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lokissweater · 1 month

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DON’T HAVE TO GUESS

{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}

summary: yuta is the greatest boyfriend to ever grace this earth. one problem though? he refuses to touch you out of fear of making you uncomfortable or disrespecting you (no matter how bad he wants it). your pent up sexual frustration is at an all time high and you’re sick of him rejecting your advances, so you devise a plan to get him to crack.

content: MDNI. FILTHY SMUT, smut with plot, established relationship, afab!reader, pet names, references to alcohol and drinking, college party, cursing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), dirty talk, FERAL YUTA, oral, creampie, yuta is down bad for you.

word count: 5.8k

author’s note: theming inspired by charli xcx ft. miss billie eilish’s song “guess” !! MWAH.

if you would like to know the origin story of this au, you can read it here! but it can also be read without it :)

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yuta felt like an absolute freak.

ever since you both officially became a couple, he’s been the absolute happiest man alive and never ever goes a day without showering you with affection, kisses, and telling you how much he loves and adores you.

but behind that? yuta has a little secret.

and he is gnawing at the iron bars of his enclosure in absolute torture every time you do something, anything, that can get his little horn dog mind to imagine you in thirty five different positions on his bed crying out for him.

it doesn’t even have to be something you do that remotely resembles anything sexual, so on a day where you were sitting pretty beside him in the passenger seat of his car, the blood rushing to his dick at the sight of the seatbelt strap pushing in between your puffy boobs—

he knew it was bad.

yuta’s shamefully always thought about these things— even when you were both just on best friend status. but it’s harder now, much harder for him to behave because he doesn’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. he respects you so much and always treats you like pretty porcelain glass, delicately running his hands over your body and soft face when you share a kiss or an embrace.

so now whenever he feels his heart pounding against his chest, face boiling red, and the all too familiar feeling of the lower region of his pants maybe getting a little too tight because of you, he immediately removes himself from the situation to prevent from spazzing out.

the bad thing was— this happened practically every single day and nearly every other hour, to the point where it was blatantly obvious and you were completely and utterly confused as to why.

every time you stand up on your tippy toes to give him a sugary kiss, arms wrapped around his neck and yuta’s arms around your waist, the makeout doesn’t last for more than thirty seconds before he’s pulling apart from your lips with a smack!, walking away with his head down, hands tight at his sides, and with a lame excuse for his abrupt leave.

every time you accidentally drop something and bend over to retrieve it with yuta standing directly behind you— when you come back up and turn your head to face him, he’s already staring back at you with wide eyes, lips pressed into a thin line and cheeks flushed pink. you’d ask then if he was okay, to which he would respond by a quick nod of the head and a dash out of the room to leave for a moment… again.

he did it so much to the point where he eventually avoided touching you all together, and you absolutely hated it. yuta’s always been affectionate with you, he’s never not touched you, and on a day where you swung a leg over his lap to straddle him on his bed, eager to show him a little loving and a smooch— you had just about had it when he placed his hands on your hips as you were trailing your mouth down his neck, physically pulling you off his lap and leaving the room— muttering about god knows what.

until you noticed.

you and yuta were seated on your living room couch watching a movie, the both of you dozing off gingerly as his head was resting against your shoulder, undoubtedly exhausted after a days worth of college classes and homework.

you went to place a sleepy hand on his upper thigh, about to tell him that you both should move upstairs to your room and sleep, but when your fingers accidentally grazed his crotch area, yuta shot up like a light and startled you awake— eyes blown wide and frantic.

“whatareyoudoing—”

“yu! my god—” you placed a hand over your heart, chest heaving. “i was just gonna tell you that we should go up to my room and sleep.”

yuta’s shoulders visibly dropped, and he closed his eyes momentarily before licking his lips, exhaling deeply.

“h-oh my god—“ he opened his eyes again after regulating his breathing and looked at you with worried eyes. “fuck i’m sorry baby… did i scare you?”

you gave him a little nod and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders then, kissing your cheek and the side of your head apologetically. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i did that.”

but you did, and it was like a switch had gone off in your head, everything finally making sense.

every moment he would suddenly leave, or remove you from him when you tried anything, or every expression and reaction he made when you would wear something tight or short, all fell into place like a delicious puzzle piece.

so when he lead you to bed and cuddled you up innocently to sleep that night, you came up with a plan to test this theory.

you wanted yuta to crack.

unfortunately, your first attempt was a fail.

yuta had plans to take you out on a little summer picnic date by the beach, and when he arrived at your house and you texted him to come in and make himself at home in your room, you were absolutely giddy, fixing your dress and applying the finishing touches to your makeup in the bathroom.

you had slipped on a long, skin tight black spandex dress for the day— one that hugged every inch and crevice of your body like a vice, a mischievous look in your eyes as you ran your fingers through your styled hair before leaving, practically skipping down the hall back to your room.

the minute you came in, yuta’s eyes flew open.

“hi baby!” you greeted sweetly, walking over to where he sat at the edge of your bed and leaned down, planting a soft kiss to his blushing cheek.

score.

“h-hi.”

“do you like it?” you asked eagerly, doing a little twirl for him and mentally making sure to pop your ass out a little more in his direction. “i bought it just yesterday!”

“i.. i do, baby.” he squeaked, voice hoarse and mind in a full blown fucking panic when you took his hands in yours and ushered him to stand.

but he remained stiff as a board, arms glued to his sides and hands in tight fists as he looked at you, face strained.

you playfully rolled your eyes and took his hands, guiding them towards you. “you can touch me, silly. here— feel the spandex-”

and you purposely dropped his hands to land right on your ass with a smack.

yuta immediately inhaled sharply through his nose and choked, his face dropping straight into the crook of your neck to hide his delirious expression. yuta was biting the inside of his cheek so unbelievably hard that he tasted metal, his eyes squeezing shut as nasty thoughts flashed through his mind like a forest fire.

holy shit holy shit holy shit—

“f..feels nice,” he muttered into your neck, and you grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your lips up to his ear.

“does it?”

you felt yuta giving in and slowly squeeze the plump of your ass, and he felt like an absolute fucking monster at the way he was feeling you up when in his eyes, you were just innocently showing him your pretty little long dress.

but just when you thought you had won, your smile wide with delight, he tore away from you and excused himself from the room with a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving you dumbfounded and defeated.

on your second attempt, you refused to accept defeat and planned more diligently than before, his tiny mess up from last time motivating and proving to you that your plan could bear fruit.

this day was particularly scorching, one of the hottest days of the year as you and yuta decided to get ice cream after one of his lectures from a shop down the street, an attempt at cooling off and escaping the heat.

you were sitting on a cute bench under shade just outside the shop as you waited for your boyfriend to come back, nervous and wearing a low cut baby doll top that showed a little more boob than you originally intended, but due to the circumstance at hand… the more the merrier!

after a few minutes, the door to the shop chimed open and yuta stepped out— two vanilla ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles delectably adorning the pair of soft serves in his hands. he carefully handed one to you and grinned.

“here baby.”

you took a cone from his offering hand gratefully and licked a little off it as he sat down.

“thank you!” you responded sweetly, and it made his heart skip a beat as you both sat there, enjoying the summer heat and each others gentle company.

without yuta noticing though, you had stopped licking your ice cream as he chatted to you about the things he had to do for the coming week, attentively listening to him as you patiently waited— the vanilla soft serve glistening under the heat and slowly melting, droplets oozing off the sides until one landed right on your tit.

score.

“oh!” you gasped, looking down and pouting, “i spilled someee.”

yuta quickly reached to the side and pulled out a napkin he had brought from the shop, extending it out towards you but faltering when you shook your head frantically.

“no! it’ll go to waste! and i can’t reach down and lick it off myself…” you huffed and looked at him with the cutest face he had ever seen you make… you smirking deviously on the inside. “can you lick it off for me, yu? please.”

you had said it so nonchalant, so casual like it was the easiest most normal thing in the world to do, but it had yuta’s body and mind freezing over as you scooted closer to him, waiting.

“h— huh?” he stammered, unable to take his eyes away from your tits, the sight of ice cream drooling down over them an image he wanted to tattoo behind his eyelids to look at forever— his cheeks bright pink.

“hurry! it’s gonna stain my top,” you whined, putting a hand on his shoulder as yuta let you tug him down, him ogling and literally gawking over your chest.

without another thought, yuta stuck his slick tongue out and slowly ran it over the top of your puffy tit just like you had asked him to, the angel on his shoulder screaming at him to stop as his tongue continued to trail up your chest and around your neck, your breath hitching in surprise.

the sound of your reaction broke him out of his trance and he flinched away from you, chest heaving and pupils blown out with the biggest pit of shame in his stomach, feeling like a fucking pervert.

but you, your shoulders evidently deflated in disappointment as you pressed your thighs together, trying to mend the buzzing ache between your legs as your mind thought over and over about what he did, something you didn’t expect at all, and something you wanted him to do again.

“let’s… let’s go for a walk, yeah?” yuta spoke quickly and gently to you, taking your hand that was on his shoulder and pulling you up off the bench, him confused as to why you had a frown on your face.

but for the third and final attempt, you were utterly and hopelessly desperate. every time you guys hung out, yuta was still the absolute sweetest and did everything he could to make you happy, yet he still just wouldn’t touch you, and it was driving you fucking crazy.

you were getting reckless at this point, your pent up sexual frustration sky rocketing with every passing day, but you were completely oblivious to the fact that yuta was dealing with the same form of torture.

except way, way worse.

it’s gotten to the point where just the sound of your sweet sugary voice over the speakers of his phone has him biting down on the edges of his pillow, arms wrapped tightly around himself and his body curled up into a pathetic ball of despair, his dick rock solid and his mind filled with thoughts that consisted of strictly just you.

so when you called him up and asked if he wanted to come with you to one of your girl friend’s parties, yuta knew he was one hundred percent fucked.

he wanted to keep respecting you. he wanted you to know how special you were to him and how serious he was about your relationship with him, and he sure as hell did not want you to feel uncomfortable because he was a horny piece of shit that didn’t know self control and wanted to have sex every five minutes.

except he was a horny piece of shit, has always been one over you, and yuta knew the second he saw you dolled up in your pretty little dress looking absolutely lethal, he was going to lose it.

and he did.

with his arms crossed over his chest and a tight hand over his mouth, he nodded and hummed out a series of “mhm’s” at everything you were saying as you finished up getting ready, his eyebrows pinched together in complete agony at the sight of you.

the pastel green glittery dress you had on was so criminally short that any inch of movement you made, the bottom of your ass cheeks would peak out from below the hem of your dress.

he slightly lowered his hand from his mouth. “baby?”

“yeah?” you responded softly and turned your body to face him, spritzing your vanilla coconut perfume over your frame.

“i-isn’t your dress— a little short?”

you put the perfume bottle down on your vanity desk and looked down, internally giddy that he noticed the length, your plan coming into fruition.

score.

“oh is it?” you tugged at the hem of your dress, scooting it back down. “does it look bad? i—”

“no no!” yuta’s hands shot out frantically as he shook his head. “you’re so so pretty baby, the most gorgeous little thing i’ve ever seen,” he took a few steps toward you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, being mindful of your perfectly styled hair that made him weak in the knees. “i just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night and not enjoy yourself.”

your heart melted at his words and consideration as you smiled warmly, eyes sparkling up as you gave him a cute peck on the lips and hugged him back, “you’re so nice to me, yu.”

yuta snorted but looked down at you fondly. “that’s the bare minimum baby.”

