#kthd

[1kook]

sucking your boyfriend tae stupid. mhm mhm

The minute he had walked into the party, shirt one button too loose, you knew you had to intervene.

Big parties always made Taehyung’s ego swell. Your boyfriend was all too aware of his hotness, knew he was the sole recipient of everyone’s lustful gazes everywhere he went. And while his confidence was wonderful, there were times where he needed to be gently knocked down a peg.

“Ffffuck,” he groans, the usual low tenor of his voice nowhere to be seen as your lips slowly descended down the length of his cock. It makes him double over, hands antsy to push you down. But he knows better than to do that, settles on placing those trembling fingers against the edge of the sink behind him. His shirt— still open —flutters from the movement, gives you a peek of his brown nipples.

He’s so needy, your name tumbling off his lips like he’s a broken record that just won’t stop skipping. “Baby, can you just— oh, fuck,” he groans, hips bucking against you.

You’ve got your cheeks hollowed out, trying your best to replicate the tightness of your pussy with your mouth. It’s something Tae appreciates, singing his praises for you with each bob of your head. “Just like— just like that,” he shivers, looking down at you with watery eyes just begging for a release.

Upon drawing away, you let the tip of your tongue flick across the slit of his swollen head, your efforts rewarded with a sob from Taehyung and a pearly bead of pre-cum. You catch it with your tongue, nearly laugh at the whimper that escapes your boyfriend, before diving back in. “Fuck— baby, I- I love you,” he blubbers, eyes blown wide as he watches you take him all the way down, the tip of your nose hidden by the unruly curls at the base of his cock. “I love you— I love you,” Taehyung cries, before spurting down your throat.

[moonhoures]

Hi! For the prompt thing, can I request (preferably for bts but really anyone) hogwarts au, secret relationship, quote number 40? Thank you ❤️

6. hogwarts!au + 10. secret relationship + 40. “you never once worried about me”

It broke Taehyung everyday. The sneaking around. The secrecy. The forbiddenness of it all. He just wanted to be able to walk the halls with your hand in his and pass you love letters across your table in Potions without a care in the world of someone seeing. But no, he had to resort to the late night scribbles in his notebook that only you could see in yours, using a spell he had found in one of the textbooks he borrowed from the library. He found solace in meeting you in secret corners using the Marauder’s map late at night.

It broke you, too, but it would pain you even more if your parents learned of your relationship. You never cared about the politics of it all, but you were born to a family of snooty pure bloods who didn’t take lightly to muggles and their mudblood children—which Taehyung was. So, to keep the sanctity of your love, it had to be kept secret.

On one, rainy Wednesday afternoon you and your boyfriend planned to meet outside of the boys’ bathroom in an abandoned part of the castle. It seemed no one ever went in that area unless it was a teacher, and they would just write you two off as pesky kids. So you didn’t worry too much. That wasn’t until you were waiting outside of the restroom when your ex boyfriend turned the corner, looking up to no good as usual.

“What are you doing here, _________?” he asked, a mischievous smirk adorning his face, “Looking for your lover?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m waiting for Dayoung. Not that it’s any of your business, though,” you avoided his prying gaze by looking down at the wall in front of you, the subject of the painting on it missing but surely hopping from art-to-art somewhere else in the castle.

“Don’t act innocent. Dayoung is in the dining hall. I know you’re waiting for Taehyung. You should be careful, though, wouldn’t want your parents to find about him.”

You looked up at the boy with narrowed eyes, “Taehyung and I are just friends, Jimin.”

“Right,” he agreed, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Then you wouldn’t mind if I asked you to give me a second chance? We were great together, weren’t we?”

“Absolutely not.”

The raven-haired boy placed his hand to his chest, feigning a look of mild offense, “Don’t be like that, doll. Taehyung won’t mind. He’s too much of a coward to raise his hand in class, let alone to speak to me.”

Usually you could hold back your tongue when Jimin approached you like this, but you couldn’t let him speak about Taehyung like this. Taehyung was a quiet person, but he was like that by choice. He preferred to stick his energy into studying—and now his relationship with you.

“You know what, Jimin, I’m just going to tell you right now so you can stop asking: No. I don’t want to go out with you again because we never worked! Taehyung may be quiet but he cares about me. He tells me he loves me, and he worries about me when I’m not feeling my best. You never once worried about me, Jimin. I couldn’t care less about his bloodline or what my parents will think about him, because I care about him and that’s all that matters. So, go ahead. Tell my parents.”

