SUMMARY: Your boyfriend can only sit there and watch you play for so long before he starts distracting you on purpose.
WC: 2.2k words
DISCLAIMERS: smut!!! [ minors / ageless blogs dni!!! ] usage of marijuana, dry humping, fingering (f receiving), jongseob gamer chud. cockwarming!!!! lazy unprotected sex (WRAP IT.) sex while on a call…. + menace shota highkey. & this was for my baddie @xionvlog MWAH!!! ur wish is my command :3
Your headset settled against your ears, warm and weighted. Jongseob's voice crackled through with tactical callouts and mindless chatter — but it's already becoming background noise to the buzzing of your PC and the steady pace of your own pulse.
You're perched in your gaming chair, but not quite sitting in it. The sleek black leather, usually cool against your thighs, is hidden beneath him.
Shota had slipped into your room earlier without announcement, moving with that particular quiet he has — it always made you wonder how long he'd been standing in the doorway before anything else.
A joint was already burning between his fingers, the tip glowing ember-orange in the dim light. He'd taken a long, slow drag, held it deep in his lungs, then pulled you down onto his lap without a word, just his hands on your hips and the firm press of his thighs beneath you as he settled you into place – and every time, it always felt like you were molded perfectly for him.
Now you're caught between two sources of heat: the pale blue glow of your monitor washing over your face, and the solid warmth of his body at your back. Your hands rested on your keyboard, fingers moving through muscle memory while you navigate whatever map, but your focus is fracturing with every passing second.
"Sniper on the roof — cover me," Jongseob warns, his voice small and tinny through your headset.
You manage a grunt of acknowledgment, something noncommittal that could pass for agreement.
Behind you, Shota shifts. The joint hanging loosely from his lips now, and you feel the expansion of his chest against your spine as he inhales, then the slow deflation as he exhales.
Smoke curls past your cheek, earthy and sweet, mixing with the faint musk of his skin and the clean cotton smell of his clothes. He's wearing a loose black t-shirt and gray sweatpants — soft and worn, the fabric grasping just enough to betray the shape of his thighs and the lines of his body beneath you.
You're supposed to be focusing… and well, you're trying… but unfortunately you were losing a PvP on-screen because you were too aware of the way his fingers had started to drift.
His hand slid from the armrest to your waist, resting there with a touch so light it could pass as accidental.. innocent, even. But then Shota’s palm flattens before his thumbs hook beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed the bare skin of your stomach in a slow, deliberate stroke that made your breath catch in your throat.
Your character stumbles on-screen, taking damage you could have easily dodged – something easily avoidable. "You good?" Jongseob asks, confusion laced in his tone. You'd never screw something like that up.
"Yeah. Just lag." You whisper, the lie tissue-thin. You clear your throat, but the sound still comes out small and unsteady.
Shota exhales another plume of smoke, angling his head so the joint doesn't burn you. His free hand slides lower, tracing the curve of your side with maddening slowness, settling over your hip with a grip that's no longer casual. Then he pulls — one firm, decisive motion that drags you back against him, grinding your ass directly onto his lap.
You felt the heat trapped beneath the soft cotton of his sweatpants and his cock immediately, already half-hard, pressing insistently against the cleft of your shorts. The realization sends a jolt straight through your core.
Your fingers tighten on your mouse, your other hand curling into a fist against the keyboard. You can hear Jongseob calling out enemy positions, but the words blur into meaningless noise.
All you can focus on is the deliberate roll of your boyfriend’s hips beneath you — his movement completely controlled as it drags your core against his clothed length, creating friction that makes you let out soft breath you didn't even know you were holding.
He takes another hit, holding the smoke in his lungs this time. The tip glows brighter, casting brief shadows across the dark room. He taps ash into the tray on your desk with practiced ease, then sets it down in the groove, now freeing both hands.
The shift in the air is immediate.
One hand slides up your ribcage, slipping beneath your shirt to sprawl against your skin. His touch is warm, and the contrast between the cool air and him alone makes you shiver. His other hand cups you through your shorts, completely straight forward, pressing against your mound and feeling the shape of you through the thin fabric.
You gasp before you can stop yourself, biting down hard on your lip to silence the sound. Your thighs clench involuntarily whilst he squeezes them in response, his fingers digging into the soft flesh with just enough pressure to make you ache.
Without another word, he starts moving you. Not so rough that it would jostle the chair or make the wheels creak, but it was a steady. His cock thickens beneath you, now growing fully hard as the stiff ridge pushed insistently against your ass, demanding friction you can't give him.
Not yet, at least.
You continue to move your own hips absentmindedly now, rolling back against him and chasing more pressure. Your head tips back, coming to rest slightly on his shoulder. You breath through your mouth, quiet and shaky and barely controlled. The game on your screen becomes a blur of colors and movement, meaningless shapes you can no longer parse.
Jongseob mentions a flanking route. You don't respond. You can't — which throws the entire round — but you don't care at this point. You're too focused on the way Shota's fingers are now rubbing slow, maddening circles over your clothed clit, and the way his other hand has found your breast, thumbing your nipple through the thin fabric of your bra until it peaks beneath his touch.
"Hey — you still with me?" Jongseob's voice cuts through the haze, suddenly sharp with concern. "You keep getting picked off. What's going on?"
"I'm—" You start, but Shota chooses that exact moment to press his palm harder against your core, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from gasping. "I'm — sorry. Yeah. I'm starting to have a headache. I might just do one…? more round?"
"Lameee," Jongseob groans, but there's amusement in his voice now. "Whatever. Maybe I'll just ask Shota to play when you're done."
"Y-yeah." You manage, still rocking against Shota's hand. "That's... that's fine. Totally fine."
The next round is still loading up, and Shota's chest vibrates against your back — a silent laugh. His fingers don't stop moving. He's still quiet as your next round loads. He hasn't made a single sound except for the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional exhale of smoke.
Somehow, that silence is the most arousing thing about this — the control it takes and the intentionality. He's orchestrating this with perfect precision, playing your body like an instrument he knows intimately.
You need to move. Stand up. Break the tension before you lose control entirely and moan into the mic for Jongseob to hear. But you can't. You're pinned by his grip and the heat pooling low in your belly, liquid and insistent.
