#<- if you wanna know about him………...

[madamechrissy]

Figure You Out

art in the center by @ahresprite!!

pairings - Satoru Gojo x F! reader

contents/warnings- College AU, Reader and Toru are both nerds tbh, FLUFFY and sweet, some sexual tension, lots of unspoken feelings, so fkn cute I'm sick aha, Gojo playing the guitar while you're studying, kissing, light smut so MDNI- fingering, orgasms, both you and Toru are down bad virgins and stay that way for now hehe - friends to future lovers?

the Gojo guitar art has been fkn me UP so here's a lil short oneshot of them being fucking adorable and Gojo composing a song for reader- 3k wc

Satoru is playing the guitar softly in the corner of your room, leaned back in your bright pink gamer chair, the sight is as cute as you'd imagine, his lanky big body laughable in comparison. And he's playing the only song you think he knows - Wonderwall. You've heard it about eighty seven times this week, but you never ever will get tired of it.

You're exhausted from your studies, your hair is in a messy excuse for a bun falling down, you have bags under your eyes, and Satoru is just watching you as he sits across from you in your dorm room, playing softly and smiling a bit. You smile back sleepily, the two of you have been friends since high school, and you both frequently study together.

Satoru is so smart, however, he barely studies and just aces everything he does, whereas you are smart but bust your ass for those sort of grades. You haven't slept for shit with finals coming up, and here he is, long fingers strumming that guitar, as you listen with a sigh, putting down your thick textbook for just a moment.

"Is that a different song, Satoru?" You ask softly, leaning back then, he eyes your thighs as your pleated skirt rises up just a bit, willing his heart to calm down.

There's something so sexy about you like this, those dark circles just fucking suit you, the disarray of your messy band tee all torn up - your comfort shirt when you study - and the scattered books all over just fit you. You're kind of a beautiful mess, honestly, busting your ass so hard, he'd love to just make you feel better.

In every way.

You've always just been his friend, maybe the guitar and the endless versions of Wonderwall were a way to distract himself, to keep fingers occupied that would die to trace up the gentle curve of your neck. He barely composes himself as you repeat his name softly, realizing you've asked a question.

"It is, did you think I only played Wonderwall? rude," his little pout makes you giggle, as does his narrowing blue eyes. "I am composing a song, missy."

"You are? I wanna hear it." You lay down on the floor now, on your tummy with your ankles propped up and crossed, resting your chin in your hand.

"Shouldn't we be studying?" He asks, raising a brow as you tilt your head and look at him, so pretty for a moment he gets nervous.

The song he's composing is for you.

"I wanna hear it, please? I need a break, look at me." You frown, undoing the bun and letting your messy hair fall across your shoulders. The sight almost does him in.

How long has he loved you?

"All right," he smiles a bit, so cute always you think.

How long have you loved him?

It feels like forever, since freshman year when you and all of both of your friends joined high school, Nanami, Shoko, Haibara, Geto and... Gojo of course. The six of you were as close as it got, the memories endless, and now you're all in college together, and the fear of not seeing Gojo in particular grips at your heart.

Maybe it's why you always ask him over, it's not that he helps you study so much as you love him around. He's so handsome - fuck he's pretty actually, he has a whole fan club that gathers around him when he starts playing that damn Wonderwall again in the pretty field in front of the university. Gojo eats up the attention, always, but you know you're the only one that gets the private show.

He starts to play something softer, slower, you watch long fingers strumming the frets of his old acoustic guitar- gosh he's had it since high school - mesmerized for a moment. When his lips part and his thin white brows go together in concentration, he begins to sing just a bit, something you've never heard.

A little hoarse and raspy, and a tiny bit off key, it's probably the sexiest thing you've ever heard, as he looks at you with those swirling blue storms that he calls eyes, as he sings to you. You almost feel like the song is for you, and only you. Maybe it's foolish, as you sit up now, on your knees, hands on your bare thighs, looking at him.

The sight makes him fumble the strings, makes his heart race and pound in his chest, those plush lips parting just so as he gathers more courage, to tell you with his song what he's never spoken. The love he has for the girl sitting right here in front of him, the only girl for him.

"Satoru, that's so beautiful," you realize you're emotional, as he ends the song slowly, clearing his throat and blushing. You then realize you're crying. He puts down his guitar, getting down on the floor with you then, cupping your face in his hand. "Sorry, maybe I'm tired, I'm usually not one to cry randomly."

"You're exhausted," he murmurs caringly, rather than teasing you like he usually does, a thumb swiping away a tear. "You're studying too much, too hard."

"I can't disappoint everyone." Your words hurt him then, for you this is a huge scholarship, your family back home is counting on you to do big things, Satoru has his own pressure, but he sees how hard you always work.

"You don't disappoint anyone, how could you?" His words and the way he looks at you, the way the lights of your dorm hit his white locks and show just a hint of lavender in them, they do you in.

Maybe you're just tired, maybe you're just exhausted of lying to yourself, of being afraid, maybe you're past giving a fuck if he knows how you feel. You lean up then, a hand over the soft silk of his white dress shirt, more expensive than a meal card for the year. He falters, and you feel his heart quicken under your palm.

"Satoru," you whisper his name, and your pulse quickens as you lean even closer. Everything fades away, the stress of the week with finals coming up, the pressure you're under, it's all just focused on pouty, glossy lips inviting you in.

"Sweets, you're very close, and if you don't back up looking like that right now..."

"Looking like shit?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "There's not been one day I've known you where you don't just look beautiful."

Now the words are out of his mouth, you both flush, cheeks burning as your breaths come faster. "Are you saying that to-"

"It's the truth. Messy hair," he brushes it back, feeling the tangles in his fingers, as your tummy clenches with desire. "dark circles," his cool fingers press against them gently, "this shirt you've had since I known you that's falling apart..."

He brushes his hands across it now, tattered with holes and just hanging on by threads, brushing the sides of your breasts and moaning softly when he sees the nipples press up. You bite back an embarrassing moan from that, eyes locking with his then, as he draws them away.

"Nothing makes you less beautiful, maybe you're even hotter like this," you giggle, shaking your head, tears falling for what reason you're not even sure. "I'm serious."

"What'd I do to deserve a friend like you?" you lean even closer, cupping his face now, as your breaths meld together, his is so sweet, like the candies he always sucks on, his hands now pressing against the small of your back.

"You're very lucky, hearing my exclusive song. The girls all over this campus would be very jealous." You smile again, feeling his touch slip under your tee, and send shivers up your spine.

"They'd be more jealous if..." you press a hesitant kiss to his lips, feeling him tense then. You pull back, flushed and overheated, breaths coming quicker. "Sorry, I-"

"No," he drags you against him, kissing you firmly, lips pressing against yours, moaning softly as he presses you so close. You gasp at it, and his tongue slips in, making you heat up everywhere. You're trembling with how much you need him, your arms wrapping his neck as you start meeting his kiss.

He shocks you when he just lifts you up, and you're straddling his lap then, you feel him, hard and thick against you, making you gasp at the sensation. You pull back, both breathless, his fingers pressing into your hips, and he drags your heat across his cock right over his jeans, the rough denim pressing against the soaked cotton of your panties.

"Satoru..." You whisper his name, and he kisses you again, moaning softly, a hand slipping up your spine to entangle in your messy locks, and you rock your hips, feeling more and more of him. "Mnh..."

"Fuck, I need to stop," he pulls back and gasps for a breath, and you look down.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, just... I've thought of this too many times for like six fucking years now. And I think I'll really do a terrible job if we..."

"You've thought about it?" You ask softly, eyes locking again, he sees your swollen lips, your dilated eyes, and it makes him throb under his boxers for you.

Maybe if he could go jerk off once or twice he could please you, but he's close to cumming from inhaling your sweet scent, feeling your heat on his cock. He nods, swallowing then, that prominent adam's apple bobbing up and down as he rests his head on yours for a moment, exhaling.

"Every day., the words are hoarse, forced, and you roll your hips again, making him suck in a breath, glaring. "If you make me cum in my new pair of jeans I'll be so fucking mad."

"Satoru!" You're giggling now, and he scowls as you wiggle some more.

"You're a brat." You stop your giggles when he drags you off him, and you pause for just a moment, breathless before he's laying you on the soft carpet of your floor, braced over you. You two look at each other, so much left unsaid still, your hand trails down his hard chest, his strong muscles, when he grips your wrist firmly.

"Let me touch you, please?" He whines out at it, shaking his head again. "I've never tried. I've never wanted to with anyone else."

"Never wanted to?" He looks at you curiously, and you blush, looking down at where he's got your delicate wrist in his huge hand. "Have you never..." you shake your head nervously.

"Have you?" He blushes again, shaking his head, and your eyes widen. "How... you're... really?"

"I've never wanted to with anyone but you." His soft declaration has you melting, both of your breaths coming quicker together. "Doesn't mean I haven't researched it."

"Researched it?" You moan softly as he pins down a wrist, pressing his weight on that elbow as his other hand slips down your body, pressing up on his knee then.

"Extensively," he touches your nipple over your shirt, before slipping lower, down the curve of your waist and hips, then to your thighs, slipping up one carefully as you whine out. "Should I show you what I've learned?"

You nod quickly, he smiles just a bit, touching you right over your panties, and you whine out, hips lifting. "Toru..."

"God, you're soaked," his words are not that of some virgin, they're far too fucking sexy, brushing the wetness that's gathered on your panties then, before tugging them to the side, long fingers calloused from the guitar sliding up your slit. "Fuck..."

"Mmnh!" Your free hand slides into his hair, carding through the silky, thick strands to tug him closer, lips against yours again as he finds your soppy little hole, teasing a finger inside. "Please..."

"You're so tight, so wet... so hot..." he's throbbing in his pants, leaking sticky precum as he slips his finger in your gummy walls, gripping him so goddamn good he can't stand it. "Sweetheart... you're so perfect."

You're kissing him again, feeling how long and thick his finger is inserted inside of you, much longer than your tiny, pathetic fingers can hit, he presses up on that spot then, the one you've never hit. You cry out, gushing down his finger, and Satoru groans at it, curling that spot again.

"I've researched thoroughly for this moment," he teases softly, blue eyes so bright it hurts to look at, squelching wetness loud in your little room while he fingers you right on the floor. "G spot is here, does it feel good baby?"

You nod eagerly, and he moans, kissing you again and angling his arm just so, slotting that finger in and out of your cunt over and over now, curling inside as you feel the pressure growing. You're soaking him, tummy pressure building and building, you're gasping out at it, thighs shaking around his hand.

"Satoru, it feels s'good," you whisper, tired eyes rolling back in your skull, when he slips a second in, and brings your attention back, his pretty face flushed. "Oh!"

"Too much?" You shake your head, the stretch is perfect, he's scissoring them in and out of you so deep, moving them up and down. "Can you cum f'me, pretty girl?"

"Fuck..." you're one step away from just blurting out you love him, biting down on your lip and whining out.

"Can you? Be a good girl, say yes," where is nerdy, silly Satoru right now? He's pure sex, hovering so fucking big over you, as your hand entwines with one of his, your other clinging to his expensive shirt, nodding. "Words, sweetheart."

"Yes, please..." he moans at that, kissing you and curling them up just so, heel of his hand grinding your needy little clit, having you cum all over him, you scream into his lips, drooling as your cunt gushes arousal all over his fingers. He moans at feeling it, as you're pulsing around his thick digits, the sounds filthy as your lips collide.

He sucks in every cry and whine as he feels you convulsing, his thumb brushing your twitchy clit and pushing your from one orgasm into another. He can't take it when he pulls back, watching your back arch, feeling you cumming again, making a mess of his hand, down to his fucking wrists, dripping across your pretty thighs.

He's whining when he feels it, he could almost cum here, but he wills his cock to listen to reason - that when he finally has the love of his life cumming on his fingers that would so not be okay. He closes his eyes for just a moment as you're shaking, cunt gushing more and more arousal, so fucking much, when he slips his fingers out with a suctioned, loud pop.

"Oh my god... Toru..." you whisper his name, face fucked out already, just making him wonder what it will be like to sink inside you for the first time. He sighs, pulling those fingers to his lips and sucking you off them, moaning as he tastes you, your mouth drops open, face decorated in the prettiest blush. "Are you..."

"Mmm, you're so sweet," his soft whisper has you burying your face against his chest, he chuckles. "You're cute."

"You just tasted me!" He laughs again, tilting your chin up, kissing you softly, his arousal dripping on his lips, making you whine out softly, as your aftershocks rock you.

"You taste so good, don't you?" You nod nervously, when he fixes your panties carefully, but not before taking a good look at your pretty pussy, knowing he's about to jerk off to it when he gets back. "The song, it's for you."

"It is?" He helps you sit, nodding and tugging you against his chest, his cock straining and aching, but he knows now you're not experienced and he wants to reassure you.

You melt into his embrace, tears against his neck. "Sweetheart, are you all right?"

"It was so good, fuck. Sorry." He smiles in relief as you kiss up his neck, letting him hold you tightly. "It's for me?"

"Of course it is," he acts like you should just know, you can't stop the pounding in your heart. "You need a nap, you know. To rest a bit, you're working too hard."

"Will you um... nap with me?" You ask softly, he tenses, because god his dick just fucking hurts, but he sure wouldn't turn down holding the girl he's in love with.

"Of course I can." He is soon in your little twin bed, lanky body taking it over, tugging you against him, and you smile and snuggle, the exhaustion starting to set in as he strokes your hair.

"I really like the song, I never got tired of Wonderwall though." You tease, he chuckles then, burying his face against your neck and tugging you close.

"Good, I'll keep playing it for you."

"And the new one?"

"Mmhmm. Get some sleep."

Everything changed that day, the two of you falling into a comfortable nap, hoping soon you'll have the courage to say how you really feel.

This was so fluffy for me, I needed it after the angst I've been fucking with. Hope you enjoyedddd

perm tags - @alt--er--love @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @indiewritesxoxo @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoblue-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143 @squeezyvalkyrie @cookielovesbook-akie @oinksa @grignardsreagent

[oreo-creampies]

“𝐲𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤?”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! nerd!virgin!satoru, cock sucking, recording, teasing, corruption kink, experienced!reader, confessions, hints of masturbation, talking dirty

“I'm not that big, I've never really bothered to check and I've never been with-” Satoru’s jaw drops when you take your shirt off. His cheeks flush pink.

Pushing up his glasses Satoru dmiring your stunning breasts and soft nipples. “‘S beautiful.” His voice breathy, soft and sexy.

You kneel in front of Satoru studying his beautiful cock. Sticking out perfectly straight with two puffy veins. And his size! Your pussy is drooling. He could reach so deep, if he was thicker he’s be monstrous.

Kissing his pre-cum leaking cock head, looking up at him. “The fuck ya mean? I dunno if all of you is gonna fit. You’re big, not thick but long.” Dragging your tongue along his a puffy vein. His pretty lips parting with a porngraphic breathy moan. “Don't worry ya aren't skinny either, I wanna use your cock like a toy, it’s so pretty.”

Furrowing his thin white brows, “Use me however you want! Fuuuuck your tongue so soft n wet.” Satoru is sexy with with his fluffy white hair, blushing cheeks, biting his bottom lip.

You wrap both hands around Satoru, his cockhead peaks out above your hand on top. He wonders, “You really wanna show me how to use my long cock? This isn’t a joke?” Kissing Satoru’s pale pink head, taking him in your mouth swirling your tongue around.

You grab his shirt and give it a tug. “Why wouldn’t I?” He leans forwards, slipping his shirts off. His chest is well sculpted with thick pecs and six hard abs. He more built that you thought he’d be.

Satoru looks away, “Cause I'm inexperienced. The only another person I almost with got upset cause that meant I bad at it and she wouldn't be able to cum.” He stops, his pale cheeks flushing red.

You ask, “You can learn, can't ya? Think of this like a hands on way of studying anatomy. Soon enough you'll have me cumming on your tongue, fingers and cock.” Looking up at him you can hear his breath hitch when you grab his cock. Swirling your tongue around his head, sucking in your cheeks, moaning.

Satoru slips his fingers in his fluffy white hair, his moans soft and breathy. “Please,” his trembling voice is a desperate whisper, “I’ll do whatever I have to to learn, to make you cum too…can I touch you?”

You look up at his large round, dark lenses with bright blue eyes peaking over. Satoru is so hot whilst speechless and blushing. “I’m your’s.” Kissing his large balls, burying half your face in his sack with a groan.

He leans his head back your melting in your mouth and hands. “Ohhh shit! You sure you want to! Nnnn!” Your wet hot mouth around his cock and the slow bobbing of your head. Wi5h the swirling of your tongue it’s all overwhelming.