Jimin stared at you with a look you couldn’t quite describe, but you knew it wasn’t good. Without another word or snarky comment, he stalked off down the hallway. You watched his figure disappear around the corner just as you heard the faint squeak of a shoe against the tiled floor. You turned around, preparing yourself to be scolded by a teacher, but your shoulders relaxed when you saw Taehyung leaning against the wall.

“Did you mean that?” he asked, a hint of a smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Mean what?”

“That you don’t care if your parents find out, because I’m really tired of all the sneaking around.”

“Me too,” you sighed, approaching him with open arms until you were in his embrace, “I’m sorry for making us do that for so long.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” he placed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head before pulling away and taking your hand in his, “Now I can finally hold your hand in the hallways!”

[1kook]

taehyung + brother’s best friend pls yami i beg of thee 😵‍💫

why da hell this get so long

Taehyung comes up with the code.

Your brother is home for the summer, spends all his time lounging around the living room and bothering you every chance he gets. Up until recently, he spent the last few months off on the other side of the country attending grad school for some fancy degree you don’t understand. And while you may have missed his presence in your everyday life, his appearance back home cuts greatly into the amount of time you get to spend with Taehyung. You know, your brother’s best friend.

(It’s messy.)

“Just tell him you’re going for a run,” Taehyung had suggested, his face tiny on your phone screen. He’s standing some feet away from his own phone, patting in his moisturizer fresh out of the shower. He looks good, ridiculously sexy with his towel clinging to his waist. You‘re practically drooling at the sight.

Normally, you’d take the opportunity to rope him into some well-deserved phone sex— FaceTime sex, where he groans and grunts all while showing you his pretty cock squeezed between his fist—because you’re off work today, your parents are out on a date, and Taehyung’s rich dad and only roommate spends most of his time traveling overseas. But with your brother home, you have this totally rational fear that he’ll hear you. Even worse, walk in on you. Which is super embarrassing in itself, but even more terrifying when you consider the fact he’d also be hearing his best friend of two decades, Kim Taehyung, orgasming over the line.

Yeah, it’s a huge risk.

“I don’t go on runs,” you huff, freely letting your eyes wander over the length of Taehyung’s body. Even this FaceTime call is risky; while you and your brother’s best friend aren’t strangers, you weren’t exactly this close when he left. Your headphones are securely pushed into your ears, your entire body on high alert for even the most subtle creaking of the floorboards. “But I really wanna see you.”

By now, Taehyung’s finished with his post-shower routine, leaning against the bathroom counter to level you with a gentle smile. “Then come see me, doll,” he smiles, and you’re very weak. Powering through the nerves, you slip on the sportiest, I’m-going-for-a-run outfit you can find, sending Taehyung a kiss over the phone before hanging up.

As predicted, your brother is occupying the living room couch, watching some boring TV show when you get there. At the sight of you, his face scrunches up in confusion. “Where are you going?” he asks.

You shrug, casually stuffing your keys into the pocket of your shorts. “For a run,” you respond, just as Taehyung had told you to.

Your brother scoffs. “Since when do you run?”

Which is exactly why you thought it wouldn’t work! Your heart hammers in your chest, and as much as you want to give up and crawl back to your room, you push on. Taehyung’s wet hair and soft smile are calling your name. You steel your nerves, offering him a halfhearted shrug as you approach the front door. “Well, y’know.”

And then, just as you said, you go for a run. You practically bolt over the front yard, taking off like an Olympic champion in the direction of Taehyung’s house before your brother can prod any further. He only lives a few blocks away, part of the reason he’s been your brother’s best friend for so long, but the distance feels like nothing as you sprint on with the vigor of a horny woman craving her lover.

Taehyung opens the door with a laugh. “Wow,” he says, welcoming you into his arms despite the sweat glistening on your skin. “You actually went for a run.”

Gasping for air, you barely manage to snap, “shut up.”

He doesn’t mind, just ushers you inside and helps you out of your shoes. Taehyung is wearing clothes now, which really puts a damper on the dripping wet, post-shower image of him that had fueled you on your way here. But you comfort yourself with the fact he’ll probably be naked again soon.