But still, you try. You push off his thighs abruptly, your legs trembling as you rise. You turn, half-expecting annoyance on your boyfriend's face from irritation at the interruption.
But he just watches you.
His eyes are hooded, dark with want. His lips are parted, swollen from where he's been biting them to stay quiet. A slow grin spreads across his face as he takes in the sight of you — flustered, breathless, and visibly affected – then his gaze drops lower, causing you to follow it.
He's still leaning back in your chair, legs spread wide, utterly relaxed. But the light gray of his sweatpants has darkened with a wet stain — a long, narrow patch of moisture right where his cock is still visibly tented beneath the fabric. The evidence of his arousal and how much he wants you is unmistakable.
All that. Just from grinding you against him. Just from feeling you.
Your mouth goes dry. Your pulse hammers in your throat, in your wrists, and between your legs. The sight of him like this .. composed on the surface but marked by desire, makes something inside you tense with need.
He reaches out, fingers wrapping around your wrist with gentle firmness, and pulls you back down. You don't fight it, plus you probably couldn't if you wanted to.
You allow him to guide you onto his lap once more, but this time his hands were already moving — pushing at your shorts and hooking his fingers into the fabric before swiping it aside with quick, practiced movements along with your messy panties.
Your round with Jongseob finally starts, and you try, genuinely try, to focus on the screen, but it's impossible. Your head isn't even remotely in the game, especially not with the way your boyfriend's cock is now pressing against your folds, hot and hard and slick with precum. The round ends in a loss before you've even processed the opening strategy.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Jongseob's voice erupts through the headset, half-amused, half genuinely exasperated.
You mute yourself quickly, your hand shaking as you press the button. You can feel Shota's cock throbbing against you, the head nudging at your entrance, and it takes everything in you not to just sink down onto him right then and there.
You can hear Jongseob typing in the background — probably messaging someone else and complaining about his “useless” teammate. A moment later, his voice returns, casual now. "Bro, lock in.”
"I'm sorry!" You manage to say after quickly unmuting, your voice strained from the effort of staying quiet. "Just–ngh– struggling tonight." You choke your words out, hoping your friend didn't catch on.
He didn't. "Yeah, okay." Jongseob sighs, and you can practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Can we try one more time?"
"Yeah–Mhm! “Course.” You quip quickly, your words coming out too bright and sharp. You slap a hand over your mouth as you mute again, loading another round.
Shota continued not to make a sound. Instead, he just ran his fingers over your now-exposed cunt, feeling the slickness there and the evidence of how much you want this. His touch is exploratory as he traces your folds and circles your clit.
He wraps his other arm around your waist, lifting you slightly before he guides himself to your entrance, pressing slowly, the head of him now pushing past your folds and sinking into you, inch by agonizing inch.
You clutch the mouse like it's a lifeline, your other hand digging into the armrest hard enough to hurt. On-screen, you're somehow managing to win a one-on-one battle, your muscle memory carrying you through despite the way your vision is blurring at the edges. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out — just a ragged, desperate exhale.
He bottoms out, his balls pressing flush against your skin, and the fullness is overwhelming. And then he stops completely.
You're fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, stretching you in a way that borders on too much. And he doesn't move or thrust.. he just stays, letting the heat of your cunt clench around him in involuntary pulses, letting you feel every inch of him.
His arms wrap around you as his chin drops to your shoulder, nuzzling into the curve of your neck and breathing you in. The intimacy of it, the stillness and connection makes your chest tighten with something than just arousal.
And god did he love it.
Softly, he presses a wet kiss to your neck. Then another, mouthing at the sensitive skin behind your ear. He sucks lightly, pulling a thin bruise to the surface – a silent claim that says mine.
Your hips twitch, instinct demanding movement, or any type of friction. His hands tighten on your waist, holding you still as he shakes his head once against your shoulder, his hair tickling your skin.
Shota's lips travel down your neck, marking a slow, deliberate path over your pulse point. His tongue darts out, tasting salt and sweat and the faint trace of your perfume. His breathing is steady, but you can still feel him throb inside you. He's holding back.. But barely.
Then, finally, his hips lift.
It's delicate as he shifts his cock inside you, dragging against your walls to the point it makes your vision blur and your toes curl. He fucks you lazily like he has all the time in the world. Each movement is deliberate, shallow, and hitting a spot deep inside that makes your eyes roll back and your breath catch.
You press your hand over your mouth to stifle the whimper threatening to escape. Your other hand grips the desk, as you try desperately to keep your body still and to not give away what's happening.
He fucks you like that for long, torturous minutes, causing you to struggle in your game — hiding out a majority of it. Jongseob is long gone in your headset, likely irritated with how quiet you are… little does he know.
Shota’s pace never increases. The stillness is broken only by gentle rolls of his hips and the way he pulls almost all the way out before sinking back in with agonizing slowness. He makes no sound — no grunts, sighs or any indication of effort.
Your cunt clenches around him, a telltale flutter that signals you're close. He knows it since he knows your body too well. He slows down even more, almost stopping entirely, drawing out the tension until you think you might break apart.
He picks up again — just the tiniest bit faster, – and your hand tightens over your mouth as you come in silence, your character on screen frozen in place since you could no longer focus.
He stays inside you throughout, letting you ride it out, his own cock still hard and buried. He waits until your breathing steadies, until the aftershocks fade into gentle tremors, then presses one last kiss to your neck before he slowly pulls out.
He pulls his sweatpants back up, adjusting himself with a quiet hiss, then leans back in the chair and picks up the joint. He lights it again, the flame briefly illuminating his face, and takes a long, satisfied drag.
You stand on shaking legs, pulling your shorts back into place with clumsy fingers, and sink back down into his lap. This time, there's no urgency but just the comfortable weight of his arm around you and the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back.
For a moment, neither of you moves. The room settles back into its familiar quiet, the distant sound of Jongseob's voice still chattering through your headset that you tossed on the desk moments ago, oblivious to what just happened.
You glanced at your monitor ro realize the round had ended in another loss.. Oops.. Your headset then crackles. "Okay, that was useless. I'm just gonna play solos if you're done," Jongseob speaks. "Shota isn't answering me."