“so.” you peeled away from him and walked over to the bed to pick up your purse, swinging the strap over your shoulder. “all i do is make you ham sandwiches after your soccer practices.”

yuta laughed loudly, “that’s all you do?”

“yup!”

he nudged your shoulder playfully with his, a grin on his face as he walked down the stairs with you and out the door to his car.

“brat.”

at the party, your plan was to be as devilish and flashy as possible, showing off every curve and angle of your body to your boyfriend in means of getting him to crack, and your ticket there was the length of your dress—

but more specifically?

what you had on underneath.

when you met up with the rest of your friend group that were all residing on the long lounge sofa in the living room like always, you grabbed yuta’s hand and led him over to join the rest of them. he politely greeted each and every one, keeping you close by the hip before you both settled down on the couch.

yuta wasn’t a big party person like you were, but he also didn’t particularly dislike them either. as long as you were there with him, he always ended up getting shit faced and having the time of his life with you and your friends, something that didn’t even happen when he went to parties with his own friends.

your closest girl friend that sat across from you at an angle turned her body, yelling over the music. “have you tried this?!”

she pointed to the red solo cup in her hand, and you shook your head.

“no! what is it?!”

“someone from the frat next door made a mix of malibu and pineapple rum! it’s really good here!-”

she reached over and offered her cup, and as soon as you stood to retrieve it, an idea popped into your head— eyes widening. without another thought, you moved over to stand right in front of yuta before fully and erotically bending and lunging over to reach for the cup.

he stopped breathing. he looked at the way your dress rode up literally half way up your ass and he stopped breathing.

it was so unbelievably high up that he saw the color of your underwear— a lacy black pair with little bows adorned over the sides like a present, slightly see through but enough to see the outline of your lower lips.

yuta clasped a tight hand over his mouth, but as soon as that happened he realized that whatever he was seeing, everybody else was seeing as well. including that stupid moron that had been staring at you since the moment you both got here.

in record time his trembling arms shot out and yuta grabbed the hem of your dress, tugging it back down over your ass as he wrapped an arm around your waist tightly, pulling you back to sit on his lap.

you loved that he did that, but as you sipped the drink and chatted on with your friends, you were entirely unaware of the way yuta’s arms were gripped around your waist like a lock, his forehead resting on your back with his face hidden.

yuta felt like an absolute fucking freak again as the image of your puffy lower lips outlining your lacy panties flicked over and over and over again in his mind without a break. he felt so nasty, so shameful and so hard as he tried with all of his will power to calm his breathing and stop the bouncing of his right knee, eyes screwed tight.

holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck—

he needed you so badly, needed to slip that skimpy dress off of you and bury his face in between your legs, needed to slip his swollen dick out and grope your tits and pump his—

shut up shut up shut up—

at the feeling of his leg bouncing rapidly, you looked back and slightly turned yourself, confused at the sight of his hung head that was refusing to detach from your body and look at you properly.

you placed a gentle hand at the top of his head, the feeling of his silky black hair underneath your fingers. “yu?—”

his head snapped up straightaway, and your eyes widened as you took in the way his chest was heaving and his pupils were blown out, face completely red and his body practically shivering beneath you.

you frowned, “baby? are you okay?”

you shifted once more to assess him better, but his eyes only shot back down to your ass as he felt your dress rise up again.

such pretty bows…

yuta smashed his face in against your side, eyes screwed shut.

calm down calm down calm down—

it was almost completely dark in the frat house, colors of red and blue and green bouncing across the walls of the lower level as people drank and made havoc, your friends all caught up in their own inebriated worlds to realize what was happening between the both of you.

and at the feeling of his hardened cock against your ass, you slowly smiled and finally understood— your hand coming up to stroke his cheek lovingly, the act simple and innocent, until you took his hand from your lap and agonizingly dragged it further up and up and up your thigh…

shit shit shit—

until you guided his shaking fingers to the patch of wet in between your parted thighs, the lace material up against the pads of his—

fuck it.

yuta pushed you off of his lap and stood, snatching your wrist tightly before tugging and dragging you away from the couch and through the mass of people on the dance floor.

“yuta!” you yelled over the music. “where are we going?”

you were so confused, and you worried that maybe you had pushed his buttons a little too far and that now he was upset, and judging by the way he didn’t even turn around or respond when you spoke to him, it looked like that might be the case.

you gnawed at your bottom lip in concern as he led you both up the stairs of the house— you focused on trying to keep your dress from riding completely up and him opening and closing several different doors before he found what he was looking for.

yuta dragged you in the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him, his lips instantly latching onto your cheek, desperate wet open mouthed kisses dropping down to your neck and down to your chest as you gasped.

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—” he repeated like a chant, voice muffled by the way he was sucking on your neck like a little leech, his fingers looping themselves in the straps of your dress before pulling down and revealing your bare tits to him.

you were wholeheartedly gobsmacked at what he was doing and you were loving every single second of it, the way his wild eyes darted over your tits and his wet lips just about drooling over them.

“i’m gonna suck your tits,” his gaze shot back up to you, chest rising and falling. “okay baby?”

a fierce blush spread over your cheeks at his words, mentally cursing yourself for wanting this so bad but feeling bashful at the wrong freaking time.

you barely even nodded before he picked you up by the waist and set you down on the counter of the sink, his wet tongue darting across the plush of your breasts and pressing flat against your nipple, your breath hitching at the feeling.

yuta sucked and nipped feverishly at your nipples, getting them slick and slippery with his spit as he squeezed at your waist desperately, your pretty moans ringing through his ears making his bulge tighten and strain against the buckle of his belt.

he trailed his tongue back up to your neck and groped the fat of your ass with his hands, subconsciously rutting into your covered lips as he whined and groaned over the warmth of your pussy.

“i— i’m gonna cum in my pants if we keep going.” he puffed out, tone constricted as he looked at you with feral half lidded eyes.

you nodded quickly. “but i want you to, yu. inside me.”

yuta’s eyes blew wide open as he shook his head, and you felt the way his hands trembled while he gripped your hips.

“we— we can’t baby,” panting, he unwillingly pulled his bulge slightly apart from your warmth and looked at you sincerely. “i can’t do that to you—“

“do what?” you asked softly, tilting your head to the side. “make love to me?”

“no— well, yes?” he dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder and placed his hands at the edge of the counter to support his weight, groaning.

“i don’t want you to think i’m taking advantage of you or— or not respecting you and i want you to know how serious i’m taking this relationship and—”

you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you, your voice sweet and soft. “who said that? i don’t think that at all yu, and i know you’re serious about us.. i wouldn’t be sitting on this counter with my tits out if you weren’t.”

yuta laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“you don’t wanna fuck me?” you whispered lewdly.

“trust me i do—”

“you don’t wanna see what kind of panties i have on under?” you pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck. “you don’t want to maybe guess the color of my underwear?”

“oh i don’t have to guess baby,” he shook his head and grinned. “i know.”

yuta buried his face in your hair and inhaled, “has this been your plan all along pretty? to be a little slut for me and show off what you got going on down there?” he snapped his bulge back on your pussy so roughly that you jolted up by the sheer force. “to get me to fuck you? hm?”

you didn’t respond, you couldn’t respond by the way he was running and groping his hands deliciously all over your body as he spoke nasty to you. all you could do was moan stupidly.

“lucky for you, i’m just as guilty.”

he pulled your straps back over your shoulders then while sliding you off the counter, tugging the hem of your dress down over your ass before opening the door and leading you by the hand outside.

yuta ran through the halls opening and closing doors again, the both of you laughing when you would find other people fucking or making out, until he finally found an open vacant room with a bed and slammed the door closed, locking it.

his lips smashed against yours without another moment wasted, you unzipping and pulling your dress up and over yourself as he yanked his shirt off and threw it fuck knows where.

pushing you down gently on the bed, yuta took a step back to admire your perfect perfect body, the way your tits bounced with every movement you made, and the way that god forsaken lacy black underwear made you look as he just stood there and stared.

you cowered a little under his gaze, legs closing and arms crossing over your chest. “what?”

he shook his head. “i love you… so much.”

you smiled bright then, pearly whites on display as you watched him reach down and fumble with his belt frantically, sliding it off and pushing his pants down before kicking them away and hovering over you until you were both entirely bare.

yuta pressed honeyed wet kisses all the way down your body and in between your legs, shoving his face to your clothed pussy and inhaling your sweet scent, moaning as he did so.

he was so freakishly hard as he licked a long stripe up, the fabric rough and wet under his tongue as you squirmed and whined, impatient and bratty.

“you taste so sweet, baby.” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and spitting on your clit, his index finger running delicately and slowly over your meaty slimy folds.

“fuck—” you panted, carding your fingers through his hair. “more please—”

“more?” he hummed, watching at the way you shook and shivered with his every touch as he slobbered all over your pussy like a man starved.

it was so filthy, squelching and sloshes of his mean mouth bullying your clit as your fingers flew to grip the sheets beneath you.

“eek!” you squealed, your thighs closing tight around his head as he ate, his hands coming up to force them apart.

“let me eat.”

yuta gripped the fat of your plushy thighs as his sloppy tongue moved across your lips and pussy, coaxing your syrupy cunt to pulse and jump with each lick, a knot forming at the pit of your tummy.

“i— yu, i can’t—” you tried to run away from his mouth. “i’m gonna cum—”

but he only grabbed your hips and brought you back down roughly, his rolling tongue lapping up your juices before your entire body shook with erotic ecstasy, your thighs clamping shut as you squealed and creamed on his tongue.

“fuuuucckkk,” he dragged out, coming back up and sliding your absolutely drenched and ruined panties down your shaking legs, his mouth coated and shiny and covered in you.

yuta pumped his cock a few times, and that’s when you noticed just how big he was, packing a meaty punch that had your mouth watering and desperate.

you spread your legs again as he climbed over you, sliding his dick in between your messy sticky folds before lining his fat tip against your hole.

god, yuta’s body and dick were on fucking fire, his tip slowly nudging and slightly stretching you, a pathetic whine leaving his lips at the feeling of your perfect pussy that was entirely his to fuck, a dream he’s had and yearned over for what feels like an eternity.

“m’gonna put it in,” he choked, licking his lips as he tightly gripped your waist.

you eagerly nodded, spreading your legs even wider. “please, i want you to fill me up, yu.”

and with that, yuta slowly and deliciously stretched your little cunt open, his swollen dick pushing past your tight squeezing gummy walls until he bottomed out.

“f—fuck,” he swallowed thickly. “you gotta loosen up baby you’re milking me—”

your hands gripped at his arms for support as yuta gently pumped his cock, your pussy sucking him up like a yummy lollipop and trapping him inside. “i can’t yu…” you shook your head. “you’re too big—”

his glassy eyes darkened over at your words, and he picked up a brutal pace almost instantly.

“is this— hah— what you wanted?” he reached out and pinched your rosy cheek meanly, pounding into your puffy walls as you cried dumbly. “to fuck you dumb on my dick after teasing me like that downstairs? huh?”

your eyes squeezed shut, loud pornographic moans tumbling out of your throat as he fucked you like he hated you, your tits bouncing with every hit.

a series of pat pat pat’s bounced all over the walls as yuta buried his face into your neck, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he shoved his dick inside of you over and over and over again.