Real soon.

Five minutes later finds the two of you languidly kissing on his bed, clothing haphazardly kicked away. Taehyung’s skin is still warm, super soft from his shower. You can’t get enough of him, running your hands over every inch of his body. He chuckles, muffling the sound against your neck. “I’m right here,” he mumbles, pressing kisses against your skin.

And he is, which is way better than over the phone. Nude and horny, he sits up and helps guide you between his legs, has you kneel in front of him. Taehyung’s cock is just as lewd in real life, his tip engorged and red, dripping with pre-cum that coats your fingers when you reach for him. He likes to give and receive in equal parts, pops his fingers into his mouth and then into your throbbing entrance. “Oh,” you sigh, back jolting as he works his digits in.

“Oh,” he repeats, a playful jab that you can’t even scold him for. As your hand trails down the length of his cock, his fingers push deeper inside, picking up a fast-paced rhythm that sends pulses of ecstasy throughout your body. He draws you along until you’re just at the edge, rubbing his thumb along your clit as you weakly buck into the touch. “Condom,” he husks, and you scramble to get it from his nightstand drawer, tremble so much that he eventually takes it away. “Cute,” Taehyung chuckles, helping position you over him as he slips into the rubber. “Go on, doll.”

The sweat you amassed on the run over to Taehyung’s house is nothing compared to the sweat that drips down your skin when you begin riding him. It runs between your breasts and down your spine in long trails, not that you particularly care as you bounce away on his lap. Taehyung looks delectable beneath you, head propped against one arm as he watches you work for it. His hair is fluffy from his shower— which you realize was pointless now —and covers his forehead. “That’s it,” he pants, his other hand on your waist, guiding your hips over him.

“Tae,” you gasp, hands propped behind you, palms against the top of his thighs as you roll ur hips over him. Your thighs ache from the run and from the bouncing, a searing pain running along the length of your muscles. “I— help, please,” you whine, shuddering after a particularly heavenly grind of his cock against your walls.

“Sure thing,” he hums, reaching for you with both hands only to tug you closer onto his lap. Your walls clench around him, suck him in further and tighter as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Ha— cute,” Taehyung says, never mind the fact you’re sweating like a pig at a summer fair.

Your pussy squelches with each of Taehyung’s upward thrusts, but it’s not the only part of you that is slippery and wet. The spot behind your knees is absolutely sweaty, as is the nape of your neck. “S- Sorry,” you manage to stammer, repositioning yourself so your hands are against Taehyung’s abdomen now, crying out at the way his tip grinds against your sweet spot. “I’m s- so sweaty.”

At that, Taehyung laughs. “Just a little,” he says, but you know he’s embellishing the truth. He’s always been like this, even when you were kids. Even when you were just his best friend’s crybaby little sister, he was always quick to make you feel better. Beneath you, Taehyung groans, smile momentarily slipping as he loses himself in the feeling. It motivates you to do more, purposefully tightening around him just so he can feel the drag of your folds against his cock.

You come soon enough, spasm and cry out his name in an airy voice that makes Taehyung grin. He follows quietly, just locks up and then busts into the condom. He’s always extra caring and doting after sex, drowns you in a sea of kisses and cuddles as you calm your racing heart. “I need a shower,” he sighs, and throws you a goofy smile, “again.”

You sit up. “Lemme join yo—“

“Nope,” Taehyung announces, slipping out from beneath his sheets. Buck naked and handsome, you nearly miss his next words. “You just went on a run, remember?”

[1kook]

requests you say 😈😈😈 *rubs hands mesheviously* TAE + DILF LIKE DAD OR SOMETHING FATHER W CHILDSOMETHING W DAD!!!

srry I couldn’t write tae yelling at a baby 😭

In the three years since your son was born, you can count on one hand the amount of times Taehyung’s seriously scolded Jae. Taehyung was always the milder of the two of you, preferred to respond to bad behavior with silent yet stern glares rather than outright screaming at your kid. But you suppose even people like Taehyung couldn’t hold it together all the time.

You see it first.

As you’re exiting the downstairs bathroom, your eye catches on an obnoxiously red streak running along the length of your hallway, the soft grey paint marred. Instantly, your heart catches in your throat, distress growing and growing as you trail it down the hall and into the living room. There, your only son sits pressed against the wall, chubby hands awkwardly holding a red crayon. At the sound of your slippers dragging across the floor, he stops and turns around, levels you with a wonky smile, missing tooth and all.

