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freelancearsonist · 2 months

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make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.”

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this.

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in.

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

➔ beta: @fhatbhabie dividers: @saradika-graphics

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #cece writes

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effetsecndaires · 2 months

Text

— 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐯 𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬. (𝟐)

➺ INCLUDES: taiju shiba, hanma shuji, ran haitani, rindou haitani, keizo arashi (benkei), wakasa imaushi, izana kurokawa, (all of legal age, timeskip or bonten) x fem!reader

➺ CONTENT WARNING | this post contains explicit porn links!! you may need to have a twitter account or change your privacy settings to be able to see them. Please do not interact if you are under 18.

➺ NOTE | You ask, I deliver :) the links will probably disappear after a little while but i'll do my best to replace them or find similar ones when that happens!

➟ TAIJU.

Taiju’s fingers are so much thicker, so much longer than yours, always reaching places you can only dream of reaching yourself. He doesn't do sex before marriage but he'd be damned if he were to leave you frustrated and unsatisfied when you're whining and begging so prettily for him.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ WAKASA.

Wakasa doesn't like to rush things. He’ll work you to orgasm nice and slow — his cock tucked underneath the rough lacy fabric of your lingerie as he thrusts his hips forward, his cock dragging between your folds while his thumb gently rubs your clit in time with his movements, his breathing uneven and shaky from the pleasure building up.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ HANMA.

Hanma loves being in control, and he loves to put you in your place when you start acting a little too bratty for his liking. There's nothing that thrills him more than watching you squirm and beg, his fingers furiously pumping in and out of your pussy, lewd squelching sounds accompanying the pathetic little sounds coming out of your mouth while his other hand tightens its hold around your throat, teaching you a lesson.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ IZANA.

Izana isn't exactly gentle with you. He’ll hold you by the throat, pull your hair and force your head back as he fucks you like you’re his own personal fleshlight, your neck arching painfully as he keeps you in place - knees firmly planted into the mattress for more leverage. But the pain is always worth it when you feel the sloppy press of his lips onto yours, reminding you of how much he loves you.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ BENKEI.

Benkei always pulls the strongest, most powerful and body-shaking orgasms out of you. He's rough but never too much, just the right amount that turns you into a moaning mess, your eyes rolling back in your head. His thrusts are firm and rough, loud “plop” sounds echoing inside the room while the pair of panties he stuffed in your mouth serves to muffle your moans.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ RINDOU.

Rindou eats you out like he's paid to do it — always making sure you're nice and comfortable before he dives in and makes a complete mess of you. He’ll slide his tongue whatever way he pleases, up, down, or side-to-side; tasting every inch of you and swallowing everything you have to offer.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ RAN.

Why would you own so many toys of all shapes and sizes when you have your very own loving husband at home? You better hide them well unless you want him to dedicate a few hours of his day to edging you and overstimulating you until you pass out on his lap.

↳ LINK ↲

#tokyo revengers x reader #x fem reader #tokyo revengers smut #taiju shiba x reader #taiju shiba smut #benkei x reader #benkei smut #keizo arashi x reader #keizo arashi smut #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa imau smut #izana kurokawa x reader #izana x reader #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #ran haitani smut #rindou haitani smut

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rileysluvr · 10 months

Text

literally just könig jacking off to you and being delusional idk

He’s tossing and turning in bed, and he can’t seem to get comfortable no matter what he does. He had ditched his shirt after around an hour of staring up at the dark ceiling and feeling like his chest was going to cave in, but the sensation still wouldn’t leave him even after. Like it’s clinging on to every square inch of his body and eating away at him, similar to his tight shirt before being removed, though refusing to dissipate after the multiple attempts in distracting himself.

He’s burning up, and he feels it most beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. He stretches his back and shoulders against his mattress, but it gives him no relief. And he needs that relief, so desperately, he thinks he may just die if he goes another minute longer in this state. The twitching in his muscles with the compulsion that plagues them are far stronger than his mind. He huffs a final exasperation, mutters some broken and degrading swears in German, and ultimately, he gives in.

He swipes his unusually cold palm over his face before dragging it down his chest, trailing across his abdomen and following the wake of soft hair that disappears beneath the peaking waistband of his boxers. His fingertips stretch the band as they dip beneath it, and his breathing is becoming heavier yet weaker, more shaky-like, as they creep closer to where he needs attention the most.

He’s teasing himself, involuntarily and painfully. Perhaps this is his last attempt to allow himself a second thought, think twice before he commits such a dirty act on military grounds. But his mind is far too fuzzy to pay attention, it’s just been so long.

His hand finds his cock, exhaling a shaky breath at the forbidden contact, this is his last chance to turn back. His boxers are growing to be too tight around him, and this time he won’t be able to just put up with it until his thoughts dissipate. He needs release, and soon. It won’t be much, it’s only once, and then he can finally sleep, he convinces himself.

He pulls his boxers down his pelvis, leaving them just below where his hard cock is now free. He wraps his fist around his base, fingers enveloping each vein that bulges with desperation. He groans ever so softly, jaw slacked and eyes closed as goosebumps coat his chest and arms. It’s mere seconds before his mind is plummeting into uncontrollable thoughts and damned-worthy desires.

It’s your hand, he’s already imagining. It’s your smaller fingers around his cock, not enough to compensate for his size but still a hundred-times better than any fist could work. He knows you’d make it work. You’re clever like that, far more than he is.

It’s your thighs straddling his as your arm moves up and down at an excruciating pace. He needs your weight on him so fucking bad, preferably on his shoulders and face as he’d hold you down on his mouth. Fuck, he needs to taste you so bad.

It’s your voice that would talk him through it, command him on what to do until he’s broken down to the young, naive, want-to-be soldier he once was. He’ll do anything you say. He’ll walk through Hell and back if you tell him to. Hand on his heart, honest to whatever god may be out there. Smack him around.

Anything you say.

And it’s him who would satisfy your every want with unending diligence to thank you. Just fucking use him, already.

He couldn’t shake the thought, no matter how hard he tried.

No matter how dirty he felt imagining his coworker in such a position, rather than a woman of what he thinks his type should be, or even an actress from a porn magazine. No matter how unlikely it was that he’d have a chance with you, it’s downright embarrassing. And no matter how heavy that guilt sat in his gut, his fist only squeezes tighter with his strokes, retaining that languid speed that has him gritting his teeth.

You flood his mind and you don’t even know the magnitude of it because you’re just a girl living your, perhaps slightly unconventional, life in the military, and he’s the coworker that people only look twice at to check if, yes, he really is that tall.

Flashes of your face, and that pretty body of yours in the most innocent of outfits, refuse to quit their tormenting of his mind, and here he was, fucking his fist to them at night like a desperate dog. He wants to see how your skin would contrast his pale and heavily scarred exterior, and how you would surely take him from his comfort zone and make him a better man.

He swipes his thumb over the head of his cock with a broken whine, collecting his pre and spreading it down his shaft as far as it goes; fuck, he’s so sensitive, and he just needs more. He can hear your voice in the back of his mind, conceptualizing what you would say as you guide him past his threshold. You’d be so sweet on him, just as you always are on the rare occasion you’re put in a position together where talking seemed the best option for pastime. You really are just perfectly perfect all around, he thinks, and he wants you to know it, so bad.

You’re too good for him, you’re too striking. Truthfully, while the thought of you taking care of him in his most vulnerable state has him thirsting like a dog and bucking his hips up into nothing but a mangled hand and cold air, he knows that’s not him. No, he needs to be of service, one way or another.

He knows he’d be on his knees in front of you, on the ground you walk on, looking up at you with big eyes as he’d place kisses all up and down your bare thighs, careful not to ruin your clothes. He’d worship every part of your body until all you knew was utter admiration, though he doubts you’ve ever gone a day without being honored for your being.

How could any man not leap at the opportunity to praise your every step in life, especially if you’ve taken him to bed?

He actually whines out into the empty space of his quarters, face all beet red and eyes bleary from surprising himself with such an act. Self-deprecating whispers linger in the back of his mind and will remain for when he’s later clearheaded, but for now, the only thing he can think to do is continue fisting his sensitive cock to the notion of being with you.

He’d let you mold him to whatever you wanted, he’d beg you to ride his face and get yourself off with his assistance. He wants to get drunk on your pussy, he knows he would. He knows you’d taste better than anything he has ever had, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself once he starts unless you say something. Punish him, even, for not doing it right or knowing both of your limits because he’s just such a hungry, greedy whore who only wants more, more, and more.

Should you ever let him into your life, he’d be better off quitting his job and dedicating his future to just making you feel so good and so loved, and so, so proud of him. He wants to hear you call him a good boy, maybe even a loyal slut. Etch it into his skull so he could never forget, as if that’d ever be possible.

He’d fuck you in any position you’d like, and he means any.

Lay on your back, legs spread and just begging for him to bury his face in your cunt, and he’ll listen like the good boy he is until you’re beyond satisfied. Stretch it out to hours if you please; the man has stamina that would put any gold-medalist to shame, and never once in his life, has he been a quitter.

“i’m good, i promise i am… i’ll be a good boy for you, please.”

Pin him to the mattress and ride him until he can’t think or speak, use him to reach your own high while taking him for all that he has because that’s all he’s there for, is to make you feel good. The strictest soldier would turn to putty under your hold.

“das ist—…s’too much, ich flehe dich—ngh—! bitte, bitte—”

Pull him into an abandoned building and make him fuck you on the cold, hard floor despite being at work, on the job. He would jeopardize even the highest value of intel for a piece of you.

“i’ll do anything, i swear… i’ll be quiet, i-i’ll let you use me… jus’ wanna make you feel good. it’ll make me feel good, too.”

Either way, he’s going to end up on his knees once again and, if you allowed, watch his pearly cum drip from your puffy cunt before taking two of his fingers and pushing it back in, words and babbles of endless praise slipping from his lips as he imagines the idea of starting his own little family with you.

His abdomen feels tighter just thinking of it, you, and his hand with a lethargic pace around his cock. His breathing is jagged, ruthlessly so, and it picks up when his fist does as well. He stretches and rolls his shoulders, dying whimpers spilling from his lips. Your name, as well, and he’s blushing more violently then ever. You’ve got a spell on him; he’s all yours, if you want.

Christ, what would you say to him right now? Scold him, berate him. Even slap him for jerking off to the mental image of you without your permission, and edge him until he cries like an abandoned baby. Call him pathetic and promise him he’ll never, ever have a chance because he is such a coward, and all.

Oh, but you’re just so sweet on him. He doesn’t think he’s ever even heard you swear, let alone insult someone. You go to such great lengths to lighten the mood, make people feel so safe and welcome around you. And your fucking laugh, Christ, your giggles are always music to his ears. Anything that isn’t praise would sound far too foreign in your voice for him to compute. With those soft, plump lips at his ear, cooing him through his high he’s gonna reach so early, so fucking soon— fuck, he's…

He’s gonna—

A soft knocking on his door causes his hand to stop and eyes to shoot open, lightly gasping for air as he was pulled just seconds away from his orgasm. He’s frozen, dead in his tracks, and he waits for it to happen again to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things. The one time, he succumbs to his perverse hankerings.

A few seconds go by before he hears the knocking once more, this time sure it was for him. He swiftly sits up and then stands, shoving his cock in his boxers and pulling his pants back up. He leans down to grab his shirt, pulling it over his big head, introducing a new type of discomfort from before due to the cold sweat he broke coating his chest. He’s reaching for his helmet when there’s a voice coming from the other side of the door, and the hardened soldier nearly jumps in surprise.

“König?”

Oh, fuck. His entire body tenses up at the wake of your voice. Outside his room, right now, when he was just fucking his fist to the image of you. He couldn’t begin to describe or label what he’s feeling, but it’s something along the lines of utter shame and mortification. He mutters a quick and defeated curse under his breath, aggression only aimed at himself.

You’re speaking up again before he even has time to think, granted his mind was spinning and he was making no move to answer you. He’s frozen, stuck in space. Time seemed to race by him without warning, and he hated it.

“Are you awake?”

Your voice is gentle, as always, and so quiet in order to not wake anyone else in the corridor. He’s surprised he could understand you so well, then again, he’d recognize your voice from a klick away.

Could you hear him from outside his door? He wouldn’t ever be able to recover. His hard cock twitches in his pants at the thought of being caught in the act of jerking off to you, and he shakes his head, fighting back the groan boiling in his chest at the simple, yet so fucking intricate, idea of it. He’s a mess.

He decides against the hood, which would most likely prove a mistake as he could literally feel the heat exuding from his face. He knows his hair is a sore sight and his clothes are wrinkled beyond repair. You’ve ruined him, and you don’t even know it.

He swallows thickly as he trudges over to the door, attempting to clear his throat and stabilize his breathing, and his hot palm lands on the screaming door handle.