You slide Satoru out with a pop, reassuring , “I wanna be the first cunt you cum in.” Lifting his cock to kiss to balls. Getting wet from knowing that your lips were the first to touch him so intimately. “Such a pretty virgin, so hot how inexperienced and needy you are, so desperate to learn to please. I wanna corrupt you make you a pussy addicted pervert.” Sucking his balls into your mouth, stroking his cock close to your head. The slick wet sounds going between your legs.

You have the hottest guy at your collage sprawled on your couch moaning, blushing and begging.

Satoru can't look at you, glancing off to the side. “What..what about your ass. The way you looked in those jeans. I hadn't touched myself whilst thinking about someone I know until then.” You could picture him jerking off in his dorm when Suguru is gone.

You let his cock go, step back and drop your shorts. Keeping your underwear on and kneeling in front of Satoru. “Were you a needy mess, panting and touching yourself stroking your long cock thinking about fucking my ass.”

You offer, “You can record me to jerk off to later.” Pumping his cock head, thick, milky pre-cum beads on his light pink cockhead.

Licking the pre-cum up as it trickles down the side. “I barely- I tend to-nnn fuck your mouth ‘s good!” Clutching onto your sofa’s cushions, his needy whine of “Don’t stop!” Goes to your cunt.

You slip him out with soft pop to ask, “Do you wanna spend the night, ya know to actually study, we have the same class tomorrow.” Swirling your hand down the length of Satoru’s hard cock.

Dryly chucking, “Ha so now you want to talk about your studies?!” His cheeks flush darker. “Yeah we can grab some of my things then come back for a laaaaa-nnn!” Taking him in your mouth deep throating him.

Satoru swears, “Fuck you, you’re doing that on purpose.” Satoru grabs his phone swiping over to the camera. When he angles his phone at your face, you slide his cock out smiling at the lens.

You slowly swirl your hand whilst stroking his cock. “You’re gonna find out how to wreck a girl’s pussy with your cock. Day one lesson one.” Licking his cock from balls to his head, taking him deep into your mouth.

Satoru looks so beautiful tilting his head back, pale pink lips parting with an erotic moan. You want to trail kisses along his jawline and leave hickeys on his neck.

You croon, “I can’t believe I get to be the first one to ride your long, pretty dick.” You kiss his balls before sucking on half his sack. Swirling your tongue around slowly whilst softly moaning.

Satoru is a rambling mess, “I wanna cum in every hole, wanna see it coat your tongue before you swallow, n’ see it drip out both of your holes whilst they’re gaping.” Watching you with flushed pink cheeks through his camera.

He grabs your hair, holding you face buried in his balls. “Seeing my cock on your face like this, you look like a whore. I wanna smear my pre cum all over your face and fuck your mouth.” He pulls you off his cock, grabbing it and smearing his pre-cum across your lips, smearing it on your cheek.

Satoru groans, “‘S messy. I wanna fuck ya into a messy whore it’s all I can think about when I was stroking my cock.” He swirls and pumps his fist. You picture him in his dorm room stroking his cock underneath his bedsheets.

You taunt Satoru, “Virgin satoru has some fantasies, what else do you wanna do?” He grabs your hair and pulls you in, roughly smashing his lips against your’s.

Teeth clash before Satoru softens, he parts his lips and groans when you slip your tongue in. He’s a quick learner, moving his tongue with your’s.

Satoru lightly bites your bottom lip as he pulls away. “I wanna cum inside you, can I?” His cheeks flush darker, his voice becomes breathy and soft as he begs. “Please princess.”

Oreo’s m.list

[classyrbf]

professor!nanami part 3?

professor!nanami who makes you wear a pretty little butt plug during class, making sure your hold is prepped and ready for him later today. Your in the corner of the lecture room, squirming in your seat at the thought of his cock, stretching you open. You’re trying your hardest to get some sort of friction, your nipples hardening under your shirt and your pussy growing wetter with each lewd thought that fills your head. You’re not listening to a word that’s coming out of his mouth, but you are eyeing him like a piece of meat. The small bulge in khakis because his cock is just that thick, the veins running down his forearms and to his large hands, his plump pink lips that having you imagining him eating your sloppy cunt. He’s teasing you in the worst way possible and you can’t stand it, you can’t do a thing with all these people around.

So you take it upon yourself, walking down the steps and up to his desk while everyone writes down the notes on the board. “Professor Nanami?” You stand in front of his desk, rocking back and forth on your heels.

His eyes flicker up to yours, focusing on your glossy lips before trailing down to the obvious cleavage you put on display for him. “Miss y/n.”

“I really need a pencil…is it okay if I borrow one?” You bat your eyelashes at him, a devious smile on your face. “Please?” He reaches into the pencil cup on his desk, handing you one. “Thank you, Professor.” You turn to walk away, taking a few steps before purposefully dropping the pencil on the floor. You fully bend over, flashing him, showing him your dripping cunt and your cute little plug he’s given you. No panties of course. Nanami loudly clears his throat, earning a giggle from you as you grab your pencil and walk back to your seat. He eyes you the whole way there, glaring at you when you sit down and spread your legs enough for him to see under the table. His khakis tighten, his cock straining against the fabric and making it so painful for him. You’re a menace, but he should’ve known better.

Later that day, he has you in home, using the plug he bought you to fuck your ass. He pulls the plug in and out, in and out, watching the way your pretty hole swallows it right up. You hate it, but you love it, but you know it’s not as good as his cock, no, nothing is as good as his cock. It’s right there, throbbing at each whimper and whine you elicit, so damn needy for more. “That little stunt you pulled today in class almost got me in trouble, sweetheart,” he sternly spoke. You writhe in his lap, tossing your head back in frustration when he removes the plug, he slowly rubs the metal over your hole, teasing you.

“I’m sorryyy, I just—ah—wanted…your attention, Professor,” you huff. “I’m really sorryyyy.” You apologize again, biting down on your bottom lip as your hands reach up to play with your perky nipples, pulling and tweaking them.

“Learn patience. Remember?” He raises a brow. “That’s why I’m teasing you now. Just like…this.” He slowly inserts the plug back in your ass, your eyes roll back. “Awe, you’re so fucking wet you don’t even need any lube for your ass,” he chuckles.

“But…mmph—don’t you think I’ve been teased enough? I just wanna feel you inside me,” you pout, wiggling in his grip as he holds your legs open.

His cock twitches at your words. “I know you do, sweetheart, and I wanna feel you too, but the longer we hold back the more good it’ll feel. Just think about it, all that intensity building, the heat on your skin, the blood rushing to your cunt, the desire to cum, your heart beating faster and faster. It’ll be worth it.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, slowly pulling your plug out once more. You whine loudly, growing impatient despite his words. “Stay still,” he demands.”

“Sorry, sir.” You let out shaky breath, lifting your head to watch him play and tease your hole. It’s an ache you need to get rid of, something to satisfy you just a bit longer until you’re ready. This can’t be the only thing. It’s driving you absolutely crazy, messing with your mind. Your pussy is throbbing, your asshole is begging to be stretched and filled, and you just wanna be fucked dumb. “Professor, please! I’ll do anything!” You break, now begging.

He lets out a sigh, putting the plug down. “Fine, you can have my cock, but I’ll go as slow or fast as I want. Got it?” He hooks his arms under your legs, pulling them back so that your knees are by your ears. “No complaining, sweetheart.”

“Yes, yes, I got it! I just wanna feel you! Want you inside meeeeahhhhh!” You gasp, eyes wide when you slowly sink down on his thick cock, you hole stretching open just for him. The feeling of his throbbing cock in your ass puts a smile on your face, and an even bigger smile when he starts moving his hips. “Oh my fucking godddd.” He slowly pistons his cock in and out, inch my inch, letting you feel everything. From the tip down to the very base. You didn’t care how slow he was going, it still felt so good. He was right, the more teasing, the better the feeling.

“Such a good girl for taking my thick cock in your tight little ass, sweetheart. You love it, huh? Tell me you love it.” He starts moving slightly faster, but not too much, it’s still agonizingly slow.

“Mmmph, I love it, Professor. Thank you.” You breathily chuckle, a wide toothed smile still on your face, almost like you were drugged by his cock. “I love watching it go in and out…in and out…ah, fuck!” You moan, eyes fixated on where you two meet. Your toes curl from the amount of pleasure building and coursing through your veins, feeling the static on your skin. “It already feels so good!”

“Ohh,” he chuckles, “don’t tell me you’re about to cum, darling?” He thrusts his hips faster than before, only adding to your pleasure and beckoning your orgasm. “Is me going faster gonna make you cum, hm?” He grunts in your ear, fully pushing his cock inside you. “I told you, teasing works.”

“How…how am I gonna cum already?! Oh my god! Can I cum? Can I cum?! Oh fuck! Please, please!” It creeps up on you entirely too fast, something you’ve never felt before, but it has your mind spiraling and your body on fire. You can feel everything.

“Let it out, sweetheart, let it all out,” he growls in your ear, keeping the same pace as before. Incoherent babbling and moans escape your throat, eyes rolling back when your body spasms in his grip. “That’s it, good girl. Let my cock make you feel good.” He presses a kiss to the back of your neck, keeping you locked in the same position while he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuckkkkk!” You cry out, sucking in a breath. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.” Your brows furrow in pleasure, shaking your head as if he was actually planning on stopping. Truth is, he wasn’t anywhere near done with you. Why would he be? He hasn’t even fucked you at full speed yet.

[fic-girlie]

Can you write a fic about Joel making reader squirt for the first time? And he's obsessed with it

Floodgates

Pairing: jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader Summary: During a slow, intimate night in Jackson, Joel makes you squirt for the first time—and becomes utterly obsessed with the way your body gives in to him. Warnings: established relationship, explicit sexual content (+18), dirty talk, fingering, squirting

It always started like this—quietly, naturally, like the wind shifting outside your cabin window. Joel’s touch wasn’t always urgent. More often than not, it was reverent. Measured. Heavy with all the things he didn’t say aloud. That night was no different. You were stretched out beside him in the low amber glow of the bedside lamp, the sheets pushed down to your hips, your thigh brushing his as you shifted onto your side to face him. His palm was already warm against your stomach, the calluses familiar now, grounding. He was watching you in that way that made your skin heat from the inside out—like you were something he didn’t quite understand yet but was dead set on studying until he did.

“You look at me like you ain’t ever gonna stop,” you whispered, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

Joel didn’t smile back. Not exactly. His eyes flicked over your face, then down your body like he was drinking it in, slow and thorough. “That’s ‘cause I ain’t,” he muttered, voice low and rough from the hour, from whatever thick emotion had coiled in his chest. “Don’t wanna miss a single fuckin’ thing about you.”

Then his hand slid lower.

You’d thought you knew his touch. After all the nights tangled together in that bed, the lazy mornings and the needy evenings, you thought you understood how Joel moved, how he kissed, how he claimed. But this—this was different. He wasn’t in a hurry. There was no urgency, no grinding desperation like the first few months when you both couldn’t get enough. This was slower. Darker. Hungrier in a way that didn’t need to rush.

“You trust me, baby?” he asked, his lips at your throat, his voice so close it melted right into your skin.

You nodded before the question even finished leaving his mouth, your body already arching toward his like instinct. And that was all he needed. His hand slipped between your legs, spreading you open like it was second nature. And it was, now. He knew your body better than anyone. Better than you did, sometimes. But tonight, he was focused. Intent. Not just giving you pleasure but searching for something—like he knew it was there, buried under the layers of control you didn’t know you had, and he was hell-bent on dragging it out of you.

His fingers were slick with your arousal in seconds. He groaned when he felt it, dragging the sound out like it physically hurt to hold it in. “Christ. You’re already soaked for me. You been thinkin’ about this all day?”

You whimpered—barely a sound, more like an exhale caught between his fingers and the way your hips rolled into his hand. “Always thinkin’ about you,” you whispered, because it was true. In Jackson, where the world had softened just enough to let you breathe, Joel had filled every space. Every thought. Every ache.

And maybe he felt it too, because his mouth found yours in that moment, hot and slow, full of teeth and breath and hunger. He kissed you like he had to, like if he didn’t he might lose his mind, and all the while his fingers moved with unrelenting precision—circling, pressing, teasing that spot just inside you until your thighs began to tremble.

But he didn’t stop. Didn’t let you squirm away or catch your breath. If anything, he doubled down.

“You feel that?” he murmured against your lips, dragging the pad of his thumb up to circle your clit while two fingers curled inside you. “Right there. That little flutter?” He punctuated it with another slow press, curling just so. “You’re close. Real close. But I want more than that from you tonight, sweetheart.”

You clutched at his shoulders, gasping as your body twisted under the weight of sensation. “Joel—fuck—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, gripping your thigh and spreading you wider. “You will. Gonna get you there, baby. Gonna make you fall apart for me in a way you never have before.”

Your body was clenching around his fingers now, wet sounds filling the room with every pump of his hand. It was too much. Not enough. A pleasure so sharp it started to scare you—but Joel was there, anchoring you, talking you through it in that low, gravelly drawl like he’d been waiting for this.

“You feel like you’re gonna lose control?” he rasped, his voice like gravel and smoke. “That’s it, baby. That’s what I want. Let it happen. Let go. Don’t hold back from me—don’t ever hold back.”

Your back arched and your hips jerked, and you felt it snap. Something inside you broke open, a dam giving way, and then—

It was everywhere.

You cried out—loud, shocked, almost tearful—as your body spasmed, liquid gushing out of you, soaking his hand, the sheets, everything. You tried to close your legs, tried to pull away in the aftermath, but Joel wouldn’t let you. He held you there, eyes wide with awe, lips parted like he couldn’t fucking believe what he’d just seen.

“God damn, baby,” he breathed, his voice caught somewhere between reverence and raw lust. “You fuckin’ squirted for me.”

You turned your face into the pillow, mortified and overwhelmed, but he didn’t give you a second to spiral.

“Hey,” he said, gripping your jaw gently, tilting your face back toward his. His pupils were blown wide, hair sticking to his forehead. “Don’t you dare be embarrassed. That was the hottest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen. You hear me?”

You nodded, blinking through the daze, your heart pounding like it might leap out of your chest.

Joel grinned, dark and wolfish and downright feral. “You’ve been holdin’ that in all this time? No one’s ever made you come like that?”

You shook your head.

His expression twisted into something possessive, something primal. “Good. I want it to be me. Only me. No one else gets to see you like this.”

He dragged his soaked fingers up your thigh, up your belly, smearing slick against your skin before bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean with a groan that made your core pulse all over again.

“Jesus, baby,” he said, voice rough. “You taste so fuckin’ sweet when you come like that. You’ve got no idea what you do to me.”

You whimpered as he leaned over you again, pressing his thick length against your still-throbbing core.

“Think you can give me one more?” he whispered, already lining himself up, already kissing the sweat from your collarbone like he’d never get enough. “Wanna see it again. Wanna feel you soak me while I’m buried deep inside.”

And you knew, right then, that Joel wasn’t going to stop until he wrung every last drop from you. Until you couldn’t remember your name. Until the sheets were ruined, and you were wrecked, and he was satisfied that no one could ever come close to what he gave you.

And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[reveriebae]

Send Nude?

pairing(s) : Mingi x reader

word count : 2332

summary : you were only kidding, he wasn't.

genre : smut

warning(s) : Online flirtation → IRL hookup, Mirror fingering, Vein kink (explicit worship), Cock worship, Dirty talk that will get you pregnant, Ass slapping, Doggy style, Praise + degradation mix, Spit, lube, cum mention, Choking (light), Hair pulling, Marking (handprints, cum inside), Slight overstimulation, After-sex banter & bratty backtalk, Mingi being hot and knowing it. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N : SONG MOTHERFUCKING MINGI, I WANNA SIT ON YOUR FACE TILL YOU CAN'T FUCKING BREATH😤😤

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

It starts with an Instagram story.

Not even a sinful one—well, not explicitly. Just Mingi, shirtless, post-gym, flexing in the mirror like he’s auditioning for an anime reboot of Magic Mike. Traps bulging, abs glistening, hair messy like he just rolled out of bed and into your fantasies.

But it’s the veins. The veins.

His arms look like god personally sculpted them to ruin your life. Thick, pulsing rivers of blood lust crawling from his forearms up to those thick biceps. The kind of veins that scream, "I can hold your legs open and still roll your eyes back with just two fingers."

And the worst part?

You’re mutuals.

You don’t know him, not really. But you’ve exchanged likes. A few meme replies. He once retweeted your selfie with a “👀” and that alone had you contemplating the circumference of his dick.

So when he drops that mirror thirst trap with a casual caption—

“gym got me feelin like a Jojo character today lol”

—you don’t think.

You just type.

"send nude?"

It’s meant to be funny. You’re high on vein kink and zero impulse control. You expect no reply. Maybe a like at most.

Instead...

fixon_n_on has sent you a message.

You blink. Your heart skips. You open it.

@fixon_n_on : you want it from the front or the back?