You reach for the headset, pulling it back over your ears. Your voice comes out steadier than you expect. "Oh yeah— uh, he's over at mine right now.” You speak. “He might just play off my setup."
Shota's lips brush your temple — so soft you almost miss it. He leans forward slightly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he speaks into your mic, his voice calm and easy like he hadn't just fucked you into oblivion three minutes ago.
"Yeah, I'm down. Give me a sec."
You shift in his lap, and he tightens his arm around your waist. “Stay.” He mumbles. And you were definitely not going anywhere after that.
He reaches up to grab your headset, slipping it off your head and onto his own with one hand while the other stays firmly planted on your hip.
"You good?" He murmurs. His thumb strokes small circles on your hip, a soothing gesture. You nod, leaning back into him, letting his warmth seep into your bones. "Yeah."
And you are. Because you're exactly where you want to be.
💌 mika’s message! ok guys so. sorry am i a pervert freak lmk. i can’t do this anymore i gotta take a break hhejzhxxbahbxbzhhaahH ok bye
I gotta interrupt my usual worldbuilding clown posting with some gaming clown posting for a moment because I just played this whimsically splendid game called Poco where you play as a lil clown who got kicked out of this surreal circus and now has to explore the below world habitated by weird lil homunculi all while you solve puzzles in the good ol' point and click adventure style.
Now, other than the fact that this game already has some elements that I personally love (clowns, weird surreal stuff, whimsical point and click puzzles), the ART in this game is GORGEOUS! I had to take some screenshots:
Summary: When Keeho recognizes you from your viral new drama at an event, he can't help but gravitate towards you.
Pairing: Keeho x actress!reader
Genre: fluff, slightly suggestive
Warnings: Reader is thick af in this one, sexual tension but nothing explicit happens at all
Word count: 3k
Authors note: I. LOVE. WRITING. TENSION. AHHH omg guys I looooved writing this and im sure tumblr is gonna block it so pls reblog if you enjoyed to get it out there 🥹also idk why theo has beef with keeho in this but i thought it was funny. Also i lowkey forgot about famous oops need to get back to that eventually. If you remember me saying i thought of a good idea this was it🤏🏽🤏🏽
The venue they entered was nothing short of fancy. Crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, marble floors polished so perfectly they reflected like mirrors, and the sea of star studded guests that filled the room was proof enough.
The logos of the event hosts and sponsors glowed on towering digital displays. Velvet curtains framed the entrance to the main hall, where a string quartet played modern songs disguised in classical elegance. Strategically placed spotlights kissed the edges of everyone’s outfits, making every jewel, silk lapel, and embroidered gown shimmer.
Keeho and his members traversed deeper into the room, the boys dressed in sharp tailored suits that made them feel slightly out of place from their usual street style.
They had barely been in the room for 10 minutes and were already being whisked into conversations with their peers, many of them offering praises and compliments on their new comeback.
The next hour passed in a similar fashion, and Keeho was already starting to feel his social battery drain, especially so because he was the leader snd had done the most talking thus far. He stood idly by his members as they conversed, choosing instead to gaze out at the crowd of celebrities he never imagined he'd be attending events with, a testament to P1harmony's hard work and success.
He was caught in a daydream as his eyes continued to flick around, head spinning slightly. What time did I last eat? He couldn't remember.
Then his eyes landed on you.
The first thing that entered his mind was a scene of you from your latest drama.
Your half lidded eyes, the tension between your character and the male leads, the way your body moved onto his and—
He hated how vivid the scene played in his head, likely due to how many times he had replayed it. But in his defense, who hadn't? It had gone viral after all due to the intensity and chemistry displayed.
Keeho swallowed hard.
He hadn’t expected to see you here. He definitely hadn’t expected the instant recognition and he had to force his eyes away from you and away from the black dress that hugged your body so perfectly it must have been custom.
He tries to rejoin the conversation being had in front of him, but his eyes couldn't help but drift back to you every few moments.
You were surrounded by people, no doubt due to your surge of popularity. You were laughing at something one of them said, and he couldn't believe how gorgeous you were.
Way too gorgeous to look at directly for more than two seconds without feeling his ears heat up.
He forced his eyes away and pretended to adjust his sleeve, but it was pointless. Within seconds, they drifted back to you.
“Keeho.”
Nothing.
“Keeho.” A little louder.
Still nothing.
Theo sighed, then nudged him with his elbow. “Helloooo.”
Keeho blinked, startled, tearing his gaze away from you as if waking from a trance. He looked at Theo, eyes unfocused. “What?”
Theo stared at him for a long second before breaking into a laugh. “What are you so distracted—” He turned his head, following the exact line of Keeho’s stare. And the moment his eyes landed on you, he snorted knowingly.
“You should go talk to her.”
“I might." Keeho said without hesitation.
Theo froze. “Huh? I was joking.”
“Why not?” Keeho murmured.
Theo stared at him like he’d just said the most diabolic thing ever. “Respectfully… you cannot handle all that.”
Keeho’s whole face twisted in offense. “What do you mean I can’t handle—”
“Just—look at her." Theo said, gesturing subtly.
He took the chance to linger a little longer on you this time.
First your hair, styled elegantly and glossy under the light. Then the graceful curve of your spine as you leaned in to respond to someone. Then, unfortunately for his sanity, lower where your gown hugged your hips and thighs so perfectly it was maddening.
The fabric strained just enough to hint at the thickness beneath it, and Keeho’s breath hitched before he snapped his gaze away as fast as humanly possible.
His cheeks were burning hot.
When he looked back at Theo, the man already had one eyebrow raised in accusation, lips pressed together like, I told you so.
Keeho glared. “Shut up.”
Theo chuckled, clapping him gently on the shoulder. “Nah, I’m praying for you actually.”
But Keeho barely heard him because his eyes were already drifting back to you again.
"Well, I'm not one to back away from intimidation." He muttered more to himself than anyone.
Theo let out a low whistle. “Okay, but you’ve been warned.” With one last amused shake of his head, he turned back to the rest of the boys, slipping effortlessly into their conversation.
Keeho didn’t follow.
He was too busy plotting different ways to approach you.
His thoughts crashed to a stop when he glanced toward you again.
Because this time, your eyes were already on him.
He froze.