#cod mw2 #könig #könig x reader #könig x fem reader #könig x female reader #könig smut #könig mw2 #könig cod

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beenbaanbuun · 6 months

Text

best girl - yunho & mingi

words - 8.8k

genre - smut/fluff/angst if you squint

warnings - sub!reader, dom!yunho, dom!switch!mingi, chubby!reader, insecure!reader, mentions of mxm, oral (f!recieving), brief anal play, no protection, fingering, big dick!yunho, brief exhibitionism, making out, spanking, biting, light degradation (if you squint), praise, pet names (pipsqueek, sugarplum, darling, baby, puppy, our girl, best girl, pretty girl, a lot of variations on the word girl) cum eating, finger sucking (mxm), aftercare, discussions of feelings, everyone is an idiot, mingi and yunho are hopelessly in love, reader is too

You rolled your eyes and leaned over until your head was pressed against the damp wood of the table in the dark corner of the bar. They told you they were going to get drinks, Mingi pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he promised they’d be back in a minute. You checked your phone; it had been 15.

As you sat and watched them fawn over the girl in between them, you couldn’t help but feel resentment bubbling up inside of you. Resentment towards yourself for even agreeing to the night out, even though you desperately needed it. Resentment towards the gorgeous woman who was taking up all of your friends’ attention, disliking her despite her clearly deserving their attention more than you. Most importantly, though, resentment towards your friends; the two men who had looked at you with pity in their eyes when you showed up at their doorstep with tears in your eyes after yet another tinder date never showed up. It was their idea to come out and let your hair down a little and yet it was also them who had abandoned you to flirt with someone who was the antithesis of you.

Your eyes flashed over her body, causing your unwarranted hatred to flare up even more. Her green dress wasn’t too dissimilar to yours, except the way it clung to her body was tasteful and didn’t make her look the same way you felt you did. Her hair was scraped back into a high pony so elegantly that you were positive that she’d spent hours placing each individual hair in its exact position, whereas yours lay messily upon your shoulders. Her toned thighs were crossed, letting her dress ride up just the right amount so that she showed just enough for it it still be classed as ‘lady-like’, whatever the fuck that meant. You glanced down at your own thighs that had flattened against the leather of the booth you’d secluded yourself in. You poked one of them, making the flesh jiggle a little. You bet her legs didn’t jiggle like that…

You couldn’t even rip your eyes away from your legs as Yunho's comforting voice rang through your brain. “Looking at it like that won’t change anything,” he’d told you when he caught yourself staring at your body in his bedroom mirror one time, “in fact, nothing is going to change until you learn to love yourself for who you are. i’ve told you that a million times, pipsqueek, yet you never listen.” You remembered the way he wrapped his arms around you in a warm back hug before telling you just how much he loved how ‘soft’ you were.

He can’t have loved it that much if the girl he was chasing now looked like you but in a smaller size. You bet she wasn’t ‘soft’.

“Someone’s deep in thought,” a familiar deep voice said, stopping your spiral from going any further. You never took your eyes away from your thighs as he unceremoniously sat down on the plush seat beside you. You felt your stomach churn as the motion made the skin on your thighs ripple. “Something interesting down there?” He added as he leaned and followed your gaze.

The only thing that made you feel more sick than you seeing your thighs right now was Mingi seeing them. the way the skin was pulled taught, stretched and contorted as it tried to hold all of your flesh inside of it. Usually you wouldn’t mind but tonight?

Tonight you couldn’t bear it.

“Go back to your little girlfriend over there,” you muttered as you pulled your dress further down your legs to hide your shame, “I'm fine on my own.”

Mingi made a sound of disagreement as he placed a large hand over your own, stopping you from gripping at your hemline like a Victorian woman trying to keep her decency. He leaned in close, dropping his head onto your shoulder like he so often had in the past. most of the time it was when he needed comfort, but right now you suspected that he knew it was the opposite.

“And leave you here to have a meltdown on your own?” he shook his head, his short, spiked-up hair tickling your neck, “no shot, sugarplum. I'm staying here until you tell me exactly why you were trying to make your thighs explode with your mind.

The joke would’ve usually gotten a laugh out of you, but your silence was just further confirmation that you were completely out of it. Mingi didn’t like that.

“Besides, she’s cool but she’s nothing compared to you, huh?” he poked your side with the hand he didn’t have laced with your own. Again, it was an action that should’ve had you giggling and playfully pushing him away, but all he was met with was yet another worrying silence.

Fuck, Mingi was bad at stuff like this. Always had been, really. Of course he was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t secretly messaging Yunho behind your back for advice. The older of the two always knew what to say, whereas all Mingi ever had to offer was a pat on the head and a quiet mutter of ‘shh, it’ll be okay’. It was good enough to calm you down for a while, but Yunho was the one with the magic words that could pull you out of whatever headspace you’d found yourself in.

In fact, it was Yunho that had noticed you from the other side of the bar. The dim lights concealed your facial expression, but he didn’t need to see your face to know that you weren’t okay. Your sunken shoulders paired with your head that was hanging low did a good enough job of letting him know you needed them. Clearly, you were zoned out, which was never good, and Yunho couldn’t help but feel his heart stop for half a second when he saw you move your hand to harshly poke at something under the table.

Poor Mingi was mid-conversation with Jemma when Yunho thwacked his shoulder and gestured over to you with his head. The blonde’s words were cut short when he shifted his gaze over to where Yunho was looking, a worried pout forming on his plush lips. his eyes flickered between you and Yunho in a silent conversation, quietly deciding on the best course of action. Only seconds passed before Mingi was nodding and placing his glass down on the bar. He shot a quick wink at Jemma before taking a few steps towards you.

“See you another time,” he shouted over the music, “I think we left our girl on her own for too long.” He gestured at you before giving Jemma a look that was filled with nothing but sympathy for you. The woman simply nodded, sharing a pretty smile with him.

“Go make her feel loved, pretty boy,” she giggled, “you really shouldn’t be leaving such a gorgeous girl unattended, y’know!”

Mingi just laughed before spinning round and going to sit by your side.

Yunho didn’t keep the conversation with Jemma going, which she didn’t seem to mind. She watched him with a soft smile for a few seconds, taking note of the worry etched onto his expression as he stared you down from his seat. His jaw was tightly clenched, the muscles flexing every so often as he studied what was happening in front of him. When Jemma said goodbye, he barely even responded, simply nodding and wishing her a good night before returning full focus back to you.

You didn’t realise Yunho had seen the way you tried to pull your skirt down, only for Mingi to stop you, or the way you flinched when Mingi tried to cheer you up by tickling your side. It didn’t even cross your mind that he might have noticed the way you looked like you were about to throw up when Mingi threw his gangly arm around your middle to tug you closer to him. If you did, perhaps you would’ve made more of an effort to hide how you were feeling. Maybe if you did, there wouldn’t currently be a soft hand grazing against your chin, finally lifting your gaze up from where it rested upon your thighs.

It guided your eyes up until they landed on Yunho's face, jaw set in stone and eyes equal parts worried and upset. his fluffy brown hair rested gently upon his forehead, which you could tell was creased with concern despite it being hidden. You gulped as he held your gaze for what felt like hours, although it was probably only seconds, his hand never leaving your chin once.

“I think you’re ready to go,” he said firmly. there was no room to argue, although Yunho knew you too well to assume that you wouldn’t at least try and get a word in.

“What about your lady friend?” your voice was barely audible above the bass that was buzzing through the air, “aren’t you taking her home?”

Yunho shook his head.

“We’re taking you home, instead.”

Gentle patterns were traced along your jawline by his thumb, the appendage dancing along your soft skin in an attempt to distract your mind from whatever it was distracted by. It only partially worked. The other half of your brain was desperate to remind you that you did not, in fact, have a jawline to trace. Your face was just as ‘soft’ as the rest of you.

“You know what I mean, Yunho,” you mutter, finally breaking eye contact with him, eyes moving down to his chest. It was as low as they could go with his fingers still wrapped around your jaw. He simply squeezed tighter, giving your face a quick jolt, and your eyes were back on his.

“So do you, pipsqueek,” he leaned in close, not even breaking eye contact with you as he gestured for Mingi to stand up and grab your things. Your breath hitched as he shifted his hand slightly to let his finger play with your bottom lip. “Don’t think I don't know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. Clearly, someone hasn’t been listening to me all those times I told you you were beautiful.” He sighed, as though he was disappointed. “Guess we'll just have to prove it to you, hm?”

There was no reply from you, not that there needed to be. There really was nothing to be said this time. No room to bite back or cause trouble. Yunho clearly understood that you had nothing more to say, a smirk resting on his lips.

“Come on then, my gorgeous girl,” he whispered as he guided you up and out of the seat using nothing more than the grip he had on your face, “let me and Mingi take care of you, huh? Let us show you just how pretty we think you are. Because we really, really do… don’t we Mingi?”

“Of course, we do,” Mingi’s deep voice responded, his warm hand landing on the small of your back, “I don’t know about Yunho, but I think you’re the prettiest creature to walk this earth…”

Yunho finally let go of your jaw, letting you lift your hand to massage the sore muscles. Your delicate fingers prodded at your plush cheeks, which felt a thousand degrees hotter than what should’ve been normal, as you watched Yunho pull out his phone to order an Uber to their apartment. Somewhere that you frequented regularly, and yet for the first time like this.

That's when it really sunk in that tonight you weren’t just their best friend, but their girl of choice. Of course, you’d heard many tales about the girls they’d take back to their apartment and share between them. They’d carefully select them before buttering them up with their silver tongues until finally, they’d take her back to the ‘chad pad’, as Mingi had cheesily nicknamed it, and giving her the night of her life. Time after time you'd been told about their escapades, and time after time you wished someone would take care of you in a similar way.

Scenes played over in the back of your mind. Yunho teasing Mingi for his ‘love of being suffocated’, although you couldn’t quite work out what that meant. Mingi giggling as he jokingly scolded Yunho for being ‘too bossy’. You gulped nervously at the prospect.

But the longer you pondered your situation, the more you couldn’t help but feel bad for the other girl. They were clearly getting somewhere with her, yet they threw it all away in seconds, and for what? To comfort you? With Yunho’s eyes scanning you like you were a priceless diamond, and Mingi’s hand rubbing circles on your back, only to dip down and cop a feel every few seconds, you’d be stupid to think that was the only thing on their mind. Maybe they lost their chance with the pretty one when they left her so they could look after you. Maybe they just realised they were missing out so they were settling for second best.

Yeah, that must be it.

Second best…

“You’re thinking,” Mingi grumbled in your ear before placing a quick kiss to your cheek, “stop it.”

“I can't not think, mingi,” you muttered back. Although you were trying desperately to look anywhere but them, there was no way you could miss the way Yunho cocked a brow at you.

“Then think about all the things we’re going to make you feel when we get back to ours,” he said, bringing up a finger to tap at your forehead, “rather than thinking about whatever useless thing it is that has your face all screwed up like that.”

“It's not useless.”

“It must be if it has you as tense as this, sugarplum,” Mingi pressed a quick kiss to your head, as his hand gave a firm squeeze to your ass. It was a warning. “I know yunho has talked to you about not listening to your brain, so you’d better switch it off, okay? Whatever you’re telling yourself is wrong.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a simple look from Yunho, and a light swat to the ass from Mingi shut you up.

“Good girl,” Yunho smiled at you. It was too sweet, too Yunho, for you to do anything but preen. Even without the tension that was rising between you, you’d always loved to be praised by him. “Uber's almost here, Mingi. Stop groping our girl before you can’t stop. I know how you get and I don't want to make yet another uber driver uncomfortable.”

You giggled at that, getting another soft smile from Yunho in return. It was nice. Familiar. It reminded you that even behind the bedroom eyes, your best friend was still there to keep you safe and happy. And although Mingi was behind you, barely managing to peel himself away from you, you knew he was the same old mingi too. The way that he smiled against your neck, just like he did when you were protecting him from your other friend, Wooyoung’s, bullying told you that much.

“You try tearing yourself away from our girl, Yunho,” Mingi gave your ass another hard squeeze before letting his hand come down on it harshly. You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as he began to massage it again. “Its so fucking difficult, dude.” Mingu pressed his face into your neck and inhaled your scent with a groan, “you smell like home, babe,” he kissed the soft skin, “fucking hell, i can’t believe we’ve waited this long.”

A big hand carded through your hair as Yunho moved it to give Mingi better access to your neck. His fingers gently massaged your scalp as Mingi practically made out with your neck. The slurping sounds he was making just below your ear were obscene, but it was offset by the familiarly loving look that Yunho was giving you.

“I know, mingi,” he said, never once breaking eye contact with you, “Too long if you ask me. Our girl doesn’t realise just how beautiful we think she is, huh? Well just you wait, darling. The moment we step through our front door, we’re going to make sure you never forget again.”

And with that, he tugged you away from Mingi, who let out the most pathetic whine you think you’d ever heard, and guided you to the exit where the car was waiting. You checked behind you to see if Mingi was following. He winked at you in return.

