, and see aether standing right in front of you, flipping through some hilichurl masks in his hands before passing two off to paimon, who puts them in a cloud of stars.

he looks at you expectantly, and you realize you had been frowning at the food in your hands. “o-oh! no, they.. sorry, i was lost in thought.”

he dismisses the rest of the masks into gold sparks with a nod. “are you alright?”

paimon gasps, hands over her mouth as she flies back a little. “oh, paimon forgot to ask! are you hurt at all? you don’t look like you’re from here…”

you flash her a smile you hope covers the change in topic. “i’m fine. and thank you,” you turn to aether, “your help is greatly appreciated-…” what do you address him as? you’ve technically never met, but to call him an honorary knight is probably unwise…

“the traveller is fine,” he says. “and you didn’t answer paimon’s question.” rats. “are you from teyvat?”

you hesitate, but eventually shake your head. “i’m not.”

he frowns. “how’d you get here?”

“i don’t know.”

“..you don’t have anywhere to stay, do you?”

oh no. you recognize that voice. “it’s fine, you don’t have to worry about me.” you glance around, eventually pointing at mondstat. it’s stunning in person, even from a distance, but you push past its beauty to talk. “there’s a city there, right? i’ll make do.”

“now’s a tense time, even mondstat isn’t as welcoming as usual.”

‘tense’? you don’t remember mondstat being involved in any scandals, and the skies seem clear, so you must be past the mondstat part of the story… “is something wrong? wait, don’t answer that; if it’s tense, then you surely have somewhere more important to be, right?”

paimon huffs. “paimon bets you’re broker than the tone-deaf bard!” wow, okay. “and a single sunsettia doesn’t get you far!”

aether raises a brow. “‘single’?”

“right!” you hurriedly pick the larger of the two, holding it out to him. “as thanks. she’s right, i don’t have any mor- uh, any more to give you, but it’s the least i can do.”

he shakes his head. “keep them. now, regarding your housing-“

“i can stay in mondstat-“

“the entirety of teyvat is on edge right now. the chances of an outlander being welcomed without hassle is low, even for mond.” he thinks about it, paimon mirroring the hand on his chin.

you try to think over the lore, attempting to remember something that could affect the entirety of teyvat. maybe you’re in the middle of the liyue quest? but why would he be in mond… unless you’re beyond the known lore, but in that case he has even less of a reason to be here, and not wherever the crisis is. not that that’s his obligation, of course, but given the trend-

“what’s your name, by the way?” you give it, and he frowns. “ah, that won’t do.” what. “i.. i don’t know about where you’re from, but where i’m from and here in teyvat, there’s a prominent religion that spans nearly the entire world here. this faith is the cause of the conflict i was talking about earlier.”

your heart picks up, and you pray it’s just some weird quirk of the lore you haven’t gotten to yet. maybe something with the heavenly principles? celestia? you regret not reading up on more of the lore now that you’re face to face with potentially a large part of it. “and?”

“you share the name with the primary god.” please don’t be what i’m thinking of, please don’t be- “the people of teyvat are rather protective of their creator, and doubly so now that their presence has gone missing.”

shit.

your mind flashes to all the sagau you’ve indulged in, to the break you’d taken a few days ago because your game had been acting up and you didn’t want to make whatever glitch it was worse in fear of losing your progress.

“oh,” is all you can say.

living with aether is easier than you thought it would be.

by the time you wake, he’s out working for the guild, leaving you and most of the realm within to yourself. you try and be useful by tidying up, but tubby keeps most of the realm clean, so there’s little for you to really do. there’s rooms that weren’t in the game—likely because this is his personal realm—such as a massive library and big sunroom, and you pick through the former on occasion. there’s books about everything, from encyclopedias on flowers in sumeru to the types of silk used in inazuman clothing. everything you don’t understand or want clarification on is bookmarked, and after he’s come home and rested, you both talk about them over dinner.