Completely caught off guard, every muscle in his body locked up. His first instinct was to look away instantly, pretend he’d been staring at something else.
But somehow, through sheer willpower (and maybe panic), he forced himself to hold eye contact, taking advantage of the predicament.
Your gaze stayed on him for a moment, a little curious, a little amused. Then, slowly, you smiled.
Just a small one. Barely there. But enough to send Keeho’s heart racing.
Before he could even process it, you looked away, turning back to the conversation as if nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, Keeho stood there, pulse pounding in his ears, trying not to visibly malfunction.
Theo glanced over his shoulder at the exact moment Keeho grabbed the nearest glass of champagne, chugging half of it quickly.
“Such an idiot.” Theo muttered under his breath.
And Keeho—face hot, hands shaky, mind spinning —could only think of one thing: you.
Gathering every scrap of courage he had, he inhaled, straightened his jacket, and took a step toward you.
Until a tall man in a dark suit suddenly approached you, murmured something in your ear, and gently steered you away from the crowd.
Probably your manager. Probably something important. Probably the universe laughing in his face.
Keeho stopped mid-stride.
His shoulders dropped. His breath left him in a long, defeated sigh.
“…Okay. Not meant to be." he muttered to himself, pretending he didn’t feel the disappointment twisting in his stomach.
He lingered with the boys for a bit longer, nodding here and there, but not really listening. His heart just wasn’t there anymore.
Eventually, he cleared his throat. “I’m gonna… grab another drink.”
He slipped away after the chorus of nods and headed back to the bar. The bartender was still mixing something complicated for another guest, so Keeho leaned against the counter, passing the time.
He turned his head to people watch some more but when he did, You were lowering yourself onto the stool right next to him. You looked at him immediately, eyes glowing, lips curled in a smile that made his pulse jump straight to his throat.
“Hi.” you said, voice smooth, and confident.
He blinked, stunned.
Before he could muster a response, you extended your hand gracefully and introduced yourself.
For a second, Keeho just stared at your hand, brain absolutely blank. Then he slid his palm into yours. Warm and soft.
“Keeho.” he breathed.
You laughed lightly. “I know,”
His heart tripped over itself.
Then you added, “I love your music.”
He almost choked on air.
“Oh wow, you listen to my music?”
Your laughter bubbled out, bright and genuine, making his ears redden even more. “Your new comeback was very impressive.” you said, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret between you and him alone.
The movement brought you just a bit closer, close enough for him to catch the soft, warm scent of your perfume. Vanilla, sweet and creamy with a hint of something woodsy. He found it very, very hard to think straight.
He exhaled slowly. “…I’m incredibly flattered. Really. It means a lot coming from you.”
You tilted your head, eyes softening at his sincerity.
“You're… an amazing actress,” he continued, voice gentler now. “Your newest drama was incredible.”
You smiled knowingly. “So is that why you kept staring at me?”
Keeho froze.
He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a mortified, “Oh—um—”
You giggled at his reaction, brushing your fingers lightly over the edge of the counter between you. “Sorry. I can be a bit forward,” you admitted. “Gets me into a lot of trouble.”
Keeho swallowed, fighting the urge to look away. He leaned in just enough for only you to hear, “What kind of trouble?”
Your breath hitched almost imperceptibly.
You met his eyes head-on, gaze simmering. It dropped briefly and unmistakably to his plush lips before you smirked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
The corner of his mouth tugged up into a half-smile he couldn’t have stopped even if he tried. Something about the way you looked at him like you were so unbothered and so openly interested made confidence bloom in his chest.
He let out a quiet, warm chuckle. “Well… guilty as charged,” he said, answering your earlier question. “But you must’ve been staring too to notice.”
Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, clearly impressed by his sudden boldness.
“Guilty as charged." you echoed, voice dipping playfully.
You stared at each other for a long, heated moment, the silence thick with tension, until Keeho broke it with a soft laugh, turning his head slightly to breathe normally again.
You chuckled too, tapping your nails lightly against the bar. The smile lingered on both your mouths, as if neither of you wanted to let that tension disappear completely.
Then you tilted your head a little. “…Would you like to go on a walk?”
Keeho didn’t even hesitate. “Of course,” he said, standing up almost too quickly. “Lead the way.”
You slid off the stool gracefully, smoothing your gown, and began walking toward the edge of the ballroom.
Keeho followed but not before his eyes instinctively drifted toward the group.
And they were all staring.
Theo was whispering frantically to the others, gesturing wildly like he was narrating Keeho’s downfall in real time.
Keeho rolled his eyes and shook his head firmly at them, mouthing: Stop.
Theo gave him a dramatic thumbs-up.
He hurried to follow after you.
You walked a little ahead of him, heels clicking softly against the marble. Once again, his eyes dipped down, catching the hypnotic sway of your hips, your gown displaying your butt perfectly.
He swallowed hard, immediately forcing his gaze back up.
Focus.
You led him out of the main hall and into a quieter, dimly lit corridor lined with tall windows and ornate gold molding. At the end was a set of double doors, cracked open just enough to let in the breeze.
You pushed past them with a light touch, revealing a back seating area with an elegant terrace, cushioned benches, soft garden lighting, and the faint hum of the city beyond.
You inhaled deeply, letting the cool air wash over you.
“It must’ve been exhausting for you in there.” Keeho said, stepping beside you.
You groaned dramatically, rubbing your forehead. “You have no idea. I’m sure you can relate.”
He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing for the first time all night. “Oh, definitely. I was checked out after an hour.”
You huffed a laugh, and led him to a bench tucked into a corner of the garden.
It was small, too small honestly, and when you both sat, your sides brushed together.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The garden was quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves and the thrum of your own heartbeat in your ears.
Finally, you broke the silence. “So… you got back from tour recently, right?”
He nodded, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Yeah. We’ve only been home for a week.”
“Wow.” You exhaled. “Can’t even catch a break.”
He laughed under his breath, the sound low and genuine. “It is what it is. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
You smiled at that. “Well, I know you don’t need to hear this from me,” you said softly, “but… I went to your Seoul show. It was incredible.”
His head whipped toward you. “Wait—really??”
You nodded with a small grin. “I told you I love your music.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, ears turning a little pink. “Honestly, I thought you were just saying that.”