“i can— hah— barely move you’re sucking me, baby.” yuta hiccuped, his eyes welling with feral tears.

it felt good, way too good and he could hardly handle it, his heart racing against his chest as he watched you make slutty faces that only fueled his erotic agony.

he fucked you full into the mattress, setting an animalistic pace as the headboard hit against the wall repeatedly.

“s—slow down, yu!” you whined, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his tip hit your cervix without mercy, you on the verge of cumming and creaming all over his dick.

“no—” he shook his head and looked at you, your sweaty hot bodies sticking together. “m’sorry pretty i c—can’t—”

yuta hiccuped and whined and cried at the way your greedy pussy was milking him for all of his worth, his abs tensing at the familiar feeling of his release. the amount of times yuta fisted his cock to the thought of you like a pervert, just like this, spread out and pretty, didn’t even come close or compare to the real thing laying in front of him right now.

“m’gonna pull out, okay?” he muttered. “gonna cum—“

“nuh uh!” you whined, wrapping your thighs tightly around his waist to keep him inside, your arms clutching his brooding shoulders. “i want you to dump it inside of me.”

“i— inside?!” he swallowed.

you nodded and smiled sweetly at him through your fucked out expression and puffy pouty lips, a sight he never ever wanted to forget in his life and keep the privilege of looking at every day, just for him.

yuta groaned again and shoved his face back into your neck, squishing your tits in his hands and holding on to them for dear life as you milked his cock, slamming his hips up to meet yours and you whimpering at how deliciously rough he was.

“mm— fuck!” you squealed as you felt yuta’s hot ropey cum shoot up your walls, bucket loads of it filling you to the brim as you felt your own orgasm wash over you, his hand pressing down against your lower tummy as he hiccuped against your neck.

you both grabbed on to each other as you tried to come down from your highs, your skin sticky and hot as his steamy breath fanned over your ear shakily, the booming of music downstairs shaking the walls a little and the sounds of footsteps walking down the halls filling your ears.

yuta gently peeled himself from you and slowly, delicately— pulled his dick out, his pupils dilating at the sight of his milky cum oozing out of you sluggishly.

his dizzy eyes flickered over to your dazed and tired face, smiling softly. “are you okay baby?”

you closed your eyes as he leaned down and brushed some of your hair away from your eyes, laughing a little. “yeah.”

“wait here—” he whispered before getting off the bed and walking over to what he assumed was the bathroom, retrieving a random towel.

coming back over, he tenderly spread your legs and cleaned you up, rubbing soothing circles into your ankles with his thumbs as he did so before plopping back down on the bed next to you, pulling you softly into his arms.

that was the first time you both had sex together, and as the fact registered into your head, you buried your face into his bare chest shyly.

“hm?” yuta looked down at you. “what, baby?”

“you’ve seen me naked now,” you muttered, voice faintly muffled.

he giggled lowly. “you’ve seen me naked now too.”

“your dick is big,” you leaned back a bit. “i can’t believe you’ve been keeping that thing hostage from me.”

yuta choked at your blunt statement and shook his head. “i’ve always wanted this baby, believe me.” he kissed your forehead and nuzzled his face into your neck. “i just didn’t want to disrespect you pretty so i just didn’t know if you wanted it like i did.”

“but i do—”

he laughed again, “i know you do, now i do.”

you smiled sheepishly as yuta caressed your back with his fingertips lovingly, feeling like he was at the gates of heaven with you in his arms after having shared something so intimate like that for the first time, something he only lived in his sleepy dreams prior to this moment.

“i love you, yu.” you mumbled against his chest, and his heart absolutely melted as he captured your lips in a sweet sweet kiss.

oh how he loved you, and the sight of your gorgeous naked body next to him, your breathtaking unreal face looking at him and only him with those eyes—

was something he wouldn’t trade for the world.

taglist <3: @turtlesaee @heretoreadfics

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tonycries · 2 months

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Girl, You Earned It!

Synopsis. Just the típ? Don’t make him laugh.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, “just the típ” trope, REALLY pússydrunk boys, marathon séx, cúmplay, semi-exhíbitionism (Nanami’s), bréeding, Geto’s rings omg, Geto’s a bit mean, creampíe, spítting, FÉRAL Gojo, best friend! Choso, fírst times (Choso’s), chokíng, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.4k

A/N. Smooches to that one anon for inspiring this. Hope y’all have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Handle it.

It was a familiar little song and dance - Toji’s favorite one at that.

It’s around his fourth orgasm that night, head thrown back against the pillows to watch with a lewd little leer at the way you’re stuttering your limp hips down, down, down his long, swollen cock. Those glossy lips of yours sagging open to whine, “Too full, Toji! C-can’t ngh- handle it-”

Ah, it never gets old.

Toji finds his brows knitting together in mock concern, cooing in a baritone voice, “Awww, my girl’s poor pussy can’t handle it?”

At your bleary nod, he snakes a hand down as if to confirm, thumbing apart your puffy folds. All quivering and glistening with his seed in the dim lighting, “She’s too full? Too stuffed to take hah- even my tip?”

Without any warning, you feel long, thick fingers splay out across your lower stomach. Pushing down - hard to make your poor cunt gush all around him. Coating his aching cock with a sheen of the cum he’d stuffed inside not so long ago. “There we go.” he breathes, sounding so utterly smug, ‘We have space now, right?“

“Oh, fuck yes- Toji– fuck fuck fuck-”

“Shhh shhh, s’alright. And since m’feeling so nice, I promise s’gonna be jus- hah- jus’ the tip.” he grins, eyes so greedy and crazed when he looks down at the way you’re sucking him up so greedily. Your pussy lips bulging around the top of his thick head. “M’kay?”

And Toji’s cock was already so big - so rock-hard - that no matter how much he’d split you apart on his cock before, just his fat head squeezing past your sloppy entrance feels like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. Your hazy brain.

Fucking out every coherent thought out of you with each shallow grind up into your gummy walls just to fit inside. Slow, languid - just teasing you.

“Hah- couldn’t ‘handle me’ my ass.” he’s spitting out from underneath you, mean fingers holding your precarious body still for him to pummel into. “The fuck are you hngh- doing now then, huh? Taking me so well.”

An embarrassed mewl is being ripped from your throat when that little divot on the end of Toji’s cock is brushing against your sweet spots. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you realize that he’s just barely managed to squeeze his tip into your tight pussy, “I-I ngh-”

To which his palm comes down with a sharp smack! on the fat of your ass.

“Jus’ the tip n’ you already can’t hah- speak?” he grins up at you, painful cock twitching with delight when you clench around him at the sting. Loving this slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. “Use your words properly, doll.”

You huff, nails digging into Toji’s plush pecs to stabilize yourself on top of him. “Thought I was too- hah- full. Thought I couldn’t handle havin’ you inside me again.”

“Heh- well what did I t-tell, ya?” he grunts, hips still thrusting - still pushing in mindless, semi-thrusts up. Wondering if you could feel his cum sloshing around inside you like he could. “As if I don’t know my girl’s pussy- As if I can’t handle this p-pussy. As if this pussy can’t handle me-”

One hand dances back down to push further against your front. Dredging up every last glob of his seed down your sloppy cunt, forming a creamy ring at his base that he groans at. “Y’can handle it now, right?” The other glides the pads of his fingers across your needy clit, making you arch your body down in surprise. His cock slipping deeper down your pussy, “Fuuuuck yeah, you can definitely handle it now.”

“Toji.” you let out a warning. Your already-ravaged cunt so sensitive. Fingers tightening to leave neat little marks of red down his sculpted skin, “Thought you p-promised it was jus’ gonna be the ah- tip.”

Because his movements were getting deeper. Dangerous.

Still shallow - but purposeful enough that you were sliding way past “just his tip”. And you could feel that sinfully prominent vein from about halfway down his shaft massaging against your sweet spots.

Yet Toji only flashes you a devilish grin, no trace of guilt anywhere. Eyes half-lidded and devouring your adorable pout. “I did.” Giving you just barely enough time to relax before the hand firm on your stomach rests at your waist. Pulling - dragging you all the way down his massive cock. Tugged down like such a slut until he was buried balls-deep, your puffy folds kissing his hilt, your pelvis grinding against those tufts of black at his. “For now, that is.”

Ah, this is his favorite part.

He doesn’t waste even a second before making use of those muscled hips, giving you one, long thrust to haul your slobbering cunt all the way from the very end of his fat head down until he physically couldn’t anymore.

Bruising. Fully. Fucking every false complaint out of you when his cock is finally hitting the back of your needy pussy.

“Think s’time for you to handle all of me now, doll.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “Are you muted?”

Nanami Kento hated working overtime. And he especially hated having to sit at home on his desk, sighing during those droning online meetings which really could’ve been a five-minute conversation at work on Monday.

Which is where you came in.

“Mhm, of course m’muted, my love. Camera’s also off.” he answers your previous question with a slow, sensual drawl into your ear. Thumb gliding across your puffy cunt as he echoes patiently for the first time that hour, “But if you’re gonna be here then you better behave, my love.” Bouncing his knee to shuffle your quivering body where it was perched so prettily on his lap - and his aching, rock-hard cock. “Any deeper than the tip and you hngh- know how s’gonna end.”

A promise.

But it’s been like this for so long now - too long, you think.

Your gummy walls squeeze desperately at that sensitive slit on Nanami’s length, lapping at his weeping precum. Wrists tugging uselessly where he’d tied them together behind your back with his familiar yellow tie. “But Ken, I really want-”

“I know I know, darling.” he presses a gentle kiss to the side of your pouty lips. Hushing those cute, whiny cries of yours that make his swollen cock twitch wildly, balls squeezing so painfully with the sweet sweet temptation to just stuff your tight pussy full. “But if I-”

“Nanami, have you completed the progress report for the client tomorrow?”

Instantly, your husband is in work mode, clearly his ragged voice lightly before hitting the Unmute button. “Yes, Higuruma I’ve…”

But oh his actions were anything but.

Free hand still drawing quick, methodical circles on your clit - just daring you to make a noise while he continues so unfairly with the meeting as if nothing is happening. His deep voice rumbling in his chest with satisfaction, and yet you’re left helpless and aching for more.

“But Ken.” you breathe into his ear, just low enough that the microphone couldn’t pick up. Pushing past the vice-like hold that he had on your hips to seat his delicious cock further and further inside your gummy walls. “Wan’ more. Please, I’ve been patient for so long.”

“-and the charts from last week I’ll have to email.” Nanami rattles off, all business-like, the authoritative tone sending your cunt beading your juices all down his already-soaked cock. Hardened eyes brushing briefly against yours, though he still addresses his business partner, “I’ll make sure to take care of that later.”

And fuck the shivers this sends down your spine have you trembling in Nanami’s practised touch.

Bucking your hips needily into his hand, your slick leaves a lewd little sheen all over his palm, his wrist, all the way down to that metal wrist watch digging into your skin.

“T-take care of it now, Ken.” you’re mewling stubbornly, fighting against those restraints.

Letting your pussy lips fuck back into his thick cock. Deeper. Needier. Sucking him up so good that he’s letting go of your hips to mute himself again.

And fuck if you weren’t going to take the opportunity to just slam yourself down Nanami’s massive length, all the way until you could feel his abs against your ass. That little divot on his thick head smashing against your sweet spots, molding your plushy walls to the shape of his entire cock.

“O-oh fuck.” he breathes, words cracking ever-so-slightly at the end. “The meeting- thought I said just the- hah you’re gonna be the death of me, my love.”

