#feels so crazy that this has been going on. right under my skin. and it's all explained now and i feel so much more in control.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (28/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Your pillow is comfortable - just like Charles' lap.

Warnings: 18+ (dry humping, mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst, Lando is a little shit

Word Count: 4.5k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: since you were all so patient with me - you deserve this. I hope you're sat, because y/n definitely is. feedback is appreciated!

"Good morning, mon amour," Charles whispers softly in your ear before you feel a faint puff of air against your cheek. Something soft and warm presses gently against your temple. "It's still quite early. You can go back to sleep if you want to." He rests his chin on your shoulder and you feel his chest against your back. "I'd like to go jogging, if that's okay with you."

Sleepy - and confused - you snuggle further into your comfy pillow. It's still dark in the room, but through the window you can already see the horizon changing color and announcing a new day. You yawn tiredly and close your eyes again. "You're waking me up to tell me you're going jogging? Are you crazy? Couldn't you have just written me a note or a text?"

Charles exhales through his nose. "I'm sorry, chérie. There was no other way. I have an appointment with my trainer and I'm already late." He gently puts his hand on your bare hip, where the shirt has ridden up and exposed a sliver of your skin. "All you have to do is let go of my arm and then I'll be gone and you can go back to sleep."

Your pillow moves almost imperceptibly beneath you and you raise your head to examine it, puzzled. You realize that you have been lying on Charles' arm and your hand has found its place on his forearm. You suppress a smile as you lie back down and press your cheek into the soft inside of his upper arm. "Nope. Unfortunately not possible. I'm afraid your arm is too comfortable for me to let you go right now."

Charles's fingers press a little harder into your hip, but his arm stays in place. "I won't be long. I promise." 

Drowsy and not fully conscious, you turn in his arms and lift your leg, only to wrap it around his waist and press yourself against him. The tip of your nose touches his bare chest. "You said yesterday that we would continue to share a bed so that I could sleep better. So you have no choice but to stay here with me." As you absentmindedly kiss his chest and press your hip against yours, you feel warm.

Charles laughs softly, but doesn't disagree with you. Instead, his arms wrap around you a little tighter. The hand that was on your hip a moment ago slides up your spine under your shirt. His fingertips dance over your warm skin until his hand rests gently on the nape of your neck, where it lingers lightly. "As far back as I can remember, I said I'd hold you in my arms if it meant you'd sleep better."

You gently lift your head from his chest so that you can look at him. Charles' eyes are closed, but a slight smile pulls the corners of his mouth upwards. "You do realize that you're digging yourself in deeper, don't you?"

He slowly opens his eyes and looks down at you. Without hesitation, he rolls you onto your back. You feel his weight on top of you as his hand disappears from your neck and rests against your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around his waist. "How silly. Looks like I've lost now." 

His weight on you, his warm breath on your face and his fingertips disappearing under the hem of your shorts cloud your thoughts. You look at him from under your eyelashes and have to swallow as his gaze darts from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. "How silly."

He opens his mouth slightly and he's so close to you that you can make out the different shades of green in his irises despite the darkness. His beard shades his beautiful face and you want to rub your cheek against it. Or feel the stubble on your thighs. Or - 

Charles leans so far down towards you that the tips of your noses touch. As he licks his lips, you think you can feel his tongue on your mouth. But maybe you're just too tired and imagining it. "I'd love to stay in this bed with you forever," Charles whispers, and as his fingers slide a little higher under your shorts, almost touching the curve of your ass, you involuntarily arch up towards him. Just as you think you can feel the hardness of his abdomen, he pushes himself off the bed with his other hand and pulls away. "But I really need to go jogging." A brief moment later, he stands in front of the bed and scratches the back of his neck. "I thought I might go grocery shopping afterwards. Just text me if you think of anything else you might need." 

Distracted by the warmth in your lower belly, you stare at him as he slips into the sports shorts you were wearing yesterday morning. His smell clings to you and you can't think straight as he sits down on the edge of the bed to pull white tennis socks over his feet. You push the covers off you and crawl across the bed to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hands rest on his warm chest. "You're mean, Charles." You brush a kiss on the soft skin under his ear and can feel his heart skip a beat.

He pauses in his movement. "You haven't called me that in days." He tilts his head a little so he can look at you. 

Puzzled, you return his gaze. "What do you mean? I always call you Charles."

Slowly, his fingers wrap around your wrists so that he can wriggle out of your embrace. But only so that his arm can wrap around your waist and he can pull you onto his lap. As you sit astride his thighs, he cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you have no choice but to look at him. 

He shakes his head slightly. "You called me Charles. English pronunciation. You've been calling me Charles since we had dinner with the others the other night."

You raise an eyebrow and squirm on his legs under his unyielding gaze. "And what did I call you now?"

"Sharl. French pronunciation." A glint sparkles in his eyes. 

"Is that good? Or bad?" you ask unknowingly and innocently, running your fingers through the short hair on the back of his neck. 

"What do you think?" His voice is no more than a whisper as his other arm wraps around your back and pulls you completely onto his lap so that you can barely move. Once again, his fingers slip just below the hem of your pajama shorts, fingertips almost digging into your flesh as he presses your crotch against his noticeable bulge. So hard that you might end up with bruises on your hips. But you don't care. You gasp in response. "Do I like this or not?"

The warmth that was previously spread throughout your body moves south, and you feel your arousal pooling in your shorts. The word friendship flashes faintly in your mind, but as Charles gently but firmly moves you over his hard-on and a low moan escapes his throat, you can't help but block it out completely. 

"Charles," you almost whine as you rock your hips back and forth without a thought and the tip of his brief-clad cock nudges against your clit. Electricity flashes through your veins and your skin burns where Charles touches you and you close your eyes, flushed with pleasure. 

"Nuh-uh." Charles's hand moves from your chin to the column of your throat and rests just at the base of your neck. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is deep and smoky as he makes you look into his eyes. Through half-opened eyes and with his mouth open, he grinds you over his boner, his breath stumbling and warming your face as you can do nothing but surrender to the sensation. 

Never in your life have you desired someone as much as Charles. Charles, exhaling as if relieved that he can release some tension, while your fingers dig into his shoulder blades to make sure he doesn't stop. The hem of your pyjamas and his boxer shorts rub so deliciously against your bundle of nerves and you moan shamelessly as the gorgeous man beneath you bites his lower lip, wishing it was yours he was nibbling on. 

"Charles, please," you beg, even though you don't know what for. You want his fingers on your throat, his mouth on yours. You want to feel how soft his lips are as he slides his cock home until you fall apart on him. You want to hear him say how good you feel, how much he desires you and that he lo-

"Fuck," Charles snaps you out of your thoughts, and before you can realize it, he releases his arm from your body and leans to the side, where his phone is on the edge of the bed, ringing. 

When you see the panic in his eyes, you quickly slide off his lap and cover yourself with the blanket again. All of a sudden you feel vulnerable and naked, even though you're still wearing the shirt and shorts. You interlace your fingers in your lap. 

"I'm sorry, Andrea." Charles tucks his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he slips on the turquoise Puma shirt you were wearing yesterday morning. He lifts the hem once and smells it, and for a brief moment his eyes flicker to you before he hurries out of the room, leaving you alone in the bedroom. You hear him continuing to talk in the hallway.

Startled and a little repulsed, you sit on the bed. How did you let it get this far? Charles is your best friend - a fact you told Joris and which was later confirmed to you in person by your roommate. 