You gasped dramatically, hand to your chest. “Wow. I didn’t think you’d take me for a liar.”
“Well, you are an actress,” he teased, eyes dancing between yours.
You paused, then laughed. “…Okay, true.”
You turn to throw the question back at him, your knees bumping into his. Neither of you pulled away.
“So then,” you said, tilting your head at him, “was you saying you loved my drama just a formality?”
His answer came fast. “No. No, not at all.” His voice lowered, sincerity replacing the playful tone. “You’re… you’re genuinely amazing. The way you capture emotions so raw and honestly? It’s incredible. You’re captivating to watch.”
Your breath caught, heat blooming across your cheeks. You opened your mouth to respond but a sudden gust of cold wind slipped through the garden, brushing over your skin and making you shiver.
Before you could even register the movement, Keeho was already shifting. He shrugged off his jacket and gently draped it over your shoulders, his hands tugging the fabric to make sure it was securely covering your skin.
You didn’t oppose it. Not even a little.
When he finally looked up, his eyes met yours and he stilled.
He was still holding the sides of the jacket and he was close enough that you could see the way his breath subtly caught in his throat. You didn’t look away. If anything, he held your gaze even harder, challenging you. “Sorry… am I too close?”
You shook your head, voice soft but sure. “No. You’re fine.”
He let go of the jacket, but he didn’t move back. Not an inch.
A compliment slipped out of you before you could stop it. “Your eyes are really pretty.”
He just stared then his mind went somewhere else entirely.
Oh Theo, if you could see me now…
His lips twitched upward before he bit down on his bottom one, turning away to hide his smile.
You mirrored his grin, leaning into him until your shoulders brushed again. “What?” you asked, eyes narrowing playfully.
He glanced back, doing a terrible job at acting casual. “Hm?”
“That look,” you insisted. “What was that?”
“It’s nothing.” He shrugged, poorly.
“Oh really?” you tilted your head. “Then why are you blushing?”
He huffed a breathy laugh, looking down at his lap before glancing up at you again. “It’s just what happens when a pretty girl flirt with me.”
“Who said I’m flirting?”
“Are you?”
Instead of answering, you let your gaze drop to his lips, slowly and deliberately, and you licked your own. Keeho’s eyes watched, dark and dazed, pupils blown wide.
The back-and-forth was intoxicating.
“Well,” you murmured, inching closer, “I’m just taking initiative. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me inside…”
Your hand lifted, fingers brushing down the front of his tie until you reached the bottom of it. You toyed with it lazily, tugging it just enough to make his breath hitch.
“You know,” you said, voice low, “I was waiting for you to come talk to me.”
He swallowed, his throat suddenly thick. “I was going to… but then you were pulled away, and—”
As he spoke, your hand drifted from his tie, down, down—until it settled on his thigh.
He went silent immediately.
“Well,” you smiled softly, “good thing we’re here now. Hmm?”
He nodded, dazed and dizzy, and you couldn’t help the dreamy little laugh that slipped out of you. He laughed too, breathless and warm.
Your phone buzzed in your purse and you sighed lightly, grabbed it and answered it without breaking eye contact with him. You hummed a few quiet “yes's" and when you hung up, you frowned apologetically.
“My manager is looking for me. Unfortunately… we have to part ways. For now?"
You both rose to your feet. You slipped his jacket off your shoulders, and he stepped closer to take it back.
“Does that mean,” he asked, voice low, “I get to see you again?”
You held the jacket in your hand, meeting his gaze with raised brows. “Unless you wouldn’t like that.”
You passed it to him and he slung it over his shoulder with one hand, the other tucking into his pocket. “Oh, I’d very much like that.”
Your smile widened slightly. You stepped toward him, close enough that your chest brushed his lightly. One hand landed on his shoulder for balance and you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.
Keeho froze.
Your lips were soft, warm, and they lingered just long enough to make him go crazy. His breath stuttered, his hands flexing slightly like he wasn’t sure whether to pull you in or grab onto something to steady himself.
When you pulled back, you tried not to grin at the faint, perfect lipstick mark stamped on his cheek.
“It was nice to meet you, Keeho." you whispered.
Then without giving him a chance to recover, you turned around and strutted back into the building, head raised high.
Keeho didn’t move.
He was too hot and too stunned to even put his jacket back on. Instead, he sat down on the bench, gripping the fabric in his hands as a huge, helpless grin stretched across his face.
It took a few minutes for his heartbeat to return to normal. Eventually, the night air cooled his skin enough for him to slide his jacket back on. He checked his reflection in the camera of his phone, mostly to make sure he didn’t look as blissed-out as he felt, and the moment he saw the red kiss mark on his cheek, he froze.
“…Oh, hell.” He brushed at it until all that was left was a faint red smudge
And after a second, he grinned. Big. Stupid. Proud and a little smug.
Head high, chest light, he headed back inside, practically floating as he imagined the look on Theo’s face when he told him exactly what happened and that yes, he definitely could handle all that.
Tags: Smut MDNI, established relationship, sleepy fluff, cut to black before sex
Word count: 1.1k
Usually, you'd pick Zayne up from the airport after a business trip, bright and early with a car full of treats. Tonight, though, his flights were delayed. He’d originally planned on staying in a hotel; but when a late flight opened up, he couldn't resist. After hours of sitting cramped on the plane, he was finally sitting cramped in a taxi on the way home to you.
The moon hung high in the night air as he lofted his luggage out of the trunk, tipping the driver before starting up the path to the door. All was silent save for the gentle buzz of insects and the jingling of keys entering the lock. A weight seemed to lift off his shoulders the moment he stepped inside, shielded from the world in your shared home.
He took his time padding through the halls. It had only been two weeks since he left, but it felt like ages. Any time away from you these days left a dull ache. It was almost incredulous to think of his life before moving in with you; your presence left a constant warmth where there had only been cold before.
He creaked the bedroom door open painstakingly slow, careful not to wake you. Your gentle snores rose from the bed like a lullaby, and he was already halfway there, loosening his shirt. He kicked off his shoes as he carefully tucked back the blanket to press a kiss to your forehead. Soft and quick, just enough to confirm your warmth, confirm he was home.