You almost throw your phone across the room.

You stare at the screen, face hot, mouth dry, thighs not. You're about to reply with something dumb like “LMAO chill I was kidding,” when a photo comes through.

Not a dick pic—he’s smarter than that.

It’s him, again, in the mirror. This time in sweatpants, low enough to show that dangerous V-line. His phone’s in one hand, the other pushing his waistband down just enough to reveal no underwear. His dick’s not out, but you can see the print. And it’s…

Well. Jesus wept.

@fixon_n_on : front. want the other too?

"You’re insane"

"You can’t just do this"

"I’m literally feral now. I hope you’re happy"

@fixon_n_on : send something back then.

I wanna see what I’m working for.

You panic.

But also? You're already halfway to your bedroom, lighting adjusted, camera propped up against your dresser. You pick your best lingerie—black lace, of course—and position yourself kneeling on the bed, arching your back, head turned just enough to show the smirk on your lips.

You send it.

And wait.

It doesn’t take long.

@fixon_n_on : oh you’re a fucking problem, stay like that.

@fixon_n_on : 10 minutes.

"what?"

@fixon_n_on : I’m outside.

Your soul leaves your body. You run to the window like a girl in a teen drama and THERE HE IS. In a hoodie and gray sweats, baseball cap pulled low, looking up at your building.

You open the door in a robe and nothing else.

He doesn’t say anything when you let him in. Just walks straight past you, drops his phone on your counter, and turns to face you like you’re his final exam.

“Thought you were just horny on main,” he mutters, voice low, eyes burning.

You shrug. “You posted that photo. I was just—”

“You were asking for it.”

And then he’s kissing you. Hard, messy, hand gripping the back of your neck while the other pulls at your robe like he owns the rights to it. Tongue sliding past your lips, hips pushing into yours, and God, he’s big. You feel it, even through the layers, pressing into your stomach.

He breaks the kiss only to whisper, “Where’s the bed?”

You nod toward your room, breathless.

He tosses you over his shoulder like it’s nothing.

You barely register the way he throws you on the bed—your robe falls open, lace panties barely covering anything, tits perking up like they know what’s coming. But Mingi’s not in a rush. He kneels behind you, towering in the mirror, eyes roaming every inch of your reflection like you’re his personal slutty art piece.

"Don’t move," he mutters. His voice is deeper now—dangerously low, like sin poured over honey. "Look at yourself. Look how pretty you are when you’re about to get ruined."

You start to turn around, but his palm lands flat on your ass, making your thighs jolt. You gasp.

"Did I stutter?" he growls.

You meet your own eyes in the mirror—wide, flushed, trembling.

Then you see his hand.

Veins. Fucking ropes of them, bulging from his forearm, crawling over the back of his hand like he was engineered in a lab just to wreck lives. He slides his fingers down your back slowly, tracing the curve of your spine, dragging calloused fingertips over your lace waistband and tugging it down with a single curl.

And you swear to God, you moan at the way his forearm flexes doing it.

“S-shit…” you breathe.

He hears that.

“Oh?” Mingi leans down, chest against your back, lips brushing your ear. “You moaning for my veins, baby?”

“Maybe,” you whisper, already breathless.

He smirks. “That’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Then you feel it—his fingers, thick and skilled, sliding between your legs. He presses two against your slit, slow and teasing, rubbing over your folds like he’s just admiring the texture. You’re already soaked.

"All this," he says, voice hoarse, "from a fucking photo?"

"All this," you gasp, "from a fucking forearm."

He laughs. He actually laughs, low and cocky, before slowly sliding two fingers inside you.

And fuck—he knows what he’s doing.

Long, deep strokes. Curling just enough to make your legs shake. His other hand grips your thigh, and that’s when you see it—those veins again, tensing as he fucks you with his fingers, his eyes locked on your reflection.

"Touch your tits," he growls. "Wanna see how messy you look for me."

You obey.

Your back arches. His fingers go faster. The sound is obscene—wet and needy—and you're whining now, trying to hold it in, but failing.

“Look at you,” he pants, breath hot against your neck. “My needy little internet girl. You gonna cum just from my fucking hand?”

“I-I—”

“Say it.”

"Y-yes! I’m gonna cum—fuck, Mingi, your hands, your f-fucking veins—"

And then he pulls out.

You scream.

He grins like the menace he is, sucking his fingers clean, his fucking tongue dragging between them like he’s savoring the taste of your defeat.

Then?

Then comes the cock reveal.

Mingi pushes his sweats down and you actually gasp. Like, cartoonishly. Hand over your mouth, eyes wide, legs clenched.

It’s—

Baby.

It’s heavy. Thick. Veins trailing down the shaft like they belong in a goddamn museum. The head flushed deep pink, already leaking, curved just slightly upward like it was designed to hit your g-spot and wreck your life.

“No fucking way,” you whisper.

He wraps his hand around it lazily—more veins flexing in his forearm—and strokes once. Just once. And you feel your pussy throb.

"Yeah," he says, watching your jaw drop. "You're drooling."

You blink, dazed, mouth parted. Mingi’s standing behind you now, one hand gripping his cock lazily, the other on your ass, spreading you open so both of you can see how soaked you are in the mirror.

"Look at this shit," he grunts, dragging his tip over your folds. "Dripping like you were waiting for me. You been thinking about this cock all week, huh?"

"Y-yes," you whimper. “Ever since that fucking mirror selfie—”

He presses the head against your entrance but doesn’t push in. Just teases it. Rubbing circles around your clit with the head, using your wetness like lube, slick sounds making your face heat up.

“You got off to it?” he asks low, his lips brushing your ear. “Did you cum to my pic, baby?”

You nod.

"Uh-uh. Say it."

“I fucking came to it, Mingi. I rubbed my pussy to your arms and your stupid fucking veins—fuck—”

He laughs darkly. "Yeah, you’re sick."

Then—finally—he pushes in.

And Jesus fucking Christ.

Your hands slam against the mirror, breath catching, your whole body jerking forward from the stretch. He fills you like he’s trying to mold his shape into your cunt. Thick, hot, just the right curve—and he doesn’t move for a second.

Just breathes.

"Goddamn," he mutters. “You're tighter than I thought. You tryna milk me already?"

You moan, legs trembling.

Mingi grabs your hair, yanks your head up to force your gaze into the mirror again.

“Nah. You watch this. Watch how I wreck this pretty little pussy.”

He starts thrusting—deep, rough strokes. Slow at first, like he’s letting you feel every fucking inch. The mirror fogs up from your panting, from his filthy mouth in your ear.

"You like that? Huh?"

"Yes—yes, Mingi, fuck!"

"This pussy’s made for me. Look how it sucks me in."

He groans when you clench, dragging his hand from your waist to your front, pressing on your lower belly.

"Feel that?" he growls. "That’s me, baby. That’s my cock inside you. Splitting you open like you asked for it."

You’re babbling now—nonsense, cries, desperate yeses. But Mingi’s not done.

“You wanted it so bad, right? Posting your ass online, sending me slutty pics like a little tease—”

“I wanted you,” you whimper.

“Yeah, you do want me. Want me to fuck your brains out. Want me to make you drool on this mirror like the cock-drunk little whore you are.”

Your legs nearly give out. He catches you, one arm banded around your waist as he pistons into you now, rougher, faster—pure filth slapping against your soaked thighs, the sound disgusting in the best way.

"Say it's mine," he growls.

"It’s yours," you gasp.

"Say you're gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl."

"I—fuck, Mingi—I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum—"

And you do.

You cum hard, back arched, eyes rolling, your body twitching as he fucks you through it with a satisfied grunt.

“That’s it. Fuckin’ soak me.”

He pulls out just long enough to flip you around, throws you on the bed again, and gets on top. He kisses you hard, messy, fingers in your hair, his cock still throbbing.

“You think I’m done with you?” he breathes against your lips.

You’re still catching your breath, legs shaking, mascara smudged, when Mingi pulls you up by the hips and flips you back over like a ragdoll. He drags you to the edge of the bed, feet barely touching the floor, ass high in the air, pussy still dripping.

“You think I’m done with this ass?” he mutters, palm grazing your cheek, fingers flexing like he’s about to commit a crime. “Nah. Not even close.”

You glance back, dazed, lips parted.

And he just grins.

Then—SMACK.

His palm cracks against your ass, loud and sharp. You jolt forward, a choked moan spilling out.

"Fuck—Mingi!"

"Too much?" he asks, rubbing the sting gently with those big, veiny hands. The contrast between pain and softness makes your eyes roll back.

"Not enough," you gasp.

He laughs. Dark. Delighted.

"Filthy little thing. You like getting spanked, huh?"

"Love it."

Another slap. This time harder. And another. His handprint is going to be there for days.

Then he grips both cheeks, spreading them open. He groans at the sight of you.

“God, this pussy’s begging for me.”

He strokes himself once, then lines up—and thrusts all the way in.

No teasing. No build-up. Just ruthless, deep doggystyle.

You scream into the sheets.

“Oh my fucking God—”

“That’s right,” he growls. “Take it. Let me fuck this tight little hole till I break you.”

His rhythm is brutal. Each thrust slams into you with force, your tits bouncing with every movement. You’re whining, moaning, drooling into the pillows—and he fucking loves it.

"You feel that, baby?" he pants. "Feel my cock stretching you out?"

"Yes—yes, Mingi, fuck—so big—"

He leans over you, chest to your back, one hand choking the headboard, the other sliding under to grip your throat. His lips brush your ear.

"You gonna cum again? From getting fucked like a bitch in heat?"

“Yes—fuck, please, I want it—”

He pulls your hair, forcing your head back. His breath is hot and filthy on your neck.

"Want what?"

"I want your cock—I want you to ruin me, please, please—"

"You want me to fuck you dumb?"

"Yes!"

SMACK.

Another hit to your ass—this one meaner. You fucking sob.

“That’s what I thought,” he snarls. “This pussy belongs to me now.”

And then he grabs your hips again, starts fucking you harder—if that’s even possible. You feel every vein, every ridge, every goddamn inch dragging inside you like he was crafted by the devil for the sole purpose of ending you.

You're gone.

Crying out his name. Screaming.

“Cum for me,” he grits. “Fucking cum on this cock, let me feel you lose it.”

And when you finally do—when your body seizes, your orgasm ripping through you so hard your vision blanks—he doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through your orgasm. Keeps pounding, relentless, groaning like a beast.

“Fuck—baby, I’m close—where do you want it?”

"Inside," you gasp. "I want you to fill me, Mingi—please—"

That does it.

He growls, low and feral, and slams into you one final time.

You feel it—hot and deep, his cock twitching inside as he spills everything, his grip bruising your hips. He stays buried there, panting against your back, sweating, hand still on your ass like a trophy.

Silence.

Then—his voice. Hoarse, cocky.

"...My veins really did this to you, huh?"

You’re breathless.

"Fuck your veins, Mingi."

He grins, kisses your back.

"You did."

[hanniescookie]

adore you - yjh

—⁠☆ you meet your boyfriend after three weeks.

pairing - jeonghan x f!reader

genre/warnings - idol au, fluff, romance, military jeonghan cus i'm obsessed, kissing, use of petnames, reunion after three weeks of separation lololol, self aware king jeonghan, lil bit of yearning ¿

wc - 898

A/N - i adore hannie in a uniform, i adore his entire existence if y'all don't know already. of course i had to write something about today!! i love him so much, he heals me everyday (⁠･ั⁠ω⁠･ั⁠)

A pair of warm, familiar hands shield your eyes from behind and all the restlessness that had accumulated in your body releases at once.

You don't gasp, don't flinch. Your mouth exhales a sigh of contentment, and your lips curl up in what your boyfriend calls a sulky smile. Your hands curl around the bouquet of flowers you've been holding as you lean back against the body behind you, practically letting go of your own weight.

“Hannie.” You mutter, and hear a giggle right next to your ear. It makes you smile harder, your heart dancing in excitement.

“You got me, angel.” He says, dropping his hands to hold you steady by your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. One of his hands rounds you to touch the flowers you've brought, and you can feel him smiling beside your face. “Flowers? For me? Or do you have any other trainees to meet here?”

You click your tongue, unable to help the giddiness in your stomach. Hearing his voice, feeling his warmth, having him near you—it’s all a little overwhelming after a grand total of three weeks. However, you keep your tears hidden in fear of being teased by him.

“I'm only here for my boyfriend.” You say, staring at his hand that's caressing the flower petals. You wish to hold it, but somehow, you're a little too occupied with how peaceful you feel in his hold. Watching his ceremony from afar put you at ease already, healing something inside you that you didn't even know had broken since he left. But it also made you restless, not being able to wait till you could see him, hold him, kiss him.

However, now that he's here, you feel like all common sense has fled out of your body, You can only lean against him, let him hold you, and feel him.

“Really, now?” Jeonghan speaks in a low voice, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “The boyfriend you won't even look at?”

You shut your eyes, letting your smile widen. Your hand is trembling a little as you reach out and keep it above his large one. Somehow, it looks even bigger than the last time you'd held it.

“I missed my boyfriend a lot.” You utter, bringing his hand up and kissing it. “God forbid a girl is scared to look at the said boyfriend.”

You hear Jeonghan laugh, his neck craning to try and look at your face. “Hey, why would you be scared?”

You shut your eyes, shifting the bouquet to one hand and lifting the other to move his face away. “Don't look at me. I don't wanna cry.”

Jeonghan coos at you, holding you tighter with both his arms and pressing a chaste kiss in the crook of your neck. “It's okay, angel. You can cry if you want to. But at least look at me?”

You pout, your eyes instantly welling up with tears as you shake your head, quickly turning in his hold. The moment your eyes meet his, you shut them tight, taking a deep breath and then opening them again to see his smiling face.

God, it's unfair how beautiful he is.

Surprisingly, despite the tears of overwhlem in your eyes, you mirror his gorgeous smile.

“I missed you too,” he says against your forehead, softly pressing a kiss against your skin. “So much. I might cry too.”

You've known Jeonghan enough to tell that he's missed you, but he's only saying this so you don't feel stupid about crying. That alone makes you shed a tear as you tiptoe and wrap your arms tightly around his neck. As part of his muscle memory, he hugs you back, stuffing his head in your shoulder. His hand cradles your head, softly threading your hair every second. “You're not even crying.”

“I thought you hated to see me cry,” you sniff, pressing yourself more against him to feel his warmth as much as you can. He chuckles, kissing your shoulder blade. “Not when you're crying because you nearly died from missing me.”

You pull back, frowning and hitting him with a fist. “Stop being like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like the world revolves around you.”

“Yours does.”

You open your mouth to argue, but any words of retaliation die down on your tongue. How are you supposed to deny that? All your three weeks worth of sadness have washed away just with one glimpse of him. Your world indeed revolves around him.

He giggles, taking the flower bouquet from you and handing you a photograph instead. You furrow your brows, staring down at your hand to see a picture of you that he had taken out from his pocket.

He places a gentle kiss on your lips, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger, before smiling softly. “My world revolves around you too, angel.”

The surge of emotions that course through your body is insane, and you instantly smile, holding his face between your palms and pecking him. “I adore you, hannie.”

He smiles, rubbing his nose against yours. “Mhm, I know. I adore you too, angel.”

And you know, no matter how many wounds cut through you, you'll always heal as long as Jeonghan is beside you. No matter how many weeks you spend apart from him, your comfort will find you in his form, always.

[docrobinavitch]

chasing ghosts

dr. abbot x f!resident!reader masterlist content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, lots of angst, age gap, swearing, alcohol, mentions of child death/multiple casualties at the beginning during a shift words: 8.1K synopsis: you and jack share a kiss during your second year of residency and you spend the next two years trying to outrun those feelings. until the pitt's annual summer party. jack abbot is down absolutely fucking horrendously. like i meaaaaan unprecedented levels of yearning. a/n: hi, i think i blacked out while writing this. eyeeeee had so so much fun. i hope i did jack justice. let me know what you think!!!!

The annual summer party for the Pitt is an all day affair in order to make sure everyone, regardless of who’s working what shift that day, has a chance to stop in.

You wouldn’t think it, but the ER knew how to throw a good party. In the morning, it started with brunch at a place downtown with bottomless mimosas, top tier pancakes, and a drag performance. After brunch, they’d go hang out at the park by the river for a few hours before reconvening for dinner and bar hopping downtown.

Jack Abbot was off today, but still skipped all the morning and afternoon activities in favor of the evening. His sleep schedule was built that way now and even on his off days, it was rare for him to be out during the day. Besides, he was hoping he’d run into you there after your own shift.

You never came to these types of events, but that didn’t stop him from hoping every time. His eyes were always searching, hoping they’d stumble upon yours.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to you much in the last two years, since you switched to the day shift. When shift change occurred, you largely avoided him. He asked Robby about you and Robby always said the same thing, “She’s a great doctor, but she keeps to herself.”