Once you’d reached the car, Yunho held the door open for you. “Ladies first,” he gestured for you to get in, to which you rolled your eyes before sliding onto the leather seats. You were about to scoot all the way across, expecting one of them to get in the front like usual, but Yunho just shook his head, “in the middle, darling. Leave some space for the rest of us, huh?”

He slid in himself, closing his door as the one to the other side of you opened. Mingi dropped into the car and shut the door himself, quickly making himself comfortable with a hand high up your thigh. Yunho gave a disapproving tut to him, before doing the exact same himself.

The way the warmth of their hands spread over your soft skin made your heart skip a beat. The gentle kneading of Mingi’s palm compared to the sturdy grasp of Yunho’s was enough to send your brain into a dizzy haze, only made worse when Mingi began to pull your thigh closer to his.

The cold aircon blasting out of the central fan hit the wet patch on your panties directly, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath. Yunho chuckled to the right of you, copying mingi and making your legs spread even wider. Your dress was pushed up by your thighs, now resting at the point where the fleshy limbs joined your hips. You prayed to anything that would listen that the driver wouldn’t look back and see you in this state; sat between your two best friends, legs spread wide open, white underwear almost made see through with your sticky desire. The thought alone had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“You okay, baby?” Mingi asked, shifting his hand so that his pinky was just barely brushing against your panties, “you don’t look so good.”

God you wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face.

“Yeah, pipsqueek,” Yunho added as he slipped your panties to the side, dipping the tip of his finger into the gooey mess that was currently your pussy. There was a moan on the tip of your tongue as his finger penetrated your hole, but he quickly removed it and let your panties fall back into place, “Wait, I think you have something on your lip. Hold on a second~”

Before you could register his words, a wet finger was tracing your bottom lip, smearing your own juices across your mouth.

“That's funny, it looks like cream,” Mingi snickered, “lick it up, baby.”

You did as he said, pushing your tongue out and collecting your wetness from your bottom lip. You shuddered at the filth of it all.

“Does it taste sweet, darling?” Yunho fluttered his eyelashes, trying his hardest to resemble the picture of innocence.

“I bet it does,” Mingi replied, “bet it tastes so fucking delicious, huh? Wish i could just stick my face right in there, baby, slurp up all that cream that’s just… spilling out.”

You were thankful when the Uber swiftly came to a stop at the side of the road, practically bending over yunho yourself to grab at the handle. He chuckled, petting your hair with his still soiled fingers as he thanked the driver. Mingi said much of the same as he got out his own side and made his way round to yours. He watched with intense eyes as you stumbled onto the pavement, gripping onto Yunho for balance.

Your face made you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Yunho couldn’t help but lean down to steal a kiss. You were almost taken aback for a second, remembering how Yunho and Mingi would express that they didn’t like to kiss the women that they took home. “Too romantic,” Mingi had explained one time, “they come to us for a good time, not for the whole ‘love’ experience, y’know?” At the time you’d understood, just as you thought you’d understood what tonight was. As your best friend licked into your mouth, you realised that maybe you were mistaken.

You pushed at his chest, and he stopped within an instant. There were words on your tongue, but when you lay eyes on him, they disappeared. Flushed cheeks, plump lips and eyes that looked like they were 90% pupil. That's all it took for you to leap right in with both feet. Fuck it, you decided as you wrapped your arms around his neck, if love is what they want, then love is what they’d get. It's not like you hadn’t been shamefully dreaming about it for years. kissing them, holding them, fucking them.

Of course there was the part of your brain that told you to stop before you went head first into something you weren’t quite sure you understood.

You laughed against Yunho's mouth as you told the voice to shut up.

“What?” He mumbled, barely pulling away before going back in for more. It was a couple more seconds before you pulled away yourself.

“I just can’t believe I'm listening to mingi for once,” you replied. There was a scoff from behind you as the short haired main placed himself at your rear once more. A hot tongue licked a stripe up your neck.

“What's that supposed to mean, brat?” mingi nipped at your earlobe.

You gasped into the kiss, briefly pulling away once more.

“M’turning my brain off,” you giggle into the cold night air, “whatever happens, happens, right?”

You delved right back into the kiss, opening your mouth to allow Yunho's prying tongue acces. He explored your cavern, licking at everything he could reach before letting his tongue clash with yours. Your wet muscles tangled with one another, dancing an intricate jive between your lips, all whilst Mingi’s was tracing patterns upon your collarbones.

“But I know what’s going to happen, sugarplum,” he whispered against your skin, “we’re going to take you upstairs,” he bit into your shoulder making you squeal into the kiss you were still sharing with Yunho, “we’re going to make you feel every bit as beautiful as we know you are,” he sucked at the very same bit of skin his teeth had just abused, releasing it a second later with a ‘pop’, “and then, my pretty little thing, we’re going to make you our girl… not that you haven’t always been,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the same spot.

“And to think, we’ve been fucking all these other girls knowing that nothing would be as good as you, baby. They were all pretty, of course, but none of them even got close to you. None of them made me as hard as you do, or made my heart beat as quickly,” another kiss, “and Yunho would never even dream of kissing anyone that isn’t you, baby. You're special to us, hm? One of a kind,” he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged, pulling you away from the kiss. A string of spit connected your mouth with Yunho’s, neither of you making a move to break it.

“Do you feel the same?” Yunho panted out, “Do you want us just as much as we want you, darling? Do you want to be our special girl, huh? Ours to have and hold and love as we please?” you nodded as well as you could with mingi gripping your hair. He gripped it tighter for a moment or two, stilling your movements.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Good,” Mingi let go and used the same hand to go fishing in the pocket of his trousers. You heard the jingling of keys as he pulled them out and passed them over to Yunho with a smile. “You've had your fun, dude,” he smirked as he placed his hand on your ass once again, “I want to play.”

“So immature,” Yunho rolled his eyes before leading the two of you inside the building and to the elevator, “seriously, I can't make out with my darling for five minutes without you getting jealous and needing to feel her up,” the elevator dinged and the doors opened. the three of you stepped inside. “you know her ass will still be there if you let go of it for two seconds, right?”

Mingi squeezed it in his huge palm.

“I don't want to let go long enough to find out,” he smacked it softly, grunting as your flesh jiggled against his already throbbing dick. “Just feels like it belongs in my hands, y’know? Like my own personal stress ball.”

Yunho sighed as the elevator stopped. He was the first out, going immediately to unlock the door and let the two of you tumble inside. Mingi guided you straight to his bedroom, Yunho following moments after, getting there just in time to see Mingi fall into the bed and position himself with his head resting on his pillow.

He looked like a god lying there in that stupid fucking compression shirt that made you stare, and a pair of beige cargo pants that did nothing to disguise the sheer size of his bulge. The cocky smirk he wore as he watched you scan him up and down was almost insufferably hot. You wanted him to make you his in every way that mattered. You wanted him to throw you around and take you however he wanted. Judging by Yunho's penchant for bossing you around, though, you guessed that was more his thing in the bedroom. Mingi just seemed to want one thing and one thing only: his hands on your ass and his face in your pussy.

“Don’t keep him waiting, darling,” Yunho said as he strolled past you towards the chair that sat facing the bed. He dropped down onto it, legs spread as he let himself fully relax. “Don’t you think he’s been patient enough? I know it might not seem like it, but you have no idea how much restraint hes had tonight,” Yunho smirked, “if he had it his way, you never would’ve left our apartment in that tight fucking dress. He would’ve been face deep in your cunt the moment you showed up at our doorstep, darling. I'm almost surprised he wasn’t…”

Mingi just chuckled from his spot on the bed before holding a hand out to you. You took it, not expecting to be yanked towards him the next second. The moment you were close enough, his big hands were everywhere, pulling you in every direction until seconds later, you too were on the bed, sitting on his chest with your knees either side of his head. You couldn’t hide the look of surprise when he hooked a finger into the crotch of your panties, tugging it to the side so he could get a full viewing of your wet pussy. He groaned at the sight, tossing his head back in pleasure as if the sight of it alone could make him cum.

“God,” he grunted, slipping a finger inside before pulling it out and popping it into his mouth, “fuck, baby. going to eat you until I'm full, okay? Going to devour you like a fucking michelin star meal, and then when Yunho’s had his turn with you, I’m going to go back for seconds.”

Yunho let out a hearty chuckle as he watched his best friend struggle to contain himself. It seemed to be having an effect on you too. Yunho wasn’t sure whether or not you’d even noticed your hips gently rocking against Mingi's chest. He assumed not.

“Baby, take your dress off,'' Mingi grunted, watching as you complied right away, ripping the soft material over your head. There was no time to feel self conscious, both men letting out a guttural groan at the sight of you, reveling in the fact that they finally had you to themselves, naked and ready for them to take care of. The cold air of the room made your nipples perk up, Mingo briefly lifting a hand up to brush against your sensitive nub, “and panties too, okay? Don’t want anything in between me and my dinner, y’know?”

You giggled but did as he said, slipping off of him for just a second or two so you could pull them off completely. You placed them into his waiting palm, only for him to screw them up and chuck them at Yunho. The man in the chair caught them with ease, something that was so incredibly hot to you, before lifting them up to his nose and taking a long, dragged-out sniff. Your jaw dropped in shock, but you didn’t have long to dwell on what had just happened. Not when mingi was pawing at your thigh, trying to get you back into position.

You slid back to where you were previously, bare leaking pussy looking him dead in the eyes. He had a grin like a shark about to go in for the kill, but his eyes were glazed over with something that could only be described as pure joy.

“Sit,” he commanded.

You did, lowering yourself gently onto his chest, thighs aching as you used them to hold the majority of your weight.

“No,” he responded, “on my fucking face, baby.”

You blushed, shifting a little so you were hovering with your core just a few inches above his face.

“Baby, if I have to tell you again I won’t be very happy,” his hands landed on your hips, “fucking,” he tugged you down sharply until your clit was brushing against his nose gently, “sit.”

He pulled you down again onto his open mouth, his tongue immediately probing your hole and making you let out what could only be described as a pornographic moan. His nose was now firmly pressed against your clit, prodding it at a new angle every time he shifted his head.

He moaned, the action sending shivers down your spine and your hand shot down to grip at his hair. Your fingers tugged at his bleached hair, pulling a prolonged groan from his plush lips as his tongue played with your dripping hole. You could feel the vibrations deep within you, causing a shiver to run freely down your spine. It felt perfect, the way he mouthed at you like you were the best meal he was ever going to have. The way he tasted you, alternating from forcing his tongue deep inside of your hole to slurping up your juices and making the most obscene, filthy sounds you think you'd ever heard. Add that to the fact that you could feel Yunho’s eyes running up and down your naked body, and you were almost ready to cum within 20 seconds of taking your seat.

“How’s she taste, Mingi?” the brunette asked from his seat, “as good as you’d been hoping? Or better?” You could hear the laughter in his voice as he quizzed your best friend. Part of you was expecting Mingi to pull away to answer, but instead he just mumbled a few incoherent words directly into your pussy before shifting his face slightly to allow his tongue to play with your clit. Yunho chuckled as you gasped at the new sensation. “Dude, you really need to learn to stop talking with your mouth full.”

But Mingi didn't pull away to repeat himself, simply letting himself indulge in his meal. In you. Lips wrapping around your clit, suckling at the bud harshly until you were letting out sharp little gasps and holding onto his hair for dear life. Sometimes he’d let his teeth scrape against you, making you whine over and over again. Then he’d circle the delicate bud with his tongue, soothing it briefly before starting the process all over again.

Suck, nip, soothe, repeat.

It was all getting to be too much. You hadn't even noticed when Yunho stood from the seat and made the short walk over to the bed. You hadn't noticed him shedding his loose white shirt, nor had you noticed him taking a seat next to you on the bed. The sound of him spitting onto his hand never registered, nor did the deep hum of satisfaction when he noticed that you were starting to grind slightly against Mingi’s face. In fact, it wasn’t until a wet digit began to circle your puckered hole that you even realised just how much had happened whilst you lost yourself in a dizzy haze of pleasure.

You cried out when you felt the digit pressing into you, pushing past the resisting ring of muscle and delving deep inside of you. That alone was enough to make you topple forwards, Mingi’s hands catching you before you could completely collapse against him. His tongue worked you through the orgasm, somehow working in perfect sync with Yunho’s finger. If you werent already feeling so fucked out, you probably wouldve marvelled at just how well practiced they seemed working as one unit. That was a thought for when you were fully lucid, though. Not for when you were cumming on your best friends tongue whilst your other best friend played with your tight asshole like it was nothing.

It felt good. Fuck, it felt damn near perfect, but you were quickly moving into the territory of overstimulation. Yunho seemed to notice, the keen eye he always kept on you working to his advantage yet again as he let his finger slide out of you and he pulled you off of Mingi’s mouth with a pop. The blonde let out a whine of complaint that was quickly silenced when he saw the blissed out look on your face as Yunho placed you gently down beside Mingi on the mattress. His sorrowful pout quickly turned into a smirk as he realised that he was the one to put you in such a state.