He pulled just far enough away to view your peaceful expression, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. The pull was almost irresistible to get right into bed with you, but he needed a shower more. He took one last look at your blissful face before retreating to the bathroom.
The steaming water soothed his body as it cascaded down his form. It should be perfectly relaxing, and he tried to focus on relaxing, but the mere scent of your shampoo made his cock insistently throb. His eyes squeezed shut as the steam swirled around him, his mind fogged with visions of you.
Even washing himself made his mind wander, using the shared body wash that the two of you often lathered into each other with roaming hands. His own hands languidly explored his body, yearning for your soft touch. He felt almost shamefully heated, bucking his hips against the water and trailing fingers down his abs.
Water fell over his hair and eyes as he leaned over, one hand stablizing himself against the wall while the other palmed his length. He tried to shake off the feeling, but even through his tired haze he grew warm with proximity to you. The thought of you sleeping just a few feet away while he indulged in your mere memory made him bite back a groan.
With a few more strokes, he finally took a deep breath, remembering the water would soon run cold. He tried to put his mind on anything else: patient charts, equipment inventory, even whether or not he’d properly folded his luggage, but the drifting scent of you still turned him pink.
It was deep into the night by the time he got out of the shower, still flushed as he towelled off. Even now in soft pajamas, his cock protruded hard against the fabric, but the bed called out to him like a siren song. He shifted the blanket carefully to settle in next to you, wrapping the two of you in your own little world.
He gently wrapped an arm around you to pull you close, nestling into your hair to breathe in your scent. Holding you was a sensation like no other, leaving him melting into the mattress. You instinctively curled into him, even in sleep, and he couldn't help but cuddle you impossibly closer.
Your softness against him was nearly too much to handle, his hands trailed from the edge of the borrowed oversized shirt to your bare skin; so warm it almost melted him. He splayed his hands out across either side of your waist, simply reaccompanying himself with the feeling of your touch. He let out a sigh he hadn't quite realized he was holding, finally relaxing in a way he hadn't been able to for weeks.
So relaxed in fact, that he didn't notice you beginning to stir from his hands roaming your sides. “Zayne?” you sleepily murmured, blinking up at him as you just barely awoke. He instantly cooed at the sound, gently brushing hair out of your face.
“I didn't mean to wake you, my love,” he apologetically whispered, cupping your cheek in his hand. As you blinked away the sleep, your eyes lit up at the sight of him. Nothing made him happier than the warmth that bloomed in your eyes the moment you saw him.
“I thought you wouldn't be back until tomorrow,” you giggle, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips which he instantly melts into. The words die on his tongue as he blissfully meshes his mouth with yours, capturing your lips to savour your taste. His eyes are half-lidded as he breathlessly pulls away, having almost forgotten anything except for being in this bed.
“I suppose I just couldn't wait,” he smirks against your lips, chasing another reverent kiss. Calling it that almost seems inadequate, Zayne devours like you're his last meal, like in the next moment he’ll be ripped away from ever tasting you again. Your tiredness is soon washed away by need as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.
“I missed you,” he murmurs between kisses, hands moving from your sides to up your back, any bit of skin he can reach. You mumble agreements through teeth and tongue, rolling over to straddle him. You moan contentedly into his mouth as you feel his hardness straining against you, and he lets out an untamed groan at the realization that you're only clad in his shirt and panties.
In late hours like this, there's no need for words, only movement. His hands clasp onto your hips, guiding every motion over his lap while you lay sloppy kisses along his jaw. Your moans are shaky and high-pitched as each rock of your hips drags your core along another vein on his cock.
He controls your hips like a toy, just the way you like. The room fills with moans from both of you as he grinds up against you, rutting your slit against his bulge and creating a wet spot where you meet. When the ridge of his tip bumps your clit, a shiver runs through your body with a pleasured whine.
“I know, darling,” he murmurs, biting his lip as he bounces you on that spot. He drags his tongue along your neck as you lean into him, peppering goosebumps on faded hickies before hungrily sucking new ones over top.
Summary: After a long day on tour, Keeho calls you to unwind. Luckily, you have a surprise for him.
tags: smut mdni, established relationship, yearning, lingerie, phone sex
Word count: 1.3k
The hotel room is silent, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning, as Keeho flops onto the bed, body sore from hours of practice. Every inch of him screams to go to bed, but as his phone charges, your messages from the last few hours flow in.
He smiles to himself as he reads your various quips about your day, periodically putting reaction emojis. Near the evening, you excitedly remarked about a package arriving. The next swipe, however, reveals a sight that makes him double-take.
The message is a simple “Sleep well” effortlessly teasing in comparison to the photo that accompanied it. You posed in the steamy mirror, clad in the lingerie the two of you ordered weeks earlier. a pink chemise, adorned with lace on its edges. a cheeky smile tugs at your lips as you sit facing just away from the camera, perched on the counter like a present waiting to be unwrapped.
More than a few minutes pass of Keeho staring at the picture, committing every detail to memory. The way the fabric clings to your hips, already riding over them. The plush of your thighs, concealing the promise of matching panties. Suddenly the thought of sleep is miles away compared to the urge to feel your touch.
The tour had barely started and he was already needy from not being with you. Each day away ached in his heart (and balls.) His thumb hovers over the call button, eyes darting between it and the picture. As he mulls over whether or not you’d be asleep, another picture chimes in; the back view. The silky fabric is just transparent enough to see the curve of your ass, settling just under it and leaving your thighs exposed.
“You’re such a tease,” he grumbles with no real malice as soon as you answer the call. You giggle at his words, setting the phone on your desk as you brush your hair. The warm lamplight casts you in yellow, still damp and flushed from the shower.
“I just wanted to show you my outfit,” you innocently state, lashes fluttering. As you toss a section of hair off your shoulder, the strap of the dress ‘accidentally’ begins to slide down. Keeho smirks as he stares at you, hand inching down his torso.
“Let me get a better look at it then, baby,” he murmurs, voice low. You scoot out your chair slightly, smoothing out the chemise across your lap. Your fingers slowly trail along the lace framing the edges, toying with the concept of lifting it up.
“Do you wanna see my favourite part?” you languidly question, neckline drooping as you lean forward. Keeho bites back a whimper as he nods, lip caught between his teeth. He already knew it would be his favourite too, because he picked it out.