Before you can respond, Higuruma’s chuckling from behind the screen, cutting through the heady air in the room. “Heh, guess you’ve had enough of this since you’re already muted Nanami. Fair enough, I’ve kept you long enough.”

And the words ring in the air, Nanami’s eyes unwavering from his laptop. Turned crazed as he looks to you, a hand already beginning to shut the screen.

“You’re free to go, make up your time with the wife or somethi-”

Slamming it closed.

Followed shortly by you - being slammed onto the ground. Nanami’s hand underneath your face, cushioning the impact when you’re shoved face-first. Him mounting on you in a split second, strong thighs flexing with the effort to fuck you right there right then into the hardwood floor. Depraved. Animalistic.

Not faltering for even a moment when he’s pulling you back by the tie digging into your wrists, sure to leave marks. Using the moment to watch the way your ass ripples every time he’s ramming into you.

“Ken- fuck! Kento-” you sob like a mantra when he hikes up a leg of his to hit all those angles that have him bruising your sweet spots. Thrusts long, hard. Not leaving a single spot inside your gummy cunt untouched. “S’too good too good too good- hah- wan’ed this for so long since you were on that meeting. So hngh- close.”

“M-me too.” Nanami responds, sounding nothing like the put-together business man he was a few moments ago. Almost crazed now. Unpredictable.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same.

All it takes are a few filthy, nasty strokes of his sensitive cock into your snug pussy, of his fingers toying and teasing your clit - and then you’re cumming so fucking hard around him.

Your walls sucking him in a smooth staccato like you were trying to milk the fucking soul out of Nanami while he drills into you through the pleasure. Not even thinking twice before spilling into your greedy pussy himself.

Thick, creamy spurts of cum that warm you from the inside out. Reaching all those hidden spots inside while he pumps it deeper and deeper.

“Oh, my love.” Nanami groans when he pools the seed dribbling out of your cunt with ease. Making a mess of your pussy down below, of that creamy ring at his hilt. “Don’t think m’done making up for my overtime yet.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Battle of wills

“Awww.” you hear Geto’s deep voice cooing softly in your ear. Running his mouth smugly - as if he wasn’t just smashing the angry, soaked tip of his cock into you right now. “You can’t even talk right now. You can’t even breathe.”

Fuck, if it was any less true then you might’ve argued - maybe spat out a hissy little comment.

But, instead, you’re managing out a wet gurgle, Geto’s thick, ringed fingers tightening where they were wrapped prettily around your neck. “I-I-”

The other draws languid, torturous circles on your sensitive clit, just as teasing as the way his hips were just barely pushing past your sopping wet slit. Nudging your honeyed walls with only his fat head. “What was that, gorgeous?”

“I said.” you gasp, when your beloved boyfriend mercifully lets his grip loosen ever-so-slightly to let you answer. “I- I’m going to win the bet, Sugu.”

Ah, the bet. That stupid, thoughtless little challenge you’d posed just a few hours ago about who’d break first if Geto was to fuck your tight pussy with just his tip.

Who knew it would end up with your face pushed into the silky covers of your pillow, both of you barely-lucid and losing your minds as Geto pounded into you as much as he allowed himself to? Both your pathetic prides holding back, just waiting for the other to break first.

Geto’s voice was tinged with amusement, something so dark and mellow as he purrs against the shell of your ear. Cold metal rings digging into your flesh, you choke. “Well then…” His sinful abs flex ominously against your back, “-we’ll just have to see, right?”

“H-hey!” you gasp for air when he slams his hips forwards, letting your dripping cunt envelope him all the way down to that wide rim of his slit.

“What?” he muses in response, circles speeding up and so so messy on your sensitive nub now. “S’jus’ the tip right? Exactly what I did. I’m-” Before moving again, in sultry, purposeful rolls of his slutty hips back and forth. “-not gonna be the hah- one losing this bet.”

Fuck, you’d forgotten how competitive your boyfriend was - always going easy, until he decided he wanted to win.

Geto’s eyes flit between his fingers, blocking your airway, and the wide wide rim of your sloppy entrance being stretched upon his thick head.

Shit, the sight itself was heavenly enough that it had him almost second-guessing his resolve and stuffing you full like he wanted to. Almost.

“Close to surrender?” he’s panting out when a few more shallow, teasing half-strokes has your gummy walls clenching around him like you’re trying to drag out something delicious. Exactly the way he loves - exactly the way he’s addicted to. And, usually, Geto would tell you over and over how much he loves it - but, this time, his ego makes him simply leave a wet trail of kisses down your arched spine. Murmuring heatedly into your ear, “No shame in ngh- giving up, y’know.”

Harder. Deeper - almost.

Squealing airily, “M’not- m’not giving up.”

Immediately, Geto’s chuckling when he squeezes your pretty neck tighter, “M’gonna choke you harder when you lie, gorgeous. Now tell me-” Just wringing out syrupy moans of his name with each push. Each urgent flick of his fingers on your clit - not even circles anymore, fuck no he was too far gone for that now. Just messy, senseless patterns. “Y’gonna lose like my ah- p-pretty girl or am I gonna hafta keep treating you like my bitch?”

“But-” you wheeze.

“I hngh- also really wanna fuck this cute cunt properly, y’know/”

Your vision’s blurring now, lungs straining for air. Yet you’re so cockdrunk that all you can focus on is the lewd curve of Geto’s dick, barely even realizing when your hips are trying to inch down for more. Jolting with each rub of his thumb against your clit.

Harder. Deeper.

“Sugu!” you’re screaming when you recklessly slam yourself back to meet his ruthless cadence. All the way back until your ass was pressing flush against the v-line jutting out from Geto’s toned pelvis. Shoving his cock so deep inside your plushy cunt it felt like his fat tip was making its mark against your lungs.

You lost - gladly.

And for all his confidence, Geto Suguru is shocked. Half-lidded eyes flying open, teeth biting down on his lower lip so hard with the effort to hold back his disbelieving moans it was like he was trying to draw blood.

“O-oh oh my god. Fuck fuck fuck fuck-” he shudders, jaw falling slack, swollen cock colliding in and out with your needy cunt.

You send him a delirious half-glance, “Are you ok-”

The hand rested around your throat immediately comes down - finally letting you breathe. Only to just slam your head back down onto the pillow so you can’t see how utterly fucked he was. Keeping you still, “Just shut up and cum f’me, gorgeous.”

And oh you do - all over Geto’s pretty cock, your elastic walls molding around him to feel every ridge and bump as he fucks you through your wave of high. Hard. Fast. Sending electricity down your veins every time he hits the bullseye of your g-spot. Over and over and-

“H-hey, Sugu-” your teary face manages to look up from the pillow. Gummy walls still spasming around him, “Best out of three?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - FIRST?!

It was a simple favor, really - just a way to help your dear best friend lose his virginity.

To shut up those adorable whines about how much he dreams of feeling your- a pussy wrapped around his cock. And when he looked to you for help with those dark, puppy-dog eyes? Well, how could you ever say no?

Which is why you have Choso splayed out on your mattress, hazy gaze bulging when you straddle his toned hips. Sliding his tight boxers down his thighs - fuck, he was massive. A delicate, innocent pink at his angry head, leaking endless precum all the way down, down, down his creamy length.

“Jus’ the tip, right?” you hum. Cunt throbbing at the sight of his swollen cock twitching up in interest at the mere sound of your sultry tone. “Jus’ to have you feel me?”

“God, yes.” he whispers - barely even audible, when you slot his leaky tip between your puffy folds. Letting your pussy drool your sweet sweet juices all over him. “Yes yes yes hurry please need to feel you- just the tip just the-” Choso’s voice breaks when you just barely press him past that first ring of resistance. “Oh- oh fuuuuck this is what it feels like? Hngh-”

The stretch of his fat head inside was so sinful. So maddening and shit- if this was what it was like with barely half of his tip in, then it drove you insane to wonder what it’d be like if you took in all of him. Smirking, “Mhm? You hah- like this, Cho?”

Fuck, hearing that little nickname right now makes Choso get even girthier, cock swelling painfully to stretch your sloppy hole.

“L-like this?” he asks, voice ragged with genuine disbelief. Barely-lucidly bringing one of your hands up to his face to press a soft, lingering kiss. “Oh, baby, I l-love this.”

He’s inching his thick head in further and further, kissing down your neck wetly.

You’re choking when he starts up a messy, urgent rut of his hips upwards - untimed and sloppy like he didn’t know how to use his unforgiving cock yet, like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. Just bare, shallow little thrusts that have your hole stretching out and molding to the shape of his needy tip.

Babbling, “Fuck, what’ve you done to me? How can you f-feel so good- how can you-”

Over and over and-

“O-oh, Cho!” you gasp when he accidently brushes up against one of your hidden sweet spots. Eyes going wide, jaw falling into an awestruck “oh” at as you buck and clamp down so fucking tight around him. Begging, “There- fuck fuck there wan’ more- hngh wan’ more of you, please.”

The only response you’re getting is a string of incoherent profanity. Shit, Choso thinks he’s gonna pass out - that he might just paint your pretty pussy white already.

But because he couldn’t stand the embarrassment of that, he wraps his big arms so tight around your waist. Running a palm to cradle your scalp, he hisses when he presses a kiss to your forehead, “Can’t.” And the word has barely left his sagging lips before Choso gives an unplanned, jagged thrust up into your cunt. Body moving before his mind to bully his swollen cock inside, spreading your puffy folds along the veins down his length. “Can’t- just the tip- shouldn’t.”

“S’okay, Cho–”

“But-”

You were his best friend. His favorite person - and he always did feel guilty for thinking of you, cock in hand, on those long lonely nights. So this is the last thing he should be doing.

But, oh it was like a dam had been broken open, and despite his words, Choso’s mouth is salivating at the thought.

Pushing in sweet, desperate bucks of his hips to just drag your sloppy pussy down deeper and deeper - unknowingly, all the way down to his soaked base. Yet Choso was still pushing and pushing deliriously.

“Just the tip just the- shouldn’t do this-” he pants against your open mouth, nipping and sucking on your bottom lips. “Only ever ngh- dreamed of this.” Each word is punctured by a rough ram into your dripping cunt, molding your gummy walls to that upwards curve of his dick. Reeling out a honeyed ah! ah! ah! from you every time his pretty veins were pulsing against your sensitive spots. “Shouldn’t ohhh I shouldn’t- fuck!”

Choso loses the end of his sentence - and his sanity - when he dares take a greedy look downwards.

Being met with the absolutely obscene sight of your poor cunt being split apart on him. Realizing he was now very much past his tip, veering into the dangerous territory of your pussy lips kissing his toned pelvis, milking him until there was nothing more.

“Heh.” His glassy eyes look up when you giggle, “So much for hah- ‘jus’ the tip’, huh?”

Choso grins - a languid, pussydrunk grin you never thought you could even imagine on your sweet best friend. Purring lowly, “Oh, my girl.Because of you m’never gonna be satisfied with just the tip ever again.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Please, please, please

“Apology not accepted, brat.” Sukuna spits out over your blubbering cries, still holding your squirming hips so stupidly still around his fat tip. Nothing more, nothing less. “Nuh uh, this is all yer gonna get if you wanna hah- complain so much.”

Now, Ryomen Sukuna is a strong man, always has been. He hasn’t missed those concerned looks strangers give you when he’s out in public with you, or the way your coworkers’ eyes widened in shock when they first saw him.

The strongest - for everything except you.