“One orgasm and she’s already gone dumb,” Yunho chuckled as he stood once more, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants drop to the floor. Again, a more lucid you would’ve balked at his lack of boxers, but instead all you could do was whimper as you saw the sheer size of him. It was easily the biggest dick you’d ever seen, let alone had anywhere close to you. The smug look on Yunho’s face let you know that he was aware of that fact though. “Got to be a record, right?”

“It definitely is,” Mingi’s lips were wet as he spoke, but he never bothered to wipe it away. You blushed at the thought of him wearing you on his face. He smiled, brushing a finger up against your heated cheek. “I think it's a sign.”

“A sign of what?” Yunho crawled back onto the bed, letting himself sit back on his ankles as he just stared. Eyes scanned you up and down, just as they were when he watched you ride Mingi’s face, mapping every single detail of your body. You wondered whether he did that to every girl they brought into their beds, or just you. Perhaps you were just delusional, but you couldn't help that your mind settled on the latter.

“That she’s made for us,” Mingi answered, sounding as though he was more sure of that fact than anything else in the world, “I mean come on, dude, look at her! Have you ever seen a more perfect sight?”

Yunho hummed in contemplation, acting as though he was thinking deeply about the matter of whether you were ‘made for them’ or not. As he considered, his hands joined his eyes in mapping out your body, trailing their way lightly from your ankles to your calves, stopping briefly at your thighs to massage them back to life, and then moving on to your hips. His fingertips sank into the plush flesh and he couldn’t help but let his usual warm smile make its way onto his face.

“I think you’re right, Mingi,” he said as he rubbed gentle circles into your skin, “I don't think I’ve ever seen a sight as beautiful as this one. Our little pipsqueak, lay out on your bed just for us. It just feels right.”

“I’ve lay here plenty of times,” you muttered, breaking up the conversation they were having over your head. Your brain was starting to fight through the fog that Mingi’s tongue and Yunho’s finger had somehow managed to bring upon it. Almost coherent thoughts were fighting their way to the forefront of your brain, although you had no doubt Yunho would fuck them away again in just a moments time. “And I’m pretty sure I've been naked in this bed too…”

Both men laughed wholeheartedly at the memory. You, passed out drunk in Mingi’s bed as the two men tried to get you changed into something better to sleep in. Stripping you had been the easy part. For some reason - one that you never planned on sharing - you’d been more than willing to take off each and every item of clothing once the two of you had dragged you away from the festivities in their living room. The two were more than respectful of your nude form, only sneaking glances every once in a while as they practically fought you to get you dressed into something suitable to sleep in. Apparently, not that you could remember it all too well, you’d been adamant on remaining naked and it was only when Mingi offered to buy you that pretty skirt you’d been eyeing up for weeks that you agreed to wear the boxers and the sweater that were being offered to you.

“This is different, baby,” Mingi whispered as he traced your lips with his fingers, “you were drunk then. Our priority was taking care of you and making sure that our best friend was okay. Tonight, our priority is fucking you into this mattress and making sure that our girl can’t walk straight tomorrow. It's all about context, baby.”

“So you’re saying you didn't find me hot?”

Both of them chuckled.

“You were downright adorable, but as for hot? We wouldn’t know, darling,” Yunho began to move his hands again, bringing them up to your breasts to massage them gently in his hands, “our priority was making sure you didn't throw up onto Mingi’s bed. We took a little bit of a break from fantasizing about fucking your brains out.”

“And that's all it was,” Mingi’s hand joined Yunho’s in caressing your body. Although his moved straight down to your core, dipping a finger into the wet mess he’d left there. He chuckled at the way your jaw dropped slightly, breath hitching as he let one of his long fingers slip inside of you. It curled against your velvety walls, stroking them gently. “I promise that the moment you woke up in the morning with your pouty lips and your messy hair, I went straight back to wanting you.”

“S-straight back?” You stuttered as he slipped another finger in. “I doubt that.”

Yunho flicked their thumbs over your pebbled nipples, grinning at the way you arched your back a little.

“Of course, baby! Are you kidding?” The fingers inside you picked up their pace, scissoring slightly to stretch you out. “Morning sex with you would be so fucking hot. You’re so soft and pliant when you first wake up. I just know you’d be whimpering so sweet while we manhandle you and take you apart piece by piece.”

“She’s soft and pliant all the time, Mingi. One compliment and she’s practically a fucking lap dog” Yunho took his hands away from your tits. A pathetic - even by your own admission - whine forced its way up your throat, to which Yungho replied with a chuckle. “She even cries like one.”

A third finger was pressed to your entrance, slipping inside of you with a pleasant stretch. It felt like almost too much, but one look at Yunho’s member that rested heavy between his legs had you swallowing any complaints you had. If you were going to take him like you so desperately wanted to, you'd need the prep. You’d need to be stretched out by Mingi’s fingers. As daunting as the prospect of it all was, you were a big girl.

You could take it.

You lay there, bones melting to nothing as you tried your hardest to relax into the stretch. Even if Mingi’s fingers weren’t particularly thick, they were long, and the way he was spreading them within you, pushing at your gummy walls, had you seeing stars. You gripped his wrist as he ground the heel of his hand into you, bringing you hurtling towards your second orgasm as if you hadn’t come down from your first just minutes before.

“Fuck, Mingi,” you gasped, “going to make me cum again.”

Your thighs were desperately trying to close around Mingi’s hand, but Yunho seemed to have other ideas. He grasped at them, pushing them even further apart and leaning down so his face was directly across from where Mingi was knuckle deep within you. He groaned at the sight, cock jumping slightly in anticipation. God, he wanted to be inside of you so bad.

The sound you made as you came was something you'd never heard from your own mouth before. It was loud and long and had the two boys practically drooling over you as you writhed around under their large hands and sultry gazes. Yunho's hands stopped you from wriggling away from them as Mingi once again pushed you to the brink of overstimulation before drawing his hand back and lazily licking his fingers clean.

It was quite possibly the filthiest thing you’d ever seen. you couldn’t tear your eyes away. His thick tongue darted out of his mouth to lap at the sticky substance that coated his digits before drawing back into his mouth with a thick string of arousal still connected. He groaned, eyes flickering shut as if it was the best fucking meal he’d ever tasted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“Give me a taste,'' Yunho brought your attention back to him within seconds. His hands let go of your thighs, moving until they were either side of your head and his toned chest lay just above your head. You briefly admired his pecs until a moan drew your gaze back up to his mouth. his own lips were wrapped around Mingi’s middle and ring finger, cheeks hollowed out as he sucked your juices from them. Your jaw dropped as you watched him give a pretty convincing blowjob to the fingers that were plunged deep into his mouth. he pulled back, breathing heavily. “Holy fuck, puppy. What do you eat to make your pussy taste so sweet, huh?”

The fact that he’d called you puppy didn’t go unnoticed, but you were too dazed to comment. Panting like a bitch in heat as he grinned down at you, a new sheen over his lips to match mingi’s. It suited him just as much, you realised.

“Do you think you’ll taste just as sweet when we’re mixed together?” he asked as he lined himself up with your hole. He thrusted into you just a little, enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head, before slowly drawing out again and repeating the process. “I think you will, but we’ll have to wait for Mingi to give the final verdict, yeah? he’s really into the clean up process, puppy.”

You were too fucked out to work out what Yunho meant, although you had a feeling it had to do with the blonde's seemingly voracious appetite.

Mingi tugged his finger out of his mouth with a pop.

“Nothing could tarnish the way she tastes,” he groaned as Yunho continued to thrust into you, gradually getting deeper and deeper each time he pushed into you, “even with your gross seed dripping out of her.”

Yunho rolled his eyes at Mingi as he bottomed out. you couldn’t help but tense up at the sensation of being so overwhelmingly full. It felt silly, but you were shocked at just how much bigger he was than the three fingers you came around moments prior. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix as his pelvis came to a stop against yours. He was still for a few seconds, eyes carefully studying your screwed up face for a sigh that he could begin. It took a few seconds for the crinkles in your forehead to flatten out, but once they did, he drew his hips back in one long stroke and began to thrust.

“You fucking love sucking me off,” Yunho spat back as his hips rocked into you at a harsh pace. Sharp slaps echoed around the room each time his hips came into contact with yours. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your body went completely limp against the wrinkled-up sheets.

“I have an oral fixation, dude,” Mingi shuffled closer so he could study your face a little closer. The way your lips parted, tiny gasps coming out with each thrust. The way your eyes were spaced out, staring into thin air as you tried desperately to hang on to reality. He smirked as you whined when Yunho thrusted into you particularly hard, “me sucking you off every once in a blue moon has nothing to do with whether I like the taste of your cum or not.”

And with that, he put his lips against yours, tongue immediately taking the opportunity to explore your open mouth. Your fingers, which were desperately grasping at the sheets, flew up to the back of his head. They tangled themselves in his short locks, holding him tightly against you as he spread the taste of yourself against your mouth.

It was messy, all tongue and teeth, but you expected nothing else from Mingi. He licked at your mouth the same way he did your pussy, seeming to gather your spit onto his tongue, devouring each and every drop he could gather. You couldn’t help but let your jaw go slack, allowing him full access to your mouth. Something that had him letting out a low moan of his own.

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby,” he mumbled as he pulled away for a second, almost immediately diving back in for more. You had no time to bask in the praise before you felt a thumb pressing against your already abused clit. You gasped into Mingi’s mouth and he smiled against your open mouth. “Such a perfect girl, huh? So reactive for us.”

“Damn right she is,” Yunho continued with the same punishing pace, although his movements were getting a little sloppy. You could tell he was close, and as he circled your overstimulated clit, you could tell that you were too. Three was a lot for you, but with your two boys, it felt so natural. They pulled them out of you with ease, sending you to an unfamiliar headspace with each one. “She's our perfect girl. always fucking has been.”

“Of course she has been,” Mingi licked a stripe up your neck, loving the way it made you squirm, “our gorgeous, clueless girl. No idea just how perfect her pretty little body is.”

“Fucking shame that you are so clueless, puppy,” Yunho leant down, breathing heavy in your ears as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. The shapes he was rubbing into your clit were desperate as he tried to pull your orgasm out of you before he spilled himself inside of you, “you had no clue that your two big, bad best friends wanted nothing more than to love you, did you?”

You whined as Mingi bit into the flesh of your shoulder. It was the final push you needed to tip you over the edge. Your head was spinning as Yunho worked you through it, hips coming to a stop as he filled you up with his cum.

“Fucking perfect,” he muttered, voice barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears.

You didn’t notice when he pulled out, sucking in a sharp breath as he washed his cum flow out of your sopping hole. Just like you didn’t notice when Mingi let out a sad whine at the sight of you being too fucked out for him to ‘clean you up’ in his own special sense of the word. Nor did you notice when Yunho went searching through Mingi’s drawers to find a pack of baby wipes.

You did notice when the cold, wet tissue first made contact with your hot skin. You whined, writhing around in discomfort as Mingi shushed you and pressed a kiss to your temple. Yunho's movements were gentle as he wiped the layer of sweat away before getting out a fresh wipe and focussing on your core. It was sensitive down there, but Mingi’s gentle comfort made it so Yunho could do his job without much upset. That didn't mean that whenever he went within a centimeter of your swollen bud you wouldn’t let out a quiet whimper. Mingi just smiled and kissed your pouted lips to distract from the overstimulation of Yunho wiping a mixture of spit and cum away from your clit.

“We really should get you up, pipsqueek,” the brunette muttered as he flopped back onto the bed, tossing an arm over your waist so naturally that it was like he hadn’t been balls deep in you minutes before, “you always complain about how you’re always too lazy to pee after sex and how you always end up with a UTI.”

“i don’t think i can bear another trip to the store to stock up on cranberry juice,” Mingi giggled in such a Mingi-ish way that the idea of his tongue pressed deep in your pussy felt like little more than one of your many daydreams about him, “it was so embarrassing when we had girls over only to offer them a drink and open the fridge to 4 bottles of cran…”

Yunho laughed wholeheartedly.

“Well I guess we don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he kissed your cheek gently, “not when we have the perfect girl right here.”

“Does this mean no more pretending I'm not jealous when you two are talking about your sexcapades?” you mutter, still only half of your brain working at full speed.

“Only if it means we dont have to hear about any more tinder hook-ups,” mingi responded, “god i fucking hated all of those men who got to touch you before i did.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You guys only have yourselves to blame. I never would’ve gone near those guys had you two not started collecting women like fucking Pokemon first!”

“I guess so,” Yunho muttered, pressing a light kiss to your temple, “but you need to know that none of them were really ours. We just didn't know we were allowed the real thing, so we had to settle.”

You scoffed.

“Real feminist of you, Yunho,” you lightly slapped his chest. Mingi laughed.