So why did you just fall over each other like teenagers who can't keep their hands off each other when no one is looking? Why did you allow yourselves to dry hump each other when you are nothing more than friends? Why did everything Charles did and said turn you on so much that the inside of your thighs are sticky with your arousal? And why did it feel so damn right?

You run your hand through your tousled hair. You've never felt anything like you have in the last few minutes. You've never desired someone as much as the man whose touch made you turn to putty in his hands. As if your brain had been switched off, you gave yourself to him without thinking about what the consequences might be. 

What would happen now? Would Charles still talk to you? Would you talk about it? Would it happen again? 

Before you can think about it any more, Charles enters the bedroom again. His feet are now in sneakers and he has put on a jacket over his shirt. When he sees you sitting at the head of the bed, the comforter thrown over you and with big, worried eyes, his gaze softens. He crosses the room in three steps and sits on the edge of the bed with you before reaching for yours with one hand and intertwining your fingers. 

"We're okay, aren't we?" he asks gently, lifting your chin with his free hand as you try to avoid his gaze. When you look at him, the sparkle from a moment ago is still there. "I - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it get this far. We're friends and the last thing I want is to lose you over this." He almost stumbles over his words when you don't say anything back. "We're still friends, aren't we?" You can see tears gathering on the line of his eyelashes. 

You are so relieved that you want to hug him. You smile at him. "Of course we're friends, Charles. Best friends," you assure him, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. "There's nothing that could change that."

The man in front of you blinks away the tears and returns your smile before squeezing your hand twice. "I really have to go now. Like I said, if you need anything from the supermarket, please text me. Then I can pick it up for you." He releases his hand from yours and stands up from the bed. "See you later." He leans forward a tiny bit and you can practically see the gears in his brain turning until he merely smiles at you and then disappears. As the apartment door slams shut behind him, you exhale. 

Everything's fine between you, you tell yourself as you unplug your phone from the charger and glance at the clock. 9:30 am. You could go back to bed and sleep, but as you lay your head on the pillow, the smell of last night's smoke creeps into your nose. The whole bed smells like a campfire, and your skin and hair smell like you've been wallowing in ashes, so you decide to wash the sheets and jump in the shower. 

The washing machine makes a gentle whirring sound as you switch it on and then head to the fridge to prepare yourself a little breakfast. However, when you realize that there is nothing in the fridge that would be suitable, you hang your head in resignation. Apparently, the ingredients Charles used for the pancakes yesterday were the very last leftovers, so the fridge is empty apart from a pickle jar and a few bottles of water. 

Without further ado, you shoot Charles a text to ask him to bring something for breakfast before you gather your bathroom utensils from your suitcase in the bedroom, undress in the bathroom and set the water in the shower to the right temperature. Since you have some time before Charles returns from his jog and the supermarket, you take all the time in the world. You shampoo your hair and rinse it thoroughly before leaving a generous amount of conditioner in your hair. Meanwhile, you exfoliate your body, shave carefully - and actually manage not to cut your knuckles. The lavender and vanilla shower gel soothes your frayed nerves, while you keep telling yourself that everything is fine between you and Charles, like you talked about. 

You banish the feeling that his every touch felt good and right to the back of your mind and as you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a soft towel, it's almost as if nothing ever happened between you. 

You focus on the fact that you have to look good today, because you are invited to Charles' mother's for dinner later, so you spend a lot of time taming your hair and picking out a nice outfit. You decide on a pair of dark jeans and a light blouse and button up the last button as your cell phone beeps on the kitchen island. 

Charles: No problem. I think I'll be home in an hour. It'll be too late for a proper breakfast then, but how about some fruit and yogurt?

And indeed. It's now just after 12 o'clock and the washing machine seems to be doing its last spin cycle, because its humming gets louder before it goes quiet and only beeps a few times. You quickly put the wet bed sheets in the dryer before answering Charles.

You: You're the best. See you soon.

While you wait for your roommate to come home, you rummage through the things Kika picked out yesterday and scatter them around the apartment. You put the fake plants on the windowsill in your room and place a vase on the worktop in the kitchen. Then grab some picture frames and stand in the hallway to find out which places on the wall are suitable for which frame. Charles is sure to have enough beautiful photos from all over the world to decorate your home, because unfortunately you don't yet have any pictures together that you could hang on the wall. But that's okay. After all, you've only been friends for a few days. 

When the front door opens a short time later, two men are standing opposite you, one of whom - thank God - is Charles. When he sees you, a smile spreads across his face. 

"We've done some shopping," he explains, lifting the bags he's holding in his hands. Then he looks at the man next to him. "This is Andrea, by the way, my personal trainer and close friend." He walks towards you and briefly looks you up and down. "You look good," he says casually as he walks past you and glances over his shoulder. "Come on, Andrea. The stuff needs to go in the fridge. 

"Don't stress me out like that," the man in front of you replies, rolling his eyes in an annoyed manner. "I'm Andrea, nice to meet you." He places one of his bags on the floor before holding out his hand to you. 

You introduce yourself to him too and shake his hand. " Likewise. I wasn't expecting you to bring half the supermarket with you," you joke, reaching for the bag he's put down before you both head towards the kitchen. 

"Me neither," Andrea replies, shrugging her shoulders. "Charles insisted because he didn't want you to want for anything. Now that you live here too."

"Andrea," Charles warns his friend as he puts the milk and eggs in the fridge. 

"Don't play pretend," he defends himself and puts his bag down on the worktop. "I'm just repeating what you said." He takes your plastic bag from you and puts it on the worktop too. "I'll leave you two alone then. After all, you've got a lot to do today." He turns in your direction and smiles at you before planting a kiss on your cheek left and right. "It was nice meeting you, but I'm afraid I have to go. But I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other."

"I guess so."

He nods briefly, turning to your roommate. "And you let me know about the trip. Then I can arrange everything."

Charles, who is putting food in the fridge with a concentration as if he were taking part in a Tetris competition, waves his hand once in the direction of his trainer. "I will. Ciao!"

Andrea leaves your apartment as quickly as he had arrived, and as the door slams shut behind him, you turn to your friend. "A trip? Where are you off to?"

"I have to go through a training camp to prepare for next season. But I'll tell you about that later." After he's put everything away neatly, he closes the fridge and turns in your direction. "I've just spoken to my mother on the phone. Dinner will be around seven, but we can come over before that, before my brothers show up, if you don't mind." He grabs a glass from the cupboard and pours himself some water before taking a big gulp. "So I'd just jump in the shower and get ready. And then we can go as soon as you're ready."

You smile at him. "All right. Do you still want to eat something small? Then I could cut up some fruit and prepare some yoghurt if you like," you offer. 

He nods thankfully to you before pulling his shirt over his back and off his upper body in one fluid motion. The workout has made his muscles look even more defined than usual. Not that you waste much time staring at his naked torso. 

"That would be nice. I'll just jump in the shower," he says before disappearing into the bathroom. As he turns on the shower, you hear the water hitting the floor. 

You're a little surprised that your little session doesn't seem to be having any effect. The worries you had that the atmosphere between you might now be strained fizzle out and the only thing that remains is the bitter aftertaste that Charles doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that you were dry humping as friends and there was a possibility that your friendship had come to an end. 

Does it really not affect him that you were both playing with fire a few hours ago? Or is he just good at covering it up and acting as if nothing had happened?

But when you remember how upset he was sitting next to you on the bed afterwards, with tears in his eyes for fear of losing you as a friend, the negative thoughts disappear from your mind. He probably wants to put the whole thing behind him because it would really bother him if you were no longer friends. 

