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#and i would cuddle any mutual to sleep with their strap inside me no questions asked
slutcore-starships · 7 months
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just a girlthing
standing before the world
asking if its really too much to ask to have four or five mutuals come over when im all cold and needy to grope me and eat me out and take turns shoving their tongues down my throat and folding me in half and just generally using me like the pillow princess i need to be
and then falling into a big cuddlepile together to conserve heat until morning when we start up again 👉👈
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smackurbeoms · 3 years
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ex.
genre - smut; minho dom / reader sub, unprotected sex, orgasms.
word count: 1.8k
notes: hi there, hei here! this is ny first work here. i'm currently exploring different platforms as to where else i could share my works. i hope you enjoy this work! <33
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Fuck it— you uttered. You were being bombarded by senseless messages, pushing you to get off your feet and go unwind. You can't— and You don't want to. You're too busy thinking about what else you could do, something more purposeful. Recovering from a breakup is not easy. It has only been 6 months since you last saw your ex, and for now, you guess you could say that you've moved on.
A year of love (of course, with a lot of lust) is not easy to get over with. Especially if your first boyfriend is no other than the well-known heartbreaker that fixed himself only for you. Well, the breakup was mutual— you could say that you got tired of each other's toxic habits, but to say the least, he never cheated.
"Y/n, c'mon. You have got to enjoy the party. An hour won't hurt; I'll wait for you, okay?" your best friend called. She doesn't ask for many favors, so it makes you guilty to say no (like for the nth time).
"Fine," you said, ending the call to go shower. You dragged yourself to get ready, and you didn't want to look like a tormented bitch also, so you tried your best to fix up. You grabbed your silk, thin-strapped black body con, which hugged your figure oh so well, and popped on some stilettos that match the look. Your hair was brought character by some big natural waves, along with soft glam makeup as a final touch. Finally, before leaving, you sprayed some of your favorite fragrance— Bvlgari Omnia in Amethyst, to be exact, and you went on your way to the bar.
You went through a crowd of cheering and dancing people, and finally, you met your best friend. A few drinks in, and she's nowhere to be found, which you assume to be making out with some dude he had met over some online dating app or whatever.
You were drinking, still, and you suddenly smelled a familiar scent brushing through your nose. Oh no, This can't be. You turned around to see who it was, and lo and behold, there he was— your ex, Lee Minho.
Minho stood by the high bar table in front of where you were settled, making you parallel to each other. You were trying your best to avoid eye contact, but you, of all people, know how much Minho hates it when someone avoids his gaze. You were chugging down your alcohol, and as you request for another glass to one of the waiters;
"No, thank you. She's not taking any more drinks," your ex said, accompanying you at the table. Yup, he is indeed my ex-boyfriend— Minho is a very stern and protective man, particularly to you, even when you were not yet dating.
"I can drink as much as I want," you replied, causing him you raise his brow at you. "Okay then, drink as much as you want. Only if someone's going to take you home," he negotiated.
"My best friend's out there making out with someone else. Do you actually think someone's going to take me home?" you rebutted. "Exactly my point, y/n. Now don't be a brat and try to be safe for once. No one's going to protect you now."
Fuck. Well, that shit hurt.
You tried to walk out of the situation when the moment you turned around, you bumped into the serving waiter making all the drinks on the tray pouring on to me. Minho, with fast reflexes, took off his coat and immediately covered you with it. "This is why you always need company," he annoyingly uttered. He brought you to his car and drove to his place.
"Cover yourself with my coat," he glared at you. "As if you never saw it," you whispered and did as he said. You both arrived at his studio unit, and Minho immediately pulled you in front of his closet. He rummaged through his closet and handed you his shirt. "Would you mind wearing one of my oversized shirts?" he asked. You nod to his question when deep inside, you felt ecstatic to wear one of Minho's shirts again. "Shit, I don't have extra undies," you said, making him widen his eyes. "You still have...uh...l-lingeries here," he hesitated.