You gingerly lift the edge, thighs plush against the chair as they spread. Between them, pink lace pulls tight against your dampening core. The light catches on the charm dangling just above, a diamond ‘K’. You teasingly circle your hips and the charm moves like a pendulum.
“Fuck,” he grunts, palming his bulge. “You look so pretty.” The thought of you wearing his initial in a place only he was allowed to see made his head swim. His hips involuntarily jerk off the bed as he imagines you doing those same crooning movements on top of him. Yet, pressing down with his hand is nothing compared to the delicious weight of your body on his. “God, I wish you were here,” his eyes roll back as he thinks about your previous nights together.
Your face reddens at his compliments, movements faltering for a moment before he interrupts, voice husky. “Keep going, baby.” You keep the dress held up in either hand, the leftover fabric framing your thighs as it falls behind you. Your hips slowly rock and the charm drags right against your clit, each movement thrilling.
Keeho watches with hungry eyes as you practically ride the chair, hand finally reaching into his boxers to cure his own ache. His cock springs up against his stomach as he pulls it out, tip already flushed and leaking. “See what you do to me?” he murmurs, fingers wrapping around his thick shaft.
You loosely nod, core aching with every swipe of your hips across the cushion. A growing wetness careens from under the lace to trailing your thighs, sending a shiver of cold as the air brushes past. When the friction hits just right, a breathless whine escapes your lips.
The sound of your neediness goes straight to his cock, pace increasing as he watches. The dripping pre-cum makes each stroke easier than the last, and his grip tightens impossibly, hoping to recreate the feeling he craves.
You can’t help but follow suit in his fervour, a wet spot now growing on the chair from your arousal. Your spine arches as you lean back, holding yourself up on the arms of the chair while grinding further into the seat.
“Play with that pussy for me,” he grunts out, breaths ragged as he pumps his cock into his fist. Your fingers tremble as you drop the dress, silk swimming around your raised hips. You reach for the waistband of the panties, but Keeho interrupts with a low growl, “Keep them on.” You brush away the shining charm to access what lies underneath, his eyes hungrily trailing the motion like a hawk toying with a mouse.
The moment your fingertips touch your sensitive bud, electricity floods your body. “That’s it, just like that,” he pants, gaze glued to your movements as your fingers frantically work your clit. Even as you sit across the world from each other, both of your rooms fill with the obscenely wet noises of your desire.
His grip on the phone nearly drops, trembling with taut tension as his length throbs with every thrust. Yet, even through the motion, you can spot his fucked-out expression. Strands of hair fall over his half-lidded eyes, face utterly flushed and clenched in pleasure.
The contrast between the rough lace fabric and your gushing cunt makes you see stars, lips parting in an open moan. Your rhythm turns sporadic as the heat coils in your stomach, and he cracks a knowing grin at the motion. “I know you're close baby, fuck, me too,” he mutters breathlessly, practically hunched over his phone as he pumps into his tightly clasped fist.
The sound of his voice alone makes you come undone. Before he even demands you to cum, it crashes over you in a wave, your body falling slump in the chair. Keeho whimpers watching the display, his own climax not far behind. The sight of you squirming through your orgasm was almost too much to bear when all he could think about was giving you one even better.
His words turn to groans mid-ramble, hips stuttering in the air as he tenses up. Even as you lie in the afterglow, your face flushes at the sight of his cum spurting out. The view turns blurry as a wayward rope hits the camera, dripping over his hands.
The two of you lay there for a while, sat in pools of your respective arousals and still whimpering out the last rides of your orgasm. “I made a mess,” he finally chuckles, wiping the cum away from the lens with a trembling hand. You could almost cum again just seeing him when the camera re-focuses; shirt clinging to his damp form, softening cock still dripping along his stomach, a playful smile teasing his lips at your expression.
“We both did,” you sigh out, raising your still trembling hips slightly to examine the sticky aftermath. He licks his lips at the sight, taking a FaceTime photo before you can react. You giggle as the flash paints you in light, perfectly exposing the dripping strands of cum dangling between your thighs.
“All mine,” he murmurs contentedly, eyes still on you as he stands, “Now tell me about your day while we clean up.”
In which you and Jerry have an event to go to together but he's distracted
Tags: suggestive but not full smut, established relationship, petnames, yearning needy Jerry, lots of compliments he's such a wife guy, kissing everywhere, domestic fluff
word count: 913
The city’s grand reopening of the glade was tonight, and the two of you were expected to cut the ribbon. Despite how often your husband told you any outfit was flattering, you still needed at least an hour to swap between options. With the minutes ticking away, you stood in front of the mirror trying to decide which necklace matched the dress.
“Are you almost ready, sweetheart?” Jerry softly questions from outside the bathroom door. He was never the type to rush you, but he couldn't deny his excitement every time he saw what outfit you'd pick out.
“Almost,” you affirm, lip caught between your teeth as you carefully clasp the pearls around your neck. They sparkle in the warm light of the bathroom, pulling the look together. Taking one last look in the mirror, you finally step out to get his opinion. “How do I look?” you tease, doing a small spin.
Jerry’s eyes go wide with admiration as he gazes at you, face flushing almost as red as your dress. He wordlessly pulls you closer, hands running up and down your sides. “Wow,” he murmurs, voice soft as if he might shatter your glow.
“You look amazing,” he sighs out, before cutting himself off to elaborate, “I mean, you’ve been gorgeous since the day I met you but…wow.” His eyes are filled with such mirth that you can't help but giggle, your own face flushing along with his.
“You clean up nice too,” you tease, straightening out his tie. Even dressed so clean-cut, he was practically melting now looking at you. As he presses you flush against him, eyes half-lidded, he begins leaning in. You playfully tap his lips, “If I have to redo my make-up we’ll hardly make it on time.”
He presses a kiss to your jaw, murmuring low, “I won't mess up your lipstick, I just- I need you.” Your neck cranes to give him room as he peppers soft kisses along the skin. The contact makes you shiver, chills running through your body. “You know I love it when you wear things I bought you,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your chest right under the pearls.