So, when he overhears you gossiping with your little friends about how maybe he’s too big - how it’s a bit of a hassle to lose your ability to walk every night - then, well, that spiteful little part of himself decides it’s time to give you exactly what you want.

You’re wriggling your ass downwards, gummy walls sucking him up trying to sink further and further down Sukuna’s dizzying cock, “B-but Kuna-”

“B-b-but Kuna.” He mocks in a pitch higher than normal, two thick fingers coming up to squish your tear-stained cheeks together into an embarrassing pout. Smirking down greedily, “But what? You were runnin’ this pretty mouth earlier, what happened now, hm? Too cockdrunk?”

And fuck, he didn’t expect you to be in the state to think up an answer to that question - he didn’t think you even heard it at first, too busy trying to milk his cock for all he was worth.

But oh you always did surprise him.

Teary, overstimulated gaze locking with his dark one when you give an unsteady, determined nod. Whimpering, “F-fuck yes.”

Unbeknownst to himself - and his little scheme to punish you - your lewd little answer has Sukuna’s hips jutting forwards. Bullying past your gummy resistance to spearhead just a tinge more than his fat head into your sloppy entrance.

“O-oh.” he groans, dropping his head feverishly into the crook of your neck. Trying to get back some control over his own body, but shit just an ounce of the way your slutty cunt was massaging every ridge and curve of his swollen cock and the king of curses just breaks. He’s biting his sharp canines down on your lower lip in what can barely be called a kiss. Messy. “Oh you little minx. You evil, evil-” He gives a punctuated half-thrust. “-brat.”

And that’s all it takes for Sukuna to be drunk on your cunt. To sink his achingly hard cock in so deep that it has his heavy balls smacking your ass, his leaky tip pressing a harsh peck to your poor cervix.

Deeper.

Hips immediately snapping forwards to replicate those purposeful, long slams you were tittering about just earlier today.

“You’re so fuckin- hah-” he sucks in a shaky breath when you clench down on him hard. Absent-mindedly, Sukuna toys his free thumb down to roll against your neglected clit, wondering if this was part of your evil plan. Spitting against your kiss-bitten lips, “-unfair. Riling me up, complaining about it being ‘too much’ n’ then taking it like such a slut.”

It’s all you can do to moan brokenly, “Wasn’t- wasn’t complaining.”

For this, you’re getting a punishing smack! to your ravaged clit, immediately followed by an apologetic circle of Sukuna’s fingers. Harder. “So now you’re gonna ngh- lie while m’fucking you like this?”

As if to prove his point - and maybe drag out a few more of your honeyed cries on his cock - he’s reeling his hips back. Letting his throbbing veins massage against every inch of your elastic walls until it was just the ends of his thick head left inside you now. “Really? Real confident for someone that was just begging for my cock, y’know.”

“N-no!” you gasp, panicked. Your ankles manage to lock around Sukuna’s sculpted waist, digging into those sinful dimples at the end of his spine to push his length in deeper - just the way you liked it. “No no no- ngh was a compliment. A compliment I swear! Was bragging ah-”

He leers oh so cockily, “Oh really?”

Only growing at your urgent nod, your glossy lips falling into such a pretty pout, “Promise. Would n-never hah- complain about your cock, Kuna.”

Fuck, did you know how to drive him insane.

To have him playing right into your pretty lil’ hands.

Because each and every word spilling out of your delirious mouth has Sukuna fucking you deeper and deeper into the mattress. So animalistic with the way he was plunging into you like some glorified sextoy, the curve of his dick rubbing spots inside your gummy walls that you didn’t even know existed. That have you seeing stars. That have him forgetting that stupid promise of “just the tip”.

Too big? Fucking hilarious, you were lucky if you could make it out alive tonight with the way all the blood in his massive body was rushing to Sukuna’s dick, stretching him to an obscene girth.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he’s grunting with each nudge against your cervix, your g-spot. Bruising you from the inside out. “Well then…” He’s wrestling your nodding face towards him, thrusts growing more and more erratic with each moan. “-let’s give you some more to brag about, hm?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - (Mind)break!

No one would believe their ears if they could see the great Gojo Satoru right about now. That Gojo Satoru? The strongest? The cocky lil’ shit that upturned desks and skipped out on every single jujutsu meeting?

Of course, it wasn’t the same Gojo Satoru that came straight to you after a particularly taxing jujutsu mission, eyes wide - crazed, a feral grin on him that’d never left. Of course, it wasn’t the same Gojo Satoru that had to take only one look at you before ripping your poor clothes off, pent-up jujutsu still thrumming behind his fingers where he folded you into such a mean mating press. Making you cum over and over selfishly while he hasn’t even once.

Of course.

But here he was - around your third orgasm, his face buried nose-deep at your erratic pulse, powerful hips jerky and stuttering while he tried to keep his swollen cock controlled, buried inside your heavenly cunt still only till that pretty pink slit at his head.

Because this was Gojo Satoru, and he didn’t want to break you just yet.

“Aww, look at you- fuck!” Gojo whines when the tip of his sensitive cock brushes up against another one of your sweet spots. Reeling back ever-so-slightly to spit right onto your bulging cunt once. Twice. “Fuck just look at you, sweetheart.”

And before you can react, a large hand is enveloping your cheeks. Sending a buzz of electricity from his touch to where he was tilting your head down, forcing you to look at the obscene sight below you.

Your ravaged cunt all messy and glistening with the excess of Gojo’s saliva, slobbering even filthier down the head of his unforgiving cock. Red and angry, each slow, controlled grind just begging for you to take him whole.

The little gasp that leaves your candied lips is enough for Gojo to moan gutturally, “Ohhh look at that- look at that. Makes me wanna hah-” His ragged words trail off, thighs flexing like they were about to shove himself up, up, up and- only for your boyfriend to gather whatever’s left of his sanity with a sharp intake of breath. “-wanna break you.”

Stubbornly, you jut out your kiss-bitten lower lip, grinding your hips up pathetically to try and take some more greedy inches for yourself. “Why not? Wan’ more than jus’ the tip, gimme ngh all of it.”

“Heh, my needy girl. So- so cock-hungry, huh?” Gojo spits, another steady stream of saliva hitting your waiting tongue- wait, when did you even let it loll out like that? He plows on, thumb gliding over to gloss it over your lips. “Wish I could- ohhh I wish so bad. But m’too fuckin’ hah- worked up after that mission. Can’t handle- can’t control hngh-”

Each word sounds stilted - pained. And Gojo’s giving minute, almost-unidentifiable thrusts puncturing each one. Slowly but surely losing his sanity as well as his restraint.

If either of you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed that glowing tinge in his hazy eyes, the little crackles of purple lighting dancing down his milky skin.

But, no, instead you’re whining, “I don’t care, Toru–”

“No you d-don’t get to do that.” he gasps, eyes going wide at that unfair nickname. Giving a dangerous half-thrust into your gummy walls. “No no no no you don’t get to do that. M’only giving you the tip right now.” And you’re being gifted a messy little graze of Gojo’s plump lips against your own, hissing when you bite down. “Don’t know the ngh- extent of my power. S’unstable- could kill- hah destroy-”

“You talk too much.”

Gojo can sense it before it happens - of course he can. And he knows he should stop it, for the safety of you and less importantly, the entirety of Japan. He knows he should keep fucking you with just his fat head, keeping as much composure as possible.

But Gojo lets it happen anyway.

Letting those wobbly legs of yours dangling around his broad shoulders lock in an instant to just nudge his body forwards. Sighing when you feel the stretch of his rock-hard cock making their mark past his thick head.

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining too bright that they burst into little shards of energy.

Yet it doesn’t matter to you or Gojo, his electric-blue eyes burning bright into the darkness. Tiny flicks of lightning illuminating your ruined bedroom as his entire body stiffens for a split-second. Jolting like he’d come to life - and in one, fluid movement, he was buried inside your tight pussy. Fully.

Fuck, Gojo’s stretched so taut. Something ugly, dangerous snapping in him when that’s all it takes for him to be releasing thick rope after rope of his seed. Cumming and cumming so hard it’s like he can’t stop. Won’t stop.

Knows he won’t for a very, very long time even when you reach your high for the fourth time that night. Milking him for every single drop.

Even when his cum paints your gummy walls a white to match his hair, filling you up so much that it overspills. Forming a lewd little pool below that makes you tremble impossibly deeper down Gojo’s still hard cock.

And the only thing you can hear in the moment the low crackle of jujutsu in the suddenly pressurized air, and the sinful squelches as Gojo steadies his hips back dangerously. Readying. Letting out a raspy, barely-audible whisper, “If we make it out of this alive, remind me to buy you plan B, sweetheart.”

A/N. Tony stop writing Higuruma cameos challenge GO! (Failed)

Plagiarism not authorized.

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lookingforcactus · 2 months

Text

Because I'm feeling whimsical,

What the fuck do you mean that's a quilt??? Round 2

All quilts are contest winners from the quilt show Road to California, 2022. You can see these quilts and the other winners from that year here.

Best of Show Quilt

Title: Harlequinade Maker: Rebecca Prior Quilter: Jackie Brown Design Basis: Maker's Original Design "Harlequinade" is a theatrical quilt filled with visual clues guiding viewers to discover a hidden story. Inspired by Venetian Carnival masks and commedia del'arte characters, the quilt features the antics of Harlequin, the trickster, who has his own ideas about freedom and fun!

Director's Choice

Title: Welcome Home Maker: David Taylor Quilter: David Taylor Design Basis: Original image by Margo Clabo, used with permission I first saw this image from friend Margo Clabo more than a decade ago. It took years to convince her to let me adapt her photo into a quilt. The image it depicts is especially sentimental for her. The challenge for myself was to create a pieced pictorial background and recreate a traditionally pieced quilt by using my hand appliqué technique. The project size was overwhelming, but I'm thrilled with the finished quilt. So is Margo. Time to exhale.

Note: To be clear, that is not a photo with a quilt in it, that WHOLE THING is a quilt.

Best Machine Stationary Quilting

Title: Emerald labyrinth Maker: Kumiko Frydl Quilter: Kumiko Frydl Design Basis: Maker's Original Design As a starting point I used an image from the entrance to the EL Barkookeyeh Mosque in Cairo. Thinking of an elegant and intricate garden I added bursts of natural color and filled the area between the large elements of the design with finer ornament inspired by butterflies and plants. I set the circular image in a rectangular frame with a subdued complimentary design of rippled reflective pools.

1st Place: Animal

Title: Woodland Wilds Maker: Ann Horton Quilter: Ann Horton Design Basis: Maker's Original Design My morning hikes in the woodland hills of our northern California home inspired this quilt. The rabbits are always alert for danger. This machine appliqued, thread painted and embroidered view through a window is surrounded by wild flowers on hand dyed silk and again surrounded by other wild birds and animals. I love my wilds things in the woods!

1st Place: Human Image

Title: The Memories That Remain Maker: Lynn Czaban Quilter: Lynn Czaban Design Basis: Library of Congress Photos - LC-USF33-006183MI and LC-USF33-0061 I am fascinated by the human face and our ability to communicate without uttering a single word. The Portuguese word 'saudade' meaning a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for something or someone that one cares for and loves. Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might never be had again.