“Sorry, darling,” he apologised, “forgot that you're all for the ‘women support women’ thing, even when you're so clearly jealous.”

A comfortable silence fell over the three of you as you held one another. You in the middle with Yunho to your front and Mingi pressed to your back. You didn't miss the way their fingers tangled with one another's atop your hip. You could've mentioned it, but that was for another time.

“What made you flip tonight?” You finally asked, the all-important question dangling for a moment or two like bait. You bit, waiting patiently for the boys to give you the answer.

“You made Yunho mad,” Mingi was the first to speak, “thinking bad about yourself and your body, as if he hasn't spent years trying to talk you out of that sort of behaviour.”

You hummed in response.

“Needed to prove how beautiful we think you are, baby,” Yunho picked up where Mingi left off. “Making you ours in the process was just an added bonus.”

“So you really want me?”

“Always have, baby.”

“Always will.”

#ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez fic #mingi x reader #mingi smut #yunho x reader #yunho smut

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luveline · 1 month

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Hi Jade! I had an idea for a request! I was thinking about reader with a really low sex drive and maybe one day she starts to get a little worried and insecure about it and one of the boys just reassures her that he doesn’t care about it<3 idk if that made sense but write for whatever boy you want to I don’t have a preference love you 😚

How Remus, James and Sirius would comfort you when you worry your low libido is a problem. fem, 2.2k

❥ Remus

Remus sits with his legs crossed in the corner of the settee, a book open on his thigh, though his attention has been caught and kept by the TV.

You think some grovelling may be in order after last night. Quiet, you round the settee and climb onto the seat next to his, body turned away from the TV, arm creeping onto his thigh.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

He encourages you closer, leaning back to give you room to lie on him. His right arm does most of the work to keep you up, sandwiching you to his chest, an almost not quite hug. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“How do you know something is wrong?”

He taps your back with his fingers, looking up at the ceiling with a sarcastic smile. “What could it be?”

The hints of green in his irises are more pronounced when he’s sitting in the sun like this, rays cutting in through the window, turning his pale skin slightly tanned and his hair a warmer chestnut colour that curls behind his ears. The scar on his lip relaxes as his joking smile fades to a proper one, a lovey-dovey type that melts you. It’s nice to be looked at so nicely, like just the sight of you inspires happiness.

You shift off of your legs, deciding you might as well lay flat with your head in his lap instead. He lets you sink down. His hand takes up station near your cheek, the back of his curled fingers brushing the skin just shy of your eye.

“This is nice,” he whispers.

“I have to say sorry,” you whisper back, drawing shapes into his t-shirt, the soft muscle of his stomach pillowy to poke.

Remus nods emphatically. “Yes, you didn’t come and see me as soon as you woke up. I heard you on your phone in bed. That’s not very nice, is it, depriving me of your company?”

You shake your head into his thigh, a slow, guilty movement. “No, about last night.”

“What about last night?”

Last night, Remus had given you a very slow kiss. He’d been half asleep and you’d been more so, but it was a lovely kiss and his hand had been rubbing sweet half circles into your hip, but it still made you feel awful when he asked if he could touch you and you’d told him you were too tired, even if he didn’t mind. He’d just kissed your cheek and snuggled into you like a life-sized teddy bear. He never takes your rejection as an insult.

“You… you wanted to fuck and I didn’t, I’m sorry. I feel like every time you ask lately I say no.”

Remus frowns at you. Deep frown, eyebrows pinching and brown eyes bordering sullen. His fingers uncurl over your cheek and cover your ear as he cups your face. “I don’t want you to be sorry. The reason I ask is so you can say no, you can always say no.”

“I kiss you, and I wind you up, and then I can’t–”

“Which I enjoy. You don’t have to worry about that.” He leans down to kiss you but doesn’t fully get there, your noses touching, and then he’s leaning away again. “Please don’t say sorry. You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know that. I’m not trying to make you into the bad guy.”

Remus taps your nose with his and leans in again. “I know you’re not. You aren’t one either. Sex is just another fun thing to do, okay? If you don’t want to, that shouldn’t bother me, and it doesn’t. I promise.”

You curl your arms around his neck. He lifts his head, subsequently lifting you as he moves, his arm curling behind your back for a hug.

“Sometimes I want more of you than you want to give,” he says, “but it’s just because I love you, not because I need it. Don’t be silly, dove. Don’t say sorry.”

He presses the heel of his palm to your back and begins the heavy pressure of a back rub. You won’t say sorry if he doesn’t want you to. You shouldn’t anyways. But he’s your boyfriend and you love him, so his being accepting of it is a relief.

Like he can read your mind, he says, “You never have to say sorry for this.”

“I know.” You lift your chin. “Kiss?”

Remus kisses you quickly before tucking you into his neck for a long hug.

❥ James

“You’re beautiful.”

You’re boiling. James doesn’t notice, kissing and kissing and kissing, your neck flushed with his touch and his murmured compliment. “James.”

He tilts his head, weaving in on the other side of your neck to give it the same loving treatment. “Pretty doesn’t cover it,” he says in a rush, his teeth scratching dully up to your jaw, his kissing like nips without any pain behind them as he reaches your cheek.

You catch his face in your hands and push him away gently. It’s so hot in here you can’t breathe, and you’re not in the mood for any further action. It’s funny. You adore his kisses and James is undeniably a good fuck, but your libido is low no matter how pretty your boyfriend is, or how pretty he finds you. You’d always wondered if that meant there was something wrong with you.

James doesn’t seem to think so.

“Sorry,” he says, beaming, “that’s enough, right?”

You feel a weird sharp stab in your chest. “Sorry?”

“I’m getting ahead of myself.” James sits up where he’d been lying on top of you, having manoeuvred such a position in the midst of all his warm kisses. He sits back on his calves, kneeling in the space between your legs, a hand falling instead to your knee. “It’s fucking hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Sorry.”

“Did you make it hot?”

You look at your hand on your chest. He’s noticed you don’t want to take it any further, you hardly ever do. You knew he’d see that eventually. You have the libido of a panda, where James is an athletic young man who loves you.

“No, I mean. I’m sorry, because I never want to when you want to.”

Your serious tone surprises him. “Baby, what the fuck are you talking about?” he asks. “I am so lost.”

“Just– Most of the time when you try to sleep with me I turn you down. You know already.”

“Baby, that doesn’t matter.” He leans in again, only to hold your wrists, two big hands curled around your arms to stop your fidgeting. Two pet names in quick succession is unlike him, and it relaxes you before he’s begun to explain. “It doesn’t matter at all. Just makes it better when we do manage to want it at the same time.”

You grimace. “Are you sure?”

“You want me to be honest?”

You’re not sure. “Yeah. Please be honest.”

“Sometimes we kiss and you know I want you,” his eyes dart down, prompting a surprised laugh from you, and an easy chuckle from him in return, “and it’s frustrating, but it’s not ‘cos of you. I can go shower and sort myself out and it’s not the same as being with you, but it’s not your fault. It’s just a reaction.”

“But I feel bad for making you deal with it yourself.”

“What are you supposed to do? You can’t force yourself if you’re not in the mood. That’s the last thing I want you to do. I’d rather have it fall off.”

You laugh again. James’ smile is glowing, and warm as he presses it to your wrist in a chaste kiss. “We can do other things. If you feel that badly about it, you can give me a scalp massage, please. You shouldn’t feel badly about it, but still. If you’re okay with it, I’d love one.”

He presses his cheek to your chest in want of your hand.

You press your fingertips to his hairline and weave your fingers into the roots of his soft hair, shaking them, nails scratching lightly at his scalp like you know he likes. “How’s that?” you ask.

“Better than sex.” He is unmistakably sincere.

❥ Sirius

“Did you lock the door?”

Sirius hums.

“Close the kitchen window?”

“I did,” he says, waving your hand gently where he’s holding it between you both. You lay straight in bed with the duvet up to your chests and the TV playing one of his favourite movies.

“Okay. Did you take your medication?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Everything’s done. You can relax.”

You pick your book up and open it to the first page. You’ve been meaning to read this one for a while, you’re happy to get the time, but you’re feeling queasy about something.

Sirius is a loud guy. He loves the glitz and glamour of life, he likes to go out, play fast and hard, he’s electric most of the time. He can be quiet, too, like you tend to be, but you’re worried that you’re another night closer to him deciding he’s bored. It’s been weeks since you went anywhere, and you haven’t fucked in almost as long.

“Can I have this?” he asks, pulling your hand to his lips.

You smile as he kisses your knuckles, barely there presses of his lips to your skin that linger.

“You haven’t turned a page yet.”

“It’s hard to start,” you tell him.

“What’s it about? Fantasy?”

“No, just a romance, I think.”

“I like your romances. You read the complicated ones with the good love, like ours.”

It’s a very nice thing to say, even if you’re not sure how he knows what romance you’re reading. He enjoys listening to you talk about books when they’re done, so perhaps the details have sunk in.

You let the book flop to the side and curl up around your joined hands. “I love you,” you say.

He curls into you in return, “You should. That was a good line,” he says teasingly. “I love you too, my girl.” He speaks it with a quiet, gentle cadence that suits him and the pet name well. “Lift your head. Wanna see you.”

You angle your face up to give him a view of the half that isn’t hidden by the sheets. “I’m so boring.”

“Says who?”

“Everybody, probably. All we do is watch TV and sleep.”

“Good thing I love both of those things.” He wraps an arm around you, palm to your shoulder. “And it’s not true. We went to the cafe yesterday after work. On the weekend, we’re going to the cinema. Why, do you want to do more?”

“It’s not me I’m worried about, Siri. Aren’t you bored?”

He stares at you. Long, non-judgmental looking, his dark lashes kissing in the corners as his gaze wanders down to your neck. “Is this about something else?”

“No.”

His mouth turns sympathetic, a wobbly frown. “Are you sure, lovely? You can talk to me.”

You weigh each word as you say it, determined not to embarrass yourself, “I’m worried that I don’t make your life very interesting. We don’t go out much, we don’t drink, and I never…”

You turn your face down, your forehead to his chest. Sirius hums unhappily and encourages your head back to see you again almost immediately. “You never what?” he asks.

“Never mind.”

“No, please. Tell me, Y/N. You can tell me anything, I won’t care.” He’s getting so serious about it and it’s making it even more embarrassing than before, but you don’t want him to worry. You spit it out.

“I don’t put out. We hardly ever have sex.”

“Does that upset you?” he asks.

“Well. It upsets me if it upsets you.”

“It doesn’t.” His hand cups your cheek, his forehead drops down to yours. “It doesn’t upset me. Did I make you think that?”

“You’re just so cool and I’m your loser.”

He laughs happily. “You’re my loser,” he agrees.

“The last couple of times I’ve said no. I guess I just worry you want more than I’m giving out, so. I don’t want you to wish we were having more sex, but I can’t make myself want it more.”

“I see.”

You listen to him breathing, the warmth of his exhale like a kiss all its own as it fans over your mouth.

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “Can I tell you what I think?” You nod, and he continues, “I only want to have sex with you, that’s one of the consequences of being in love. It’s a good one. So if you don’t wanna have sex, it’s safe to say I don’t want to either. Okay? Love you just as much with or without it.”

Unlike him and not to be this tender. You bite the inside of your lip.

“Promise?” you ask.

“I promise.”

#the marauders #marauders #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction #james potter fanfiction #remus lupin fic #sirius black fic #james potter fic #the marauders x reader #the marauders x fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter

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cheeseceli · 3 days

Text

When you struggle to eat

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, reactions

Request: reader thinking she eats "too much" and decides to eat way less for her body image, and how the skz boys would react to that.

Warnings: eating struggles will be discussed; reader has body image issues; mentions of food multiple times; use of petnames in Chan and Changbin's

Disclaimer: this was made with the purpose to comfort anyone who's going through a similar situation. If I made a mistake and made someone uncomfortable/aggravated the situation, please do tell me and I'll correct or delete this post immediately, whatever is preferred. Topics related to eating disorders will be discussed here, please don't read if that's something that triggers you.

Bang Chan - is ready to listen to all your worries

‌We all remember Chan's Room right?

‌He's ready to spend hours if needed just to understand what you're going through ‌and where your insecurities are coming from

‌At the same time, he will never judge you

‌So you know he's your safe place

Constantly checks up on you even if he's far away through texts and calls

And if there's someone who's aggravating the situation or making you insecure, you can bet he's gonna solve the situation himself

"Talk to me baby. What's going on in that mind of yours, hm?"