It hadn’t been like that when you were on the night shift. You were shy, sure, but it hadn’t taken Jack very long to pry you out of your shell. 

He wondered sometimes if you regretted it, now. Letting him in.

Now, he was making the rounds at the first bar of the night, not so subtly looking for you.

“You’re pathetic,” Robby teased as he sipped his beer.

“Huh?” Jack said, finally bringing his eyes back to the man in front of him. 

Robby smirked knowingly, “She is here, you know.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” He said, “But her boyfriend is supposed to be meeting her here.”

His heart stuttered in his chest, “Boyfriend?”

Robby nodded, “I didn’t know she was seeing anyone until today. I overheard her mention it to Heather.”

Fuck. Not only were you seeing someone, you were bringing him here, to meet everyone in the Pitt. You must’ve been serious about him, then.

“Do you know where she is?”

Robby tilted his head as he looked at Jack, “You sure you wanna go down that road?”

“I just want to talk to her.” He said, and it was true. Mostly. 

The two of you hadn’t had a real conversation since the week before you had requested the shift change. That night on the roof. He felt it was long overdue for the two of you to sit down and talk about it like adults. Maybe Robby was right, maybe it was much too late for that. 

But Jack couldn’t accept that.

Robby sighed heavily, “I saw her go upstairs to the rooftop bar with Heather and Samira twenty minutes ago.”

“Thanks, brother.” Jack clapped him on the back as he headed up the stairs.

***

You liked the quiet of the night time. Being awake and working when everyone else was asleep brought with it a sort of peaceful solitude you couldn’t quite explain.

But Jack hadn’t needed you to explain, he had understood it intrinsically.

The night shift, of course, could become hectic and even nightmarish at times. But if you stepped outside for some air, either on the roof or the ambulance bay, the quiet of the night cocooned you in safety.

And that’s where you were that night two years ago, on the roof and leaning over the railing, trying to catch your breath.

There had been a six car pile up almost immediately rushed in after the day shift had trickled out. Ten patients. Four of them were in critical condition when they arrived, in that terrible purgatory between life and death. For five hours, you, Abbot, Shen, and Ellis had bounced between them. Still, you lost all four of them.

You had kept it together for the half hour after you had called the last patient, despite the fact that you had felt Jack’s eyes on you the whole time.

But he seemed able to keep it together, to not fall apart, so you would too. The knee jerk response to impress him, to make him proud of you had never quite dulled in your two years of residency. It felt a bit fucking pathetic, actually.

Worse, still, that he seemed to notice how badly you craved his validation and so gave it freely. 

“Hey,” He stepped close to you, his warm breath caressing your cheek, “Go take a break, I’ll come find you in fifteen.”

“I don’t need a break.” You said quickly.

“You do,” He said, undeterred, “You’ve been staring dead eyed at the board for the last two minutes. Shen tried to call you over for a code stroke thirty seconds ago and you didn’t blink.”

You turned to him finally, panic on your face, “Fuck, seriously?” 

You started to walk to go find Shen and the stroke patient, but Jack grabbed your arm, “Nope, uh-uh. Break first. Now.”

It was rare that Jack wasn’t joking with you, trying to make you smile. Now he looked deadly serious. Like he would physically remove you from the floor himself if you refused. You must’ve looked like shit.

“Okay.” You said finally, “Fine.”

He released your arm, but his eyes trained on your every step as you walked away, “I catch you on a patient in the next fifteen minutes and I’m sending you home.” He called after you.

You raised your hand over your head in a thumbs up to signal that you’d heard and kept walking.

And that was how you ended up on the roof. Bathed in the moonlight with the quiet midnight streets of Pittsburgh below, silent tears streamed down your cheeks as you greedily sucked the night air into your lungs.

You weren’t aware of time passing and your mind had gone blissfully blank until you heard him come up behind you.

“How come you, Ellis, or Shen didn’t need a break?” You asked, your voice wavering, “Is there something wrong with me?”

He leaned over the railing at your side and turned his head to look at you, but you avoided his eyes, knowing they’d be soft and warm and inviting. You did not need to see him looking at you like that right now. Just like you had been trying not to notice the way he watched you more than the others, touched you more than was necessary, handed out praise to you more generously.

“Not even a little bit.” He said softly, voice rough, “You were perfect down there. Nothing else you could have done.“

You breathed out a shaky breath, “Then why does it feel so bad?”

“Because you’re human,” He said softly, “And because you were the only one of us to call time of death on a seven year old tonight.”

You swallowed, tilting your head up towards the sky so you could see the moon. A moon that seven year old kid would never see again. “Does it ever hurt less?”

“Fuck, no.” He sighed, “But it makes you a better doctor, I think. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself to try to make it all mean something.”

Finally, you looked at him, and the sight of your red rimmed eyes wrecked him, “It does make you a better doctor,” You hiccuped and gave him a small smile, “The best, probably.”

He shook his head, smirking, and looked down at his hands, “Careful, kid. You keep talking like that, I might think you actually like me.”

Feeling brave, you nudged your shoulder against his, “I mean it. I feel really grateful that you’re my attending. I wouldn’t want to learn under anyone else.”

He pushed his shoulder back against yours and your hands brushed where they each grasped the railing, “I came up here to make you feel better and somehow you’re the one comforting me. How did you get so good at deflecting?”

You laughed through your tears and he relished the sound, “I learned from the best,” You said pointedly as you looked over at him.

“See,” He pointed at you, teasing, “That’s what I’m talking about. Much better. You’re way less unsettling when you’re mean.”

You smiled and he found himself staring at your mouth, enraptured by it, really. The truth was, he had noticed the ways in which he was better when he was around you. Both as a doctor and a teacher. You made him want to be better. He knew he had been giving you more attention than the others, bordering on an inappropriate amount. And he knew, before he came up to the roof, that he’d have a hard time being alone with you and not imagining what you taste like or what your soft skin would feel like under his calloused hands.

He thought you felt the same, but you could be hard to read sometimes. Sometimes, he swore you leaned into his touch, other times you jumped away from it as if he had burned you. Sometimes you went whole days seemingly trying to avoid him, others you followed him around like a puppy waiting for a pat on the head and for him to tell you what a good girl you are.

But now, fuck, now you were gazing at his mouth, too. And he tried, really fucking tried, to rein in the desire. He shouldn’t have kissed you. And he would think about it every day for days and weeks and months and years how badly he wished he could take it back. Not because he didn’t mean it or didn’t want it, but because it had started this downward spiral of silence and distance until you were so far away he hadn’t really seen you up close in two years. If he could go back, he would’ve told himself it wasn’t worth it. Because having only this much of you day in and day out while he yearned for more was better than having nothing at all, than you slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. 

But he didn’t know then what he knew now. 

Cautiously, he moved his face towards yours, waiting for you to pull back. But inch by inch he moved, and you stayed put. And when he was close enough to share breath with you, he met your eyes and was greeted with pupils that had completely devoured your irises. No color in sight, just an endless abyss of desire and want. Your breath faltered when his lips just barely brushed yours, and he stilled for a moment before his self restraint crumbled.

The kiss was hesitant and gentle, at first. Jack kept his hands to himself, slowly kissed you in a way that repeatedly seemed to ask Is this okay? Is this alright? Are you okay? Are you sure?

It was you who deepened the kiss first, tongue darting out to swipe gently at his lower lip.

And the cord between you, that was already so tenuous and frayed, snapped.

His hands shook as he touched you, moving from your waist, to your neck, to your face. It was like his body knew first what his brain didn’t, that he was taking too much and not enough, that hours and days and months and years of touching you would never satiate him anyway and he should just fucking quit while he was ahead. His traitorous mouth that moaned into yours was a bottomless, greedy pit and it could never have you, not really, not even as it sucked desperately at your neck in a useless attempt to mark you as his.

The marks would fade and you would fade from him along with them. 

He thinks now he probably knew as soon as you pulled away, at the panic in your eyes, that he had lost you before he had even really had the chance to have you. 

But he would deny it to himself, even as you ran off the roof ignoring the way your name came out strangled from his throat. 

He would deny it when you didn’t look at him the rest of the night, when you pretended not to hear when he tried to talk to you after the shift change that morning.

He would deny it when you handed him your shift change request form after a week of avoiding him, asking for his signature as you looked anywhere but at him.

He would deny it when his broken voice asked “Is this really what you want?” and you only silently nodded.

Jack Abbot knew he had lost you, he wasn’t delusional, but he could convince himself it was only temporary. He was patient. So fucking patient. He’d find you again, when you were ready.

***

Jack could admit that you having a boyfriend had not been part of his plan. Not that he had a plan, more so an overwhelming sense that if he waited long enough, you’d fall back into him.

But you had still been fleeing the ER at shift change without acknowledging him. He was patient, but it aggravated him to no end, the way you seemed so unaffected. Sometimes it made him feel like maybe he had made it all up in his head and that you had never wanted him at all. But then the film would play on loop again in his head and he knew he didn’t imagine your blown out pupils or the way you deepened the kiss first or the way you moaned when his mouth plucked bruises from your neck like ripened strawberries.

You had wanted him just as badly, he was sure of that. He just couldn’t understand why you were still acting like he didn’t exist.

When he got to the rooftop and looked around, he found you first at a table in the corner, eyes glued to your phone. Another quick glance around and he saw Heather and Samira talking at the bar.

Perfect. You were alone.

When he crossed the roof and sat in the empty seat next to you and you didn’t immediately look up, he realized you had marked his presence on the rooftop as soon as he got here.

The man was like a fucking sonar to your brain. You knew when he was in the same room as you before your eyes could track him. Tonight was no different.

“You look like you could use a drink.” Jack said.

Oh, you hadn’t realized how much you had missed the pleasant roughness of his voice, how it soothed you effortlessly. It practically sent chills down your spine.

You swallowed, continuing to stare at your phone. The second you met those warm hazel eyes, it would be over for you, you knew. It was the reason you had avoided him so diligently the last two years.

“Heather and Samira are getting me one.”

He wordlessly held his own drink out to you. When you stared blankly at it for a few moments, he shook it lightly, ice rattling against the glass, “It’s just a tequila soda. It’s not poison.”

Against your better judgment, and perhaps to indulge that stupid fucking instinct in your head that demanded you not disappoint him, you took it from him. You did your best not to pay attention to the sensation that shot across your skin when your fingers brushed, but the traitorous goosebumps spread across your arms anyway.

You took a sip and handed it back to him, still looking at your phone.

“Why aren’t you with them at the bar?”

“I had to take a call.”

“From your boyfriend?” Finally, fucking finally, you looked at him. It was disdain all over your face, but fuck it, he’d take it. He smirked and held his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t ask, Robby told me. Said he was meeting you here.”

Quickly, you looked back at your phone and he saw your throat bob, “He called to say he couldn’t make it, so.”

Jack watched you carefully, the way you frowned and your mouth turned down just slightly. You were upset, and not just at him. 

“I’m sorry,” He said softly, but you scoffed at his apology and shook your head. And that pissed him off, “Look, you may fuckin’ hate me, but I still care about you and I mean it. I’m sorry if he stood you up. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

You rubbed at your forehead in agitation, “I don’t hate you. I’ve never fucking hated you. That’s the problem.”

Well, that was news to him. But he decided not to comment on it. He didn’t want to piss you off anymore than he already had, which seemed to be an awful lot considering he had just got here.

“How long have you been together?” You shot him that annoyed look again, “Christ, I’m just making conversation.”

“Right,” You said sarcastically and shook your head, but you answered all the same, “Two and a half years.” You said quietly. It hadn’t quite caught up to you yet, what you were admitting when telling him that. It took a couple of moments for your brain to catch up, but by then it was too late.

But Jack’s brain was already there, making the mental calculations you had long forgotten about.

Two and a half—? No, that—That couldn’t be right. Because that would mean—

Your face and ears had reddened and you wouldn’t look at him.

Jack’s ears were ringing. He started to say your name—

“Dr. Abbot,” Heather and Samira were back, the latter handing you a drink, “Catching up with your old resident?”

He forced a smile and stood, acted like his world wasn’t fucking falling apart around him, like you hadn’t just dropped a fucking bomb on him in casual conversation.

He was impressed with his ability to hold damn near cheerful conversation with Heather and Samira until he was able to excuse himself.

And this time, it was you who called after him when he left the roof.

“Jack,” Your voice was a soft plea behind him. It was a language he used to be fluent in, but clearly, he didn’t fucking know you anymore. He was starting to think he never had, “Jack, wait—“

He rounded on you in the stairwell, you still a couple of steps above him so the two of you were eye level, “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

You seemed to be caught off guard that he had actually stopped, and just blinked at him for a moment, “What difference would it have made?”

“What difference—?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “All this time I’ve been driving myself out of my goddamn mind trying to figure out what I did wrong when it turns out I was your fucking, what, side piece? Affair?”

“Affair?” You hissed incredulously, “We kissed once!”

He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head, “Does he know?” 

“What?”

He was quickly becoming frustrated with your inability to keep up with the urgency this situation demanded. To him, at least, the whole world had shifted around him. And you were behaving as if he was the one acting crazy.

“Your boyfriend, does he know? About us?”

“Jack,” You said breathlessly, “There is no us. There was never an us.”

Jack shook his head, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” You asked, exasperated.

“I’ve been pining after you for two fucking years and you’ve compartmentalized so goddamn well that you’ve convinced yourself it was nothing. That it meant nothing.”

For a second, he thought he saw a flicker of the version of you he used to know. Your face faltered for just a second, but then the walls were immediately back up, “I don’t owe you anything.” You said coldly, “It’s not my fault you’ve spent the last two years chasing a ghost.”

You stared each other down for a few more moments, the rage pulsating between you, before Jack broke your stare by tossing back the rest of his drink, “You’re right,” He said finally, and turned away from you to head down the stairs, “I’m sorry I disrupted your evening. Won’t happen again.”

You sighed, “Jack—“

“It’s Dr. Abbot,” He said coldly, turning back to face you again, “If you don’t mind.”

Your face fell marginally and he almost took it back when he thought he saw your lower lip wobble, but he couldn’t be sorry. If you wanted to pretend like there was nothing between the two of you, then he would do the same.

He turned again and jogged down the rest of the stairs. He needed another drink. Or seven.

***

Your hands were shaking. You stood in the stairwell staring stupidly after Jack for longer than was acceptable. You couldn’t go back upstairs to Heather and Samira like this, they’d know something was up. And you certainly couldn’t follow after Jack.

You should just go home. It was a stupid fucking idea to come here in the first place, you knew it was. And still you had come, why?

Because some part of you wanted to see him? No matter how much you denied it? Never mind the fact you had basically only invited your boyfriend because you knew his presence would keep you accountable if you were forced to be alone with Jack?

You hadn’t wanted him here, not really. Not for reasons that made sense. If you were honest with yourself, which you hadn’t been in a long, long time, your relationship had been over for at least six months.

Seeing Jack again, hearing his voice again made that very clear to you. And a part of you hated Jack for it. You had been able to convince yourself for two years that your current relationship was as good as it would get. Your mistake with Jack on the roof was just that, a mistake. Nothing more.

You had thought after all this time Jack must’ve felt the same. He fucked up and kissed his hot, younger resident, just once. He hadn’t meant to and he would be glad it was all over. You had been doing him a favor, you thought.

But when you had allowed yourself to look at him, really look at him tonight, that hadn’t been what you’d seen. In fact, he was angry with you. He had looked at you with such hurt and betrayal as if all this time he had been in love with you.

It didn’t make any fucking sense. You sat in the stairwell and pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes. None of it made any fucking sense.

You should go home.

***

Robby eyed Jack with silent suspicion when he joined him back at the bar and ordered two tequila sodas. He knocked the first one back in one go and then rested his head in his hands on the bar top.

“So it went well, I take it?” Robby asked mildly.

Jack glared at Robby and then looked back at his drink, “She has a boyfriend.”

Robby nodded, “Right. I’m glad we’re on the same page about that, now.”

Jack shook his head and felt the tequila make its way through him, “No, you see, she’s had a boyfriend. Since before she moved to the day shift. The same one.”

Robby was silent for a moment, then, “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jack knocked back his second tequila soda and ordered another.

“Alright, I can see you’re upset, but all the tequila sodas in the world aren’t going to make you feel better.”

“No,” Jack agreed, “But maybe it’ll stop me from thinking about her for just a while.”

Just then, as Robby was trying to subtly get the bartender to cut off Jack, Robby’s phone buzzed with a text from Heather.

What did Abbot say to Y/N? Found her crying in the stairwell. She won’t stop.

He sighed heavily and turned back to Jack, “You made her cry?”

“What?” Jack looked at him incredulously, “No.”

“Heather says she’s sobbing in the stairwell.”