Seeing his kinda flustered figure elated you, so you thought— It wouldn't hurt to tease a little, right?
Without any words, you rummaged through his drawers, and there you found a basket full of Minho's favorite lingeries of yours. You grabbed a red lacy panty forgetting about the bra and hopped straight to the shower. You purposely didn't close the door, and the sound of the water trickling down your skin was enough to make Minho remember all the time you spent in bed. After showering, you realized that you forgot to bring a towel with you, so you just went out naked, making Minho's eyes widen.
"Y-y/n, w-what are you doing?" he said, avoiding to look at you.
"I forgot to bring a towel. Can I borrow one?"
"Yea, sure," he said, immediately got his towel and covered you with it. "Dry me off," you provoked, making him look at you sternly. For a moment, you thought he was a different person as he obeys your commands. He was gently wiping you down with his towel. You can see his ears go red with every second, and as you look down, an evident tent was created by his growing bulge, which was enough to turn you on. You did not notice that you were staring relentlessly at his tent, so to your surprise, you gasp at a finger slipping to your now wet folds.
"I see that I still make you wet," he grinned, circling your clit around, making you releasing soft moans. "M-minho..." you yelped. You realized that you provoked him a little too much. Minho doesn't like you teasing him. It was always him that was the dominant one— the one in control. You grab onto Minho's shoulders as your knees grow weak with all the pleasure. He slightly laughed at you and immediately carried you to his bed. He hovered on top of you, making him settle himself between your folded thighs.
"I was kind of hoping to see you wearing my shirt again because you look good in it, but I've realized you look better without it," Minho said, peppering your face with sweet, light smooches as if he's not gonna fuck you out relentlessly later. You grew impatient as he continues to shower your face and your neck with wet kisses, so you cling onto his neck and kissed him. Minho, getting the signal, slipped his tongue inside your mouth wherein both your tongues were playing blissfully with each other.
In time, he was marking your neck, and his right hand was groping one of your boobs while the other was busy fingering you deeply. It began harder and harder to suppress your moans, and your lower lip was starting to taste rusty due to his and your biting.
"Keep moaning for me, baby. I want to hear them," he said, but you wanted to tease. "Make me," you said in between your breathy moans. Minho grinned at your response and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He lifted your thighs up and knelt down in front of your intimacy. His kisses were traveling down from the back of your knee, to your thighs, down to your core. As you felt Minho's lips in your heat, you couldn’t help but arch your back and moan with pleasure. Your moans were getting louder as you come closer to your high, and Minho flicking his tongue inside you was doing no help at all.
"You're so fucking wet for me," he said, licking you still. "I'm gonna c-cum..." you moaned. As expected, Minho didn't let you release just yet.
"Not yet, baby," he said, standing up and stripping down his clothes. As he took off his boxers, his erected dick sprung up, making you hunger to ram them inside of you.
"Suck," he commanded. You didn't need to be told twice as you kneel and started to suck him in. You should be teasing the hell out of him first, but you couldn't resist the sight of his warm hard cock inside your mouth. You start bobbing your head as he guides you with his hands. Deep throats are his weakness, so you kept on doing them while looking at him. He threw his head back due to the pleasure, and you kept on sucking.
"Fuck," he groaned, lifting you up and back to his bed. With no intro, he rammed his whole length inside of you, causing you to scream to the pleasure. "M-Minho..." you moaned, making him slam himself harder. "You're still so fucking tight around me," he whispered to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
"On all fours," he again commanded. You turned your back on him, and he again slipped his cock inside of you and fucked you relentlessly. His girth stretching you out, and you couldn’t help but moan at the shaking experience he has been bringing you.
"Fuck, yes. Keep on clenching y/n. Just like that...