sometimes he knows the answers to your questions. other times you write them down on a slip of paper, and he takes a detour that day to ask. even if it’s something from a nation he hasn’t visited yet, he somehow finds the answers, returning to you with a longer sheet as he explains. you don’t ask where he got it, nor why he’s so willing to entertain your surely silly questions, but it probably has something to do with the fact that you didn’t fish up a companion that could answer all of your questions about a world you didn’t know deeper than surface level.

similarly, the transition in your relationship was also smooth, so quiet you almost didn’t notice it was happening. it was just so easy to be around him, your familiarity with him outside of the game and implicit reliance on him as an outlander during the mess of teyvat making him easy to talk to.

you didn’t notice when you started greeting him with hugs more often, nor when you started eating side by side at the table, talking about more than just the books. you told him about your world, and he spoke of his, telling you beautiful stories of his sister and their travels.

(“every world i’ve been to has worshipped the creator in one way or another,” he says, pushing his empty plate to the side. “does yours really not?”)

(you make the choice to set aside the many religions on earth. “we don’t,” you say simply, and he frowns, resting his chin in his hand.)

(“how interesting…”)

once he was confident that you knew enough of teyvat and it’s people, he began to take you on his commissions. the realm within was nice, and tubby held good conversation, but cabin fever began to set in after a month or so. he held your hand as you walked, steering you out of the way of monster camps or other adventurers. he didn’t dare bring you on the ones requiring fighting, but you’d helped find lost keys or fallen boards, paimon always certain to pull you away from battle, distracting you with a chat about whatever meal aether would make later.

(“do you guys always cook? doesn’t adventuring pay well?” you asked once, trying to remember how much commissions earned in terms of mora. you never really kept track, nor did you try and figure out how much it was to buy food from places, but surely…)

(“mostly! mora typically goes to either ingredients or first aid supplies. paimon’s thankful he’s a good cook, it’d be impossible to survive otherwise.” she said it so simply, as if it was an easy fact and not awful that they couldn’t afford to eat out even after everything they’ve done.)

(“that’s terrible…”)

(“its not that bad! you’ve tasted his cooking before, it’s great!” that’s true, but- “besides, it’s been getting better recently. with the creator absent, he’s able to take the commissions himself. though it is nice, it’s still worrying they haven’t come back..”)

(the idea that you’ve been indirectly contributing to their situation makes you a bit sick.)

the three of you were walking through liyue, heading for the last commission of the day. shitou, the jade betting guy, needed more ores for his business, and aether was leading you through the city. he’d chosen the waypoint on the western side of the harbor so you could walk through the city, and you were happy he did.

it was so beautiful in person, the buildings and bridges so much more ornate than their models could do justice. the streets were crowded, but you weren’t overwhelmed when aether was beside you, pointing out a jewelry store or a traveling merchant showing off bright balloons to children. you passed one man holding a conversation with a millelith soldier, who was his brother judging by the informal way they spoke and the mentions of shared relatives. you crossed the bridge leading to the eastern half of the harbor, the smell of something sweet and flowery drifting in the air.

“is there a flower shop around here?” you ask, and aether shakes his head, pointing at a building you vaguely recognize.

“there’s a tea house there, and they specialize in rose tea. we could pick up some if you wanted to try it?”

“that’s fine, i was just wondering. i wouldn’t want you to buy something for me if i didn’t like it.”

he stayed quiet, but you could tell he was still thinking about it. “what’s the appropriate way to brew it… wait, do we even have a teapot?”

“i’d hope so, otherwise you’ll have a lot to explain to the adepti.”

he bumps your shoulder as you both begin to turn toward shitou, but you see he’s smiling. “you know what i mean, not that kind of-“

“teapot?”

your steps stopped suddenly, the new voice one you regrettably recognized.

aether turned, greeting zhongli with a smile and a small wave. “not the realm within, don’t worry.”

“that’s good to hear. i’d hate for it to be causing problems.” his eyes flicked to you, seeming to search for something. “and your friend?”

it was weird, the way he looked at you, and aether seemed to pick up on it, stepping forward a bit to block you while also making it seem like he was just turning to face zhongli better. “just someone helping me out. what are you doing out here, don’t you have a shift at the parlor?”

bless aether and his ability to direct conversations, bless him and the speed with which he reminds zhongli of the necessary urgency when working at the funeral parlor, successfully sending the man on his way, even if he gives you another searching look as he does.