1st Place: Naturescape

Title: Desert In Spring Maker: Andrea Brokenshire Quilter: Andrea Brokenshire Design Basis: Maker's Original Design My Mom and I embarked on an epic travel trip we named our "Thelma and Louise Adventure" In Palm Springs, CA we visited the Living Desert Botanical Garden. This quilt is inspired by one of the photographs I took that spring day of a Prickly Pear Cactus in full bloom. I loved the leathery texture of the cactus leaves (paddles) and the almost translucent citron yellow blossoms.

2nd Place: Animal

itle: Not Today Maker: Kestrel Michaud Quilter: Kestrel Michaud Design Basis: Maker's Original Design The chase is on! The Roadrunner is after his next meal, chasing a Common Collared Lizard through a steampunk junkyard. The desert is a favored dumping ground for the detritus of progress, even in a fantasy world. A steam-powered industrial revolution creates iron refuse and pieces of broken machinery have been left to decay in dry desert air. That doesn’t bother these critters. To them, this is home. Will that lizard wind up as dinner? Not today!

2nd Place: Human Image

Title: Declaration of Independence - Voices of Freedom Maker: Nancy Prince Quilter: Terri Taylor Design Basis: Reproduction of John Trumbull's Painting The quilt is a reproduction of John Trumbull's painting which depicts the moment in history when the first draft of the Declaration of Independence was presented to the Second Continental Congress on June 28, 1776. The quilt front and back were created in Photoshop and custom printed on fabric. Four thousand hours over 4 years was necessary to create the quilt. The back captures the story of the Declaration and its signers.

Note: I'm not at all patriotic. But credit where credit is due. That's a fucking quilt.

3rd Place: Animal

Title: Midnight Flight Maker: Joanne Baeth Quilter: Joanne Baeth Design Basis: Maker's Original Design Several years ago we had an injured Great Horned Owl roosting in our willow tree during the day. I took several pictures and was inspired to create him in fabric. The background features a painted sky, old buildings, melting snow and a rabbit on the run The foreground is the swooping owl which was constructed by painting and inking each feather and thread painting over fabrics and needle punched wool rovings

3rd Place: Naturescape

Title: Day Into Night Maker: Deb Deaton Quilter: Deb Deaton Design Basis: Maker's Original Design Inspired from photo by Robert Murray with his permission. When the Arizona sun begins to set, the sky comes alive. I saw this photo and knew the splendor of this landscape needed to be captured with fiber! Sky is hand painted. Raw edge applique. Mixed media used: oil pastels, color pencils, inks to enhance the fabrics and create more dimension. Cheesecloth: painted to create spikes of cactus. Tulle used to capture the sunrays. Machine quilted.

#quilting #quiltblr #fiber crafts #fabric art #fiber art #fibercraft #textiles #quilt art #quilt making #quilts #textile art #fibre arts #nature #nature art

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gothgoblinbabe · 17 days

Text

She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, afab reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now.

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week.

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again.

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand.

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play.

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie.

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Definitely not my type of girl.

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs.

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly.

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence.

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers.

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed.

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing.

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice.

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently.

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable.

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more.

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne.

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.”

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?”

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people.

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter.

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way.

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing.

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him.

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants.

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs.

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you.

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time.

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before.

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.”

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze.

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately.

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out.

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him.

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?”

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.”

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started.

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed.

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name.

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you.

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind.

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you.

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top.

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath.

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him.

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck.

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go.

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck.

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back.

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking.

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs.

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name.

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing.

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers.

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?”

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing.

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him.

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking.

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist.

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust.

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back.

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out.

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size.

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him.

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress.

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again.

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you.

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful.

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip.

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again.

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds.

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm.

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be.

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine fic #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine smut #wolverine

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yawnderu · 7 months

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>Simon has a neet weirdo as a best friend Or Simon Riley lets his best friend see his naked body for art references.

This wasn't the way Simon was expecting to spend his PTO; naked in his best friend's bed with his hand covering his soft cock, hoping not to make you uncomfortable as you took notes of his body's reactions.

“Can you like... get hard?” He was trying his best not to get hard, going as far as to think about gross things he's seen throughout the years to distract himself from the feeling of your nails raking up and down his bare stomach, defined muscles tensing and bulging beneath your palm.

“'S not how it works.” He grumbled out, tired brown eyes looking away from you. Simon isn't embarrassed— not at all, he's simply not used to someone inspecting him the way you are, curious eyes fully focused on his body, taking in every single tattoo and scar, living proof of how many times he's kicked death's ass.

“Well, just think about... I don't know, tits.” He lets out a dry chuckle at the awkwardness in your tone, trying your best to keep it professional in the name of art. He looks down at you with pure amusement the moment he sees your hand drifting up, tracing the outline of his defined, muscular pecs.

You take a second to fully admire the view in front of you, absent-mindedly starting to play with his erect nipple, not registering the way his breath hitches. Simon looks like a gladiator— lightly tanned skin making his rippling muscles stand out greatly, becoming the virtual image of ancient Greek fantasies, a plethora of scars showing how often he crosses the edge of death.

“Gettin' a bit touchy there.” His playful tone doesn't save the mild embarrassment, about to let go of his nipple before his rough, calloused hand grasps your wrist, encouraging you to keep touching him.

“'S working.” Simon's other hand moves out of the way slightly, just barely enough for you to see his hardening cock, veins starting to become more prominent along his long, meaty shaft. He doesn't protest when you move his hand out of the way, getting a perfect look at him.

“That's... oddly interesting.” The awkwardness coming from you never fails to amuse him, only making his ego inflate by the second, even when you look down at your notebook to keep taking notes of his body's reactions.

“Does it feel weird to get a boner?” He thinks about it for a few seconds before shaking his head, holding back a laugh at the blunt questions. In the name of art, she says.

“Not weird, just... I don't know, bird.” The expectant look that you give him distracts him for a second, trying to think of a better way to explain it.

“Feels good. Bit tingly most of the time, and you can feel it... y'know, grow.” Explaining what getting a boner feels like isn't the weirdest thing he's done for you, half-lidded brown eyes focused on the way you simply nod and keep taking notes, using his words as inspiration for the erotic novels he knows you write.

The room is almost quiet for a few minutes, Simon's breathing becoming harder being the only sound, feeling your soft hands caressing every single inch of his skin, feeling him up more than he can take... and ultimately edging him without even being aware, stopping to take notes every once in a while.

“I can show you how a man jacks off, too. For the sake of art, yeah?”

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cy-cyborg · 2 months

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So, there's a lot I want to say about the paralypics, but every time I try I just... can't articulate what I want to say without it turning into a monster of a post that puts my writing advice posts to shame lol. This includes in response to the anonymous asks I got on the topic btw. So I'm going to try and summarise my thoughts here.

As someone who was working towards the Rio paralympics - who was basically one of the people they were actively training to be the next paralympians and who got to go if their choice first athletes had to drop out, the Olympics and paralympics are a... touchy subject for me. I loved playing. I loved my sport. I loved the people I played with. I loved the people I played against. But the way the public and people in power treats disabled athletes sucks. It Really really sucks. and it hurts to talk about.

The vast, vast majority of us aren't paid. We are expected to train at the same intensity as the Olympians with none of the breaks and none of the support to do so, resulting in injuries that are disabling in and of themselves, while juggling normal jobs. many of the paralympians are also in school or at university as well. both schools and jobs see these elite athletes as dedicated hobbiests at best.

I had a friend who were fired from their job because they were denied time off to compete at the paralypics and well, if i had to choose between the paralympics or stay at a shit job paying minimum wage, I know which one I'd pick, and so she didnt have a job when she came back. I have friends who are still in the closet because their sponsors would drop them if they came out as gay, who ended years-long relationships to keep the funding that allowed them and their teams to compete - funding that just covered the costs of travel by the way. They never saw a cent of it themselves, but it was the difference between us having to pay $50 each for our plane tickets and accommodation and having to pay $2,000Aud + for every away game. I have friends who were supposed to go to Tokeyo but were kicked off the teams weeks before the games because of a rule change that decided they weren't disabled enough anymore, wasting years of work with absolutely no warning. They weren't even given the decency of an appology from the people who made the call. Several went through terrifying mental health spirals over it. It was their life's work, gone. I saw so many friends just give up because their disabilities were "too hard to classify" into the International Paralympic Commity's boxes and who were made to feel they weren't welcome by the system spouting off about its diversity and inclusion and empowerment of disabled people.

And then with all that, the best we can hope for is for the social media teams to turn us into a joke for ableds to laugh at or into inspiration porn to make them feel good about themselves - because at least theyre not us. Because obviously, there are no other options in how to show us/sarcasm.

My phone doesn't even have "paralympics" as a recognised word. I have a Samsung. The company that is currently at the paralympics using them as a marketing opertunity. We aren't even recognised as a word in the phones made by the company that is currently using the paralympics as a marketing opportunity. The phones they're giving the athletes won't even recognise the name of the event that they got it at. If I've spelt it wrong, it's because it autocorrects it every time I try to spell it right, and im dyslexic and can't see the difference until I stare at it for a minute or so.

I just... this isn't even scratching the surface of my thoughts. But I wanted to say at least some of it. It will be the last I'm going to talk about it, at least until the event is over.

#disability #disabled #paralympic #parasports #disability sports #ableism

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reyalvr · 3 months

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SHE’S MINE | 00

CATCH ME, I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME.

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, chaotic fluff, smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan, RUMORS isn’t related to anything that happens in this series

word count ┊ 798

author’s note ┊ YAY i finally wrote it! i really love the fake dating/marriage convenience trope and i’ve been itching to write it with kenji. this is highly inspired by one my favorite books of all time, terms & conditions by lauren asher! if you enjoy fake dating i highly recommend reading it. as mentioned at the top, this is only the prologue! i'll be putting out part one and the series masterlist asap hehe... as always, happy reading!

prev. | next

SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED IF ANYTHING YOU SAID EVER STUCK WITH KEN. For the past year and a half, you had the supposed “dream life” that every assistant yearned for. It confused you, really, as you tried to ponder on what part of your job was envious. Were the late nights drafting NDA breaches so desirable? What about the press statements after altercations, were those résumé worthy? You let out a deep sigh as you watched Ken from the TV in his dressing room, crossing your arms as you sunk deeper into the couch.

He was on a press tour for his latest collaboration, his overconfident persona charming everyone left and right. You had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he used his signature flair to charm the show’s host. At least he was sticking to the script… for the most part. He wore the product, threw in a few adlibs, and of course, flirted. Be it a talk show host or a random photographer on the street, Ken always found a way to leave people smitten with him- save except you.

It’s not like you were actively trying to hate him, he just made it so easy. At first you thought it was just some awkward phase, like he was just trying to adjust to working with a new team. But then he just kept doing the same things over and over again. A brawl with an opposing team member? Just another Sunday night. A rumor about having a fling with yet another supermodel? Sounds just about right.

“I mean of course I have to thank my team,” Ken’s voice cut through your train of thought. “It was a dream of mine to play for the Giants as a kid, now I actually get to do it.”

Tone it down, asshole. You thought to yourself, noting the sarcasm laced in his words. Of course the general public wouldn’t have caught on, but you had no doubt his coach and the other players would. Then again, he’d been relatively untouchable because of his rank in the sports world. You poked your tongue into your cheek, shaking your head as you sat through the rest of his interview. The clock on the wall counted down the remaining time, the bright red numbers casting a reflection on the screen. Two minutes left, and all he had to do was to keep the act up…

…Until he didn’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen next.