And since you feel the same way, you cut up some fruit without giving it a second thought until your cell phone, which is lying on the kitchen island in front of you, vibrates. An incoming Facetime call from - Lando? 

Why is he calling you? And especially on Facetime? Has something happened to him? Does he need help?

You quickly put the knife aside and wipe your hands on a kitchen towel before answering the call. When the British man's face appears on your screen, you breathe a sigh of relief. He's apparently lying on the couch at home, the hood of his hoodie pulled up over his curls and a broad grin adorning his face. 

"Hi, Lando," you greet him and lean your phone against the vase so that you can continue preparing the fruit. "What can I do for you?"

"Is Charles with you?" he asks as you turn around and take two bowls from the cupboard behind you to divide the fruit halfway between them. 

"He's in the shower," you reply, tilting your head. " Why? Did something happen?"

"No, everything's fine," he says and smiles. "I was just trying to reach him on his cell phone. But when he is taking a shower, it's obvious that he won't answer." 

"'Who's not answering?" you hear Charles say as he leaves the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Single drops of water snake across his chest and down the ridges of his abs before disappearing into the fabric of the towel, which hangs quite low on his hips. You have to swallow briefly and just point at your cell phone. When Charles comes into Lando's field of vision, he nods briefly. "Sorry, I was in the shower. Have you tried to call me?"

Lando, blinking silently at the camera, nods. "Uh, yeah. I wanted to invite you both to a party. After Christmas." He struggles to suppress a smile, and even though the screen is so small, you can see his gaze jump from Charles to you. "My friend Martin is coming here to DJ at a club. If you're up for it, you're both welcome to come."

Charles, who is standing to the side behind you, rests his chin on your shoulder. After this morning, you didn't expect to find Charles back in your personal space so quickly. Whether he realizes you're holding your breath, you don't know. "I don't see what's wrong with that, do you?" The question is directed at you. As you shake your head weakly, your roommate smiles at the camera and puts his hand on your hip. "Then we're definitely in." Suddenly, you feel Charles' lips on your temple as he presses a gentle kiss to your skin. "I'm just going to get ready." With that, he disappears from Lando's sight and, as he enters your bedroom, from yours too.

The way Lando's eyes widen briefly doesn't escape you. "Great. Then I'll put you on the guest list and send you the details." As your gaze shifts from your room back to the Brit, Lando looks back at you with a grin that almost reaches his ears. 

"Lando," you warn him in the same tone Charles just used with Andrea. "Leave it alone."

"I didn't say anything," he defends himself, but the grin doesn't disappear from his face. You'd love to wipe it off his cheek. "So, are you two - ?"

You roll your eyes. "We're friends, Lando. Nothing more, nothing less," you explain to him, but you seem to be falling on deaf ears, because the Brit doesn't seem to believe a word you're saying. 

"Friends with benefits? Or why did Charles just behave like that?"

"What do you mean, like that?" you ask him, tilting your head in confusion. To keep your hands busy, you fill the bowls of fruit with yogurt and add some sweetener before stirring everything. 

"So possessive. So jealous," he explains, as if it's no big deal. Which it certainly wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for this morning's action. 

"You don't know what you're talking about," you retort snappishly, your mouth forming a thin line. "Sorry, that's not what I meant."

"It's all cool. But if you get married, I'll be the guest of honor as matchmaker," he replies, before holding his phone close to his face and grinning broadly at the camera. "And then I'll give a speech about how stupid you both were at the beginning because you didn't want to admit that you were meant to be together."

When you hear Charles' footsteps in the hallway, you quickly reach for your cell phone. "Lando."

"I'm just saying, friends don't look at each other the way you look at him. And that friends don't act as possessive as he does." He raises his free hand, puts his thumb and forefinger together before pulling it over his mouth and pretending to seal his lips with it. "I'm not saying anything more about it."

"Who says no more to what?" Charles asks as he enters the kitchen. 

"Nobody to anything anymore. Bye, Lando," you quickly say goodbye and end the Facetime call, knowing full well that you're sure to get a few more messages from the Brit lovingly mocking you. 

"Oh-kay." Charles sits down opposite you at the kitchen islands and grabs one of the yogurt bowls. You watch him as he shoves spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. "Everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," you reply with a sugary smile and start spooning up your yoghurt too. "I'm just nervous about meeting your mom. I hope she'll like me," you try to change the subject. 

"She definitely will," your flatmate tries to reassure you. "Just be yourself and then she'll love you. And so will my brothers." He reaches across the worktop for your hand and squeezes it twice. "Loving you is easier than you might think."

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: This is so damn tacky, I swear to fucking God, dude. And I love it. And if anyone is curious, I'm nearing the end of the training for my new job and shit's insane. We're learning all kinds of new shit and it's so hard to retain. Jfc. But it's over on the 17th of May. Then I pick up my laptop, and my phone and head off to my new desk where I'll decorate it like the fucking fun little nerd I am!

C/W ::: Hanma is a dick and not the fun-loving kind, either.

MDNI under the cut.

🔘🔘🔘 Hanma Head HC's 🔘🔘🔘

🔘 Hanma has a bad habit of only calling on you when he's bored.

🔘 He knows you'll always answer the phone, the door ... however he chooses to reach out to you at the time.

🔘 He's so sweet to you at first. Telling you "You're so prihhh-ty" and how much he enjoys spending time with you.

🔘 He lies; tells you about how busy he is with stuff. You know it's bullshit, but you love him so much that you let it go.

🔘 And even if you hadn't let it go right away, as soon as he touches you, you're a goner.

🔘 "Baby, been missin' this body s'much. But fuck, things are so crazy righ' now. Can't be with you like I want."

🔘 Hanma will guide you over to your desk and hoist you up by your thighs.

🔘 "You puttin' on some weight? Heh, I think it's all in your ass. Lemme have a bite. 'Mere."

🔘 It hurts your feelings when he says things like that. But he wants a bite ... so he likes it. Right?

🔘 After he gets you up on the desk, he spreads your bare legs.

🔘 Hanma has taught you well to have your pants off by the time he gets there, leaving you only in panties (thongs ... or he spanks you relentlessly until you convince him you're sorry for not being sexy enough for him).

🔘 The man simply has no time to waste (lies) - let alone, waste on you (bigger lies).

🔘 You wanted to believe you were kind of important.

🔘 But with how few and increasingly far between his visits, phone calls, whatevers have been lately, you're not sure now where you rank in his life.

🔘 And the more you think about it right now, with his face between your chubby, warm thighs and his lips around your puffy clit, you want to cry.

🔘 But who cries when they're getting head? GOOD head, at that.

🔘 He knows just how to hook you and keep you hangin' on.

🔘 He kisses that crease of soft skin between your thighs and your cunt, whispering sweet nothings to it. You wonder if he even remembers you're there.

🔘 "G'na make ya cum so hard, yeah, slutty slutty slit uh'mine. Fuckin' love you so much. Miss you all the time. Now open up f'me. Gonna give ya all I got, princess.

🔘 He grunts slightly when he lifts you from the desk and carries you around to the bed, laying you down unceremoniously and not even bothering to push his pants down below his thighs.

🔘 Hanma winked at you as he stroked his cock a few more times for good measure.

🔘 "Baby ... ya ready? Daddy's home. Gonna give ya some milk then run out and buy s'more."