Oh, he hated the way that sent an ache through him. There was a time when he would’ve taken off running to get to you if he had heard that. Maybe even just earlier today. Not now, though.

“Believe me, her eyes were fucking bone dry when I left her.”

Robby’s phone buzzed again.

Never mind. Finally got her to say something coherent. Broke up with her boyfriend over the phone. Nothing to do with Abbot.

Christ. Nothing to do with Abbot. Right, Robby thought and rubbed a hand down his face, somehow he doubted that very much.

Robby looked back at his friend, debating if he should deliver this news to Jack or not. But Jack was very drunk now and he’d probably just tear after you like a man on a mission. Neither of you needed that right now, Robby thought. He’d tell Jack in the morning.

***

Heather and Samira sat on either side of you as you tried and failed to explain everything to them. You were very bad at this. Having work friends. Shen and Ellis had tolerated you, always including you, buying you coffee, but you knew really you were mostly third wheeling. And you hadn’t minded it. You had always tried to draw a firm line between your work and personal life, which is probably why the situation with Jack fucked you up so badly.

Heather started again, “So you and Abbot—“ 

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you switched to the day shift.”

“Yes.”

“And Jack also wanted you moved to the day shift?”

This is where things got murky for you. Tiredly, you rubbed your eyes, “I don’t know what Jack wanted because I never asked.”

“He didn’t know about your boyfriend then, either?”

You shook your head slowly, “I thought the fact that I was his resident was excuse enough. I left because I didn’t trust myself around him and I thought it’d be easier on us both.”

“And today was the first time you’d really spoken in two years?”

“Yes.”

“And this one conversation spurred you to break up with your long term boyfriend on a whim?”

You looked at Heather and smirked, “So you’re getting it now? Why I should be institutionalized?”

Heather and Samira both laughed, but Heather shook her head, “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re finally being honest with yourself about your feelings. Which is really fucking brave.”

“I say we go to the next bar and get very drunk.” Samira said, standing.

“Oh, I— No,” You shook your head, panicking, “What if he’s there?”

“Oh, I hope he is.” Heather laughed and the two of them linked arms with you.

***

Robby walked silently next to Jack as they made their way to the next bar, his hands stuffed in his pockets, “Brother, I really think maybe you should just sleep this one off.”

Jack turned to Robby, “It’s only 10 PM which is roughly 10 AM by my standards. So there will be no sleeping from me for a while. But you, by all means, can go home.”

Robby inhaled slowly through his nose. He was fucking exhausted, but he didn’t trust Jack in this state. And he had seen you go off with Heather and Samira not too long ago, headed in the same direction they were walking in right now.

So he kept walking, eyeing Jack every so often until they got to the bar.

He should have just gone home, probably.

Because once they got to the bar, all hell broke loose.

***

The room was spinning. The text had come in just moments after back to back lemon drop shots and your vision was blurred. You were unsure if it was from tears or the alcohol.

“Hey, what happened?” Samira was shouting in your ear over the din of the bar.

You passed the phone to her wordlessly as you ordered another shot. You needed to be belligerent if you were going to survive this.

Samira’s jaw dropped as she watched the video. She scrubbed back and forth a few times before she handed the phone back to you.

“This is the boyfriend who couldn’t meet you here because of ‘work’?”

You nodded.

“Well, you made the right call then, breaking up with him.”

You laughed humorlessly, and then you were sobbing, “I don’t know… why I care…” You hiccuped, “I don’t think I’ve loved him for a long time.”

Samira sighed, rubbing a hand down your back, “It sounds like you tried really hard to salvage the relationship. Probably feels like a waste of almost three years of your life now,” This renewed your sobs and Samira looked at you with alarm, “I’m not saying I think you wasted three years, I just mean, it probably felt that way— I’m gonna go find Heather, she’s much better at this sort of thing.”

Alone, you ordered a drink and wiped at your cheeks. You knew Jack was next to you before you smelt his cologne and sighed heavily.

“Don’t worry,” He said softly, “I’m just getting a drink and then I’ll go as far away from you as possible.”

You only nodded. The man you had chosen to fight for had stood you up to go to a bar across town and make out with the coworker he swore for months you had nothing to worry about while your best friend unknowingly filmed him from across the room.

The man you were beginning to suspect had been in love with you for close to four years now, you had spent the last two years running away from and now he hated you.

It felt like a big cosmic joke.

You rested your head on your arms and willed him away so you wouldn’t have to confront the long string of bad decisions you’d made that had led you here.

But Jack just couldn’t resist when you looked so miserable, “Are you alright, kid? Hate seeing you like this.”

You pushed your head up and met his eyes. Despite your earlier argument, he was looking at you with tenderness and concern. He meant it, that he cared, you could see it all over him. It made you want to burst into tears again. And maybe that’s why you decided to poke the bear, see how far you could push, what would make him really, truly loathe you? It was what you deserved after all, right?

You turned your head away from him and unlocked your phone, tapping to the video your friend had sent, hitting play and sliding it over the bar top to Jack, “You’ll be happy to know this is what my boyfriend was too busy doing to meet me tonight. Some sort of fucked up karma, I suppose.”

Jack’s face betrayed nothing as he watched the video, but you thought maybe a muscle in his jaw ticked. He slid the phone back to you, “Whatever you think of me, I’m not enjoying this.”

You scoffed and shook your head, looking down at the bar top.

“I’m serious. I would never—“ You hear him sigh in frustration, “Just because I’m hurting doesn’t mean I wish you were hurting, too. If anything, if you were happy, maybe it’d all make more sense to me.”

He tapped his finger on top of your phone case, “That guy’s a fucking idiot. You deserve way better than that.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, carefully avoiding looking at him, “Hey,” He said and crooked a finger under your chin, gently pulling until you met his gaze, “You deserve better, okay?”

You were conscious of the fact that you wanted to kiss him. And you knew he saw the way your eyes drifted dangerously to his mouth. 

“I did the same thing to him.” You said quietly, still staring at his mouth, “Only seems fair.”

Jack released your chin and shook his head, “Don’t compare what we did to… To that.”

He sounded disgusted and it made you want to laugh, “How is it any different?”

“That is just drunken lust.” He leaned towards you on his forearms, “What we did meant something. Maybe not to you, but it did to me.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Did it mean something to you?” He shot back.

His face was very close to yours now, you could smell the tequila on his breath. 

“Tell me,” He said slowly, “Tell me it didn’t mean anything to you and I swear to God, I’ll walk away and you’ll never hear from me again.”

You swallowed, blinking rapidly to clear the watering of your eyes. Of course you couldn’t tell him it meant nothing. You had thought about it nearly every day for two years. 

But you were drunk and a fucking wreck and you didn’t know anything anymore except that you still remembered exactly what Jack Abbot tasted like and that he was looking at you right now like he would get on his knees for you in this crowded bar if you asked.

“I should go.” You whispered softly, broken, and slid from your bar stool.

He let you pass, but then called after you, loudly enough that people around you quieted, “What the fuck are you so scared of?”

You turned back, knowing that your face was flushed from the attention of others, “Goodnight, Dr. Abbot.”

***

“Hey, let her go,” Robby stood in front of Jack who was now trying to exit the bar and follow after you, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m fine,” Jack insisted, and when he looked around Robby, he saw it had started to downpour outside, “She’s drunk and it’s storming out there.”

“Heather will check in with her and make sure she gets home okay.”

Jack looked from the door to Robby a few times before sighing and running a hand through his hair, “Sorry, I just… She really gets under my fucking skin.”

Robby nodded and tried to stifle a yawn, “I noticed.”

Jack sighed, “Go home, Robby, seriously. I’m not gonna do anything stupid. I promise.” He shook his head, “I should probably just go home, too.”

Robby offered a sad smile and clapped him on the shoulder, “It’ll all make more sense in the morning, brother.”

Jack snorted, “Historically, that has never been true for me.”

***

It felt pretty melodramatic to be standing in the park overlooking the river as it poured. It was all very Jane Austen of you, you decided. Except Mr. Darcy would not be showing up to declare his love for you, Mr. Darcy was likely dry and headed home in his UberX.

You didn’t know where home was anymore. Luckily, you hadn’t moved in with your boyfriend yet. It was one of the many things that should have been a red flag, the fact that you hadn’t had a desire to cohabitate with him. You liked when he left in the morning and you liked the nights where he got home too late and went to his own apartment so as not to disturb your rest.

But still, there were traces of him all through your apartment. You didn’t want to be there.

You’re not sure how long you sit in the warm rain before your phone buzzed. You expected Heather or Samira, but were shocked to see Jack’s name on the banner, alerting you to a text.

Jack hadn’t texted you in something like two years.

I know I shouldn’t be texting you, it read, But I just want to be sure you got home safe. Please  text when you’re home.

After staring at your phone for a few minutes, now soaked with the rain, you attempted to dry the screen with the sleeve of your jacket. It worked only slightly, but allowed you to hold down the text and “like” it.

After about thirty seconds, the speech bubble appeared on your phone to indicate he was typing.

Well don’t just fucking like the message. Are you home?

You could lie, you supposed. Probably, you could walk into PTMC and sleep in an empty room upstairs.

But you were growing tired of all the pretending.

no. You replied finally.

His reply was immediate, Where are you? 

in the park.

It’s raining.

excellent observation, dr. abbot.

You stared at the screen as his speech bubble appeared and disappeared, over and over, for a couple minutes.

Send me your location. Then, almost as an afterthought, Please.

This was a bad idea, probably. After the events of today, you should not be sending Jack Abbot your location. You should not be speaking to Jack Abbot at all. After today, you should probably resign from your residency and maybe join a convent.

You watched as seemingly of their own volition, your hands tapped all the right buttons to send Jack a pin.

A few moments later, he texted a screenshot of an Uber being sent to your location with the car information and license plate.

i don’t want to go home. You sent him in a rush.

Yeah, I got that, he replied, The Uber is bringing you to me.

You blew a long breath out between your lips, you sure that’s a good idea?

Nope. Uber’s pulling up now.

Sure enough, headlights lit up the raindrops behind you. You turned to see the car, quickly giving the license plate a cursory once over to make sure it matched what Jack sent. 

You could send the car off. Say it was a mistake. Not get in. Showing up at Jack’s apartment soaked to the skin in the middle of the night, still drunk and emotionally unstable felt like boarding a train you knew would derail. 

You still got in the car, though. You didn’t have anywhere else to go.

***

When Jack opened the door to his apartment, the frigid air from his AC assaulted you and you shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He stepped aside to allow you in and you kicked off your water logged shoes.

You had been here only once before, the first week of your residency. Jack would host a team dinner (early, so you could all still make your shift in time) whenever a new resident was added to the night shift. 

You had been really nervous you recalled, until Jack had cracked a joke that made you choke on your soda.

It had been almost four years, but his apartment hadn’t changed much at all. It was neat and tidy, nothing out of place. The furniture was well taken care of, but everything was in varying shades of gray and blue. The only hints of personality being some pictures on his fridge, vinyls by a stereo, and some books on a shelf.

But one photo on his fridge caught your eye and before you knew what you were doing, you were walking to it.

Early in your second year of residency, you had presented your research on cardiogenic pulmonary edema outcomes in the ER at a conference in New York. Jack had shown up without telling you he was coming. He stayed near your poster all day while you presented to interested passersby, giving you a thumbs up or “solid work” when you needed it, smuggling you snacks, making sure you drank water. And at the end of it you remembered he took you out to dinner and told you how proud he was of you and what a great emergency medicine doctor you would be.

You had taken a picture with him in front of your poster and this was the photo on his fridge. You had a huge smile on your face and Jack had an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“I didn’t know you had this.” You said softly.

He didn’t say anything so you turned to look at him, but his eyes were trained on the photo, “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” He said finally, walking by you to his bedroom.

You watched in his doorway as he pulled a pair of clean sweatpants and a t shirt from his closet and placed them at the edge of his bed, “The shower’s in that room,” He pointed to a door off the bedroom, “There’s clean towels under the sink, use whatever soap you like.”

He started to walk past you, but you grabbed his arm, and he stopped, eyes snagging on the hand that was touching him, “Thank you.” You said softly.

His eyes slowly roved upwards until they met yours. He searched your face, though you weren’t sure what he was looking for, then pressed a kiss to your forehead before he left the room.

***

After you were showered and changed, you wandered out to the living room where Jack sat on the couch, an arm draped over his forehead. He had taken his prosthetic off and it was propped up next to the coffee table.

When he heard you pad into the room, he cracked his eyes open, “Feeling better?” You nodded. “Good. Take the bed, I’ll sleep out here.”

But you still stood there, staring at him, arms wrapped around yourself, “Do you love me?” You asked, voice small.

He stared at you for a moment and sat up, running a hand over his face, “Have I not made it painfully obvious?”

“For how long?”

He shook his head and smiled at you incredulously, “You don’t get to do this.”

“Do what?”

“You’ve been in control of this,” He gestured between the two of you, “From the second I fucking met you and now you’re trying to what, decode the situation? See what outcome is most advantageous? I mean, Jesus Christ, what do you want?”

“What do I want?”

“Yes,” He said, “Not what seems correct, not what seems rational, what is it that you want?”

“I—“ You shook your head, “I don’t– I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” He said firmly, “Do you want your cheating boyfriend?”

You frowned, “No.”

“Did you ever want him?”

You huffed in frustration, “What do you mean?”

“I mean when you chose him over me, was that what you wanted?”

“That’s not a fair characterization of what happened—“

“Was it what you wanted?”

You faltered, “It was what was safest.” You said softly.

He smiled at you sadly, “He couldn’t hurt you if you didn’t love him, right?”

You stared up at the ceiling, willing the tears back into your eyes, “I didn’t think it meant that much to you.”

“You never gave me the chance to tell you.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, “I’ll ask you again, what do you want?”

You looked at him, eyes watering, and you swallowed hard before you moved to him. He watched you as you placed a knee on either side of his legs, straddling his lap. His eyes followed your every movement reverently, your face just above his as you rested your forehead against his. His hands knotted themselves in your hair, “I’m scared,” You breathed shakily into his mouth.

“Of what?” He asked, his mouth near centimeters from yours.

“Of you. Of wanting you too much. Of losing you. Of everything.”

“I can’t promise you that this will work,” He said softly, “But I can promise I’ll fight like hell to make it work.”

You swallowed, “Because you love me?”

Finally, he laughed, “Yes, I fucking love you. Now be quiet.” He said before he kissed you.

He tasted exactly like you remembered, except tonight, there were remnants of tequila on his tongue. It was like he was trying to make up for lost time, the way he kissed you on that couch. He pushed his tongue into your mouth almost immediately, like he was searching for something he’d lost. Already, you were out of breath, hips grinding down on him without realizing. He sucked your lower lip into his mouth and bit down gently, groaning when you rubbed yourself on his growing erection.

“Slow down,” He chastised.

“You started it.” You reminded him.

“Fuck,” He moaned and then pushed you off him so he could crawl over you, “You’re sure?” He asked as you looked up at him, hair fanning around your head on the couch cushion like a halo.

You nodded, “I want you.”

He smirked and lowered his head to yours again, pulling kisses from you as one hand worked its way under your t-shirt. Your skin was smooth and soft there and he inched up slowly, until his fingers just brushed the underside of your breast. Touching you like this, he thought a lot about that night on the roof, the way he had kissed you like he knew he was already out of time.

Now… Now the world seemed to open up. He could take as much time as he wanted. You weren’t going anywhere, not this time. You were his and he wouldn’t let you go so easily again.

Gently, he tugged the t-shirt over your head so he could look at you and he was unable to suppress the sigh that tumbled from his lips. He squeezed your breast with one hand, thumbed your nipple and watched it pebble as you sighed. Still watching you, he pinched your nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger and your eyes rolled back into your head as you writhed beneath him.

He kissed you, fingers still teasingly rolling your nipple between his fingers, and then he began to kiss down your jaw and neck until he was able to suck your nipple into his mouth. The moan that fell from your lips when he swirled his tongue around you went straight to his cock. 

He was overly conscious of the fact that because he had imagined this very moment for two years minimum, likely longer, because he had imagined it hundreds of times while getting himself off, it was likely he would last all of thirty seconds once he was inside you, once he felt the real thing. So he would make this last for you.

Jack shimmied the sweatpants off of you and forgot that because you were here and you had just showered, you weren’t wearing panties. And suddenly, he felt feral. 

“Jesus Christ,” He shook his head looking at you, it felt like maybe he was dreaming a little, having you naked beneath him. He felt almost delirious with it.

You looked up at him, those pupils once again whole saucers, “Touch me, please?” You whined.

He kissed you again, licking into your mouth as he reached a hand down between your thighs. You gasped as he fully sunk a finger into you. When he moved his mouth back down to suck on your other nipple, your back arched and it sent him into another dimension, being able to make you feel like this.