“Now I don’t want to hold here any longer, but you know I have to ask it,” The host teased, almost like an overexcited child ready to tattle. “Any special someone back home?”

Ken chuckled, just like he usually did when asked the question. “Cheeky question,” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow raised slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “What if there was?”

“Well, is there?” The host pushed, his tone eager to have the Ken Sato answer such a juicy question. He gestured toward the crowd before he continued. “I mean there are a lot of fans here today who would love to know more…”

“Yeah? And if I said yes, then what?” He replied, his smile growing brighter and his eyes shining.

The crowd cheered even harder, itching to find out the truth. You shared the same sentiments, trying to figure out what the hell Ken was up to now. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, why didn’t anyone know about it? You stood up straight now, your right hand deathly gripping the remote. What the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kenji Sato? Your inner voice seemed to yell as you waited for him to speak up.

“I mean only time will tell, yeah?” The host replied, leaning back in his seat. “C’mon Ken, it’s not nice to keep secrets.”

Ken mimicked the host’s moves, leaning back into his sofa chair as well. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he fiddled with his fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek, and though it was brief you caught it. You knew that look; his look of contemplation. Your grip on the remote was still taut as your breathing seemed to quicken the longer he waited. Granted it was only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours.

He tilted his head slightly then, his eyes staring directly at the camera. It slowly zoomed closer to focus entirely on him, and he let out a small laugh before he finally replied. His gaze was strong, and it almost felt like he was actually looking at you.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He finally said, throwing in a lovesick smile for good measure. “And she’s the best damn thing in my life right now.”

#✎ maxi’s works #ultraman #ultraman: rising #ken sato #kenji sato #ken sato x you #kenji sato x you #ultraman x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #ken sato fluff #kenji sato smut #kenji sato fluff #ken sato smut #fake dating #fake marriage #fluff #smut

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yuujispinkhair · 1 month

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CAUGHT

You don't know when things changed or why, but at some point, you started to run not because you wanted to escape but because you wanted Sukuna to catch you.

King of Curses!Sukuna x Reader (female). 3k words. 18+, smut, dubcon/noncon in the beginning because Reader was given to Sukuna as a gift against her will. Later it turns into primal play, which both enjoy. Getting chased and caught by Sukuna, rough sex, light choking, Sukuna bites Reader, creampie, squirting, breeding. Sukuna is portrayed in human form (only two arms etc). Minors don't interact. Dividers by me.

This story is inspired by this beautiful fanart by my lovely friend @sweetlandspos. Thank you for blessing me with this sexy picture!

Your breath comes out in soft puffs as you run light-footedly through the forest, only wrapped in a thin, almost see-through white silk robe. The skin on your arms is raised in goosebumps, but not because you are cold. It's the thrill of the chase, anticipating the big, terrifying King to catch you and take you. The thrill of not knowing when exactly he hunts you down and overpowers you. Your lips open in an excited chuckle. Your nipples are stiff and rub against the delicate fabric of your robe. Desire is pulsing hotly between your legs.

You have lost count of how many times you have already run from Sukuna, only to get captured again and brought back to his shrine.

In the beginning, you ran because you were truly trying to escape from this powerful, scary man you had been given to as a gift. Ryomen Sukuna, The King of Curses. The most powerful sorcerer to ever live. Everyone groveled in fear when Sukuna visited a town. He could easily kill anyone and ground the whole place to dust with just a flick of his hand. So, people tried to please him by offering their loyalty, making sacrifices in his name, and bringing him gifts.

And you were one of those gifts.

The only daughter of your town's most prosperous merchant. Your father has always been someone who knows how to negotiate, and he took his chance when he saw Sukuna marching toward your town. He had you dressed up in your most beautiful clothes, your skin adorned with gold and jewels, and then you were led toward the man known as The King of Curses.

Sukuna was pleased with the gift. He placed a large, strong hand on your upper arm and pulled you to his side as a broad smirk spread over his striking features with the black markings. He took you with him and told you he would make you his little bride one day if you behaved well enough. Until then, you would be his favorite pastime.

Your town still stands. No blood was shed. The only sacrifice that was made was you.

Maybe it was selfish, but you were scared of this powerful, cruel man and angry that your father had just offered you to Sukuna as if you were a thing, forcing you to give yourself to Sukuna almost every night so he could find relief in your body after a busy day.

And so you did the selfish thing and tried to escape. You sneaked out at dusk because it was the easiest time to slip away, and there was still enough light so you could find your way through the forest surrounding Sukuna's shrine.

The first time you ran, you came as far as the first line of trees, already thinking you made it. But then you heard the heavy footsteps behind you.

He didn't run. He just walked casually as if he was in no hurry at all. Just a leisurely stroll through the forest. It somehow made things even more terrifying. Only hearing the slow but heavy footsteps of this huge and dangerous man. Hearing the twigs snap beneath his feet. And his low, velvety voice calling out to you, taunting you, making fun of you for thinking you could run from him.

"Are you a little bunny? How amusing that you think you can outrun me. Come on, little bunny, give me your best!"

Sukuna laughed. And you ran as fast as your feet could carry you, your panicky breaths loud in your ear, your heart pounding so fast that you felt delirious. Fear was making the hair on your neck stand up, adrenaline rushing in your veins, making you run faster than you ever had before in your life.

But, of course, it wasn't fast enough. Sukuna let you run yourself to exhaustion that night, always casually strolling behind you as he basked in your fear. An experienced hunter, confident and dangerous.

When he finally had enough of the little cruel game, he snapped his fingers, and you only managed to let out a terrified squeal as you felt his magic wrap around you, paralyzing you. He made time stand still just with a snap of his fingers! His power terrified you, made you weep tearlessly as you stood there frozen in midstep, trapped helplessly as the King of Curses slowly walked up to you.

Sukuna's voice was dripping with amusement and sadistic joy when he stopped behind you,

"Oh, little one, I didn't take you for a playful one. But I am not complaining. This was a nice little distraction. But it's enough now. We're returning to the shrine, and I will show you your place."

He snapped his fingers again, and you stumbled forward, gasping as you caught your balance and instinctively started running again. You only got a few steps away before a pair of muscular arms wrapped around you and lifted you from the ground, even as you screamed and struggled. It was a futile attempt, of course. The King had caught you. You stood no chance.

Sukuna wasn't gentle when he threw you over one of his broad shoulders and carried you back to the shrine. And he also wasn't gentle when he pressed you down on his bed later that night and took you with even more force than usual.

One of his large hands captured both of your wrists and pinned them above your head while his heavy, muscular body pressed you down, knocking the air out of you with every hard thrust. You screamed when Sukuna sank his teeth into your flesh, deep enough to leave his mark on you forever. He healed the wound afterward, but only so much that it would still leave a scar, marking you as his for the rest of your life. A reminder of your failed attempt at running from him.

Maybe for anyone else, it would have been enough reason to give up and be obedient. But not for you. Only three nights later, you sneaked out again, trying your luck again.

And again and again after that. And Sukuna always captured you again.

You don't know when things changed or why, but at some point, you started to run not because you wanted to escape but because you wanted Sukuna to catch you. You wanted him to drag you back to his shrine and fuck you hard into his bed, showing you where you belonged.

"See, that's your place. Under me, stuffed to the hilt with my cock and my seed. You are mine. You are going nowhere. You cannot run from me, little one."

But you took his punishment all too willingly. And all his words did was make you throb around him needily, reaching your high even before him.

Was this still considered punishment when the one getting punished enjoyed it? When you squealed delightedly into the silk pillow that Sukuna pressed your face into as he took you from behind? When you creamed all over him when his hand tangled painfully in your hair and he fucked you savagely, with hard, brutal thrusts, while his sweat and spit dripped onto your naked skin?

He said you could never run from him, and yet you tried it all the time. It became a game. A game of catch. Sukuna was the hunter, and you were the very willing prey.

Your heart still raced wildly anytime you got chased by Sukuna. All your senses were heightened. Your veins sang with adrenaline as you ran through the forest, but your skin was also tingling with excitement, and your thighs were slick from the warm wetness between them, gathering there in anticipation of Sukuna claiming you again.

But you weren't the only one who enjoyed it. As tired as Sukuna sometimes looked after a day of meeting with people who wanted something from him, he was always fully alert and enthusiastic when it came to chasing you through the forest.

His steps were light, his laughter ecstatic, and his beautiful face alight with excitement. Just like his body was brimming with desire. You could feel his hardness pressing against you anytime he captured you, just as aroused as you were. The chase awakened something feral in both of you.

Sometimes, he didn't even wait until he carried you home but just took you right there on the forest floor, grunting in your ear as he mounted you like a wild animal, making you cry out and scream your lust into the night.

And now you are running through the forest in your thin silk robe, a delicious mixture of fear and arousal making your blood sing. Sukuna is taking his time today, and it makes the excitement even stronger.

As always, when you run from Sukuna, your senses are sharpened. Your muscles are taut, your body alert with the thrill of the hunt. He could be on you at any moment.

You wonder what he will do tonight. Use his magic or his strength? Will he tackle you to the ground and ram his cock into your heat, unwilling to wait? Or will he carry you back to the shrine, taking his sweet time to feel you kick and squirm in his strong arms, playfully fighting him, making both of you even more riled up, until it ends in a frenzied fuck in Sukuna's bed?

You strain your ears, trying to catch the sound of Sukuna's heavy footsteps. But there is nothing.

You frown. Where is he? Did he not notice you leaving? You haven't been exactly silent. You never are nowadays. But even when you really tried to escape and sneaked out without making any noise, he still got wind of it and tracked you down.

So why isn't he behind you?

You have almost reached the other end of the forest, and you slow down to a walking pace, looking over your shoulder expectantly. Hopefully. Longingly.

But there is no sign of Sukuna.

Does he maybe want to drag it out? Wait until you are about to set foot out of the forest, just so he can jump you and drag you back? You have reached the edge of the forest and come to a complete halt.

Your throat feels tight, and your heart is beating way too rapidly. But it's not the thrill of the chase that fills you with fear.

He isn't coming.

You hover uncertainly at the edge of the forest, not knowing what to do. You could keep running. You could make it to the river, steal one of the fisherboats, and disappear forever. Just like you originally planned when you first tried to run from Sukuna. You could do it now. You could be free.

But the problem is you don't want to be.

You let out a shaky breath and turn around. This time, you don't run from Sukuna but towards him. Towards his shrine. Towards his home. Your home.

At least, you hope it still is. Or did he get tired of your constant running? Of your stupid games? Is that why he didn't come to catch you tonight? Did he decide he doesn't want a woman like you who always causes trouble? Did he decide he doesn't want you to be his little bride anymore?

A desperate sob escapes your lips. Your feet move even faster now over the soft forest floor, your heart palpitating with fear because you are scared you are too late and Sukuna won't let you come back to him.

It's later than usual, the night is already falling, wrapping the forest into darkness. But you have walked this path so often that you can easily find your way through the tall trees.

Apart from the sound of your harsh breaths and footsteps, the forest is eerily silent. It's strange, you think. One would assume that you would encounter many forest animals at this time, but you can't see or hear any. It's almost as if they are hiding because they sense a much more dangerous predator nearby.

And then, completely out of the blue, a strong arm wraps around your neck, stopping your run abruptly.

Your piercing scream echoes through the forest. Your heart jumps up to your throat, hammering wildly, stars dancing before your eyes from the sudden shock of getting grabbed like that so unexpectedly. Your hands come up instinctively, trying to pry the large hand off your skin, fingernails digging sharply into it, but to no avail.