“sorry,” aether said, giving your had a squeeze as he approached shitou’s table. “he’s probably cautious because you look like the creator.”

you return it, staying quiet as he hands over the jade and only speaking up once the two of you turn around towards the closer waypoint. “it’s alright. thank you for talking to him.”

he flashed you a smile, putting one hand on the waypoint. “of course. it’s the least i could do.”

liyue fell away in a flash of white, the familiar music of the realm within washing away any lingering feaf or unease from talking to zhongli.

maybe one day you’d come clean, stop lying about reading information from his library. maybe you’d tell him, maybe you’d confess to how crystalflies always seemed to follow you, the wind always at your back.

“what would you like for lunch?” aether called, pulling down ingredients from various cabinets before you even answer because he knows what you’ll say.

“surprise me,” you reply, and he chuckles. the same answer, every time, and every time he manages to find something new to make you.

today you would keep quiet again, as you had every other day. today you would root through the pantry when he forgot the flour, today you would set the table and pull out some paper, asking him about whether or not they had silkworm farms if silk flowers were so common, at least in liyue.

today he would smile, and today he would answer, and maybe tomorrow you’d tell him something he couldn’t reply to.

but that was tomorrow. and this was today.

#baby cat anon #WELCOME BTW HELLO HI SORRY IM SO LATE #genshin #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #sagau aether #aether #aether x reader #sagau x reader #fluff #sagau fluff #genshin fluff #aether fluff #genshin x reader #gender neutral reader #sorry besties ✌️ math and anxiety over my ap class has been kickin my ASS lowkey #only thing in my head is a specific flavor of hurt comfort (oh god could i adapt that into a reverse isekai) and on occasion zhongli #head empty. no juice only hatred for my statistics class #BUT. I ONLY HAVE A CHAPTER LEFT. WHICH SHOULDNT TAKE LONG I HOPE TO GOD #oh GOSH i missed writing for genshin actually wtf #oh man i was so lost in the statistics sauce i forgot how nice it is to be soft sometimes. shit.#anyway play nice with this piece or rip it to shreds idc i know it’s not my best work by a LOOONG shot

897 notes · View notes

kwanisms · 1 year

Text

[13:00], Hongjoong, requested by anon

╰┈➤ M27 "I cannot possibly focus with your damn hand in my-"

summary: your boyfriend invited you to visit him in his studio

wc: 1.3k

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content: handjob (m receiving), hair pulling, and unprotected sex (use protection!!!)

a/n: Jesus u did not have to put this in my head but hot DAMN am i glad you did! I hope you like it as much as i liked writing it!

tagging @rdiamond2727 cause she asked me to (again) >:) also tagging @yoonguurt and @leadinglady17 cause I can >:D

════════════════════════════════

It had been over an hour since you'd arrived at Hongjoong's studio. He'd been in deep focus with the song he was working on, muttering under his breath with Eden when you arrived with his favorite takeout.

Eden took that as his cue to leave, knowing you'd prefer to spend some alone time with your boyfriend.

It was a nice time, just sitting there and eating while Hongjoong told you about his day and caught you up to speed on what he was working on and what he was excited for.

It was always a treat for you to see him in such a state. In his element so to speak that it never bothered you once when he went off the rails on whatever conversation you were having.

However, since it was him who invited you over to begin with, you were starting to get a little… antsy waiting for him to finish whatever project he was working on. Normally it didn’t bother you to wait for him to finish but tonight for some reason, you were getting impatient.

Maybe it was just because he had been the one to invite you over. Maybe it was because he looked so damn good in those sweats. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been intimate in a while.

Whatever the reason, you were starting to get… needy.

Hongjoong seemed to be oblivious when you got up from the small black leather sofa in the back of the studio and moved to sit in the chair Eden had previously been sitting in. Hongjoong glanced over at you, flashing you a smile but went back to his computer, focused on the screen.