"Ride," he said. Minho laid down his bed as you sit on top of his member. You grind on top of him as his hands hold your waist. Seeing his beautiful, well-structured face turns you on more, finally making you insert in length in you. You lowered yourself slowly, and as you sink yourself, Minho pulled and embraced you, pumping relentlessly in and out of you. You moan by his ears, and at this point, you couldn’t help it anymore.
"Minho, fuck. I can't take it anymore. I'm gonna..." before even finishing your sentence, he hovered on top of you and fucked you faster, deeper, and harder.
"Go on, cum for me," he whispered as he rams himself in missionary. With a loud screeching moan, you came to your release as he keeps his pace, riding your high. "Suck me off," he said, and so you did. You sucked on him to his high, and with a loud groan, he came all over your face. The both of you laid silent in the bed, and in a while, Minho carried you in bridal style to the shower and washed you off. Minho was quite silent as he does his aftercare. Finally, he got his shirt that you were supposed to be wearing a while ago and assisted you in wearing them.
"Cuddle with me," he whined, making you hug him to your sleep. He was stroking your hair, making you fall deeper into his comfort. "You were supposed to wear my shirt a bit earlier, but then you began being naughty," he whispered whining to your ear. Before finally falling into dreamland, you felt him kiss you on the forehead and tightened his embrace.
"I missed you, y/n."
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thealfanator · 7 years
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The Steel that Warmed Us in the Night-Time ~ Chapter 9
He scrunched his boots along the hard, gravel path.  They emitted tiny, mysterious screams as the friction shook the tension between them. The night-time air conjured mist in front of his eyes so he had to raise his arm to feel the darkness in order to feel his way through the meadow.  He, with an unusual amount of effort, held on to his journals and papers scruffily under his anxious armpit.  Constantly looking behind him and blasting out small, nervous breaths like popping balloons, he continued to make his way up the steep hill.  The steepness of the landscape challenged his worn legs; making him want for rest.  Resisting, he scrunched some more; gravel screaming further.  When he reached his destination, he breathed a sigh of relief. He immediately took the opportunity to connect his sweaty palms with his knees and, forgetting his untidy papers, let them go onto the steep ground.  To his regret, they humorously fell down the path and to the bottom like children laughing after they stole some rich man’s wallet.  Cursing at his clumsiness, he ran back down the way he came to retrieve them. A few agonising moments later, more clumsy cursing could be heard from the large, ancient mansion which stood wisely like a statue, effortlessly drinking in the static air; night and day. The man clasped onto his papers once more (now further out of breath), and headed inside the building.
           Once inside, he listened for sounds of presence. Footsteps, coughs; any human activity, but there was none.  Exhaling from exhaustion, he tucked his journals on an ancient table which looked like it could buckle any second.  The thick layer of dust disappeared at the large thump of leather which had just taken place.  The man squinted down the dark hallway before lighting his lantern.  Before anxiously breathing in and out a few more times and laying down his crimson, feather hat, he headed deeper into the mansion.
           Geralt and Yennefer cuddled next to each other whilst on the merciless, cold grass.  They rejected it with their backs as they faced the night sky.  As the evening progressed, they became increasingly oblivious to the fact that they held each other tighter and tighter to fend off the night-time air.  They lie dead centre of a barren yet peaceful field somewhere in the middle of the Skellige Isles.  Crickets and birds yelled in the distance, but not so loud as to disturb the peace which held around them like a bubble or a sphere.  Yennefer gripped the witcher tighter before turning towards him and warming his lips with hers.
“If the king saw us procrastinating, he would slaughter us right now.” She chuckled.  Geralt was undecided whether Yennefer was motivated to push the contract to completion or to show her mischievous side and take a break from the action.  For now, he sensed both.
“I love you,” he said awkwardly, “so much.”  He gazed into the stars after receiving another pluck on the lips.  He could feel Yennefer’s warm breath on his cheek as she laughed again, almost silently.