With two of his fingers pumping you slowly and a thumb on your clit, he felt the moment when you climaxed before you cried out, “That’s it, sweetheart,” He said softly, “Look so pretty when you come for me like that.”

As you caught your breath, you watched as he pulled his fingers out of you and then sucked your juices from his digits. “Taste so good, too.”

Your eyes stayed locked on one another as he reached for a wooden bowl on the coffee table. He took the top off, pulled out an aluminum packet, and closed it again. And suddenly you were giggling, “What?” He asked, ripping the package open.

“D’you fuck mad bitches on this couch or something, Jack?”

He rolled his eyes, but smirked, “Shut up.”

When he slid into you, forehead pressed to yours, you gasped at the sensation. You had thought about this countless times before, Jack Abbot above you, like this. What you had never really thought about was that maybe while he did it, he’d be looking at you like he was in love with you. And it nearly shattered you.

“I love you,” You murmured into his mouth as you felt him beginning to come undone, “I love you so much.”

He moaned your name as he finished and collapsed against you, damp and breathless, “You love me, huh?” He said after a moment.

You lightly scratched the back of his head, “I’ve loved you for years,” You said softly, “Just spent a lot of that time denying it.”

He pulled his head back and kissed you messily, your chin grasped firmly in his hand. 

“Better late than never.”

[nanamisdollie]

corruption kink with rin? pls >_<

sweet bf rin corrupting his cute gf⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

smut, mdni. characters aged up!! cw: degrading, corruption, dubcon!!

“keep your legs open. i’m not telling you again.”

rins tone was gruff, his lips grazing your thigh while he held your legs apart. everything had happened so fast; one minute you were telling your sweet quiet boyfriend about your day and the next you were pushed back onto the couch, skirt flipped up and panties around your ankles.

all you had said was it had been a long day and rin was straight to wanting to help you relax however he could.

you learned pretty quickly into your relationship with the soccer star that he was obsessive. he got addicted to things and once he decided he wanted something, he was gonna have it. thats exactly how he was with your cunt.

“mmph- don’t be s-so rough”

“shut up. let me stretch your little hole…gotta prep it before i can use it properly”

your breath is shaky as you sit up partially. you push him back by his forehead making his dark hair fall out of his face, his teal eyes locking with yours.

“m’ not ready yet rin…”

you made it clear you were a virgin a few months into seeing each other. he didn’t have much of a reaction, just shrugged it off and went on with whatever you two had been doing.

when you did begin taking things to another level, he was always soft. he praised you in his own unique way, would press kisses to every part of your skin he could, carefully push a single finger inside of you, eyes never moving from you; like missing just one of your reactions would ruin the whole experience.

lately though? something had changed with him;

hands slipping up your skirt to grab ur asscheeks when you went out together, ‘honey’ swapped out for ‘needy girl’, lingering touches that screamed i need you. maybe it was stress, maybe he was just too pent up, you didnt know but you didnt question it. not when he knew how to circle his thumb over ur twitching clit just right to have you cumming in minutes.

“still? come on, dont act dumb. i know you want it” rin sits up from between your legs, his clothed hips slotting against your bare hips. your cunt fluttered, drooling onto the couch feeling the bulge in his sweats against your skin.

“just want you rinnie~”

that did it.

maybe it was the stupid nickname he hated or that sweet tone of voice you only ever had with him. maybe it was the fact that you wanted him, only him. whatever it was made a flip switch.

“yeah? want me?”

swiftly two cool hands grip the backs of your thighs and press them to your chest. a choked whine was the single reaction you could give before his clothed cock is pushing against your folds. his hips rut into you at an agonizingly slow pace that contradicts the grip of his hands. his tip is pressed flush against the dampening grey fabric stopping him from using you properly, barely pushing into your tight unused cunt.

“youve got me now dummy-“ wet lips press to your temple “-you feel that? gonna fuck it into you raw next time, hows that sound?”

your brains barely functioning, too much at once but its so damn good. high pitched whimpers with every roll of rins hips, tongue lolling from parted lips. maybe you did need his cock…

“huh- you need it? fuckin’ knew it”

shit. you said that out loud? were you that fucked out from just this? was just the feeling of your sweet boyfriends mushroom tip violating your hungry cunt enough to have you babbling out your own thoughts?

“yesyesyes- fuck! need it, need you!” drool falls from the corner of your mouth as he attempts to bend you further in half, one of his hands grabbing your skirt and pushing it up so he can get a better view of the mess you were making

dark hair falls into your vision while his hips begin to work harder to get both of you off. rins breathing consists of strained whines and huffs, his eyes still locked on where the two of you meet.

“gonna ruin you- fuckk- wanna make it..make it so no guy can ever use this pussy- ngh- besides me. all fuckin’ mine“

the warmth in ur lower stomach is building with every word he throws out. you dont care if theyre icky, you dont care if theyre mean, you get it now. you want him to ruin you.

“pleasepleaseplease!” you huff out a whimper “m’ all y-yours, ruin me- mmph- please rinnie!”

his hips stutter with a choked sob. then you feel it; something sticky seeping through the fabric that had been humping into you. rins head falls into your shoulder while he catches his breath, mumbling incoherent words against your skin. when he finally sits up and sees the finished mess on not only his pants but your lips he is lowering himself back between your aching thighs to get a taste.

“did it get inside…?” you sound worried as you question him, bottom lip pushed out in a pout

“gonna have to check” his thumbs push your folds apart, getting a good look at your pulsing hole. he presses a gentle kiss to your clit followed by another kiss to your cunt “don’t worry; ill clean you up if any did…cant have you getting knocked up before ive even fucked you properly”

tysm for requesting ^.^ i heart rin so much ohmygod. i never have thought about him being into corruption so i hope i did it some justice!!

[bernardsbendystraws]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ be real ─ m.s.

summary ʚɞ you and matt have been dating for barely a month. things have been really good, but things get a bit tense when matt calls you out on faking it...

cw ʚɞ smut, fluff, faking it, trouble finishing, use of toys, embarassaing convo, desperate needy sex, p n v, raw, creampie, praise kink, begging (both), and more

pairing ʚɞ matt sturniolo x reader

notes ʚɞ copyright notice. wc 2000+. lol this may or may not be based of true circumstances...

ʚ with love and big tits, rose ɞ → nav

“Listen, I know you’ve been faking it.” 

His confrontational words immediately made your heart drop to your stomach. Although they were said in a neutral tone with a sympathetic face, you couldn’t help but let your teeth sink into your bottom lip, your fingers pinching the material of your sweatshirt while your eyes stayed glued down to your lap. 

You couldn’t look at him even if you wanted to. Shame and embarrassment made your face blister with an uncomfortable heat, your eyes blinking rapidly as you heard him speak. 

“I…I know this is kinda awkward-” 

You huff at his statement. This was a lot more than kinda awkward—it was the type of embarrassment that made you wanna walk out the door and never see him again. You were debating letting the short time of building your relationship fall down the drain in order to keep your pride intact. 

Faking an orgasm wasn’t a new thing for you, you’ve always done it in every single relationship. It’s not necessarily the other person's fault either. You had…well, tried—really, really hard. You had even kept a sex journal to track your progress in reaching the big ‘O’ – and you did hit it at some point, but not much progress was truly made.

“-but I want you to tell me how I can help, you know? I can’t…I can’t just read your body or anything if you’re faking stuff. I—I don’t want this to be a long-run issue, I want you to feel good, I…I wanna talk about it.” 

His words make your lips twist to the side, your face scrunching in humiliation as you try to pull your gaze up to meet his. 

The second you see the outline of his lips, your eyes fall back down, burning with shame as your vision gets blurry. Blinking back ferociously, you cringe watching a tear fall into your lap, a loud sniffle making your spine run stiff. 

“Hey, hey,” Matt coos, reaching out and petting your arm in an attempt to provide some sort of comfort. “-I just wanna talk so we can make it better, okay? I’m not trying to be mean or anything, just…just want you to feel good too.” 

You nod at his words. Taking a deep sigh, you force yourself to look up—the sight of his puzzled expression making your heart clench in your chest. 

“Well,” you start, licking over your lips as your eyes wander around his living room, “-it’s just…I don’t…there’s…” you sigh in frustration, the explanation jumbled and sounding as clueless as you feel. 

Matt’s hand slides down to your knee. He gives you a reassuring squeeze, offering a small smile as encouragement. 

“It’s just…it’s not….it’s not you. I just…can’t.” 

The blunt statement makes a frown tug on his face. Your boyfriend of barely a month slouches in his seat on the couch ottoman directly in front of you, his eyes flickering across your features as he takes a minute to digest the statement. 

“You…you can’t?” he repeats, his face scrunching more as you give an affirmative nod. “-like, you’ve just…never?” he questions, his head tilting towards the side as he sees you shrug.

“I, um, well—I have, just…” your eyes squint shut, your scalp itching as you try to focus on the conversation at hand, “-I can’t without a…a vibrator? Like…it’s just…it’s always been that way. No matter what I do, no matter what I try—-” 

“So you need a vibrator in order to finish?” he remarks, genuine curiosity leaking from his tone. 

Your toes crack, your feet shifting anxiously on the ground as you give a slight nod. This is embarrassing—fucking humiliating. You’re basically telling him there is no way he can fix it—there’s no way that he’ll ever be enough—and you know that probably sucks to hear. 

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t even know. I’ve tried, I just…I can’t without one. It’s not you or—”

“Hey,” he laughs, cutting off your rambled apology while squeezing your knee once again. “-it doesn’t offend me or anything. I wanted to be able to fix it and you gave me a clear solution. If anything….” he wiggles his bros, licking over his lips, “-’m excited, baby.” 

You roll your eyes at his antics, biting back a smile from his boyish behavior. It’s like some sort of weight has been lifted off of you—something that felt so worrisome turning into something else—something that makes you want to get closer to him. 

“So….what kind of vibrator does my girlfriend like?” 

___

You wish you could smack that stupid grin off his face. He’s really having fun—his hand lightly placing the light trembling object a couple inches away from your sensitive bud—the sensations echoing just enough to give you a taste of bliss. 

“Matt…” you whine, tugging on his hair and scowling. He has the audacity to let out a slight laugh, his hand moving the vibrator around your clit as he watches you squirm. 

A whimper falls through your lips. Your back arches off the mattress of his bed, the motion making the small bullet glide onto your clit as you let out a broken moan. 

“Yeah? Feels good, baby?” he tuts, biting hungrily on his lip as he watches you writhe beneath him. 

It’s a fucking sight. Your legs are spread for him, your knees locking around his waist as he lets his hard cock rest against your quivering thigh. 

He presses the device more firmly against your sensitivity, watching as your eyes bulge open, your lips parting as a sinful noise erupts from the back of your throat. 

Your knees lock on either side of his hips. He hisses as you instinctively pull him closer, the movement making his throbbing dick slide against your inner leg. 

The build-up is happening. He can tell by the way your legs tense and shake that you will finish eventually. Matt has been dreaming of this moment—dreaming of seeing you so consumed by pleasure that you completely let go for him.

“Shit, sweetheart—look at that,” he coos, staring between your bodies to look at your plump and swollen clit. Letting his fingers glide the toy between your wet folds, he gathers the slick leaking from your entrance before pushing the device up again, pushing it against your puffy bud. 

“Oh, fuck! Matt!” you cry, your hands clawing into his shoulders as you feel yourself clench around nothing. “-need…need you inside me—please, need it so—so bad,” you breathe, your body craving to be filled and fucked more than anything.

“I…fuck, okay—give me a second,” he husks, lifting his hips just enough to align his tip with your pulsating hole, easily slipping in with both his hands still preoccupied—one holding him up, the other holding the toy. 

“Shitttttt, there we go,” he rasps, hissing as he feels your walls tighten around him as he starts to bottom out. The stretch is usually a bit uncomfortable, but right now it feels like you’re satisfying a painfully apparent craving. 

You yelp as he grinds himself into you. Matt groans loudly, his cock twitching inside of you while your chest arches into his. “Oh—oh god!” you cry, his pelvis making the vibrator flush against your overly sensitive clit, your entire body starting to tense as he starts to thrust in and out of your slippery heat. 

“Fuck—’m…” Matt bites into his lip, trying to distract himself from how good you feel wrapped around him. 

Honestly, the sight alone was already making him struggle to hold back from cumming by rubbing up against your thigh. This is intense. He’s trying to create a steady rhythm, but every time you convulse around his length, he feels his balls draw up, his gut tightening as he attempts to keep his hips driving into you. 

“Please…please tell me you’re close, baby—baby, please,” he sputters, his groans undeniably getting louder in a way that makes your entire body echo with euphoria. He sounds so desperate for you to finish—so intoxicated by everything that he needs you to cum before he breaks entirely. 

“I—-I—” you stumble over your words, the thoughts inside your head too far pushed into the back of your mind as he gives you everything he has—hammering his cock deep inside of your pulsating walls with desperation falling through his lips with noises that make you feel like you’re on fire. 

“C’mon,” he coos, his hand shaking as he holds the vibrator, gliding it against your swollen bud as your feet push off the bed, pushing your pelvis into his as everything becomes intoxicatingly overwhelming. “-cum for me, you got it—please, baby—I—I need it, please.” 

Your body turns rigid, the waves of euphoria pummeling down on you with a hot bliss that makes a brutal noise rip from the back of your throat. 

Matt lets out a loud whimper. The feeling of your wet walls nearly suffocating his dick and making it impossible for him to hold back. 

The waves of your orgasm are crashing hard, the vicious pleasure making your mind run on pure instinct as you lock your legs around him. 

“Gonna cum—where—where d–do—”

You dig your ankles further into his back, a sob leaving your lips from the ruthless vibrations from the vibrator still planted on your clit. “Inside…please, Matt. I—I want it,” you hiccup, screeching as he fucks himself somehow deeper inside of you, making your entire body tremble as his hips flex, stilling with his pelvis flush against your own. 

“Fuckkkkkkk, gon—gonna cum—’s…so–so good, baby—did so good for me,” he breathes, moaning as he feels you milk him. 

The vein on his neck protrudes, his hand holding himself up grasping gently into your hair, his elbow propped upwards as he leaves a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss onto your neck. 

The vibrations on your pulsing bud pause. Matt tosses the small bullet on the side of the bed, unmoving with his cock slowly softening inside of you. 

You feel him panting against your neck, your own chest rapidly rising and falling as he lifts his head up to look at you. “You okay?” he questions, analyzing your face as you nod breathlessly. 

He combs his hand through your hair, letting out a dry laugh as he notices you starting to doze off. “Here, lemme clean us up and then we can go to bed.” 

Slowly pulling out, he cringes as you wince. He presses a kiss to the side of your cheek, getting up and grabbing a damp washcloth from his bathroom. 

Matt lets out a huff as he notices you struggling to stay awake. He gently nudges your legs open, swallowing thickly as he sees his cum dripping out of you. 

Well—your mixed cum. 

He smiles proudly as he brings the semi-warm cloth downwards, tentatively cleaning you. He tosses it to the side carelessly, kissing your knees before lowering your legs back down to rest comfortably on his bed. 

Peeking your eyes open, you smile sleepily. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Matt grins wider. He plops down on the bed next to you, pulling you onto his chest and tugging a blanket over the two of you. “Because, I feel like I just won the fuckin’ lottery.” he answers. 

A lazy giggle vibrates through your lips. “Matt, you’re ridiculous,” you puff, smacking his chest playfully as your lips curl with a soft smile. 

Grabbing your hand in his own, he pulls it up to his mouth, kissing along your knuckles. “-’m serious. I think I just discovered my biggest kink.” 

Your brows furrow. Looking up, you let your chin rest on his chest, your eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Oh? And what’s that?” 

He grins at your interrogation. “My biggest kink is you feeling good—you being real with me.” he says. 

You blush at his words. Your nose scrunches with endearment, your eyes squinting as a smile pulls on your face. “You’re such a dork,” you tease. 

“Nuh-uh,” he puffs, pulling you in closer. You feel his lips on the crown of your head, a gentle kiss making you sink further into his hold. “-just being real.”

[anglbunny]

TOUCH UP

♡. dyeing their hair while sitting on their lap w/otoya and shidou... VERY suggestive mdni, hair dyeing, sitting on their lap, based on this req

OTOYA EITA

“You’re hard,” you whisper, frozen, brush mid-stroke over his stupid little green strand.

Otoya shrugs beneath you, shameless. He’s lounging back in the chair, long legs spread, hands resting on your hips as if you’re his personal armrest. The bulge under you is unmistakable—thick, hot, twitching against your core through thin layers of clothes.

“Yeah,” he says, cool as ever. “I have this gorgeous girl straddling me and playing with my hair. What did you expect?”