You took the opportunity to look him over, taking in all his features and the way the light from the computer screen shone on his face.

He was barely bobbing his head to whatever music was playing through the beats he was wearing, hands resting near his keyboard as he most likely repeated a section of his project over and over to make sure it sounded the way he wanted it to.

He didn’t move when you leaned in closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. He merely smiled at your proximity and continued working. He didn’t even flinch when your hand moved to his arm, resting against his bicep.

He was so focused on his work that he only reacted when you kissed his neck. He giggled, whispering that it tickled. You rested your chin on his shoulder, your hand moving to the back of his neck and playing with the hair at the base of his head.

He loved it when you played with his hair but you also knew exactly how much it turned him on when you tugged on it, even playfully.

And that’s exactly what you did. Lightly tugging but playing it off as you combed your fingers through his locks. That combined with the occasional kisses to his neck had the exact effect on him you wanted and you could see him getting hard.

‘Jackpot.’

As carefully as you could, you scooted closer, closing the distance between your chairs as much as you could and continued to tug at his hair, lips moving against the skin of his neck until you heard him sigh, tilting his head away to give you more access.

You looked up to see his eyes flutter shut and took that opportunity to sneak your free hand down to rest on his thigh.

“Babe,” he said softly, more of a warning than anything else.

“I need to finish this,” he whined, trying to pull himself together, opening his eyes and resuming his work.

You weren’t going to give up that easily though.

Your hand on his thigh slid up, fingers skimming over his obvious erection. You watched as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth but his eyes stayed glued to his screen.

Your hand continued up, fingers toying with the waistband of his sweats but he said nothing nor made any move to stop you. You could almost see the wheels in his head turning as he tried to process what to do.

You took that lapse in his focus to slip your hand inside his pants and boxers, finding his cock quickly and wrapped your fingers around him, making him hiss. “Yah, Y/N,” he whined. “I’m trying to work,” he added, lips twitching as he tried not to smirk.

You looked up at him, blinking innocently. “I’m not doing anything,” you murmured. Hongjoong scoffed, rolling his eyes but said nothing. You waited for him to relax under your touch before moving again.

Hongjoong let out a groan, head falling back against the headrest of his chair as you slowly began to stroke him, watching his lips part and feeling a small sense of pride at being the cause for his lack of focus.

“What’s wrong, Joongie?” You asked innocently. “I thought you had work to do.”

Hongjoong’s eyes snapped open and he turned his head to look at you, fixing you with a semi-stern glare. “Work? Work??” He asked, hips bucking up into your hand.

“I cannot possibly focus with your damn hand in my—”

He couldn’t finish his sentence because the next second your lips were on his in a rushed and heated kiss, hand still stroking him in his pants.

“Fuck,” Hongjoong groaned as he pulled back from the kiss. He turned his chair to face you, pulling your hand and his cock out of his pants and pulled you up out of your seat. “Fine,” he growled as he pulled you onto his lap, thankful for the skirt you decided to wear.

You pulled your panties to the side and sank down on him quickly, moaning at the sudden intrusion.

“I’ve been waiting an hour for this,” you whined, resting your hands on his shoulders as you circled your hips, leaning in to kiss him as his hips grabbed your ass, guiding your hips to roll against him.

“Sorry I made you wait,” he murmured against your lips as you slowly rode him.

“You can make it up to me now,” you breathed, lifting up and sinking back down slowly, taking as much of his cock as you could in this position. Hongjoong reached over to the desk, pushing his keyboard and other computer accessories out of the way before wrapping both arms around you and standing up to set you on the edge of the desk.

He thrust into you, making you cry out at the force as he set a quick and punishing pace, pounding into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cursed as you tried to hold onto him. “Holy shit, Joong.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted, baby?” He asked, a smirk on his face. The same smirk you usually saw on stage or when you were in the bedroom. “For me to fuck you?”

Unable to speak because of how he was fucking you into oblivion, you opted for nodding vigorously. Hongjoong chuckled as he continued to thrust into you.

“Can’t even speak? What a dumb, needy, little slut.”