Not a single parenting blog could have prepared you for the influx of emotions that flood you in that moment. Disbelief mixed with amusement mixed with disappointment. Do you laugh or do you cry? Here was your son, stretching that same criminal hand out for you to take as he scribbled absolute gibberish against the wall.

The chaos of emotions whirling within you in cut short by the voice that drifts out from behind you. “What the…” Taehyung mumbles, and then you get to listen in as his own slippers drag across the hardwood floor, slowly increasing in speed (probably fueled by his equally increasing panic) the closer he gets. And then he appears behind you. His eyes are dark, wide, looking so much like the little boy in front of you. The only difference is that while Jae blinks on innocently, Taehyung’s eyes narrow into two slits. Then: “what do you think you’re doing?”

Your child pauses, and for some reason, you do too. In Jae’s eyes, you can visibly see the excitement over the novelty of his artwork slowly slipping away. “Drawin’,” he responds quietly, hand lowering from its position poised against the wall.

Without missing a beat, Taehyung seethes, “go to your room.”

He doesn’t yell, you don’t think he can. But the cold tone in Taehyung’s voice is enough to make even you shiver, never mind the child in front of you. Jae doesn’t complain, doesn’t even ask why like he usually does; even he knows that when his dad gets this mad, it’s usually because he’s done something very bad. He scrambles to his feet and rushes past the two of you, shooting you big worried eyes the whole way through. The moment he’s gone, Taehyung slumps forward, steadying himself against the wall.

“Too mean?” he asks you, lets you slink your arms around his waist.

You shake your head. “No,” you say. Faintly, you can feel the beginnings of a headache throbbing throughout your mind, the mere idea of having to scrub the red crayon off the walls enough to make you groan. “Gosh, I want to cry.”

He returns the comfort, rubs his hands against your back. “If it makes you feel better, so did Jae,” he tries, and against your better judgement, you laugh.

[1kook]

mm dont know if drabbles r still open but ummm kook fingering yn in front of the boys 👀👀 or is that too much 😭😭

Taehyung knows.

You know he knows because he won’t break eye contact. That first glance, that first curious peek he chanced in yours and Jungkook’s direction behind the counter told him all he needed to know. He knew, he knew, your brain screams, and yet he won’t look away.

“He’s watching you, baby,” Jungkook murmurs against your ear, hand working dutifully beneath your skirt. The mountainous stack of groceries on the island is supposed to save you, protect you from any wandering eyes. The rest of the guys had gone off to their rooms or outside. But not Taehyung.

Your hand tightens on the counter, lip raw between your teeth as Jungkook continues his gentle motions around your clit. Your knees buckle, and he saves you by pressing you against the edge of the counter with his dick against your ass. A whimper escapes, one you barely bite down. “Say his name,” Jungkook commands softly.

You shake your head, chest heaving from exertion. A finger dips into your core, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. “Say it,” he sneers.

You gulp. “T-Tae.” It’s a whisper Jungkook doesn’t approve of.

“Louder,” he says, pushing his finger in so deep, his rings brush against your folds. “Let him hear you.”

“Tae… Taehyung,” you whimper. Said boy’s eyes widen, obviously shocked that you have decided to take the bolder of two routes and acknowledge him. Jungkook bites against your neck, says something that sounds like again. “Tae...Hyung,” you moan, thighs quivering. His name slips from your lips, over and over while Jungkook curls his fingers inside of you. You almost forget the impact of your words, the weight they carry, until a warm presence steps beside you.

“What is it, doll?” someone says.

It’s not Jungkook.

[1kook]

friends2lovers! with tae aka idiots to lovers please :(

Everyone knows he likes you; Taehyung knows everyone knows he likes you.

Everyone knows Taehyung is madly, stupidly, crazily in love with you, except you.

“Hi, silly,” you beam, too loud to be inside the campus library, but Taehyung doesn’t want to tell you off, not when your smile is aimed at him. Seokjin, the other library assistant besides Taehyung, gives him this look, one that screams you are being so obvious, but Taehyung can’t be bothered. “I brought coffee.”