Lee Know - eats with you

Probably the first to realise something's off, considering food is almost his love language atp

Likes to have as many meals with you as possible

‌He usually makes a mountain of food in his plate, so you don't worry about the amount of food in yours

‌And he also runs errands with you

‌Especially those like buying food

‌You don't even gotta ask, he would be volunteering on the first opportunity

‌Also cooks for you, whatever you want

"Do you want to eat anything? I can cook"

Changbin - Hype man

‌Your personal hype man fr

‌Is ready to compliment you in absolutely everything

‌The best part is that you know that his compliments are always genuine

‌What do you mean you didn't like that trousers?? You looked fantastic in it! That shirt made you look even more gorgeous

‌He has known you for so long and still, he always finds something new to compliment you on

But even if after all the reassurance you want to change the way you look, he will be by your side to help you do it in a safe and healthy way

"You look perfect, baby. I promise. Actually, I still don't believe I managed to pull someone so beautiful like that"

Hyunjin - has all meals with you

‌And with that, I really mean all meals

‌Breakfast, lunch, dinner, you name it

‌Even if you can't really get out of your work place or your university, he's going there then

‌He just doesn't want you to be by yourself

‌He also always has something to say during those meals

‌News about their comeback, gossip at jyp, stories from his childhood...

He never fails to admire you a lot in those moments as well, never letting you forget how much he loves and appreciates you

‌He does that hoping it will distract you from the food, so you can be more at ease

"Have I ever told you about the time Kkami bit my ankle? I think I still have the scar."

Han - makes you feel beautiful

‌He truly doesn't understand how you don't think you're the most beautiful human being to ever set foot on this earth

‌In his eyes, you were born perfect

‌So, naturally, he makes it his mission to make you see yourself in his point of view

‌Compliments and adores you

‌Will make you feel beautiful, pretty, sexy, cute... Whatever you wanna be

‌Above all, he'll make you feel loved

"No matter what size, you'll always be my love. Don't forget that."

Felix - distracts you

‌With that, I mean that he tries to take your attention off food and body image related subjects

‌Before and after eating, he will always bring you along to activities where your mind can be turned off

‌So many fun dates!!

‌Even during the meals he'll have a similar idea to hyunjin and simply won't shut up

‌Most of his compliments don't involve around your body, so you really don't think about it

"I love this hairstyle of yours. It looks wonderful"

Seungmin - protects you

‌In a sense that no one even dares to comment on your looks/habits

Even if he isn't there with you

‌That because he made it very clear that everyone should watch their mouths around you

‌For as long as he's around you, he will do his best and more to protect you from harmful comment

Also tries to experiment a lot of different foods with you all the time, so you never feel like that's a burden or a bad thing

"Hey, have you heard about the new restaurant close to home? The food is peruvian. We could have dinner there tonight."

I.N - physically reassures you

‌He loves you and every single part of you, including your looks

I believe he was a bit lost in the beginning, not exactly sure on how to help you

‌But even if his words aren't exactly his biggest strength, he still wants to reassure you as much as he can

‌So he does that with his touch

‌Holding you on his lap, kissing all of your "imperfections" and tracing patterns in your skin

‌Anything that can ground, reassure and give you comfort at the same time

"Have I ever told you how perfect you are? I should tell you that more."

Masterlist | you'll probably like: when you're overworked (ateez comfort)

Thank you for reading<3 I hope this was able to help someone

» I won't put the taglist on this one as I don't want to tag anyone in something that can possibly trigger them «

Dividers by @/cafekitsune, images 1 2 3

Thank you so much for the beta readers: @duhgurl @beebee18 @applekiwi3202 @elqivxstxr @mrsunshine999 @msauthor

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jazzyoranges · 5 months

Text

Pinky Promise - drabble

Tara Carpenter x gn!reader

Summary: cuddly Tara strikes again

Words: 0.9k

A/n: very much inspired by this fic, please go read it i beg you

This was your worst fucking nightmare. Well, something close to this.

You’d expect maybe Anika or Mindy to set you up for failure, but your own mother? You were her kin, for christ’s sake!

Not to mention the woman knew what she was doing. Once she pulled the “Oh, it seems there isn’t enough beds for all your friends! My, I must’ve counted wrong!” You knew it was over from the start.

Mindy and Anika shared a bed, Chad and Ethan shared an air bed, leaving Tara to sleep on the couch. Which, you offered Tara to sleep in your room while you slept on the couch, but god did she make it fucking hard. The brunette insisted you sleep on your bed since you were the one driving most of the time during the road trip, but unfortunately your urge for hospitality rivaled her

You argued Tara looked far sleepier, and you thought it was settled when she didn’t respond

You were pretty fucking wrong.

When the time came and you eventually left your bathroom to go to the living room, you don’t expect to see a Tara in a band tee that was about two sizes too big on her, Hello Kitty shorts that barely poked out of her large shirt, and a bunny stuffed animal you gave her not too long ago

She grabbed your hand before you knew what was happening, and pulled you into your room. Half of the reason why you didn’t want to sleep in there was because of how you could distinctly tell your teenage self wore too much eye makeup and chains. The thought makes you cringe, and Tara only laughed at your expression

“Let’s go to bed, please?” You should’ve fucking said no. But how were you supposed to? Tara was looking up at you with her big brown eyes, a shirt that was probably yours, and a sad expression. You couldn’t have said no if you tried.

So here you were, looking at the ceiling in a small bed with Tara’s back touching your arm. A blanket covered her entire body while it only covered your midsection with your hands fidgeting on top of it

You feel the younger Carpenter shiver due to your close proximity, and you realize it’s actually cold in the house. Well, you were awake and you did live here, so it was probably your responsibility to make sure everyone was comfortable. If Tara was cold, everyone else probably was too

It takes a little maneuvering to get up with as little squeaks as possible, but you’re eventually successful. You think so, until you feel something around your wrist

“Don’t sleep on the couch…” You hear Tara mumble half asleep

“You were shivering, I’m changing the temperature” You whisper back, leaning towards her as she huffs

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

Your forehead wrinkles as you think, but you eventually have an idea

“I pinky promise” You stick out the small digit of your hand, and Tara eventually meets you halfway. When she lets go you assume she approves of your leave

The journey to the thermostat isn’t a very long one and you’re back in about a minute, the only challenge being not running up the stairs because you’re afraid of the dark

Tara acts like you’ve been away for years when you come back. Once you’re in arm distance, she pulls you down very quickly

“S’not enough, still cold” Tara mumbles into your chest as she crawls on top of you like it’s nobody’s business. Her arms trap you on both sides after she pulls the blanket over you both. You can tell she’s warm when she sighs and makes sure you know how comfortable you are

“You’re like a teddy bear… my teddy bear” You don’t know how to respond, but Tara obviously does

“I can’t believe you got up for nothing”

“The others might’ve been cold, you know”

“The others can fuck off” Tara yelps when you pinch her nose

“Don’t be mean”

“Mmm… whatever” The brunette sighs again, who’s now in a position with you that resembles a cheetah and their support dog

Now this was your worst fucking nightmare.

Tara, god bless bless her, was a light sleeper. If you moved an inch she’d feel it but now that she was on top of you, you were really fucked

“You’re tense”

“Go to sleep” You whisper

“Pillows are supposed to be soft, not hard” She whispers back, looking directly into your eyes

“Last time I checked, people aren’t supposed to be pillows” Tara snickers at your dumb joke and you resist the urge to poke at her dimples

“Now you’ve got me all awake”

“Be so for real, you’d fall asleep instantly if I stopped talking to you”

“Yeah, you’re right. I would” The brunette rubs her cheek against your shirt, almost like she’s trying to burrow into your chest. A few moments pass, and you’re finally feeling the effects of driving for most of the day. You can feel your body relax more every second

“I love you” Tara whispers so quietly you don’t know if you’re hearing her correctly. You fall asleep before you figure it out

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #scream #tara carpenter #scream 6 #jenna marie ortega #ethan landry #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko

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bratbby333 · 29 days

Text

your beauty never scared me ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️ suguru geto

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ synopsis: after having your heart broken, your best friend helps you pick up the pieces ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ content + warnings: nsfw + mdni !! fem!reader x suguru, reader was in a toxic relationship + cheated on, fwb!suguru, angst, comfort, smut, unprotected sex ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ word count: 5k (+ a smau!! woo!!) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ author notes: pink indicates reader's pov, orange is suguru's...inspired by Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green <3 also this was not beta read so pls excuse any typos xx i hope yall enjoy !!

Heartache has its own special way of ruining someone…

...stripping away every ounce of self-respect you work so hard to accumulate. That’s the trouble with letting people in. The outcome is almost always undecided, left in the hands of fate or whatever the hell you believe in. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness, letting a stranger entangle themselves with every fiber of your being, see every inch of your skin, explore the darker parts of your mind– even the things you hide from yourself. Putting trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. Never knowing someone’s true intentions until you discover them in bed, in your bed, with another. When something breaks inside of you, something cynical puts the pieces back together. You are a shell of who you once were. Blame it on soul-crushing character development.

It’s hard to watch the woman you love destroy herself…

...for the sake of holding on to someone who has only ill-intent in their heart. Perhaps it’s best to remove yourself. It’s agonizing, knowing you have the ability to save her from all this. You could relieve her of the heartache, free her from the suffering. Bring her nothing but joy. She has changed, evolved, and is nearly unrecognizable now. You watch as he withers her down into nothing. That man broke her, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And the woman you see now isn’t the same one you knew all those years ago.

The cold air of December flurries around outside as your chest erupts in warmth at the sight of her name illuminating your lock screen. She asks to see you, and you’d be a fool to decline. As she’s sat before you, you take in every part of her that you missed. But she’s different now. Dull eyes, sloping shoulders, her cheekbones are sunken in as her clothes hang from her figure like it's two sizes too big. But it isn’t, you remember the day she bought that t-shirt. The soul that normally inhabits her body has been replaced with something…unrecognizable. You know it’s her, but your mind tells you otherwise. The way her voice lilts from her lips, how chillingly different she sounds while delivering the news, it’s heartbreaking.

She informs you she won’t be around much, mentioning that it will take time for her to heal from this. You pretend to be supportive of the distance she wants to place between herself and her loved ones, even though it absolutely crushes you.

There’s something peaceful about loneliness…

…only relying on yourself for company. It can be draining of course. With the few friends you do have, you make the most of it. It’s a serene feeling, private even. People perceive you however they please, but only a few trusted individuals know your ins and outs. It's refreshing.

God forbid you have to cater to someone else, especially when dating. It's hard enough having to take care of yourself. You make sure your friends know they’re loved and appreciated, of course, but the idea of inviting another person into your life; someone who demands your time and attention in order for it to work out? No thank you. It’s backfired for you many times before, you aren’t willing to go through it again. Your friends have watched you heal from heartbreak after heartbreak, each one more damning than the last. No one blames you for your cynicism, it’s understandable.

Plus, the emotional upkeep of a romantic relationship is exhausting. And the idea of meeting someone, falling for them, and it not working out in the end? Torturous. Why put yourself through all that?

“You just haven’t found the right one!”

“They’ll come around when you least expect it!”

“You gotta put yourself back out there!”

Blah, blah, blah. Not interested. There’s no room for hopeless romance in this ill-fated world. You’re not dealing with that pain anymore. Not if you can help it.

The trouble with love is that it’s cruel…

…discriminatory, even. Picking and choosing who gets to rejoice in its bliss and simultaneously alienating the unfortunate souls who suffer in its unyielding grip. You attempt to find peace in the silence of her absence, telling yourself that she’s okay, but knowing all too well that her precious heart is still shackled to someone so undeserving. You hold on to the irregular check-in’s you get from her. You hope she’s healing, and you prepare yourself for the outcome; that when she finally returns, she will not be the same person she was.

Betrayal has a pesky habit of sticking around…

…a lingering feeling that still eats away at you. The night you caught him in his infidelity, something deep within you broke. It wasn’t your heart, no, that would be too simple. It was your psyche, the core of your being. The day he left, a part of you left with him. The chemistry of your brain changed, your atomic makeup shifting toward nihilism.

So you move through life differently now. Every positive outlook you once had now cast to the wayside, replaced with unyielding suspicion in attempts to keep your heart guarded from the outside world. Hope has finally run out, the idea that there’s good in everyone proven to be a goddamn lie. You shove your desire for love into a padded safe and hide it away on a forgotten shelf in your mind. Hell, you’d burn that obnoxious feeling if you could. Run it through a meat grinder, chuck it into a volcano, nuke it. Doesn’t matter. Anything to stop it from tearing you apart. It’s not like it’s done you any good. Besides, who would want someone as damaged as you?

Part of you feels guilty…

…for sitting idly by, knowing your dear friend was hurting so deeply. But there wasn’t much you could do. You grant her space, knowing she wasn’t given that same courtesy for four years of her life. You pray she returns soon, aware that she doesn’t do well on her own. Her own mind is acting like a prison, holding her hostage, forcing her to relive her pain day in and day out. But, god damn it, you can’t take it anymore. You have been without her for so long. So you reach out, demanding she spend time with you. Self-isolation can only get you so far. It had been months since you’d seen her last. And to your surprise, she agrees.