“You know Geralt.” She started, “I never knew how much feeling your metal swords warmed me inside. Every time I touch the blade; steel or silver, it never fails to ignite a loving part of me.  It makes me feel welcome.”  Geralt failed to reply.  Maybe it was best not to – just let the moment float into the night sky like a peaceful stream of water, splattering on the rocks in a jungle.  Moments passed.  They almost drifted to sleep but they knew they had to stay awake.  For Ciri.
“When do you reckon she’ll return?” Geralt asked.  Yennefer’s eyes grew hard and confident.
“I have faith in her.” She said, continuing to clutch him round the arm, staying warm against the cold.
*
Ciri swept across a surprisingly steep hill with little effort.  She gulped a few panicked breaths before exhaling once more with a grin on her face.  Looking back at the hill, she congratulated herself.  She admitted to herself that being right in the middle of Skellige in the middle of the night and about to enter a creepy mansion tangled her nerves and sparked butterflies in her stomach.  Realigning her sword and leather straps, she walked up to the porch of the creaky mansion.  It creaked so loudly that it sounded like a moaning animal in pain.  She stared up the side of the building: nothing but wooden slabs and shattered windows.  Cirilla almost sensed a statuary nature about the house; the large structure almost posed proudly at the surroundings.  She laughed silently.
“Come on, give me luck…” she whispered at the front door and she fumbled around the handle.  She twisted.  A satisfying click followed by the high-pitched screaming of the hinges as the door swung open branded another smile on Ciri’s face.  An agonising wait proceeded as the door hung on the hinges as if it was gripping on with all its effort, about to loosen and crash to the ground.  It didn’t. After another few breaths of adrenaline, she headed inside.
           The building was silent like the calm before the storm.  Candles were unlit, books on tables had a thick layer of dust, coats hung helplessly onto racks.  It was abandoned.  Ignoring the wails of the floorboards, she absorbed the layout of the interior whilst dawdling down a long corridor.  Doors leading to kitchens, libraries and offices dotted the sides of hallways. Ciri didn’t know where to head and was impressed by the scale of it all.  She glared at the end of the path.  Something seemed strange but she was unsure what caused her unnerved sense. Something halted her breath and stopped her footsteps.  A flickering light in one of the doorways followed by indistinct whispers.  She suddenly crouched and cursed to herself. She suppressed the sounds made by her boots as much as possible but she failed at her task.  The floorboard made a tiny crack which felt loud enough to wake an army.  The whispers stopped.  Ciri stopped. Seconds of nothing passed.  She reached the doorway.  She saw the candle on the other side of the dimly lit room. Suddenly a figure reached towards her from behind the door; hands flailed, everything happened at once. Ciri fell to the floor and the silhouette bellowed onto her.  Whilst punches flew, Ciri thought she noticed a scruff of crimson clothing from the corner of her eye…
“Wait!  Stop!” she screamed.  They both stopped and exhaled.  Taking the opportunity, she darted to the nearest candle and lit it with a convenient match which sat beside it.  She saw him.  “Oh, Dandelion!  What the hell are you doing here?”  She sighed.
“Oh, darling Cirilla – I’m ever so… my apologies.” Dandelion said immediately, ignoring her question. He swept towards her and hugged her. “Me?” he quickly realised, “I’m studying!  I heard about this marvel of a structure; this house!  I couldn’t resist but use it for my research.  I needed to quench my thirst for new and exciting poetry!” Ciri glared at his gestures.  He looked like a madman, quickly coaching the wood and pointing to corners and floorboards, dancing around the room. His crimson clothing and feather hat continued to glisten despite the tiny stashes of light which flew from the candles.  “Why are you here?” he interrupted.
“It’s a long story,” Ciri began whilst leaning against a table, “here, why don’t we sit down and I’ll fill you in…”
*
           “Hey, do you remember that time in Zerrikania?” Yennefer whispered in his ear; the black tips of her raven-like hair scratching passively at Geralt’s cheek.  The Witcher turned away and laughed.