It’s his favorite, the order he never has to update you about, but you somehow always remember. You’re a really good listener, he thinks to himself, letting you squeeze behind the desk with him and Jin. And if you’re not a good listener, you’re just a good person overall. You know when he’s feeling down without him telling you, when school becomes too much, when he wants to let loose. You know him so well, and somehow, you don’t know his heart at all.

“I’m going for lunch,” Seokjin announces, leaving his chair empty for you to sit in. He does this every time they work together, purposefully leaves so Taehyung can be alone with you. You don’t waste a second, plop down on his seat and roll up beside Taehyung.

“Jin says they’re giving us a new schedule soon” he says casually, tapping away at his computer. He hopes the clicking of the keys is louder than the thundering of his heart. You’re so close, elbow brushing against his as you mindlessly reorganize his pens in the way he likes. Someone comes in, one of the soccer players who went to state last school year, and waves at you. You wave back, smile prettily. Taehyung’s heart sinks.

“That sucks,” you say, finishing your task only to turn and look at him. His cheeks feel warm. “So when are your hours going to be?”

He shrugs, shuffles some folders around on his screen. “I don’t know. I’m fine with anything anyway.”

You scoff, a soft sound that gets lost over the printer when it turns on. “Well I’m not,” you mumble, foot nudging against his. He looks your way, catches your gaze as you rest your head in your arms. “What if I can’t bring you coffee anymore?”

The cutest little pout decorates your features, hand reaching out for the one he has on the mouse, until your pinkies brush. Taehyung’s head feels fuzzy. “I- I can always just ask Jin to bring some back from lunch,” he replies, looking away before the expression on his face can give him away anymore. He doesn’t see the frown on yours.

[1kook]

first responder taehyung+a clumsy oc=sparks flying after he takes care of her after a minor accident

After your third accidental fire alarm call, in which you had oh-so-elegantly burnt a Hot Pocket in the staff break room and consequently set off the smoke detector alerting the fire department, you’re convinced Captain Kim thinks you’re an idiot.

“A Hot Pocket, huh,” he says, carrying the offending piece of evidence out in a tiny ziplock bag like you’re some criminal framed for arson. You’re not. You’re just really bad with microwaves. Still, Kim Taehyung is very nice about it. “It was a terrible lunch anyway,” he jokes, discarding the crisped food in one of the many garbage bins scattered throughout the city streets. Because that’s where you and the rest of your coworkers are right now, standing around on the sidewalk outside your small company while the firemen do their mandatory inspection of the building. It’s beyond embarrassing.

“Listen,” you stammer, acutely aware of all the dirty looks your coworkers send you. They don’t even have to ask to know it’s your fault— again —so you don’t bother being offended anyway. “I was watching it, I swear! I never once left the room, and I—“

“Am not sure how it happened,” he finishes for you with a grin, suavely tugging off his gloves to tuck into the waist and of his uniform. It’s the same excuse you gave the last two times. “Same excuses, Miss __,” he tuts, but he’s got this rather amused look on his face, this soft glint in his eyes that makes you bite your lip nervously.

“Just __ is fine,” you tell him, “and you’re right— it was a bad lunch.” A car honks somewhere behind you, the bustling street a stark reminder of your own incompetence. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

Taehyung hums, reaching for a notepad strapped into the harness of his uniform. Oh, no— was he going to fine you for this? Can you get fined for accidentally calling the firemen? Probably, but it was an accident! You swear!

A few scribbles on the sheet and then he’s abruptly ripping it out from the rest of the notepad. “Don’t worry about next time,” he says solemnly. Your heart sinks, meekly taking the paper in your hand. “I’ll be there to make sure you don’t start any fires.”

You blink, glancing at the paper he’s handed you only to find a string of numbers hastily written down. Your area number and then— your heart thunders in your chest as you glance back up at Captain Kim with wide eyes. “Is this—“

A soft wink, a tiny smile. “Is lunch for tomorrow fine?”

[1kook]

GURL i need a sequel to that taehyung drabble or else im sueing

word count: 0.9k

[ part 1 ]

The bad thing about Taehyung is that, despite having been separated  for months now, the two of you still had the tendency to naturally gravitate towards each other. Simple routines, like visiting each other’s favorite cafes or frequenting the others preferred clubs, was hard to leave behind, simply because you came to adore many of the same things in your own unique way.