You shoot him a look. “I’m dyeing your hair. This isn’t supposed to be—”

“Hot?” he cuts in, smirking as his hands flex, rocking your hips just enough to make you gasp. “Sorry, baby, but you’re sittin’ on my lap, wearing those little shorts, touching me all gentle like that… You have to know what you’re doing.”

“I’m literally just trying to fix your roots.”

“Mhm,” he hums, dragging one palm up your spine, slow and heavy. “And you’re grinding on me just a little each time you lean forward. You sure you’re trying to fix me?”

You try to focus—really, you do—but his cock presses up against your heat every time he breathes and your thighs are shaking. He leans forward, lips brushing your collarbone.

“Go on,” he murmurs. “Keep going. Pretend I’m not rock hard. Pretend you’re not soaking through your panties.”

You shudder.

He grins.

"Or," he whispers, hand sliding under your shirt, "you could use me instead. Grind on it. Take what you want. You’re already in the perfect position, pretty thing."

You shouldn’t.

You really shouldn’t.

But the dye dries half-finished.

And his lap is soaked by the end of it.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

“Don’t move,” you scold, fingers combing through Shidou’s blond hair as you section off another piece to retouch his tips. You’re straddling his lap, thighs caging him in, towel slung across his shoulders, gloves smudged with dye.

He hums lazily beneath you, but there’s nothing innocent about the way his hands grip your hips. Not when his thumbs slide under your waistband. Not when he’s been hard since the second you climbed into his lap.

“This is torture, y’know,” he says, smirking up at you through hooded eyes. “You sittin’ all pretty on me… makin’ those little concentration faces while your thighs squeeze around me?”

“You asked me to fix your hair,” you mutter, ignoring how hot your face is.

He grins, unbothered. “I didn’t think you’d do it in those tiny ass shorts. But I’m not complaining.”

You start applying the dye again but his fingers are already creeping up the backs of your thighs, squeezing the soft skin, shifting you just slightly against the bulge in his sweatpants.

“You’re unbelievable,” you breathe, glaring.

Shidou’s voice drops, wicked and low: “You’re on my dick, telling me I’m the problem?”

You go still—his cock pressing right against the seam of your underwear, thick and twitching. You feel everything. And he knows it.

He tilts his head, mocking sweet. “C’mon, baby. Rub against it a little. ‘S not like I’ll stop you.”

“You’re disgusting,” you whisper, thighs clenching.

He grins wider, tongue running across his teeth. “And you’re wet. Wanna see if you can dye my hair with how messy you’ll get if I move just right?”

You shove a palm against his forehead. “Shut up so I can finish.”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “c'mon, move a little, just a tiny bit, princess, grind down on it and I’ll give you a prize.”

“What prize?”

He laughs, filthy and breathless. “Me. With my mouth. On my knees. Worshipping every inch of you for being such a good girl.”

You don’t finish the tips.

You finish first.

TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @mihyas-dieehefrau @ravenbc @greekyoghurtwithberries

A/n: for my pretty girl, im sorry i did this so late

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[minkieater]

yknow what ,,, who in atz makes love vs fucks ,, i am tinking abt it

FUCK THIS IS HARD. controversial take on atz tbh i cant believe mingi is where he is i want him to be a freak so bad but i must separate mental mingi and real mingi

FUCKS: freak bitches

1. hongjoong

hj is a possessive demon freak you can see it in his eyes fr. there isn’t a day that will pass without you getting split in two, he’s not just a freak but he has stamina and he’d rather do literally anything else but sleep, so what better way to pass the time when his brain is fried from making music than to fuck your brains out???? you love his libido and his ability to never turn it off, i don’t think his dick ever softens tbh not really. especially not when you’re talking to another man, that possessiveness really comes into play, it doesn’t matter who it is from your coworker to your friend he’s taking you to the next secluded spot and reminding you who the fuck you belong to. maybe toxic, but that’s hj, and when he’s done blowing your back out you’re reminded every single time that you don’t need anyone else but him (and you like it that way) (he’s my soulmate in the astral realm btw)

2. jongho

he’s a dominant freak and its so fucking sexy. his dominance slips into every aspect of your life, what you wear, what you do, who you talk to, what you eat, never in a toxic way, but in a way that he’s taking care of you, looking out for you, keeping you safe. he loves a good game of cat and mouse, loves when there’s a lil brattiness he has to tame, to assert his dominance all over again— there’s been several nights where you haven’t finished once because you disobeyed him, tears streaming down your cheeks with your legs shaking because you were so fucking close and he ripped it away last second, he knows every inch of your body like the back of his hand, he knows what you’re thinking half the time just by the look on your face. he’s got boxes of toys set aside, ropes and handcuffs and spreader bars, either for torture or your pleasure depends on your behavior (jongho ill be so good for you pls) and he is NOT afraid to use em. god hes so in tune with you and your body and his OWN his control is so fucking crazy i think i could keep going and actually talk about this for hours

3. wooyoung

he’s a fun freak!!!! giggly and experimental he wants you in every position he can think up, he’s creating his OWN positions when he runs out of ideas. he’s fucking you in public, in a dressing room, fingers slipping inside you under the table, a cocky little smirk on his face when you accidentally let a moan slip UGH he’s the type to not be weirded out by anything like if you find some weird shit on the internet and wanna try it out he’s 100% down. he’ll try anything once. you want to tap into omegaverse shit??? he’s barking for you and still fucking into you like its the first time. you wanna get into pee??? cum eating??? bondage??? cuckolding?? it literally doesn’t matter. he’s down and he’s researching and he’s educating YOU. he needs an experimental partner too tho cus his ideas are just as fucking crazy and he is NOT shy about sharing them with you. sex is fun with him, never boring, never stale, he keeps you on your toes just as much as you keep him on his, you’ve spent legit weekends in the bedroom because you tried something new and neither of you can get enough. toys, vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, cockrings, Strap Ons, you have them all, wooyoung is a yes man and no one can tell me differently. with a shrug and a smile on his face EVERY TIME he’s like yeah sure why not Omg and if there’s something that doesn’t work he’s like ok whatever and then just goes back to normal. sex is so chill and so fun and so experimental and there’s never any pressure FUCK wooyoung i fucking love you i got carried away

MAKES LOVE: sweet angels

1. yeosang

guys im sorry he’s here. i do think yeosang is versatile but not often enough to classify him in the middle, if you catch him on a day where is patience is thin he might be using his biceps to cut off your air flow while he’s fucking into you from behind, but on the day to day, he’s kissing every inch of your body, hands in your hair, petting your skin, cupping your cheeks, whispering sweet words, praises, everything is so fucking sweet it usually ends up with you in tears from the emotion passing back and forth between you. yeosang takes care of you in every way, there’s never a time where you finish unsatisfied, he makes sure of it. if you aren’t whining with tears streaming down your cheeks he isn’t done yet, he has stamina and he could fuck you for hours, even besides fucking he’s eating it for hours if thats the vibe. yeosang i want you so fucking bad

2. mingi

man :/

he’s a whiner. he’s sloppy and messy and so fucking virgin even after you’ve been fucking for years, every time is like the first time with mingi. while his hands grow more confident and his body has more stamina, he’s still fucking into you like it’s new, eyes screwed shut and staggered breaths leaving his chest because it’s inconceivable that you feel so fucking good— that’s something he’ll never get used to i fear, how you wrap around him so perfectly, how you’re so warm and wet it’s fucking war to not bust in you within three strokes. he doesn’t tho, he has pretty good control, up until you’re the one whining with tears slipping down your cheeks and he’s losing his fucking shit. elbows pressed into the mattress beside your head, tongue slipping into your mouth with no real rhythm, his cock rutting into you while barely pulling out, he’s addicted to your warmth, the feeling of being inside, the closeness, and god when he fills you up it just spurs him on farther. he’s not stopping until there’s three loads inside you with barely any reprieve between sessions, he’s spilling into you and fucking himself through the overstimulating, crying and whining and praising you because he loves you. im so fuckinf insane im an animal i fucking love this man i would die for him

3. san

this one should not be a surprise tbh san is a caregiver, the way he fucks is spiritual, its all consuming, its heavy and emotional and passionate and everything. you guys probably aren’t into anything hella freaky, farthest is probably a quickie in a dressing room every now and then, but most of the time he’s taking his time with you, stripping you of each scrap of fabric on your body with dainty hands and warm kisses, licking up your skin as if it was candy, telling you how you taste. he’s fucking into you with skilled precision, the movements of a man who’s taken the time to learn every inch of you, what makes you feel good. he’s big into breeding and he’s filling you up every time he def has a vasectomy. would never want u on any birth control because god forbid u change something about yourself for him!!! i feel like san is mad traditional in every way his fav position is probably missionary so he could see your face while he fucks you, holding your hands, kissing your lips that had long gone unresponsive against his own.

SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE: both ways

1. yunho

hahahahahahahahahahahahahha this fucking freak bitch you know exactly what im gonna say. similar to jongho in the sense that he’s controlling many aspects of your life just because he can, he thinks its hot, and so do you. if you disobey him/make him feel disrespected he’s fucking you into next week, and he’s cruel about it, he’s not letting you cum, he’s holding your hands behind your back with one of his own just so you can’t touch him. he’s degrading you, vile words flying off his lips that make you clench tighter around him, he’s pinching your nipples until you’re crying. yunho dom agenda is so real. but he’s not like that all the time, you have your nights where you’re lost in kisses and sweet words and slow strokes, he fucks three loads into you because he wants to get you pregnant, would probably start trying to make you a mother a year into your relationship. if even that long tbh. yunho is mad versatile and he checks off every single box jeong yunho can i please have your phone number

2. seonghwa

😛 I WANT HIM SO BAD this freak bitch i still think he loves voyeurism and cuckolding and shares u. that blurb lives within me. i also think he is mad freaky like wooyoung, nothing puts him off, everything is hot and he wants to explore your sex life as much as he can, if something doesn’t work he’s like whatever we just wont do it again. prolly an ass eater on the regular. super flexible too he’s probably fucking into you from crazy angles like you’re both pretzels LMFAO fuck hes so hot i think seonghwa can do anything at any time. he’s another that loves to fuck you slow, but in a torturous way, like only fucking you with the tip until youre a crying mess begging for more. he definitely gets off on your whines, laughing in your face above you, but when he finally gives you what you want it’s shattering you. deep, heavy strokes, each one has his pelvis hitting yours, all while he’s kissing you sweetly and telling you how good you are for him. seonghwa freakbitch truther!

[gloomwitchwrites]

Okay this is so specific but I remember my mom telling me about this one time when we were getting our house renovated, and she found out that one of the workers was secretly sleeping in our home without consent. Obviously my mom freaked out and confronted him, and the guy started calling my mom every name in the book. She said my dad whipped around the corner so fast with me as an infant in his arms, talking about some “what the fuck did you just say to my wife?”

It’s SO 141-coded I think 😭 some asshole is rude to the missus or, God forbid, one of his children?! Papa Bear comes out. Has no problem bitch-slapping someone with his littlest baby cradled in his other arm.

All of this to say I think it’d be cool if you wrote something similar 🫶 Angry and protective 141 is so so so delicious to me

Oh hello mutual. Firstly, that's fucking crazy. But also, the transition into asking for protective dad!141 is perfection. They're defending their wife all while holding their infant child? Say less @frudoo! SAY LESS!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (mdni): swearing, dad!141, protective!141

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

Like a dark beacon, John appears from around the corner. In his arm is a snoozing infant. She sleeps soundly; face pressed into his chest as he cradles her close to him.

“You’re supposed to be putting her down for her nap,” you say quickly as he starts walking toward you.

“I was,” he replies. John’s gaze slowly slides to the handyman in front of you. “Then I heard a raised voice.” As John approaches, his gaze narrows, a deadly bite in his eye that you’ve only ever seen when he’s truly upset.

“Just a minor disagreement,” you reassure.

“A minor disagreement?” he questions. John isn’t looking at you. He’s staring down the man in front of him. He shifts forward, partially blocking your view of the guy. “Why did you raise your voice at my wife?”

There is coldness in each word. A silent threat.

The man coughs. “I—I want—"

“Here’s the deal, mate.” John places his fingertips on the man’s chest, staring him in the face. “You apologize to my wife. And then you leave, yeah?”

The man opens his mouth and then thinks better of it.

John doesn’t smile. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“What’s this?”

Johnny appears from around the corner, striding into the living room from the kitchen. In one arm, he cradles your infant daughter. She slumbers, mouth open, head turned into his chest. He has a smile plastered on his face, but you can tell it’s forced. There is no pleasantness in that grin. He’s out for blood.

It takes Johnny all but a few strides before he’s standing between you and the handyman. The plumbing is shot, and the worker that was sent is grumpy and rude. He’s been gruff and overbearing.

“We were—”

Johnny cuts him off. “I know what you were doing. Wanna repeat what you said to my wife?” He’s still smiling, skin stretching as it widens. You step up to him, grasping his upper arm.

“Johnny,” you hiss. He ignores you.

The handyman does, and Johnny shakes his head. “Tone, too.”

The handyman remains silent, all the color from his face draining as he realizes his mistake.

Johnny nods in understanding. “Think it’s time to leave. Walk you to the door.” He clasps the man’s shoulder, fingers digging in as he escorts him out. The front door shuts. “I’m calling for a new plumber.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

A large shadow descends, blanketing the red-faced man before you. His narrowed, angry eyes turn toward the interloper and promptly widen. Whatever he intends to say next melts away in the presence of your husband. Simon is a looming figure. Imposing, even with your newborn infant daughter cradled in his big arm, sleeping softly as if nothing is the matter, and this pathetic excuse of a man didn’t just call you a slur.

“What the fuck did you say to my wife?” murmurs Simon, his voice cold and low.

There are only a few instances when you’ve heard Simon use this tone. You can count them on one hand.

“I—” he stammers, face growing redder. “She—”

“Careful,” growls Simon. “One wrong word and I’ll shove my fist so far up your arse it’ll come out your bloody throat.”

“With your kid in your arms?” the man splutters, spittle flying.

Simon leans in like he’s about to divulge a secret. “Won’t even wake her.”

It’s all bluster, and he quickly departs, removing himself promptly from the situation before anything escalates.

“Would you really?” you ask Simon once the man disappears.

“No,” replies Simon slowly. “But he didn’t know that.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It’s a familiar hand on your shoulder that stills your next retort. Warm and comforting and soothing in its pressure and reassurance. A signal to surrender, to allow your husband to take charge in this situation. You’ll happily allow it. With your blood pressure rising rapidly, you’re close to snapping and saying something you don’t mean. The man in front of you might be an asshole, but you’re not looking to make things worse.

Kyle gently guides you back, to stand behind him as he takes control. There are few instances where you’ve seen Kyle truly upset, but from the glint in his eye, you can tell he’s furious. For now, it’s suppressed, but one wrong move might send him swinging.

With your infant daughter cradled in one arm, Kyle addresses the man before him. “What did you say to my wife?”

The man visibly swallows. “Nothing.” He coughs. “Sir.”

Kyle inclines his head. “Thought so, mate.” His gaze narrows. “If you need anything you speak to me. Got it?”

The man nods. Kyle turns to you, softness returning to his features. Shifting the infant, Kyle presents her to you. “How bout you put her down? I’ll handle this prick.”

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Simon Riley making you masturbate in front of him so he can know exactly how you like it done (nsfw)

You're all spread out on the bed, legs open wide, hands on your pretty pussy. And he's just sitting there in front of you, watching attentively as your fingers move over your cunt.

Occasionally, he'll palm his cock through his pants. He'd get off, but he wants to fuck you after you're done, and he wants to be as hard as possible for it.

He watches you, his mouth just about drooling. His eyes are stuck on your cunt, the way your fingers slide in and out, while the fingers from your other hand take care of your clit.

He ends up lying down, head on one of your thighs as he presses little kisses to the skin there. “Keep going, baby. Pussy's so pretty, can't wait to fuck her...”

---

Taglist

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*if you wanna be added to my Ghost taglist, lmk ❤️

---

Blog masterlist

[seungisms]

( skz headcanons ) virgin!skz

🖇️📂 some bitchless skz headcanons 

genre: smut, minors dni, warnings: unprotected sex, virginity loss, dryhumping, oral (female receiving), teasing, putting cocky!minho in his place 🗣️ note: y’all already know i’m gonna have to make a series out of this 🤤 so please keep a look out for that! in the meantime enjoy these filthy little headcanons i had gathering dust in my drafts

방찬. BANG CHAN

virgin!chan who can’t stop thinking about fucking you. he’s a little bit of a perv - he lets you walk up the stairs in front of him so he can steal a glance of what you’re hiding underneath your pretty little skirt, makes dirty jokes around you just so he can see that cute flustered look you get not being able to meet his eyes, fists his cock at night with your name dangling from his lips. sometimes he can’t keep his filthy thoughts at bay, especially when you’re bending over in front of him, skirt riding up and giving him a nice view of your cute ass that he wished he could part to sandwich his cock between. he swears you do it on purpose to get a reaction out of him. when you finally let him between your legs he’s so eager. it’s pathetic the way he’s so desperate to please you, how he fights off the almost painful need to cum just so he doesn’t disappoint your little pussy so early on, especially not when he’s finally got the chance to fuck you. he can’t keep his mouth shut either, asking you every few seconds if you like it or if he’s doing okay - tearing up and slurring over his words the closer he is. he’s so thankful, little thankyou’s spilling out past his lips as he drills deeper into your pussy, arms trembling on either side of your head and before he knows it he’s cumming, hard. spilling out past your folds and onto the bed, pretty and creamy and he almost wonders how he’s went so long without the sight. 