“Don’t even remind me like you’ve done a thousand times!” he said, “So embarrassing…” his voice seemed to trail off into the night sky like steam from a chimney – soft and peaceful. They continue to lie there, huddled and mutually dreaming of a life full of exciting adventures.  Yennefer collapsed her head onto Geralt’s chest whilst playing with a small tuft of grass with her right hand.  She could hear his heartbeat.  It thumped pleasurably and slowly as if it was enjoying the moment bit by bit.  Thump. Thump, like waves of electricity.
“Have you ever thought about getting a dog?” she asked before staring sleepily into Geralt’s orange, fire-like eyes, “You.  Me. Ciri.  Dog.  Toussaint? Seems peaceful, no?”
“Since when have we settled to live a normal life?  Adventure always calls.  Think I’d find it boring anyway; living a normal life, I mean.”  He sighed as he retreated into thought like a madman would eagerly return to his study, “I don’t know though, maybe…”
“I’ll let you think it over.” Yennefer said in a louder voice yet still contained all the love and passion.  She smiled.
*
           After what seemed like an extremely long chat, Cirilla and Dandelion retreated from their wobbly, creaky chairs and each held a candle which slumped in a silver cup.
“Do you really expect to find a precious, expensive amulet in a run-down, dead maze like this?” Dandelion spoke whilst fiddling with an odd positioning of his crimson cuff. Ciri, without looking directly at him, laughed exotically at his addition to the conversation.
“Why wouldn’t you find an amulet in a haunted, ominous house like this?” she countered as she used her candle to blindly follow a dark corridor.  She shadowed her eyes with her arm in hope that it would make her see better amidst the thick layer of darkness which wrapped around them.  As they reached some winding, circular stairs, Ciri heard Dandelion spluttering dust and waving the air followed by an amusing dissatisfied sound.  Ciri turned to face him and laughed.
“What’s up?  Air too… unbreathable?” She smiled once more.  Dandelion shook his head and frowned like a soaked cat.  Each step made a wail and scream as they slowly headed up. As they reached the next floor, Ciri dropped her candle as a door in the distance of the mansion slammed.  She cursed as she swiftly scrambled to pick it up again whilst burning the tips of her fingers.  Dandelion, behind her, looked in concern.
“You alright?” he said. Ciri nodded before confirming a ‘yes’ because she wasn’t certain he could see her in the darkness.
“Probably the wind.” She said.  They continued to creep forward.  Ciri twisted her neck left to see another long corridor.  “Oh, my God.” The poet heard her shout before she darted down the corridor. Dandelion, in concern, followed her. He thrusted his arm out in hope that the candle he held made a difference to his vision.
“Ciri?” he shouted. He saw her crouched at the end of the hallway.
“It’s ok!” She shouted back.  She turned to hold up the shiny amulet.  Dandelion wasn’t sure what shined more: the amulet or her smile. Dandelion sighed in relieve.  The smile was swiftly swiped off his face as a grinding, mechanical sound occurred.  After it was too late, Ciri and Dandelion were separated by a wall which previously had slid before they could have reacted and entrapped Ciri in a small space behind it.  A menacing, yet physically impossible laugh sounded from nowhere.  This time, both of them truly believed the mansion was haunted. Dandelion hugged the wall in panic whilst Ciri clutched the amulet like a mother protecting her child.  She had no escape.
Thanks once again for reaching the end of this chapter.  I still thoroughly enjoy it when I post a chapter because I get lovely feedback from you!  Sometimes I wait for Monday to arrive painfully so I can share my new content with you :) Once again, I appreciate that you guys are so patient with each chapter!  If you missed my post earlier, a few weeks ago, The Steel that Warmed Us in the Night-Time will have 12 Chapters!  Have a good day :)
Link to Chapter 1: https://thealfanator.tumblr.com/post/161443706234/the-steel-that-warmed-us-in-the-night-time
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