Out of all the places to run into him, it’s the bread aisle at the supermarket. “Oh, hello,” Taehyung exhales, chocolate gaze taking in your lame appearance, massive hoodie and some old grey leggings, the reusable shopping bag in your hand powering through what is probably its last day out, seams begging to split at the bottom.

You force a polite smile on your face, though with the way his brows furrow, you don’t doubt it looks more like a grimace. “Taehyung, hi,” you greet, making to move around him and his basket.

You’re still missing a few things, namely your comfort cereal for when it’s two in the morning and you can’t sleep because of one fluffy haired prince-turned-villain haunting your dreams, but you’ll save that for another day. “Nice seeing you,” you add, briskly walking down the isle and towards the checkout. However, one thing leads to another and before you know it you’re spending the money that would have been for your cereal on a bottle of wine. 

You needed it.

The little detour ends up being your downfall, because by the time you’re exiting the check out, someone else is too.

“Your bag is gonna rip,” Taehyung points out, gestures vaguely at the bag, and you nod at the obvious. He crumples his receipt, tosses it in the trash as the two of you try to exit at the same time. Not awkward at all, your brain screams.

He’s got his keys in hand by the time your feet touch the pavement of the parking lot, and just as you’re turning to start your walk home, he speaks again. “Hey… can we talk?”

You sigh, clutch your bag tightly to your shoulder. You have to count to ten in your head before you can look at him, and when you do he’s got that masked expression he had on the day the two of you broke up. “I’d rather not,” you admit, trying to exit as soon as possible and not have a breakdown in the supermarket parking lot.

“___,” he says, voice gentle. You used to adore when he’d say your name like that, like it was brand new to him no matter how many times he said it, but now it just brings a wave of heartbreak crashing down on you. “Please.”

“I have nothing to say to you, Taehyung,” you assert, pat yourself on the back for standing your ground.

Your victory is short lived. Just as you turn to bid him farewell for what you hope is the last time, the terrible sound of seams ripping fills the air, and you barely have time to pull the strap off your shoulder before your carton of eggs and bottle of wine is tumbling to the pavement.

The sickening crack gathers the attention of every employee in the parking lot, taking in the mess you’ve made, and every customer exiting behind you, watching with second-hand embarrassment. You want to die, want the ground to swallow you up whole so no one can see your scattered groceries and soaked shoes, so no one can see the tears of humiliation that spring to your eyes. But you can't, so you settle on tucking your chin against your chest.

There’s a hand on your shoulder carefully guiding you to the side, removing you from your puddle of wasted food and embarrassment. By the time you’ve regained a tiny percentage of your dignity back, you’re met with the sight of Taehyung, crouched on the floor and carefully picking your unharmed groceries out from the pile, tucking them into his bags.

“Here,” he says when he’s done, shoving a plastic bag your way. “My car’s over there.”

.

“Pretty girl,” he purrs, tongue laving across the skin of your neck. His hips are flush against your folds, the soft material of his boxers rubbing against your creamy clit, so wet and tender from the orgasm he had just bestowed upon you minutes earlier with his mouth. “How many times do I have to say it?”

You whimper, back arching beneath him when he finally tugs his cock out of its confines. “Tae,” you moan, knot your fingers in his hair, and when he presses his mouth against yours, you’re hit with wave after wave of memories. Of him in your room, just like this, doing everything in his power to make you feel like a queen.

“You need me, don’t you?” He hums, tugs your bottom lip between his teeth as he grinds his engorged cock against your folds. “Need me to take care of you.”

The tip of his cock breaches your entrance, sends a shock of pain up your toes and down your spine. Crying out, you let him stuff those words down your throat, let him tell you how much he misses you and how much he loves you until he’s buried to the hilt, the sparse hair at his pelvis tickling your skin.

“Say it,” he murmurs, rolls his hips against yours until his cock is brushing along as much of your walls as possible. “Say you miss me, pretty girl,” he says, and you’re too caught up in the pleasure and the memories to hear the plea in his tone. “C’mon, tell me you miss me and I’ll let you come, okay?”

Overwhelmed with ecstasy, you nod along, let him muffle your cries with his tongue. “Miss you,” you sob, carve your nails down his back as he begins a ferocious pace inside of you. “Miss you so much.”