@viburnt @trevengersprincess @katkusuo @darkstarlight82 @kazutora-kurokawa @arlerts-angel @southside-otaku @bakubunny (I don't know if I'm just stupid or what, but I can't find your other acct?)

[sciderman]

How did your meeting go with the surgeons?

it was memorable

[forlix]

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝・h.j.

— stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.

words・6.4k

pairing・han jisung x female reader

genres・college!au, friends with benefits to lovers, snowed in trope, smut, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED, angst, ANGST, you have been warned, hurt/comfort, i can't write normal fluff to save my life, happy ending!!!, semi-slow burn

warnings・depictions of insomnia, recurring nightmares, graphic violence, character death (in the nightmare), fears of abandonment and falling in love, alcohol consumption, humans helping each other heal. smut warnings under the cut

playlist・stay - acoustic by jonah baker・all of me by big gigantic・babydoll (speed) by ari abdul・oasis by exo・volcano by han

a/n・hi, here's my second installment of winter falls. writing this was immensely challenging and twice as meaningful, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. thank you to my may for being so fucking instrumental in piecing together this rollercoaster—this one is for you, i love you. thanks to my sahar for everything, always and forever. and thanks to all of you for being here. happy new year ♡

smut warnings・spitplay, unprotected piv, please practice safe sex!!!, car sex, dirty talk, jisung's dick game is kinda crazy, squirting, lots of aftercare

Every time Jisung closes his eyes, he sees somebody’s back.

It’s leaving. Traipsing somewhere he can’t follow. He tries to chase it—he always does, he never learns—but the premise doesn’t so much as surface before the ghosts circling around his ankles go for his throat instead. They snare him by the shoulders, force him to his knees, slam his forehead into the permafrost hard enough to break bone. They make sure the next time he tries to move will be the last.

So he remains, keeled over in the cold, until tearwater clings to his lower lashes in small icicles. Until bloodstained snow coats his lips like the manifestation of a curse. Until the back has disappeared.

Who does it belong to? He’s left to wonder. Where is it going?

Why can’t I follow?

Then he wakes up.

No longer does he lay awake for hours afterwards, scouring the dream’s every frame for his answers.

Now, he tosses and turns in clammy sheets until his exhaustion wins.

Now, he welcomes sleep like a miracle granted by some pitying god.

You see him.

Through a living room packed with red-faced partygoers and dissected by oscillating strobe lights, albeit, but you see him anyways. 

Jisung can barely make out the rest of your face—he blames the lighting, or the soju, or both—but your eyes alone turn him to glass. Not a fancy vase through which the world distorts, but a simple pane that puts him and his ghosts on full display.

He hopes you like horror movies.

Felix knows you, because of course he does, and Jisung has never been happier to call the extroverted Australian his friend than when you come over to say hi. You stumble out of the crowd all smudged makeup and sweaty skin, your figure hugged by a short black dress with two diamond-shaped openings just above your hips, your glossy lips curved in a drunken smile. Jisung immediately wants it against his mouth.

Instead, it disappears behind his friend as you pull him into a quick hug. A few wisps of your hair dust over Jisung’s arm, momentarily replacing the smells of grease and vodka with cherry blossoms and vanilla.

“Lix, hey!”

“Darling, it’s good to see you! Feels like it’s been ages.”

“I know, right? How are you? How is everything?”

“Good, thank you. Just happy the semester’s over.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Then you go to lift your drink and discover thin air in its place. “Or I won’t. Whoops.”

This prompts Jisung’s first contribution to the conversation—and his first effortless laugh in a long while.

“Eventful night, huh?”

He meets your gaze from all of two feet away this time, and his knees buckle under him. That gaze, fuck. So clear and true, like a prism of glass refracting light into a rainbow. He would let you refract him a thousand times over if he had any light to give.

“Maybe,” you giggle. “Seems I’m a little too happy the semester’s over.”

“Wanna not get a drink to celebrate?”

Your expression flickers. Not in a bad way, more like you hadn’t expected him to ask so soon—or for yourself to have your answer so quickly.

A strobe light catches right under your eye and refracts the color in your blushing face. A rainbow.

“I’d like that.”

He tilts his head towards the kitchen. You give Felix’s elbow a light squeeze before moving past him; he gives Felix a glimpse of his growing smile before falling into step behind you. The blonde shakes his head, throws back the rest of his beer, then swivels at the sound of someone calling his name from across the foyer.

Felix will get drunk enough to forget the sight of you leading Jisung up the stairs, two bottles of pink lemonade tucked under your arm. Nothing stronger, as promised.

Jisung asks his question an entire minute after he intends to. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Somewhere I can see your pretty face without having to squint,” you reply, and his stomach tumbles like a schoolboy with a valentine.

You don’t stop at the second floor. Instead, you nudge open a door Jisung swears just materialized to his left and emerge into the night air.

It’s warm for December, but he’s still met with chilly winds licking down the sides of his neck. That’s not the only reason he shudders, though. Below his feet, he finds a metal platform akin to that of a fire escape. Above his head, a staircase that looks one forceful step away from dropping off the side of the building.

You turn towards it. 

In a hurry, he sputters, “I’m, uh—I’m not sure about this.”

A beat passes. Your hold on his wrist loosens, not to let go, just to trace wordless reassurance down the back of his hand. Your fingers feel perfect sliding into the spaces between his, like drops of honey in the craters of soufflé pancakes.

“It’s safer than it looks, I promise.”

Jisung heaves a sigh. It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

You’re right, though. The iron rungs are surprisingly rigid beneath his feet, and the two of you make it to the roof with no trouble. He does stumble when you pull him up onto the gravel, but it’s intentional, a purposeful blunder to have you closer. To snag another glimpse of that blush, another trace of that floral vanilla.

“Sorry,” he whispers almost directly upon your lips. And that earns him all three.

The next hour evades him for the most part, and Jisung is pissed about it. He’s with the woman of his dreams under a sky so clear it’s almost lustrous and he’s too shitfaced to recollect when he gave you his hoodie to wear; what you said that made his lungs capsize with how hard he laughed; how you ended up so close to each other, your legs strewn over his lap, his hands tracing over your thighs.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things. He remembers how frighteningly easy you are to talk to; he remembers your habit of smacking his stomach when you get flustered; he remembers you getting flustered a lot. He remembers the timbres of your different laughs and how your stunning features crinkle with each. He remembers feeling like a pane of glass in front of you, just like he had downstairs, and he remembers liking it, somehow. Liking the way you see through him, the way you allow him to just exist as he is. Liking the way you acknowledge his ghosts with such nonchalance, inviting them over for tea and biscuits.

He wants to remember everything about you.

It’s not often he wants to remember anything.

Eventually, your conversation comes to a natural close. In its absence, Jisung notices that the alcoholic sludge in his brain has largely diffused; with it, the rumbling bass of the party below. The full moon hangs at its highest point, blanketing the two of you with anticipatory silence, nudging you towards the only topic you’ve yet to breach.

He meets your gaze again, from all of two inches away this time, and his insides twist.

“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

You blink at him, not following. Then he leans his forehead against yours, lets his eyes flicker to your mouth with such unbridled want that you’re instantly dizzy—and no longer confused.

Regret pools in your eyes moments before they close. “Yes, I think so.”

Your lips are so, so close that he can feel the air shift between you when they move, can feel the soft warmth emanating from them. Jisung pulls away before he does anything stupid.

You do the stupid thing for him.

You push his shoulders to the plaster behind him, push yourself onto his lap with a swing of your body and a slotting of your legs on either side of him. 