A familiar low voice announces smugly,

"Caught you, little one."

"S... Sukuna! I didn't hear you coming!"

Sukuna's hand tightens around your throat, squeezing it lightly, making even more adrenaline flood your already overly sensitive body. But it mixes with relief. He came to catch you! He didn't get tired of you!

He laughs softly, a sound almost like a purr, making the hairs on your arms stand up.

"Hmm, I was just watching tonight. And I saw the most curious thing. A little bunny that wasn't running from me but towards me."

Sukuna's low voice sounds amused. You feel his tall, broad body press against your back. Feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of your robe. He is naked from the waist up, you realize.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, and your vision is blurry. Arousal pulses between your legs, wet and hot, filling you with an all-consuming, primal need for the man behind you. The man who was stalking you through this dark forest. Watching you. Hunting you like prey. The man who knows exactly what you did.

You feel shy suddenly. Caught, but not just in the physical sense. Sukuna knows. He knows that you weren't trying to escape from him. He knows that you so desperately want to be his. He heard you sob when you thought he didn't come for you. He saw you stumble back towards the shrine. Back to him.

It makes you feel exposed. Makes you nervous and light-headed. Your voice comes out hoarsely when Sukuna loosens the tight grip around your neck enough to allow you to speak,

"I must have lost orientation."

You can't see it, but you can hear the smirk in Sukuna's velvety voice,

"You think you are so sly, huh, little one? Do you really think I don't know what you are doing?"

His low voice drops to a seductive whisper when he adds,

"This little bunny wants to get caught."

A large, strong hand twists in the front of your robe, and then he tears it off you in one fluid motion. You gasp when the cold air brushes over your naked skin. But Sukuna's large hand immediately comes up again to grope your breasts, cupping them greedily, squeezing them, his long pointy nails scratching over your hardened peaks teasingly, making you whimper with lust.

The night air is chilly, but Sukuna's tall, broad body is warm, and the kisses he trails from your neck to your shoulder are searing hot, just like the desire coursing through your body.

You moan needily, pressing your naked body against the massive man behind you, feeling his warm skin on yours and the huge, hot hardness between his legs pressing against you, pulsing with arousal.

Your legs are shaking when one of Sukuna's large hands trails down your naked body and pushes between your thighs, cupping your cunt for a moment, just holding you, one hand around your throat, the other on your most intimate body part. Truly caught.

He laughs softly when his long fingers dip into your warm cunt, feeling your creamy wetness, evidence of how much his little bunny loves to get chased by him.

Relief and exhilaration flood your senses. Sukuna caught you! He didn't give up on you! He still wants to keep you!

As if reading your mind, Sukuna leans down, his lips brushing over your hair,

"You were so scared I wouldn't come, huh?"

The words are smug, but his voice is full of something else. Something warm, like affection.

He pulls his hand away from your dripping cunt, letting the night air kiss your swollen clit while Sukuna pushes his trousers down. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your breath coming out in short, weak huffs, and a soft whimper falls from your lips.

And then Sukuna snaps his hips, and a loud gasp escapes your mouth when he pushes the swollen head of his heavy cock into you, stretching your tight cunt open around his manhood. With another roll of his strong hips, he claims you completely, burying himself fully in your tight heat.

He lets out a low groan, his strong arms tightening around your much smaller body, pulling you against him, holding you in place as he ruts into you, taking you while standing up, just like he caught you.

Sukuna's low moans grow louder, just like the filthy wet noises of him claiming his prey, mounting you from behind right here where he caught you, filling the otherwise silent forest with the animalistic, primal sounds of fucking.

You push against Sukuna eagerly, moaning when he snaps his hips even faster, fucking you hard and deep. Giving in to his desires after holding back for so long while he stalked you through this forest.

You reach behind you, needing to touch him, whimpering when you get a hold of Sukuna's taut backside, digging your fingernails into the firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin. Your eyes fall shut, and you lean against him, taking his cock eagerly, mewling and sobbing as the pleasure builds deep inside you.

You feel Sukuna tense up behind you. He growls as his hips buck and he fills you with his hot seed, thick spurt after spurt. And your lustful cries echo through the forest as you reach your high, too, clenching around Sukuna's length, milking him greedily. Your arousal sprays everywhere, over Sukuna's cock and onto the forest floor beneath you, while you cry out his name over and over again like a prayer.

Sukuna doesn't let go of you, even after you both found completion. He is still behind you, naked, buff body pressed against yours, his thick cock still deep inside you, breeding you, showing you that you are still his little bride, pulsing the last drops of his orgasm into you while the first rivulets of his warm seed already run down your thighs.

You lean back against him, pulse fluttering, feeling ecstatic after the hunt and after coming undone with your King in the middle of the dark forest.

You can feel Sukuna's broad, muscular chest rising and falling with every breath. His hand around your neck has loosened its tight grip, and the long fingers with the sharp nails lightly caress your skin. His other hand comes up to cup your forehead, his fingers tugging on your hair, pulling your head back against him.

You are so entirely at his mercy, caught in his strong arms, stuffed with his thick cock. But you feel no fear. You know you are safe in your captor's arms.

Sukuna leans down, humming softly before he presses a possessive yet tender kiss into your hair.

"I will always come to catch you and bring you back home, my little bride, no matter how often you run."

And instead of feeling scared by his promise, a pleased smile lifts your lips.

HE MAKES ME FERAL!! 😭😭

I would be very willing to be Sukuna's little bride and his beloved prey, which he chases through the woods ;)

Thank you so much for this sexy pic, Émilie!! I saw it, and my mind went crazy 💗 I will think about this forever! I hope I could make you smile with this little story!!

And thank you so much to everyone, who read this story!! I hope you enjoyed getting chased by Sukuna ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #jjk smut #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #tw dubcon #tw dark content

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minisugakoobies · 4 months

Text

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted.

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem.

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you.

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around.

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around.

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous?

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye.

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago.

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him.

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late.

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs.

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back.

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that.

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You: It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me?

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort.

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little.

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is.

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one.

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance.

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response.

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing.

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man.

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible.

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not?

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now.

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide.

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge.

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?”

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back.

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands.

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu.

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon.

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it?

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses.

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.”

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close.

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?”

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment.

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now.

“I want what you promised me.”

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.”

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him.

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can.

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.”

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips.

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face.

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel.

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.”

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want.

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation.

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now.

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?”

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat.

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes.

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.”

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you.

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck.

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly.

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo.

“‘Gyu, please.”

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around.

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?”

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.”

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you.

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up.

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements.

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!”

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.”

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids.

“It’ll be something like this.”

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.”

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over.

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!”

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you.

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again.

“Kiss me.”

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.”

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip.

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.”

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands.

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.”

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture?

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.”

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?”

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.”

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?”

“I might have some ideas.”

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

#seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #mingyu smut #svt smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #kim mingyu #fic: cross my heart

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 2 months

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ASL brothers HAIKYUU!! AU!!!!!

Day one of Self Indulgent month for me! I love these three, i love haikyuu, i love killer whales!

(The Naval Academy is this au’s version of marines)

For those who dont know, in Haikyuu (and prob in real life too but in my experience its not as important as they make it in the anime) The "Ace" of the team is the person who primarily scores points via spiking. Theyre the Hard Hitter, basically.

Design talk👇

Originally, i was gonna make their school mascot just "The Pirates" but i couldnt figure out a clever pun with the school name so i scrapped it in favor of an animal mascot. I figured I would have a wider range of puns that way.

I landed on Orcas as the mascot because I think they really embody a pirate way of life. Theyre strong, hang out in groups of a mix of found family and their actual family, hate the rich, and theyre fun loving! And also im a bit biased because theyre my favorite animal, but hey, i said its self indulgent month, didnt I?

Their school name is a play on the word for Killer Whale (Shachi シャチ) and the word for 'knowledge' (Chishiki 知識), i just smashed the two words together. I'm very proud of myself for coming up with that given i dont speak japanese at all.

Anyway, with their designs, I was taking inspiration from orcas to match the design themes of haikyuu. Ace's hair is bleached on the underside to look like the underside of an orca's body, I made ace and sabo's eyes look more whale-like, the clip in sabo's hair is meant to resemble to spots behind orca's eyes, and I tried to make luffy's hair look more like it's round and spiking down more than i usually do.

Ace is wearing a ''way of the ace" shirt in the first picture, Luffy is wearing a shirt that just says "VOLLEY BALL" because i think it would be funny if he wore a bunch of those Zero-context-poorly-translated-random-english-words shirts that theres a bunch of in Asia. Sabo dyes his hair like delinquents do, but it doesnt much look delinquent~y because of how soft it looks. He means to do it to make him look like a delinquent though. Sabo still has his scars in this au, but he uses his hair, arm braces, and leg braces to cover them up. LUFFY AND ACE HAVE FUNKY SOCKS BECAUSE NO ONE CAN TELL THEM (or me) THEY CANT. Sabo wears athletic socks though because he's a debbie downer. He defends himself saying “It’s practical” and Ace and luffy call him “practically a Debbie Downer.”

Luffy is very good at receiving from growing up with Sabo and Ace practicing setting and spiking with eachother and assigning Luffy as Ball Boy. So he got the libero position from that cuz sabo and ace put in a good word for him. Nepotism.

I didn't feel like coming up with designs for them, but Zoro and Bepo are also on their team (theyre in the fifth image sitting on the right of the line of students). Koala and nami are student managers, Robin is the teacher manager, and Franky is the coach. all other straw hats/luffy friends, rev army comrades, and whitebeard brethren are in the stands. Im trying to keep the ages consistent with how they are in canon.

I didnt do a very in depth research, but i couldnt find what Japanese schools have as mascot costumes. and given no one wears any costumes in haikyuu for their team, i can kind of assume they dont use them over there. But unfortunately for them, I'm American. And part of the backbone of our schooling system, is Vaguely Unsettling Mascot Costumes. My sister says my design for it looks like its from Club Penguin, and i find that delightful. [moment of silence for my billions of fallen Puffles, taken from me in The Shutdown] Anyway.

I thought I was clever coming up with the equivalent of the Marines in this au being a Naval Academy. And their mascot being Seals, famously the animal that gets the absolute Worst Of It from orcas. Get shit onnnnn

I believe thats about it, thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

#my art #one piece #sabo #monkey d. luffy #asl brothers #one piece fan art #portgas d. ace #sabo the revolutionary #fire fist ace #straw hat luffy #haikyuu au #asl au #zoro and Bepo are there too #gol d. roger #monkey d garp

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javiscigarette · 8 months

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Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help.

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp.

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time”

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort.

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face.

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out.

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily.

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.

It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea.

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself.

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back.

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm.

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod.

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt.

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing.

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body.

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek.

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.”

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment.

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way”

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.”

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again.

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.”

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile.

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists.

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt.

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing.

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly.

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer.

“I sure do.”

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can.

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath.

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit.

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him.

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now.

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically.

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge.

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth.

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again.

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him.

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless.

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him.

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans.

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick.

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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seouljazzbar · 1 month

Text

GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest.

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry.

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats.

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…”

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties.

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?”

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?”

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat.

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet.

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in.

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.” He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you.

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains.

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.”

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed.

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

#mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #nct smut #nct x reader #seouljazzbar

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