A spring evening, 65 degrees, the setting sun…

…a gentle breeze that laps at your warm skin as you sit cross-legged on a checkered blanket. The beautiful flowers of May decorate the ground in colorful clusters. The cicadas sing while the bees are busy buzzing around. It’s a strange feeling; coping with the fact that your life has reached rock-bottom, a total stand-still as you work to heal yourself, yet life continues to move, to grow, to thrive. It’s inspiring in a way. You are accompanied by Suguru. He managed to get you out of the house after weeks of rotting away inside, anchored down by the gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak.

Laughter echoes through the park as the two of you revel in the serenity. Life feels…good. Whole. Worth living. It’s been a while since it has felt this way. It shouldn't feel strange, but it does. Happiness has become a foreign concept to you.

Sitting before you is the woman you love…

…the color in her cheeks has returned, the fullness of her face present once more. After suffering through the many months of thunder and unrelenting downpour in her mind, she has bloomed once more. Finally. You couldn’t pull your attention away from her even if you wanted to, your body and mind drawn to her in the most spiritual way. Even though she’s deep in thought, working to take in her surroundings, her beauty is still very much evident. She isn’t even aware of the power she holds– utterly entrancing. You would do anything to live in this moment forever. You’d do anything for her.

But in this moment…

…with a forgotten feeling of fulfillment creeping its way into your chest as the soft rays of the sun dance across your skin and the sounds of nature swirl through your ears, you realize something. Something so beautiful, yet so fucking terrifying. You love him. Suguru. Maybe it was just your heartache talking, connecting dots that had no business associating.

You brush it off, hide it away, and chalk it up to just being in a vulnerable moment. Your heart had been torn from your body only a few months prior. Anger still rips through your chest when you think about it. Four years wasted on someone you had placed on the highest pedestal, far higher than you placed your family, your friends…yourself. You were blindsided. In an instant, everything you had come to love, the home you felt safe in, the person you thought you knew…ripped away. Like it was nothing at all.

Suguru has done what he could to mend the wounds for you, knowing good and well that if you are left to your own devices you would spiral past the point of return. And as renewing as this spring evening is, you know you will never be the same again.

But you can’t help but fixate on the way he makes you feel. And as hard as you try to push those feelings away, they continue to bubble up. What happens when it finally reaches its boiling point?

You’re only human. You have wants, needs, and desires…

…so who do you turn to for that release? Suguru, of course. Isn’t that what friends are for?

Some would say it’s an evil thing to do; to use someone for pleasure, your own personal gain. A part of you understands that, too. Sure, it may have started out that way, but it’s shifted. And that scares the shit out of you, how you find yourself searching for his validation, the sadness you feel when he leaves in the morning after a night full of fun. So why not tell yourself that you’re just doing what you need to do, rather than what you want to do. Ignoring the fact that deep down you really fucking love it.

It’s not like you’re taking advantage of him and the bond you share…not really, anyway. The two of you are very close, having known each other for ten years. Side by side, maneuvering through a decade of emotional ups and downs; personal dilemmas, weird family dynamics, terrible relationships, fluctuating hormones and unexpected cast changes within your friend group. But the two of you have always stayed consistent, the main characters. Your personalities mesh well, constantly riffing off one another. Never ending laughter and smiles. He's seen you at your absolute worst and vice versa. The true definition of unconditional love. So why not get a little more from him? After all this time, it feels warranted, well-deserved, even. Ignoring what you feel for him, it just makes sense that this is how it should go down. Plus, if it was such a bad idea, why would he agree?

You would accept her…

…in any way she chooses to present herself to you. After years of watching her hurt, you finally have your friend back, and there isn’t anything you wouldn't do to make her happy. Especially with guilt that you still feel, knowing there was nothing you could have done that would’ve saved her from her suffering. So when she suggests the idea of being friends with benefits, you’d be insane to deny her that. Is it a bad idea? Perhaps. You refuse her offer? She slips away, seeking refuge in the arms of another, someone who could hurt her…Never again.

You crave her so deeply that this arrangement seems perfect. Even though you dread the morning after, not wanting to leave her side…jumping on every opportunity to see her, showering her in praise every time you’re nestled deep within her warmth– the way her eyes light up at your word makes you melt. Is it possible she feels the same way? The more you think about it, the less crazy the idea seems. Would she leave you in the dust if you told her the truth? You don’t want to risk losing her. Not if you can help it. But you can’t confess your underlying intentions. Even though a deep part of you hopes for more, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Hide it. You get to be with her in a way that you never have before, and that’s enough for you…right?

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It all transpired after one drunken night playing a confessional card game with your friend group. You were shit-faced and horny, and he wasn’t any better off. You’re honestly surprised his dick still worked that night, but god did it work. You didn’t expect it to go any further after that, assuming it was a one-off occasion. The two of you never really addressed what happened, either, didn’t take the time to have a real conversation about it. Just a quick “hey, do you wanna…” followed by an indifferent “yeah, why not?”, and that was that. Which is probably a good thing, because any more talking would have most likely resulted in your true feelings coming to the surface. But it happened, and is still happening, so who are you to complain? It’s perfect.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

Your friends and random on-lookers alike say you’re compatible, and yeah, they might be right, but fuck that. Why risk the friendship you cherish so deeply for a title? That's idiotic. It's borderline insanity. The minute you put a label on something it all comes crashing down. So, why ruin a good thing?

Don’t overthink it. It’s nothing serious, and it never will be. You refuse to open yourself up to somebody else, someone new. No more getting hurt. You’ve let Suguru into your life in a more meaningful way than you have for anyone else. And that’s far enough.

Does he know every little thing about you? Sure.

Does he care for your well-being? Yeah.

Is he attentive, thoughtful, and supportive? Of course…it is Suguru after all.

But so what? That's what friends are for.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You and Suguru see each other frequently, at least three times a week, whether it’s just a normal hangout or…a hangout. You just get what you need and go; a good laugh, dinner and a movie, casual drinks, or a heaven-sent dick appointment. You both seem content, enjoying one another’s company and…bodies…and minds and souls.

Fuck.

It’s hard to ignore your totally natural, human need for deeper intimacy. But you try to, and damn do you try hard. It would probably be best for you to stop hooking up with Suguru and just go back to how things were.

You can’t go through this. Not again. You’ve already shifted the perfectly normal dynamic you once had into something deeper. Something…real. There’s no turning back now. So you continue to hide behind your ego, fighting off every demon known to man in hopes that this will all just go away.

You’ve been somewhat successful in suppressing your feelings, molding them into something more manageable. You are best friends, with the addition of benefits. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. You pretend to be ignorant of Suguru's awe-inspiring beauty. How his energy is absolutely addicting, the way his lingering touch burns your skin so beautifully. He makes you feel seen for everything you are and appreciates you for everything you’re not. That sentiment alone propels you through the unexplored cosmos, crossing the line between reality and nirvana as starlight dances across your skin.

Not to mention, when you two are actually fucking? It's like two parts of the same soul finally meeting after centuries of arduous searching. You don’t know where your body stops and his begins, entangled in the most profound way.

God. You sound insane. This is no way to view a friend…your best friend, at that. Get it together.

What would you even call this? Touch starved? No, he touches you plenty…and in all the right places, too. Is it desperation? Your insatiable need for love? Karmic punishment for all your failed relationships? The corny trope where you end up falling for your best friend? As much as you want to fight against the feelings you have for him, it’s too late.

Whatever. Just play it off. You refuse to let your walls down. And you’d hate to give Suguru the satisfaction of being the one who commandeered heavy machinery and sent a wrecking ball toward your emotional fortress.

If you don’t acknowledge your feelings they’ll just cease to exist, right? Yeah, that’s how it works. And it’s a super healthy coping mechanism, too.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

All this deep pondering and emotional soul searching has got you worked up. You decide to see if Suguru wants to come over. Not because you miss him, or anything. It’ll be nothing more than a casual hook up. Dick only, no feelings.

You catch yourself giggling at his messages. Gross. You brush it off with a shake of your head, a violent wave of self awareness washing over you.

I'm not going through this again. I refuse.

You read the messages over and over. Do you seem desperate? Do your texts carry the perfect amount of indifference? Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s just Suguru, anyway. He's stuck around this long, it would take a lot to scare him off, now.

The plan’s in motion, and you’re going to have a good time tonight. You feel your heart rate spike at the thought of seeing him. That's a totally normal reaction for someone who has no feelings involved, right? Just friends…right?

Suguru chuckles as he reads your response. Excitement floods through his body in anticipation. Is it finally time to confess? His own eagerness catches him off-guard. He can’t. It’s too soon. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Keep it together.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It’s been so long since the feeling of joy has drifted between these barren walls. You take a swig of your drink, exhaling happily through your nose as the sweet juice dances with the sting of the liquor, warming your chest as you swallow. Leaning back on the couch with one leg kicked up on the coffee table, you absentmindedly swirl your glass as you gaze at Suguru.

“I’m really happy to see that you’re doin’ better,” he muses, taking a sip before setting his cup down. You offer him a small nod paired with a gentle smile, looking back at the drink nestled between your fingers; the ice that’s creating condensation on the outside, the way the sun seeps between the half-open curtains in your living room, the cooing of birds just beyond your window panes. Quite frankly, you’re trying your hardest to focus on anything but him. Ignoring the thrum of your heart every time you look into his eyes, pretending the smooth cadence of his voice doesn’t make your body tremble.

Say you do confess? What then? Is that really something you want, anyway? Or is it just nice to lust after someone? No, it’s not that. You really do love him. You haven’t even considered the possibility of him reciprocating these feelings, and odds are if he does, you’ll just run for the hills, not willing to open your heart up again. Your last relationship destroyed you. There’s no way you’ll allow someone to fill that void. Not with the possibility that it’ll all be a farce.

After a moment of silence, you finally speak up. “Me, too. And it’s all thanks to you, Sugu.” You finally meet his gaze, and it’s as if his eyes are attempting to pierce through you with how intently he’s looking at you. His expression quirks as if to ask what you mean. You decide to test the waters a bit. Fuck it.

“You…you’ve made me feel…whole again,” your words come out a bit choppy and drawn out, still battling with your decision to come clean. Your eyes dart around his face before looking away once more. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of if you want to elaborate. Even if you stop here, it’s okay. That’s a totally normal thing to say to a friend who helped you in your time of need.

Your head snaps toward him at the sound of your name. More is said, but you focus on the way he addresses you. He says it so softly, so gently, like the very syllables of your title grace his tongue as they sway from in between his vocal cords. For four years, your name was used against you, weaponized with anger and hatred. But his words are relayed to you with nothing but love behind them.

Your ears are ringing as you stare at him blankly. You shake your head in hopes to clear the thoughts that are clouding it. “Wait…wha? What did you just say? The last part?”

“I said, it’s because I love you,” he smiles as he watches your face flush. Time slows as your heart rate speeds up. You brows furrow a bit, trying to piece together what the hell is going on. A million thoughts spin through your head as you stare at him. “You…love…me? Like, in a ‘best friends’ kinda way, right?” You’re shocked as he shakes his head. “No. I love you, and I have for a while. In a more than friends kinda way,” he laughs a bit before leaning forward, reaching for your hand. “You love me, too. Don’t you?”

“I-” your words get caught in your throat as his fingers rub against the back of your hand. As calm and collected as Suguru seems on the outside, he is spiraling on the inside. He isn’t sure where this newfound confidence is coming from, but he decides to roll with it. His heart thrums in his chest as he anxiously awaits your response. He has reached his tipping point, wanting nothing more than to finally be able to call you his.

You look down, staring at the place where the two of you meet, the feeling of electricity coursing through your body. A chill runs down your spine before you look back at him. “I-I do. I love you.”

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out across the bed. Your arms are wrapped tight around his neck as he gently thrusts into you with slow, deep ruts of his hips. His head is tucked into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing across your sensitive skin.

He leans back, looking down at you with a sweet smile, “You are so beautiful.” His eyes run up and down your body, taking in every dip and curve of your figure, before fixating on where the two of you meet. His lips part as he watches himself disappear inside of you, a deep moan breaking through his chest at the sight of your sweet juices coating his length. He rubs intricate circles into your clit, loving the way you sound as your body writhes under his touch.

Tears begin to pool behind your eyes as you gaze up at him, entranced by the way he manages to stimulate every sense in your body. This is what love truly feels like, bestowed upon you by a man who wants nothing more than to fulfill every facet of your life.

He presses his forehead against yours as he continues to pump into you, his movements influenced by nothing more than pure adoration.

The sun bounces off your features, illuminating your face in such an ethereal way. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the way the light makes your eyes glow. You are angelic in every sense of the word. Someone too pure for this realm, unfathomably delicate; sent to this world to be worshiped and protected.

“I love you. So much,” he groans. Every ounce of devotion he has for you is being pumped into your body with every plunge. It’s overwhelming for him. He's nearly bursting at the seams as he makes love to you, moving his hips so tantalizingly slow, but wanting to thrust into you with fervor, to pound the message into you that you are deserving of all love in the world, and that he will be the one to give it to you. But he takes his time, wanting nothing more than to savor you.