Normally those words would sting, hurt your ego, but for some reason when Hongjoong said them now, it only made you moan, the familiar building tension in your lower abdomen starting.

Hongjoong knew you well enough that you were getting close and it only made him laugh lightly again.

“So close already, baby?” He asked. You nodded wordlessly.

Hongjoong gave you a particularly hard thrust and caused you to cry out. “Words, baby girl,” he commanded and you obeyed instantly.

“Yes!”

Hongjoong moved one of his hands up to cup your cheek. “Good girl,” he replied.

“Now come for me,” he added.

All it took was those four words to have you coming with a mewl of his name, your toes curling and eyes rolling back as Hongjoong helped you ride out your orgasm.

As you came down, you looked up at your boyfriend, eyes focusing on him as he watched you come back to reality. “Jesus Christ, Joong,” you whined. His hips has slowed to a roll as he helped you come down.

“Oh I’m not done,” he said, snapping his hips forward.

“You had yours, now it’s my turn.”

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez timestamps #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong timestamp #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #kwanisms timestamp event

2K notes · View notes

yunhohours · 1 year

Text

Just a Little

✗ Pairing: needy!bf!mingyu x fem!reader

✗ Word count: 2.3k

✗ Warnings: sub!mingyu in the sense that mingyu literally begs to make reader cum, reader is a lil mean maybe??, oral (f. receiving)

✗ A/N: i wrote this in one sitting without re-reading it for one of my anons so if it sucks then it sucks <3

You close the oven with one hand and shimmy the oven mitt off your other hand, relieved to finally be in the waiting process. It took everything in you to not just eat the brownie batter out of the bowl, but these brownies weren’t for you–they were for a fundraiser. You can’t remember exactly what the fundraiser is for, but you know that you volunteered to bake a little something to support it when your mom brought it up. You would’ve forgotten about it altogether had she not called you a few hours ago, reminding you to bring the brownies over first thing the next morning.

You had dragged Mingyu with you to the grocery store to grab a few necessary ingredients, but insisted that he keep himself occupied in the other room while you were baking. You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the brownie batter the way you can. You have pretty good control of your urges, generally speaking. You can’t say the same for him. When he wants something, he can’t think about anything else until he gets it.

You set a timer on your phone and switch your volume on, making your way to the living room where Mingyu is sat watching tv. Your eyes drift to the television but your body is headed straight for Mingyu. “What’re you watching?” You ask, easily dropping your weight into his lap, eyes still glued to the tv. It’s obviously a cooking show of some sort so you really didn’t need to ask, but it’s probably more polite to show interest.

“Oh… nothing really. It’s just what was on when I turned on the tv.” His arms wrap around your waist, hugging your back to his chest. You hum, placing one of your hands over his arms and relax into him. The more you watch the screen, the more you can understand why Mingyu didn’t change the channel. It’s quite fascinating watching the creative process, even for things like food.

You let yourself get immersed in the show with the knowledge that you have a good bit of time until you have to head back to the kitchen. Mingyu, on the other hand, seems to have lost interest. You don’t notice at first. How could you when your attention is elsewhere?

You don’t notice when he starts pressing soft kisses to the back of your neck, just stretching your neck for him instinctively when he does so. You don’t notice when his arms unravel themselves from your waist, hands seeking purchase on the tops of your thighs instead.

You only notice when his hands are drifting upwards and inwards, giving themselves access up your skirt. You swat one of his hands with yours, your brows knit together in annoyance. “Mingyu, behave.”

He sighs heavily from behind you, restless fingernails scratching the tops of your thigh as he tries to listen. You can feel him fully hardened beneath you and you’re not sure when that happened, but fuck, you didn’t even have to do anything. He stills for a minute or two, then his hands are wandering again, albeit more stealthily this time.

“Mingyu, if you think I don’t realize what you’re doing, you’re an idiot.”

He groans, but it sounds like the kind you’d get from a child when you tell them they can’t buy the new toy they snuck into the shopping cart, no matter how many times they ask. It almost makes you laugh, but you don’t want to give him that. Then he’ll think you’re softening for him and try to push his luck.