리노. LEE MINHO

virgin!minho who acts so confident and cocky until he’s inside you, and suddenly he doesn’t know where to put his hands or what to say. minho will never outright admit that he’s a virgin, he has too much pride for that, but you’ll find out the second you get him between your legs. you were so sure he fucks, but with the way he looks up at you so unsure over your mound, eyes silently begging for guidance as he strokes and thumbs at your cunt with long fingers, fumbling nervously over your clit - it was clear he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. he’s a little awkward, stutters over his words a lot when he tries to dirty talk you, breath hitching and an uncharacteristic whimper falling off his lips when his fingers slip into your cunt and he feels how tight you are, just imagining how it’ll feel when it’s his dick being suffocated by the warm plush walls of your pussy instead. he gasps and groans and whines when he finally nudges his cock inside of you, stilling his hips when he’s only a few inches deep to catch his breath, holding onto your hips with shaky hands and a wild look in his pretty brown eyes, panting beneath you like a bitch in heat cause just cause he doesn’t wanna cum so soon but you’re making it so hard for him :( it’s cute the way he can’t seem to live up to his name, the cold, almost bad-boy like reputation he’s had all this time suddenly out the window with one taste of pussy and instead replaced with a whimpering, tearful mess just begging to lose himself in the heat of your cunt, begging you to take his virginity.

창빈. SEO CHANGBIN

virgin!changbin who’s a fast learner. show him where to touch, tell him what to say, how deep to go, how fast or slow - he’ll listen, acting like he’s done it his whole life. all those nights spent thinking about stretching and tiring out your cute cunt couldn’t prepare him for the real thing. he gets hard at the most inconvenient times and he hates the way his cock jumps in excitement when you notice with a sweet giggle, only to end up mocking him for being such a virgin. he wishes he could shove his dick between your lips to finally shut you the fuck up, make you apologise on his cock for ever thinking about making a joke out of him, force you to moan and cry his name and admit he’s the best you’ve ever had, how he could leave you to get fucked by 100 men and the little virgin you love to mock would still be the one you run back to. but he just walks home and kicks stones and resorts to fucking his own fist, spewing vile cruses underneath his breath that should’ve been tainting your ears instead as he fucks you to tears. the first time he eats you out you almost think he’s enjoying it more than you - groaning and slobbering messily into your cunt, nudging your sensitive nub with the tip of nose everytime he lays a fat swipe of tongue against your clit, humping into the bed when he hears your little gasps. as soon as he loses his virginity he’s just eager for more, looking at you with a pathetic desperation glinting in his eyes, wondering when the next time you’ll let him play with your pussy will be. 

현진. HWANG HYUNJIN

virgin!hyunjin who’s mouth dries up everytime you’re near him. he’s normally so confident and talkative, can’t seem to stfu most days but as soon as you come around he’s gone quiet - eyes too busy following the hemline of your cute skirt to entertain the conversation happening around him, wondering what colour panties you’re wearing or even if you’re wearing any at all - and just the thought of your bare pussy being inches away from him has his cock swollen and twitching in need to find out. hyunjin is so nervous around you and it shows - hands sweaty and adams apple bobbing in his throat when you make brief eye contact - wondering if you can read his mind and find out all the disgusting dirty things he wants to do to you, if you can sense just how badly he wants to ruin your cunt for every other man to come until it’s just him you think about. him. him. him. he’s almost embarrassed about the effect you have on him, but he can’t find it in himself to care when you finally let him fuck you. he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands, trembling and hovering over your hips like he’s afraid to touch, as if his cock wasn’t making a mess out of your pussy in the meantime. he gets a tad pathetic the closer he is to cumming, thick cock stretching you open like no one has ever done before and small pleas falling from his pretty lips in rushed nonsense and gasped whimpers - “please just cum, m’so close. tell me you’re close too please” little sighs of “can’t believe you’re actually letting me fuck you, thankyouthankyouthankyou” he just wants to be good for you!!

한. HAN JISUNG

virgin!jisung who’s so easy to manipulate. he’ll let you do anything to him as long as he ends up in your pretty pussy by the end of it. slap him around a little, call him names, mock him for being a virgin, tell him where to kiss, go slower, go deeper or harder - and he’ll be in near tears before he’s even inside you. eats you out like a man starved, drool and spit and arousal dripping down his chin as he locks his jaw around your clit, sucking and nipping at your folds until you’re bucking like a wild animal against his face. makes you cum from his greediness alone, he’s a tad sloppy and makes a completely mess out of your cunt, not the most skilled but eager enough to make up for it. constantly thanks you over and over for finally letting him fuck you, all sloppy and teary eyed and getting so fucking pussy drunk that he can’t even register your whimpers of, “s’too much jisung, slow down,” cause this man fucks like a rabbit, no matter if he’s a virgin or not. literally can only focus solely on the sight of your pussy stretching out around his cock and no wet dream or filthy image his mind ever managed to conjure up about you could compare. he also defiantly nuts real quick and gets embarrassed about it, spilling into your cunt before he even realises it and he’s apologising over and over with cute tears lining his eyes - swearing he’ll fuck you better next time if you would only give him the chance.

필릭스. LEE FELIX

virgin!felix who’s super awkward. he can’t really look you in the eyes without being ashamed of himself and his nasty thoughts, his hands tremble when you makeout, he can’t help but whimper a little when you poke fun at him for still being a virgin. he never really tells you what he wants, just tugging at the hemline of your skirt and looking up at you with a greedy glint in his pretty eyes - wanting nothing more than to dip his fingers under and play with your pussy a little - he’s just too shy to ask. and all he really asks you to do is grind on it, torturing himself everytime you work his swollen cock between your folds - cause in his mind the longer he can go without actually fucking you the lower the chance of disappointing you is. but he doesn’t last for long, basically gets on his hands and knees and begs you for a taste of your pussy that you’re more than willing to give. he completely loses all sense the second he dips into you - focused on nothing but the sensation of you, the snug fit of your pussy, the fucked out look on your face, the gasps of pleasures filling his ears and he’s kicking himself for going this long in life without it. as soon as he gets one taste he’s addicted, fucking you any chance you allow him and he’s always so thankful too.

승민. KIM SEUNGMIN

virgin!seungmin who gets a little carried away. he’s sometimes too messy and greedy, completely pussy drunk the first time you let him bury his head between your legs. thumbing your folds apart and practically making out with your cunt like he’s done it a million times before, tongue nudging and playing with your sensitive bud until your dripping and clenching around nothing. he’s a little too rough, all those pent up years of not having a cute pussy to play with being let out on you, forcing his cock into you just to see how deep you can take it, watching every little twitch and spasm of your pretty face, until you’re clawing at his arms and begging him to slow down. but he just can’t. he’s went all this time devoid of your cunt that he just can’t help the stuttering of his hips grinding into your at an animalistic pace, fucking you so well you wouldn’t have guessed he’s never done it before. he defiantly watches amateur porn, picking up a few of the less exaggerated tips and tricks he could use to make your little pussy twitch in excitement if you ever allow him the chance, making you eat your words of how a virgin like him couldn’t possibly know how to fuck. and he proves you wrong, tiring out your cunt for hours on end, bending your knees until they’re pressed tightly against your chest so he can fuck you even deeper and harder, coaxing more of those cute tears out of you while talking about how a virgin like him can fuck you better than all those other assholes you let between your legs. 

아이엔. YANG JEONGIN

virgin!jeongin who gets overwhelmed way too quick. he can hardly makeout with you without making a mess of his boxers. his mind runs a mile a minute and he just can’t handle it when you’re sat pretty on his lap, subtly grinding down onto his cock through layers of clothes - still he’s able to feel the heat of your cunt through the fabric, the hard press of his cock bumping and jutting painfully between your folds. paired with the way your mouth is busy working his own open, nails scratching through his hair and down the nape of his neck, pressing yourself against him until he was painfully aware of your tits pushed into his chest and he’s silently begging you for mercy, hands scrambling to still your hips until its too late. he can only look away bashfully when a gasped whine dangles from his lips, red creeping up his neck and ears when the warmth of his cum leaks uncomfortably through his jeans. and he hates the slight mocking tone of your words when you try to comfort him after, wishing the ground would swallow him up whole and he’s certain he’ll die a virgin. he jerks himself off to you at night, muffling little whimpers of your name behind his palm as he fists his cock - thinking about that one time you stroked on his biceps, commenting how much bigger he’s gotten with a flirty smile, the way your skirts seem to get shorter and shorter eveytime you link up, how you like to make him hard in public then turn around and make him deal with it alone. it makes it all the more sweeter when you finally let him fuck you, nudging into your tight cunt with a sigh of relief, praying that this time he won’t cum so soon cause he just wants to savour it.

© seungisms - all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated. 

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤROTTEN TONGUEㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How would they react if you—their everything, the light in their lives—told them you wished they’d die.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

You’d never said anything like that before. You were always calm, always firm, but soft. But tonight—when he locked the doors to keep you inside, when he said he was just protecting you from the city—you snapped.

“I wish you’d die.”

Bruce doesn’t yell. He doesn't even speak at first. He just stands there, the air freezing around him. Something in his eyes dies—then lights up again, colder, sharper.

He nods slowly. “That’s fair,” he says. His voice is empty. “I’ve wished the same for myself for a long time. But I can’t die… not yet.”

You scream at him, try to claw your way past him. He lets you hit him. Blood trickles down his jaw, and he doesn’t flinch. He even looks grateful.

“Hit me again. I deserve worse.”

That night, he disappears into the cave for hours. You hear the training equipment groaning under his blows. Alfred won’t meet your eyes. You try to leave again, and suddenly Bruce is there, silent, blocking the door.

“I won’t stop you,” he whispers. “But don’t come back. I’ll pretend I never had you… to protect what’s left of me.”

When you break down crying, he doesn’t smile. He just opens his arms like a grave opening for its dead.

And you fall in.

Bruce doesn't get better. He just makes sure no one else ever hurts you—even if it's you hurting him.

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

Dick tries so hard to be perfect for you. He bends himself backward until he breaks, just to make you smile. So when you say it—when you scream “I wish you were dead!” because he showed up at your job again, scared your coworker off, read your texts—

It’s like a punch to the throat.

He laughs. Loud. Hysterical. Like he can’t believe it.

“You—you don’t mean that. Babe, you don’t say things like that to me. You love me.”

You push him again. You scream that he’s suffocating you, that he’s obsessed. He grabs your wrists—not hard, never hard, just enough to stop you from shaking.

“But I love you so much. I wake up thinking about you. I breathe because of you. If I died—would you cry?”

You say no.

He flinches. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him truly ugly.

That night, he vanishes. No texts. No calls. Then a day later, you find him outside your window, soaked from the rain, eyes red. “I stayed away. Like you wanted. But I think I’m dying.”

You’re horrified. You didn’t mean it like that. But Dick isn’t hearing you anymore.

“You wished I’d die. And I’m trying, okay? I haven’t eaten. I haven’t slept. What more do you want?”

You cry, and he holds you, shaking, repeating “I forgive you. I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. You love me. I forgive you.”

He never lets you say it again.

Not because you wouldn’t.

Because he’ll never give you a reason to.

— JASON TODD ⋆

Jason’s not like the others. His obsession’s dirty, raw, full of pain. He follows you because he knows what Gotham does to pretty things. You never catch him… but you feel him. In the corner of your eye. In the extra locks on your door. In the fear in your dates’ eyes.

So when he drags some guy off you—some guy you wanted—and punches him half to death, and you scream, “I WISH YOU WERE DEAD!”

The world explodes.

“You think I haven’t already?” he roars. “I did! I was in a fucking coffin and came back just to see you again!”

He throws a chair across the room. His eyes are bloodshot, his chest heaving.

“I died. I died, and I was alone, and I clawed my way out of hell—and you wanna wish me dead again?!”

You back away. He freezes. The silence is louder than the shouting.

“I’d rather die again than see you look at me like that,” he whispers.

He disappears for days. You think he’s gone—until your windows are fixed. Your groceries are stocked. The man who touched you never comes near you again.

Then one night, Jason shows up, bloody, bruised, eyes raw. He kneels.

“Kill me. If that’s what it takes for you to feel safe again.”

You cry. He holds you.

And you realize: he’d gladly die for you.

But he’ll never let anyone else have you.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

You told him to stop tracking your phone. You told him to stop threatening your friends. But he didn’t listen. He said he was protecting you. You were his. His angel. His light. His beloved. So when you scream, “I wish you were dead, Damian,”

He just stops.

It’s unnatural. He’s so still, like a porcelain doll about to crack.

“…Say it again,” he says quietly.

You do.

He walks away.

You expect a tantrum. A fight. But Damian goes quiet. Too quiet. The manor doesn’t hear from him for days. Alfred’s worried. Bruce is furious. You check your phone—nothing. Then, one night, you find a white rose on your bed. A note: “I’ve erased the people who twisted your mind. You’re safe now.”

You go outside and find blood on the porch. Damian’s waiting in the shadows.

“You said you wished I were dead. But you didn’t mean it. Not really.” His voice is like cold glass. “You were angry. And I forgive you.”

You say you meant it. That he’s suffocating you.

He blinks. Then slowly, his expression shatters.

“Don’t say that,” he breathes. “Don’t lie to me. I know your heart.”

He kneels before you like a knight. “Even if you hate me… I’ll wait. For years. Decades. Centuries. But I will never leave you.”

You try to run. He lets you. But you don’t get far.

Because the League of Assassins watches you now.

And so does he.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[wonubby]

so perfect - k! bakugou

cw: none, bakugou's just such a cutie! also tooth rotting fluff ^_^

a/n: wrote this while listening to she looks so perfect, if you couldnt tell

yeah, he loved you.

he's always known he's loved you. the only problem was that you didn't know. well, you kind of knew; he just hasn't said it out loud.

but seeing you in his bed, lying in an oversized shirt and a random pair of boxers you stole from his drawer, made him want to say it.

"why're u starin' at me, freak?" you giggled, looking up from your phone at the boy.

a pinkish hue scattered against his cheeks at your words, glancing away. "im looking at how ugly you are; why did i let you into my dorm again?" he scoffed, the corners of his lips turning up.

"haha, you're hilarious, kats. you literally asked me to come. now what's up?" you gave him a pointed look, sitting up to face him.

"nothing, 'm just tired." he gave a quick excuse, bashfully rubbing his hand against his neck.

squinting at him, you sigh before letting it go. "oh well, come sit; i wanna sleep and i need my furnace to keep me warm." you pat the spot next to you, slightly shuffling back.

he gave you an incredulous look. "get the fuck out of my bed. you aren't sleeping here." he grabbed your arm, pulling you up and out of the comfy sheets.

"hey! you ass, what're you doing!" you shrieked as he wrapped himself around you.

he didn't respond, only burying his head in your neck, sending tickles down your spine. consciously, you wrapped your arms around slowly, worried about the sudden change of attitude.

"kats? are you okay?" your voice was so sweet it made his head nudge your chin.

"yo... ook... so... fect.." his voice was muffled so you could really hear him.

grabbing him by the hair, you pulled him away from your neck, staring into his vermilion eyes.

"what?" you whispered. "i didn't get any of that. can you repeat it for me?"

"i said, you look so perfect."

you were frozen, staring at him in the eyes in shock. did your childhood best friend just call you perfect...?

he stepped back, gulping. "shit... sorry, i." he opened and closed his mouth like a fish, hustling a hand through his delicate, gorgeous hair.

"i really fucking like you, and you're out here prancing around my room in my fucking American Apparel underwear, and, god, you're so gorgeous."

it was your turn to blush now, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze.

"i really, really like you, y/n, and, fuck, maybe i love you? i don't fucking know, sorry-"

he was cut off when you placed your lips on his, taking his breath away. slowly, but surely, he melted into the kiss. sweaty hands pulling you into him with a need never experienced before.

breaking away, you smiled at him. "kats, i like- no. i love you too."

with a grin, he pulled you back into a hug, finally feeling at peace.

"hey bakugou!" all of a sudden, the four idiots he reluctantly called his friends entered the room.

"OH?!" mina shouted, practically jumping in her spot.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"