Small whimpers break through your throat. “I…ahh!– I love you, S-Suguru,” you moan, whining as his head brushes into your sweet spot, making your back arch off the bed as your chest presses into his. The pleasure raking through you is immeasurable, every neuron in your brain firing off at once. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every single part of him.

He cups the sides of your cheeks, brushing away your tears before placing two soft kisses over each eye. “Why’re you cryin’, my love?” he coos, concern evident on his face as he rubs his thumbs against your face. His hips pause as his eyes dart between yours.

“Just…’m just so happy,” you whisper, scrunching your nose up with a small sniffle before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles deeply before returning to his original pace.

“You deserve it...just wanna make you feel good, baby,” his hips press him into the deepest parts of you, rubbing against your sweet, gushing walls, but his pace remains deliberate. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world,” his teeth grit ever so slightly as he feels you clench down on him. “F-fuck, baby… fuck. You are just... incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to keep brushing against your g spot.

Even though you’ve had each other many times before, no other instance compares to the way you feel right now. Your body brimming with love, fulfillment…with him. His touch makes you feel reborn, like no one has ever hurt you before. His hands glide across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, his unyielding passion evident in the way he clings to you, and you to him.

“Sugu…” you gasp as he bottoms out once more. Short pants leave your lips as you feel the tightness in your stomach intensify. “P-please, keep goin’...I’m…gonna cum,” you mewl. His hands reach underneath your body, palming each asscheek as he lifts your lower half off the bed. The new angle makes your eyes roll as stars begin to dance around your head. “Me too…y’feel so fuckin’ good.” The fiction of his pelvis against your clit shoots ripples of pleasure through you. Your nails drag down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail. This feels otherworldly. His pace picks up a bit, pushing you to unravel, your body succumbing to bliss. The warmth that engulfs his lengths makes him reach his peak right after you, his hips stuttering as he works you both through your orgasms.

He props himself up on his forearms, making a conscious effort to not collapse on you and crush you with his body weight, though you would most definitely welcome it. He watches as your chest rises and falls, every soft pant that leaves your lips like music to his yearning ears. He can’t bring himself to pull out, loving the way your walls are still spasming around him. You stare into his eyes for a moment, running your fingers down his spine. A gentle moment of silence settles between to two of you. No words are spoken, but they don't need to be.

He begins to get up, but your legs lock around his waist immediately, resheathing him inside of you. “Baby–”, he begins to object, but your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, pulling him down as you kiss the spot below his ear, “Jus’ a few more minutes. Love having you like this.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he smiles into the crook of your neck. “You keep this up and we might just have to go again.”

And you do. For hours and hours, attempting to make up for all the years wasted. Your two souls engaging in the most mesmerizing dance. He is determined to replace all the heartache you feel with pleasure. And he does. You feel nothing but him. And he can’t focus on anything other than you. Rolling around together until the golden hue of the setting sun shifts into a light pink as it rises above the horizon. But it feels like no time has passed at all.

Suguru draws soft circles into your skin, holding you tight against his sweat-glistened chest. Your body trembles from the copious amount of pleasure coursing through you. A gentle peck is placed on the top of your head before he looks toward the ceiling. A sense of contentment washes over him, dancing with the soft pulse of his many orgasms still reverberating through his body. After years of waiting, you are finally his, and he is determined to grant you your well-deserved peace.

Dawning a robe, you sit on your balcony, listening to the birds sing you their habitual 'good morning'. The door slides open behind you, and Suguru takes a seat, presenting you with a cup of tea. A quiet thank you leaves your lips as the two of you take in the scenery before you.

“We should probably get some sleep now, huh?” You ask, turning to him as you take a sip, smiling at the fact that he knows exactly how you take your tea. But, of course he does. It’s Suguru.

He grins, “No…I don’t want to leave this moment behind just yet.” You blush, reaching your hand out to grasp his.

“Me neither.”

In his eyes, you are precious, the most important person in his life. The deep-rooted fear of not being worthy of love is disproven in the form of Suguru’s undying loyalty to you. He has waited years to be with you, and he would have waited years more. And as the two of you sit together, with your fingers intertwined and heartbeats in sync, you know there is nowhere else you want to be…no one else you want to be with. An unfamiliar feeling of safety creeps into your chest. You’re in good hands now.

Maybe opening yourself back up to love wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

author notes: this fic is incredibly self-serving...but i really needed this. i just want a pretty boy named suguru to save me from the heartache i feel rn ugh

my reqs are closed at the moment, but thirsts and chats are always welcome !!

alsoooo !! i just wanted to send out a big big thank you for 700 followers...im literally in shock i cannot believe it. im spinning around my room rn just thinking abt it. yall are amazing n i appreciate every single one of you 🫶🏼

tag list: @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @sadmonke

likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated !!

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sttoru · 5 months

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. love; you wonder if the king of curses is capable of feeling that emotion too. so, you take on a more direct approach to ask him.

word count. 1.7k

note. sukuna brainrot sorry. . .

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. angst (+ comfort) / fluff. size difference mentions. eh sukuna’s a bit mean. established relationship, but you’re like v early into the relationship.

it was a calm sunday evening. both sukuna and you had fulfilled your duties for the day. all you needed after working hard was the presence of the person you admire most. thus, you had made your way over to sukuna’s chambers. to your surprise, you already found him sitting on the engawa which led to the connected backyard.

sukuna noticed your presence, but didn't utter a word. he simply shot you a glance before continuing to stare into the distance. he seemed to be in deep thought about something. you didn’t want to bother him when he was like this, but the voice in your head told you to stay.

you silently kneel next to him and gather your hands in your lap. your eyes automatically move to focus on sukuna again. two of his hands are supporting his weight as they rest flat on the wooden surface. the other set rests limply on his thigh.

your gaze falls on his bottom left hand. the one he uses to kill, but also the one he uses to hold and caress you. you could easily recall its feel without having to touch him; rough, callused and warm. you reach your hand out towards his without hesitation.

sukuna’s eyes dart over to your small stature next to him. he allows you to grab his hand, to pull it over to your lap and let it rest palm up on your thighs. it’s almost funny. how big his hand is in comparison to yours.

the comfortable silence continues. the rustles of the leaves and the water movements in the koi pond in the yard are soothing to the soul. your finger traces the lines on sukuna’s palm, following them until they end before switching to the other.

the king of curses watches you play around with his hand. still with that stoic expression on his face. however, feeling your delicate touch on his skin and seeing you smile to yourself for whatever reason makes the corners of his lips curl up. for a split second.

a faint, amused grin. you sure are an interesting creature in his eyes.

“sukuna, can i ask you something?” you break the silence with a question. there is an unknown feeling in your chest; one that makes you restless at night. your smile slowly drops into a small pout when you think about what you want to ask him.

not a single action goes unnoticed by the man next to you. he lifts an eyebrow, but other than that, there’s no reaction visible. he answers you with a hum of approval, “mmh.”

you lift your head and look up at him. sukuna was already staring right at you—his piercing eyes catch your soft ones. he squints. there is something wrong with the way you are looking at him. normally, the smile you give him would reach your eyes. now it doesn’t.

that same smile completely disappears over time.

“do you.. are you..” you stammer. you don't know how to articulate your question. it’s probably dumb. to both you and him. sukuna watches you struggle to ask him whatever is on your mind. he firmly grabs your wrist and squeezes it. not too hard. he doesn't want to inflict any unneccesary pain.

sukuna sighs. a heavy sigh. one thing he dislikes is when you leave him in the dark. it isn’t the first time you did so during the past week. asking him if you could ask him a question and when he grants you the permission to, you back down or change topics.

it’s getting tiresome.

“spit it out.” sukuna grumbles. he pulls your body closer to his by your wrist, your arm stretched upwards with your hand hovering near the side of his face. his breath hits your wrist, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

crimson orbs stare right into your soul. you gulp and feel your body warm up. when you try to avert your gaze, one of sukuna's free hands grabs you by the jaw and steers your head to face him. his thumb presses down on your chin. he’s not letting it go today. he needs answers.

before sukuna could add to his words, you breathe in sharply. like you’re ready to ask him what had been weighing on your mind ever since a couple days back. oh, stupid it sure is. you know. you’re probably making it too big of a deal. when it isn’t. not in the slightest.

your eyes water. you blink the tears away. you don’t want to embarrass yourself any further by sobbing. your bottom lip trembles as you finally muster up the courage;

“do you love me?”

there it goes. you try to squirm away from sukuna’s grasp after that. you feel flustered. embarrassed. you just want to crawl into a hole and rot.

sukuna does not tighten his grip on you. instead, he loosens them. your wrist slips from his hand. your chin no longer restricted by his fingers. he lets you go.

a painful sting in your heart. you secretly hoped that he’d resist. pull you closer maybe. you don’t know why you expected that. you learnt not to get your hopes up around him and yet you always wish for him to do something.

a silence falls between the two of you again. you act like you didn’t ask him anything. you try to ignore the way sukuna clenched his jaw. how he subtly clicked his tongue. how he let you shuffle away from him.

you clear your throat. with hesistance this time, you gently grab one of sukuna’s hands again. that he allows you. you appreciate that. at least it means he isn’t completely upset. you know sukuna does not allow just anyone to touch him so without permission.

you hold tightly onto his hand like it’s your last hope. his fingers don’t close around yours, though. you don’t mind.

“what a foolish question.” sukuna scoffs and looks the other way. his voice was hoarse. probably from not speaking for quite what time. you silently nod. an expected answer, at last.

you stay silent after that. it hurts. more than you want it to have hurt. maybe it was too early into your relationship to ask such a question. you got into it, knowing fully well how harsh the man next to you could be sometimes.

what you can’t deny is that soft spot sukuna has for you. you see it. uraume sees it. the maids see it. sukuna probably.. knows of it, but doesn’t speak on it. he does not speak up about his feelings much anyway.

but it’s visible in his actions. the king of curses allows you to say and do whatever you want around him. he makes sure his subordinates treat you well. he looks at you with a hint of softness hidden in those red eyes. when he touches you, it’s firm but gentle. like he desperately craves to touch you, though knows not to make that yearning accidentally hurt you in any way.

the latter is what you love most about his soft spot for you. sukuna handles you with utmost care. even uraume had told you that it surprises them greatly whenever they witness the way their master treats you in general.

especially at night. you can’t count the amount of times you quite literally melted into his arms. those four, beefy arms that know just how to make you feel protected. you never sleep in unease. you know that nothing could hurt you when you’re laying against his chest.

sukuna’s actions speak volumes. despite all of that, you wish he’d at least tell you with his words. how much you mean to him.

“my apologies.” you give up. for today, you’ll let him be. the slight irritation in his voice earlier nearly made you cry. he needs more time and you’ll give him that. you slowly detach your small hand from his big, warm one, “i won’t ask you that again.”

sukuna frowns and grumbles something under his breath. you think it’s still because of your previous question, yet his gaze tells a different story. he narrows his eyes as he glares down at his now empty hand. you connect the dots once you see the man take a glimpse at your hand on your lap.

your touch. the sudden abscence of your touch.

“i didn’t say you could do that.” sukuna murmurs. his tone low and maybe even upset to a certain degree. you blink a few times and freeze on spot. the king of curses starts to get grumpy the longer you fail to take the hint.

he kisses his teeth out of impatience. sukuna tightly gets ahold of your hand again and softly yanks it towards him. you squeal as your body stumbles closer to his.

sukuna holds eye contact with you as he brings your hand to his mouth. his tongue wets a spot on your palm—specifically the area that connects your thumb with your wrist. your lips part, your tummy doing flips from the sudden touch.

“don’t let go again,” he bares his teeth before slightly sinking them into the soft flesh. it isn’t a hard bite. more a nibble that leaves a faint mark. what you didn’t expect was for sukuna to kiss that same place after marking it. his thumb runs over that exact spot as well, “got that?”

you nod. you’re unable to refuse him. those feelings of disappointment from earlier long forgotten. you intertwine your fingers with sukuna’s and unlike the previous instant, his fingers do curl back around yours. your skin is still tingling from the feeling of sukuna’s kiss.

the king of curses keeps your entwined hands on his lap this time. he stares off into the distance for a couple seconds before returning his gaze to you. he scans your face and finds what he had been missing;

that tender smile of yours. it was back, tugging at your lips. one of your fingers resumes its soothing motion on his rough skin again. sukuna’s face relaxes. his jaw unclenches.

“good.” sukuna nods at the sight. he turns to watch the night sky again—secretly (yet not so secretly) enjoying this moment of peace.

you’re content with how that ended. and, you’re sure that you don’t mind if it takes days, weeks or even months for your relationship to fully blossom. when you’re with sukuna, one thing is clear: actions do speak louder than words.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk angst #sukuna angst

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