The plush of your thighs hugging his hips, the curves of your breasts pressed against his chest, Jisung tries to stare up at you, perplexed, aroused. But you’re so close that he can’t, so he settles with whispering upon the underside of your chin, “what are you—”

“Gimme your lemonade.”

The authoritative words come out in a slurred haze, and he all but hastens to oblige. 

You pluck the plastic bottle from his wavering grasp. His empty hand hovers as if uncertain where to go. But matters as trivial as hand placement drop off his mind’s precipice as he watches you unscrew the cap, the slope of your neck illuminated by spindly moonlight, and without thinking he pushes his hands beneath the hem of your—his—hoodie.

The skin of your waist is warm and smooth where his fingertips are cold and calloused, the juxtaposition unimportant in your reciprocal desires to touch and be touched.

“Open,” you murmur.

His jaw goes slack, firstly from pure disbelief. Then, obedience. The dark locks that obstruct his vision of you fall away as his head meets the brick half-wall behind him, as if the midnight breeze itself mandated their removal.

You pour some of the pink liquid past Jisung’s parted lips. Stray rivulets slip down his cheek and vanish beneath his neckline. You break eye contact to follow their path with dilated pupils and fluttering lashes. With unadulterated desire.

He swallows, gently, and feels the sweet substance surround his tonsils.

He swallows, forcefully, when you wrap your lips around the bottle, the plastic still slathered in his spit.

The swig you take is long, deep. Your throat bobs and your eyes close as if you’re savoring a finely-aged nectar. Then your lips are popping off the opening with a soft thwock, leaving a thick strand of saliva to suspend, suspend, suspend until the very second it’s about to drop, which is when you collect the residue with a deft swipe of your tongue.

“A placeholder,” you breathe, and Jisung’s head careens. A shared bottle. An indirect kiss.

“You’re a monster,” he croaks.

You giggle and lean down, curling a hand around his cheek, pressing a wet kiss to his Adam’s apple.

“Tomorrow, if we’re both sober…”

One, two, three pecks up the length of his jaw.

“...and you still remember my address…”

A suckle to the lobe of his ear.

“...you can kiss me, for real.”

A trembling breath.

“And then some.”

Jisung moans, loudly.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things.

He shows up at your place shortly after sunset the next day. You swing open the door, your face already alight with your world-ending smile.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Then he’s kissing you like a man famished.

Jisung learns to love your back, that night. He loves its dips and curves, loves its rise and fall. Loves how it arches into him, how it looks drenched in his cum. It’s the back of his dreams.

The back in his dreams keeps walking.

Jisung has never liked winter.

He has never liked its winds, whispering woefully as if mourning something unnamed and unseen. He has never liked its palette, whitewashing the world as if refracting a rainbow in reverse.

He has never liked cracking open his eyes and seeing the scenery of his nightmare outside his window. Nor does he like trudging over the sleet as if weighed down by the same ghosts that break him time and time again in his dreamscape. They love winter. 

And this winter, he swears, is the bitterest yet. On the nights when he’s allowed to sleep, the nightmare comes in such sharp relief that he thinks he’d rather anything else, the ghosts meaner, the blood redder, the silhouette slower. It’s an act of mercy when he’s still awake by the time bleached sunlight perforates the curtains, resting upon his salted cheeks and balled fists.

This winter, it is not just dislike that he feels towards the gray winds—it’s hatred. A maelstrom of loathing so large and dark that Jisung no longer knows where it’s headed or what it’s directed to. Or who.

When winter break comes to an end, he’s probably the only person who’s happy about it.

His friends certainly aren’t, looking like a line of angry nutcrackers with their folded arms and thunderous faces standing outside Greem Cafe.

Jisung calls out a greeting as he jogs towards them, and cue the grumbling.

“What is there to smile about? Enlighten us.” That’s Hyunjin. “I have to deal with four finals and three essays in the next five days and this guy is smiling.”

“He’s accepted his fate, I reckon.” That’s Felix. “We should do the same, boys. Let ourselves down easy, y’know?”

“No, no, he’s smiling because he remembered to bring me his chem notes.” That’s Jeongin. “You did, right? Please say you did.”

Jisung is stunned into silence. “Can I not be happy to see my friends?”

“No,” Hyunjin and Felix reply in unison.

“My bad,” he sighs.

“My notes,” Jeongin repeats.

“I have them, dude. Let’s sit down first.”

The younger boy shouts an impassioned “THANK YOU” at the sky like the clouds just saved his GPA. Jisung reaches for the door to the café, then stops at the sound of Felix’s voice.

“We’re waiting on one more person.”

He turns towards the blonde with puzzled eyes. He’d been under the impression the study session would comprise just them four.

“Who?”

Felix’s response falters on his tongue when he catches sight of something in the distance, and his face changes in a way Jisung’s seen before.

“Look behind you.” Felix shuffles past him, raising his voice to shout, “yo!”

Jisung glances away from the newcomer as quickly as he sees her. It’s not until his eyes pivot to the fire hydrant across the street that he processes her identity.

In one second flat, his mind clutters full. He thinks back to that party, when all it took was the sight of your smile for him to theorize you were the most exquisite thing ever made. He thinks back to the next evening, when he kissed you and verified his hypothesis. He thinks back to what followed and would continue to follow in the few days that remained before break: entwined tongues and emblazoned hickeys, whitened knuckles and whiny praise, snapping hips and shaking bedframes.

This winter, Jisung swears, is the bitterest yet.

But seeing you, the scarf wound multiple times around your neck doing nothing to hide your gorgeous smile, feels like catching a fragment of summer in his frozen hands.

“Thank god,” Felix groans before embracing you. Collapsing on you, more like. “I’m saved.”

You reach around to pat the boy on the back, your eyes brimming with laughter. “Lower your expectations, please. I did well on one exam.”

“You aced the midterm. That automatically makes you a rocket scientist,” Felix corrects, his voice muffled into the shoulder of your coat. A few beats of silence pass. Then, “this is comfy.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go get some caffeine in you,” you giggle. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

Felix straightens up sleepily. And sadly. “Superb.”

Jisung hangs back as you introduce yourself to Hyunjin and Jeongin. He doesn’t even notice his growing smile until you’re standing directly in front of him and for the first time in three weeks there’s the smell of cherry blossoms in the air and a rainbow shining on his face again.

“Hi,” he offers.

“Hey,” you reply.

Hyunjin is the one to shatter the prolonged silence that follows. “Are you guys betrothed?”

Felix and Jeongin stalk into the café snickering. You and Jisung trail behind with flaming cheeks.

It takes Jisung two and a half hours to talk to you again. At that point in the afternoon, Felix is napping on the second practice test you’ve given him; Hyunjin has downed three shots of pure espresso and is currently viewing his screen with concerning intensity; Jeongin is at another table on a quiet Zoom call with his chemistry T.A., Jisung’s notes clutched to his chest like a life vest. And you’re leaning back against your seat opposite to him, scrolling through your phone in what he presumes to be a well-deserved study break. As good a time as any.

He opens up his texts with you. His fingers fly across the keyboard.

Jisung: do you have plans after this?

Your eyes stutter to the top of your screen, linger there for a moment, and lock onto Jisung’s from across the table.

He presses his lips into a thin line to suppress his smile. You let yours spill over in full form, and with it comes a soft giggle that would be worth getting his number fucking blocked just to hear one more time.

Three gray dots appear before elongating into a prompt response.