“Babe,” he whines, “Can’t I just have a little?”

You turn your head to the side, eyes narrowed as you take in his pleading eyes. “A little what, Mingyu? Can’t even be in the room with me for five minutes without trying to stuff your cock in me?”

“No!” It was a lot louder and more defensive than he meant for it to sound, probably. “I mean–” He stumbles over his words, cheeks reddening and a nervous smile taking up residence on his face.

You arch a brow, urging him silently to continue whatever excuse he was going to give you.

“I just want to make you cum so bad, y/n. Please?” His hands are kneading your thighs, but is it an effort to persuade you or soothe himself?

You roll your eyes and stand up, fighting his grasping hands that try to keep you planted on his lap. “I’m going to wait the rest of the time in the kitchen. Maybe this horndog will suddenly turn back into Mingyu by the time I come back.”

You huff when you reach the kitchen again, frustrated that your plan of zoning out until the brownies were ready was nipped in the bud. You easily could’ve lost time to that show if Mingyu would’ve left you be. Now what?

You ponder your options, but there aren’t many, so you resign yourself to switching between apps on your phone. You can feel the frown on your face as you lean against one of the counters, opening tiktok. You don’t even like tiktok, but it’s certainly a time waster. You’re hopeful it will come through for you right now.

You’re only about four videos deep into your feed when you sense a presence in the room with you. You lift your eyes only enough to confirm that it is, indeed, Mingyu, hovering by the entryway like a kicked puppy. You feel yourself soften at the sight, but you don’t let it show. Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile.

“Y/n,” he pouts, that same child-like whine in his tone. You force your eyes back to your screen, every intention of ignoring him. He can get so fucking needy.

Admittedly, you love this about him. Who wouldn’t want an impossibly handsome mammoth of a man to want them as badly as Mingyu always seems to want you? It’s a big fucking boost to your ego, that’s for sure. Not to mention, he is the best boyfriend in the entire world. He does everything for you without even being asked and never complains. He keeps you on a pedestal and worships at your feet. Really, you should be counting your lucky stars.

Mingyu may as well have floated over to you with how light his heavy feet are. He’s being careful as he approaches you, not wanting to make any sudden movements. You force down another laugh, even though it makes you feel kinda bad. He rests his chin on the top of your phone so you have to see his soft eyes if you want to use it. He looks so small for such a big guy.

“Y/nnnnnn.” Fuck. He’s so cute.

“Yes, Mingyu?”

“I’m sorry.”

He is, you can tell. Now you feel like an asshole. You hadn’t meant to make him feel that bad about it. You were mostly just pushing his buttons for being so needy. You lean forward and peck his lips to reassure him that you’re not actually mad, even if you were being a little snippy. “S’okay, Gyu. Why were you so ravenous anyway?”

His cheeks are turning rosy again. “It’s just… That skirt.” His hand cautiously finds the hem of your skirt, fingering it gently. “Knowing that I can just slip under it and have the taste of you on my tongue drives me crazy, y/n.” There’s that whine again.

You can feel heat in your own cheeks now, wafting down your body in waves until it’s warming your core. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to figure out what move you want to make next. “Mhmm? Thought you wanted to fuck me. You were so hard when I was in your lap.”

Mingyu shakes his head adamantly, lashes batting with such innocence it makes your core throb. “Don’t even want to cum,” he mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours–a sharp reminder that he is still, in fact, huge. Your breath catches in your throat. “Just want you to cum on my tongue. Need it so bad.”

This time, you groan. You angle your head towards the ceiling, closing your eyes as you try to find that self control you swear you have. It’s hard to find it when your body is buzzing, aching to feel Mingyu’s tongue lapping at your folds. It’s hard to find when Mingyu hums, dipping his head to press kisses just under your ear, his low voice seeking permission. “Promise I’ll make you feel good.” He kisses down your neck and across your shoulder, large hand pulling the collar of your shirt out of his way as necessary before making his way back to your ear. “Please, y/n?”

His last plea sounds so pathetic you simply can’t resist him anymore.