“We’re gonna be late,” you whimper, making no move to stop him as his broad nose hooks just at your neck to catch your scent. He rumbles low in his chest at your words, still nuzzling into you.
“I know,” he groans in a mix of annoyance and pleasure, “but you smell so good, and look so good,” he punctuates each word with a kiss before trailing off into a muffled whine against your collarbone. You gasp as he lifts you into his arms with ease, settling you on the vanity.
“See how good we look together?” he murmurs in your ear as he angles your face to gaze at the two of you in the mirror. Small things like the effortless control in his grip made your head swim. His hands trail to wrap around your hips, kneading the skin. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“I could ask the same question,” you lightly retort, arms wrapped around him as you savour his embrace. Leaning against his broad chest, the world felt condensed to the two of you in your bedroom. His cologne tickled your nose, warm and woody like the glade, the scent grounding you in his constant presence.
“I’m so glad I married you,” he whispers against your hair, gently stroking your back. He reminded you of the sentiment any time he had, and yet it still made your heart flutter. You lean back only to fondly look at the picture on the vanity, the two of you on your wedding day. He held you just as close, beaming with a bright smile while rose petals fell behind you.
Twenty years since that picture, and he still spends every moment making you feel cherished. Even now right before a career-defining moment, here the two of you were holding each other under lamplight, as if nothing else mattered in the world. You meet his eyes with a smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.
He instantly melts into it, groaning against your lips as his grip tightens around you. Yet a playful smile teases his face as he finally pulls away. “Do I have lipstick on my face?” he knowingly questions, the mirror going ignored in favour of watching himself through your eyes.
Just as you had many times before, you dab at the rose red stains with his handkerchief. Once his face is clear, albeit flushed, he takes it from your hands to gently wipe away the smudge by your lips. The two of you are left smiling at your pure display of care for each other.
“Now we’re both ready,” you grin, letting out a giggle as he lifts you once more to put you back on the ground. You’d be a little bit late, but the event couldn't start without the two of you anyway.
“The picture they take of us will probably make the best-dressed couple article,” he excitedly points out with a sly smile, hand on the small of your back as he leads you out of the bedroom.
There’s literally no Jerry Fic on here yet so I’m like alright fine i’ll do it myself😞
tags: established relationship, all fluff, breakfast, flustered Jerry, pet names
word count:686
You and Jerry were the talk of Beaverton as a perfect couple. With your work on the city council and his as mayor, the newspapers were often graced with pictures of the two of you sharing a twinkling smile in front of some exhibition or another.
Outside of the working life, though, things were much quieter. The two of you took pleasure in the simple things, like sharing a meal before work. Jerry would always get up early to cook, he loved doing anything he could to put an extra smile on your face.
You’re awoken first by the faint sound of music drifting from the kitchen, then by the unmistakably sweet smell of pancakes. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you stand and shrug on your robe before padding into the kitchen. The music is louder now as Jerry dances around the kitchen, humming to himself while he prepares breakfast.
“Good morning dear,” His mom sweetly croons from her spot at the table. She’d moved in with the two of you after her vision started to get bad, but she always remarked on how your vibrant energy made you easy to spot.
You pull her into a side-hug, both of you giggling as the loud noise rings out of something being dropped in the kitchen. With sneaking steps, you peek around the corner, stifling a laugh. Jerry bends over a bag of flour as its contents billow all around, muttering to himself under his breath.
“Good morning, Mr Mayor,” you tease as you approach, making him nearly yelp in surprise. He’s flushed as he turns to face you, splotches of flour covering his apron and face. You can’t help but giggle at his stricken expression, wrapping your arms around him.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he bashfully greets, eyes twinkling as he cracks a smile. “I was trying to make our usual pancakes… but the flour had other plans.” The two of you share a laugh as the dust settles around you, pooling at your feet.
With a pointed finger, you teasingly tap a speck of flour on his nose, making him flush. “I can tell.” you lightly retort, grinning at his expression. The warm morning light cascading through the window sends golden light through his warm brown eyes as he looks down at you with an almost incredulous smile. He’s quick to tap your own nose, giving you a matching spot of flour.
“Now we’re matching,” he grins, closing the gap between the two of you to press a kiss to your lips. You lean into it, not minding the flour smudging both of you, until the stove timer impatiently beeps reminding him to check the pancakes. He lingers before pulling away with a laugh, still keeping one arm wrapped around your waist as he moves to the oven.
The two of you were often attached at the hip like this, always had been since you met in college. Even back then as poli-sci majors on no salaries, Jerry always promised one day you’d have a lovely kitchen to cook in together. Looking at him now, he still had the same twinkle in his eye, albeit marked by the distinctive signs of age.
The grey streaks running through his dark hair almost sparkled in the morning light, perfectly gelled back as he liked it. No matter how old the two of you grew, his mannerisms remained.
Realising how long you’d been in thought, he raises a brow at you, gaze flickering between flipping the rest of the pancakes and your blissful expression. “What is it, hun?” he questions with a slight smile, pulling you closer.
“I love you, that’s all,” you murmur, leaning into him. Even after all this time, he still flushes when hearing you say it, momentarily averting his gaze with a smile.
“I love you too,” he grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Now let’s set the table, it’s time for breakfast.”
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IF YOU HATE THE NEW UPDATE REBLOG THIS POST
[ PT; please for the love of god if you hate the new update reblog this post ]
I am organizing a lights out protest on tumblr, from March 20th 6AM UTC until March 21st 6AM UTC. It is best if as many tumblr users as possible can join this protest, as a mass downtime in users is the only way the tumblr staff will listen to us.
If you cherish this hellsite, participate. Do your bit. Every person counts.
Thank you for reading, and to @staff @changes: give us our tumblr back, or the people will migrate somewhere else. This is a threat.
The buyer actually made me add all four legs after she purchased idk there’s symbolism there if you look I guess but either way I’m happy with this guy
pixar designed him for the girls and the gays on tumblr
Genuinely why the fuck is he so well illustrated in some scenes. I am actually gobsmacked. I had a mental breakdown in a Texas Roadhouse because of him. He's so freaking sodkdkejdkddkkkfjd oh my GODDDDDDDD
dailybridgerton
jbbartram-illu
tangentwithtanner
titsay
dededos
ellievsbear
romaincrisis