Y/N: I was gonna ask you the same thing…

He’s the one who laughs this time. Fuck, you’re cute. You’re so cute.

Jisung: can i take you to dinner? Y/N: Yes, I’d love that :) Y/N: When should we leave? Jisung: 9? Y/N: Sounds good~ Jisung: cool Jisung: it’s a date Y/N: It’s a date! Y/N: Excited 💛

With that, you put your phone face down and return to work, though your lips remain privately upturned. Jisung wants to kiss them again.

He also wants to turn you into a mess on his cock again.

Or both.

He doesn’t get much studying done after that thought surfaces.

Jisung: me too <3

When nine o’clock rolls around, you and Jisung begin cleaning up your work stations in near-perfect simultaneity. There’s confusion written all over Hyunjin’s and Jeongin’s faces as they watch you swing your backpacks over your shoulders—but Felix’s expression is a blank slate as he sips from his macchiato. Your ingenuity isn’t the only reason he invited you today.

As you make your way out of the café, your shoulders brush once, twice, and then Jisung drops his hand into the space between the two of you without uttering a word. You scoop it up in your own without missing a beat.

He steps into the freezing night feeling warm all over.

“You know what I realized?” You say as you walk towards his SUV.

“What did you realize?”

“We’ve never had a sober conversation before. Can we change that tonight?”

Jisung has broken hearts before.

There’s no euphemistic way to describe his tendency to abuse the sensitive organs, to wring them out and throw them away like irrelevant trash. To juggle and drop them with a sheepish laugh like they’re nothing more than props in a circus act.

He doesn’t do it to save himself or his partners from getting hurt or any self-ingratiating bullshit like that. It’s for himself, all for himself. All to unload his balls and his mind for fifteen blissful seconds. 

There’s blood on his hands. He never cared to wash it off.

Except you are the one asking for his heart this time around, a dash of hope in your smile as you do so, and he thinks it would be his life’s greatest honor to be discarded by you.

“Sure,” he answers.

He doesn’t even last until he’s inside the car.

Your back meets the door to the passenger’s seat, guided there by his hands on your hips. From millimeters away he watches your surprise morph into understanding, then darken into lust.

“I like when we don’t talk, though.”

It’s the most annoying thing in the world to remove so many layers in such a cramped space.

Combined, your clothing forms a tower high enough to block out the driver’s window completely. An unnecessary blockade.

The glass fogs up anyways.

“Fuck, Ji, yes, right there, oh my god.”

You have your legs spread open and the back of your neck digging into the cupholder on the door. It’s not comfortable. You’re too busy getting fucked open to care.

Jisung detaches his lips from your neck to ask, “here, baby?”

The head of his cock hits that gummy spot again, harder, sweeter. You convulse, your hand scrambling for purchase in his raven locks.

“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, please.”

Please. The word plays over in his fuzzy mind.

It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

His cock slips out of you and you lament the loss of contact with a high wail.

“W-why’d—where’d you go?”

He can’t help but chuckle at how incoherent you’ve become. He cradles the back of your head with a tender hand and lowers your upper body onto the leather seat, adjusting himself to your new elevation.

“Right here, beautiful. Didn’t go anywhere—promise—” 

He expels the final word through gritted teeth as he slams into you again, and the new angle is glorious. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony. Profanities tumble from his lips in a steady stream before they turn back into syllables.

“Would never go anywhere. Would never leave without making this pretty pussy cream like it deserves—holy fucking shit, baby.”

You clench around him at his words and then he’s setting a new, relentless rhythm, rocking the whole vehicle with every hearty smack of his hips against yours, your wet walls squeezing him so dreamily he thinks he sees nirvana with every thrust.

You’re enjoying it just as much, if the bubbles of spit in the corner of your mouth are any indication, and Jisung is viciously proud to be the cause. Unbelievably lucky to feel your breasts jiggling under his chest and your nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Good?” He whispers, and you nod blissfully.

“So—good, Ji, so fucking good. Your cock is perfect, fuck, I can’t even—can’t even think.”

“You’re the perfect one. Can’t believe how well your cunt takes me, shit. It’s like it was fucking made for this.”

“It was,” you breathe, and he nearly shoots his load into you at this alone. “It was, it was—oh, god, I think—think I’m gonna come—”

“Do it,” he rasps. “Come for me. Come on this cock and it’s yours.”

“R-really?”

“Really.”

“Then, I will. I’ll come on your cock—make it mine. Need it so fucking bad, I’m so fucking close, oh—please—”

He anchors himself in place with a hand against the windowsill and the other travels down your body to rub fast, tight circles into your clit. You let out a wanton, prolonged moan, tilt your head back to expose him to your fluttering throat. And then you’re pulling his lips onto yours again, and the following kiss is sloppy beyond belief, the kind that can only antedate the happiest of endings.

“My cock,” you sigh into his mouth. “Mine.”

“Forever,” is the breathy response he doesn’t know if he means, the response he gives you anyways.

And then you curl your fingers in his hair. Clamp your teeth around his lower lip. Clench your thighs around his waist. There’s liquid everywhere. Tearwater spilling down the sides of your face. Release gushing all over his dick and pelvis and backseat.

He catches up the moment he realizes what’s just happened. Pulls out of you. Presses his head against the roof of his car. Spits on his hand. Pumps his pulsating cock. Sends himself over the edge you’ve just finished tripping over.

Eventually, he regains feeling in his limbs.

He opens his eyes, surveys the damage, and grins.

Your stomach is covered in ropes of white, your expression hidden behind your hands. You start shaking your head in profuse embarrassment the moment you feel his eyes on you.

“You squirted,” he says.

“I know,” you almost yell, and his grin erupts into a laugh.

He lowers himself back over you, takes your wrists, and removes them from your blushing face. He doesn’t think he’s seen you so flustered before and it has him palpitating in ways he never thought feasible.

Maybe he did mean the damn thing after all.

He pushes off the strands of hair clinging to your damp forehead and replaces them with a gentle kiss. “It was sexy as fuck and you’re everything.” 

There’s a certain softness in your eyes when he pulls away. He hopes, for your sake, it’s all in his head.

His car is in need of aftercare most of all. You shrug on your clothes with considerable effort and get to work, all while sharing comfortable chatter and easy laughter.

Those things persist during your dinner date at a nearby Chinese restaurant and the drive back to your place, which Jisung knows well enough to no longer need his GPS. Those things persist until he kisses you goodbye on your doorstep, because he would have to be fucking crazy not to after you gave him the best night he’s had in so long.

After you reminded him that he’s still capable of comfort and ease, in spite of it all.

Snow comes a few weeks into the new year. 

This winter, it falls late, and it falls hard, like a gust of breath expelled from drawn lungs at the very last minute. Held there as if lying in wait for something unnamed and unseen. 

The gust of breath is too quiet to be heard over the one Jisung lets out against the shell of your ear. “Wait here.”

He goes to roll off you. You don’t let him just yet, darting your hand around his wrist and bringing his face back within centimeters of yours.

Han Jisung is beautiful. You knew it for the first time at that houseparty and you’ve known it every hour of every day since. But it’s always clearest to you in the afterglow, when his bare skin is golden and sticky and his delicate lips bitten to bright fuchsia. 

When his irises have gone black and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light.

You close the distance that remains between you. Your lips part with a content sigh. Your hands drift over the slant of his neck; his find home in the dips above your waist.