You tangle your hand in his hair with one hand, the other lifting your phone back to your line of sight so you can check the timer. You toss it onto the counter when you’re done, pulling at Mingyu’s hair to make him look at you. This small motion rips a beautiful moan from his pretty lips, only emphasizing the sheer desperation you already knew was there. “You’ve got fifteen minutes. Better make me cum, Gyu.”

“I promise, I promise.” He is practically chanting, eyes wide and eager.

You release his hair and he immediately drops down, hiking your leg up over his shoulder as he nuzzles his head between your thighs. He normally takes his time–pressing kisses into every inch of skin he can reach, massaging your thighs, telling you how beautiful you are time and time again–but he’s on a time crunch and he’s been practically drooling for this moment. He bypasses all of that, fingers pulling your panties to the side at the same time as his tongue snakes out to lick a stripe up your slit. He moans when he does it and you can feel your arousal leaking out in response.

God, he’s obsessed with you. That’s so fucking hot.

Mingyu finds your hand with one of his, lacing his fingers through yours as his tongue hones in on your clit, his movements much swifter and more pressurized than they would normally be this soon. “Fuck, Mingyu,” you moan and he moans back. He has always gotten drunk off of the sound of your pleasure, specifically when it’s his name falling on his ears. You dig your heel into his upper back for more balance, head lolling back on your shoulders as his tongue drags through your folds and back up again. Rinse, repeat.

You reach your free hand down to flap your skirt up against your stomach so you can see Mingyu’s pretty face. His eyes are closed contentedly and the sight of him having a sloppy makeout session with your pussy makes your already labored breathing stagger even more. He looks like he’d live here between your legs if you let him. You push his hair back away from his forehead, letting your hand rest in his hair. “Doing so good for me, Gyu.” His eyelashes flutter open for just a moment to soak in your praise and then he’s back to business, eyes closed as he dips his tongue inside you.

You cry out much louder than you’d expected. You hadn’t realized you were that worked up, but Mingyu fucking his tongue as deep into your cunt as he can reach is too much. The lewd sounds of his mouth meeting your arousal are too much. He’s determined, persistent. You’re not sure if he’s fucking you for minutes or only seconds. You only know you don’t want him to stop. “M-Mingyu–”

Mingyu looks up at you, slowing his tongue and letting it just twist around inside you as he squeezes your hand. You know him. You know he’s checking in with you, giving you the opportunity to tell him to stop, to do something differently. You don’t.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you breathe out, grinding your hips up against his all-too-perfect face. Mingyu practically purrs into your pussy as he resumes tonguing it, his pace quickening as his head bobs from the thoroughness. The hand that’s not holding yours seeks out your clit, pressing into the swollen bud and making your legs quake. You’re at the top of the cliff and you’re seconds away from tumbling over the edge.

You decide to throw yourself over, squeezing and pulling at Mingyu’s hand and his hair as you fuck yourself on his tongue. He hums and moans his satisfaction as you use him, your own jaw slack from the incessant silent cries of pleasure. The second you cum is evident not only in the way you feel but in the way Mingyu groans, savoring the taste. He works you through it and then carefully retreats, not daring to push you into overstimulation when you’ve already been nice enough to let him give you an orgasm.

He beams up at you, adorable fangs sparkling before he licks his lips clean. “Taste so good.” His voice is as sweet as honey now, pressing the soft kisses into your thighs that he would normally give you before getting you off. He always takes care of you.

You hum and let your body go limp for a bit, spent and a little tired from grinding yourself so aggressively onto his face. You feel Mingyu start to kiss each part of you–your hips, your stomach, your–

And then the timer is going off and fuck, it’s so loud and you’re so exhausted. You blindly reach for your phone on the counter, not bothering to look as your hand bounces around in search of it, but there’s no need. The timer stops and you peek an eye open just in time to catch Mingyu placing the phone back down. He always takes care of you.

He gently lifts your hips, placing you fully on the counter with a kiss to your forehead. “You rest, mm? Let me do it for you.”

And so he does. He always does.

#th: mingyu #th: svt #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut

827 notes · View notes