He breaks away once you’re both out of breath, and the pad of his thumb wipes lightly at your lower lip.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shyly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

The smile this brings to his face reminds you of a candle’s flame. Soft on the eyes and scalding to the touch when he presses it back against your lips. Once, twice.

“Can you wipe your cum off me now?” You whisper, and he laughs straight into your mouth.

The mattress lifts. His footsteps grow quieter. You shiver in his absence.

Only then do you notice the blizzard.

You stumble off the bed to throw your curtains aside. Snow descends from the sky like spools of unraveling yarn. The streetlights have been reduced to foggy specks, the parked cars to blurry heaps. Every sidewalk and rooftop in sight has already been slathered in ivory.

Jisung announces his return with a disbelieving whistle.

“Am I dreaming?” You murmur.

“When did that happen?”

“I have no idea.”

You don’t even notice the wild smile on your face until you turn to him and catch his reaction to it. He looks like he’s asking himself the same question.

“C’mere,” he hums, and you oblige.

He laves the warm towel over your breasts and stomach, as well as the places his release has trickled since you flung yourself to your feet. All while supporting the small of your back with a touch fatally careful, an expression wholly adoring. All evidence of just how blurry the line between sexual escapade and lover has become in two short months.

Your ribcage fucking throbs.

“You don’t seem excited,” you say.

He finishes cleaning you off. You give him a distracted thank you, noticing the sudden shadow draped over his face like a netted veil.

“I’m not,” he answers, not unkindly.

“You don’t like snow?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

He circles around the bed to get dressed. You bend to pick up the clothes tossed aside earlier and drop them into your hamper, then slip into a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants.

“It’s a long story.”

Just as you reach for a top, a bundle of cloth travels in an arc across your bedroom and hooks itself around the crook of your arm. His T-shirt. 

You glance at Jisung. He’s already looking elsewhere, but his private smile makes its way onto your face as you slip it on.

“Well, I have time.” You sink into your mattress, now surrounded by his muted musk, his papyrus and petrichor. “We’ll be stuck here a while, after all.”

“Stuck?” Jisung repeats, the lanyard of his car keys dangling from the pocket of his hoodie, his feet turned towards the door.

A pregnant pause commences. His intentions dawn, and you gape.

“You’re not driving right now.”

He breaks eye contact.

“Right?”

That was the plan, you read in his expression.

You know better than trying to reverse a river’s current by kicking up rocks. You know better than trying to curtail the flight of an albatross by clipping its wings.

You know better than asking someone who thinks he was made to leave to stay.

And you won’t.

“I have somewhere to be early tomorrow morning,” he stammers, the lines terribly rehearsed. “The snow’s not heavy, I’ll be—”

“Stay.”

You’re not asking.

Jisung looks at you, startled, as you glide across the bed. You place your feet on the hardwood and circle your arms around his waist. Lace your fingers upon the hollow of his back. His pulse goes uneven at your abrupt proximity.

Akin to the drag of a feather, you mouth at his cheek, then the side of his neck.

“You can stay, Jisung.”

He shudders at your words, and you’ve got him.

It’s oddly normal, the sight of him clambering into your bed in your clothing—a pair of old sweatpants and your favorite crewneck—like this isn’t the first time you’re sleeping together in your two months of sleeping together.

In fact, the only indication of anything unordinary is the floaty feeling in your stomach when your head hits the pillow and discover Jisung’s face only inches away. He drapes an arm over your waist, gathering you close. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

The inevitable question follows.

“Can I save the story for another time?”

“Sure,” you return, keeping your voice small. He doesn’t hear your disappointment this way. “Should we go to sleep, then?”

“We should.”

Your foreheads touch. Your noses bump together. Your eyes cross, watching the adoration pull at his. You dimly register your hand threading in his fluffy locks, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your lashes narrowly miss the surface of his eyes, and then he tips your face up by millimeters.

You don’t remember when you fall asleep. You only recall the hour beforehand that you spend with Jisung’s lips traversing yours, like you are the ocean and he’s uncovering new waters with every bruise he prints against your throat, every suckle he leaves around your tongue.

In your dream, the roles reverse and you are the one exploring him, mapping out his constellations with wide-eyed wonder.

You wake to a black hole.

For the first five seconds, you see nothing. You hear nothing. You feel nothing. You only blink in the darkness, your mind kicking into groggy gear to ask the very good question of why you’re conscious again.

Instinct moves your hand across the mattress. Empty space greets you where Jisung should be. Unfounded dread shoves your back off the bed. You gasp, the sound seeming to echo in the cavernous silence.

Your eyes adjust enough to discern light in the crack beneath your door, and you’re wide awake.

The following events go by in a blur. You stumble out of bed and into your closet, fastening your fingers around the thickest piece of fabric you find. You fly into the living room, where the lamp by the couch is left on and the pair of worn black Converse on your doormat have gone missing.

The front door is cracked open, and through the narrow inches you spot someone hunched on the stairs outside, his dark hair dyed platinum by the awning light’s fluorescence.

Your heart stills in relief, then quickens with anxiety.

You’ve tried wearing this crewneck in January enough times to know you can’t. In fact, you suspect that it somehow soaks up the temperature, lets it seep in between its every seam until it becomes one with the bitter winds. 

But he isn’t shivering, you notice as you take a seat next to him, draping the puffer over both of your shoulders on your way down. He’s simply staring off into the bleak storm, snowflakes sitting atop his head like a coating of ash, their color matching that of his frozen skin. He’s becoming one with the bitter winds. 

At first, you don’t recognize the man in front of you.

You’re well familiar with those ring-laden hands and the whetted jawline thrown into shadow, those remnants of cologne clinging to his frame. But you have never seen that gaze before, bloodshot and bleak and belonging to somebody new. Somebody who isn’t completely here, straddling the partition between the realms of people and phantoms.

Then he lifts his eyes and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light. Your stars.

And you recognize him for the first time ever.

You drop your hand to your hip, and his fingers feel stiff and cold and perfect, sliding into the spaces between yours.

“Why don’t you like snow?” You ask.

Jisung’s eyes return to the swirling sleet, but he moves your interlocked hands to rest on his thigh, and you know that he’s with you.

He’s been having this nightmare.

It takes place in a small clearing. It’s winter, and everything is covered in snow. Not the gentle kind that you can catch on your tongue, but the unyielding kind that’s hard and dense and covered in cracks, like a lake newly frozen over.

Somebody is in front of him, walking away. He can only see their back. He wants to chase after them. He doesn’t want to be left behind. But there are ghosts nearby, and they’ll split his skull open on the permafrost and tie his windpipe into a pretty bow if he so much as dreams of pursuit. He always does. He doesn’t know how not to.

Normally, the back leaves, and he can do nothing but remain. He can direct his loathing only to the snow into which he bleeds. 

Normally, he waits for the dream to end with something bordering on boredom. He’s seen this movie too many times. He fucking hates how it ends.

This time, though, the snow tastes like something.

After the flavors deliquesce upon his tongue, his head shoots up, his eyes blowing wide as they latch onto the retreating figure. He knows who it is.

His feet scrabbles against the ice with his attempts to rise to them. He lunges forward with frenzied resolve, and that is when the ghosts snap his neck.

He wakes up.

“Cherry blossoms and vanilla.”

You blink, tearwater streaking from your eyes in silent, steaming trails.

“That’s—”

My shampoo.

A broken sob escapes you in lieu of the rest of your sentence, and Jisung laughs, a flimsy facade that crumbles when he lifts his hand to dab at your moistened cheeks and it’s trembling.

“Silly,” he murmurs. “I’m used to it now.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“I don’t want you to cry for me.”

“You died.”

“And I would do it again.”

This response comes without an shred of hesitation.

You first realized you had something to confess, that night in the the back of Jisung’s SUV. You’ve kept it locked away for your sake and his, even moreso. You see how fear clings to him like an unshakeable wraith, and you refuse to feed the parasite.

Now, your confession explodes from its fortress in the center of your soul and rises up your larynx. You panic like an inept security guard letting their only prisoner bolt free. Is it really the right time? Do you know what to say? Have you really thought this through? 

Too late. It’s rushing to the point of your tongue already. You suppose you’ll find out.

He saves you the trouble.

“Honestly?”

Your confession stills. 

“I don’t know if I’m okay, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise. You’d call my bluff. You’re good at that.

“But everything feels okay when I’m with you. You see me. You allow me just to exist as I am. You make me feel human again—you make me want to feel human again. You empty my mind.”

You feel as if you’ve been ejected into space naked, griping for air where there is none.

“I never believed in having somebody to lose,” he utters, gently leaning his forehead against yours. “But I would rather disappear than watch you go.”

You cradle his jaw with shaking fingers, trying and failing to quell the violence of your emotion.

“Don’t go,” he exhales.

You kiss him.

It should feel the same as before. You reach for the slant of his neck, him the dips above your waist. You sigh into him, parting your lips, and he moves into you deeper, harder, dipping into your mouth with his tongue’s pliant swipe. But there’s something new in the way you hold each other, in the seal of your mouth against his.

The line between sexual escapade and lover vanishes as if swept off the sand and into the sea. His stars come out of hiding at last and they bathe you in their residue, light your heart aglow.

Your confession resurfaces. It wants to stargaze also.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

The night comes and goes.

The two of you spend it entangling, sweating, your lips glued the expanse of his neck and the arcs of his shoulders, writing over the ghosts’ injuries with bruises of your making.

Only when the winds have faltered outside do you attempt to rest again. You are curled up in balmy bliss, utterly depleted. Jisung’s arms around your middle and legs threaded among yours bring you that much closer to slumber’s cusp.

You attribute it to your exhaustion when he mumbles something against you, and you have no idea what it means: “Thank you for refracting me.” 

Your confusion is palpable in your silence. His laugh hits the nape of your neck with a gentle puff, and he kisses the spot just beneath your ear. “Never mind.”

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

[bruisedboys]

all the finnick odair thoughts i have are limited to him cornering u against stuff/surfaces to tease u but his words are so nice and sweet and it doesn't really sound like he's trying to tease you but he has that quirk of his mouth that gives him away 😔 sickening

omg yes. finnick’s your sweetheart but he can be such a menace when he wants to be!!! I’m sick!!!!!

finnick odair x fem!reader

Finnick’s cornered you in the kitchen again. You weren’t expecting it, you never are, because he’s such a sweetheart usually and he doesn’t push you around unless you want it. You should’ve been expecting it, though. He’s gets into these moods after 7pm, and it’s as if the devil’s taken hold of him. He caught sight of you wearing one of his big t-shirts and pounced.

“Finnick,” you breathe. He’s pinned you to the counter, the lip of it digs into your back as his hips push into yours. “Let me go, I’m busy.”

You’re not busy. And you don’t want him to let go, not really.

“Hm, I don’t think so,” Finnick hums. “Do you have any idea how pretty you look right now?” His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt. You feel the heat of his hands on your abdomen, though they don’t touch your skin yet. “You put my shirt on and expect me not to want to eat you whole. Unbelievable.”

Your heart climbs to your throat. Why does he have to do this to you?

“Finnick,” you say, dazed. You’d like to tell him to leave you alone but you can’t get the words out, not when his big hands are climbing hot and fast to your waist, warm through the fabric of your shirt. Your tongue suddenly feels like lead.

Finnick tilts his head to the side and smiles at you, bright and sweet, as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. His lips quirks. “Yeah, honey?”

A pathetic half whine erupts from your throat. He can’t just say things like that and then smile all sweet and call you honey and expect you to be okay.

“Would you leave me alone?” You ask, strained.

Finnick gives you a quizzical look, like he doesn’t believe you. You wouldn’t, either. “Do you want me to?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, a warmth building between your chests. You don’t answer because really, the answer’s a hard no. He’d stop if you asked, but the truth is you don’t want to ask. He’s treating you like you’re made of starlight, and who are you to complain? You go quiet, and it’s telling of your true feelings.

At your silence, Finnick grins. “I didn’t think so,” he says, voice low, a dull rasp to it that makes you dizzy.

He slides his hands down to your hips and gets a good grip on them, his fingers digging into the doughy fat covering your hipbones. Then he lifts you swiftly onto the counter behind you. Your legs fall around his waist as he steps closer. He pushes his hands up your ribs and your t-shirt snags on his warm fingers. Cool air rushes over your bare skin. Finnick’s fingers dance over your ribcage. He steps closer and your heart thrums with want.

You must look as flustered as you feel, or maybe he’s noticed your laboured breathing, because Finnick’s brows pinch in what you think is faux concern.

“What’s the matter with you?” He asks, frowning something awful. He keeps you steady with one hand at your waist while the other presses two fingers to your neck, right over your pulse point. It hammers like crazy under his calloused fingers. “Your pulse is a riot. Calm down, sweetheart, it’s only me.”

He’s sick. In the head. The most awful man to ever exist. You’d tell him so but suddenly he’s pressing his mouth to yours, one hand at your throat and the other spread over one side of your ribcage, thumb digging into the skin just below your breast.

You forget all about how mean he’s being as he kisses you hard, never rough but definitely strong, enough to knock all the breath out of you. The hand he’s got at your throat drifts to your jaw and he’s gentle but commanding as he tilts your head to one side, deepening the kiss as he goes. His thumb drags down your jawline and tugs at your chin until your lips have parted, and then he kisses you some more, all lovely and hot and sticky, tasting like honey and sea salt.

When you find you physically can’t kiss him any more or else you’ll run out of air, you pull back. He chases you, but you stop him with a hand at his shoulder. You try to ignore the lean muscle you can feel under his shirt, and the warm, buzzing energy he’s emanating.

“Finnick,” you manage, breathless. “Can’t breathe.”

Finnick is evidently less breathless than you. You put it down to the fact that he trains himself to hold his breath underwater for minutes on end, and not the fact that he unravels you so easily and so quickly it’s embarrassing.

Finnick’s lips have quirked into a smug smile that’s somehow wildly attractive and terribly annoying at the same time. “Sorry, pretty girl. Got carried away, didn’t I? Must be because of how lovely you look.”

You glare at him, heart pounding in your throat. “You know you’re awful, right?” You say, not meaning it and not sounding like you mean it, either.

Finnick grins wolfishly and takes your hips in his hands again. You don’t think you’re getting out of his trap anytime soon. “Yeah, I know.”

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

[maysileeewrites]

18+ content; mdni!

Thinking about husband!Coriolanus barely being able to contain the anger and jealousy coursing through him when he sees you flirting with another man during an evening gala in the Capitol.  

You’re laughing, your whole face lighting up, your hand touching the other man’s shoulder and Coriolanus is surprised that he hasn’t broken the champagne flute in his hand, seeing how his grip on the fragile glass is so tight. 

Oh, the things he’ll do later, to punish you. You on your knees in front of him, his hands fisted in your hair, your eyes filled with tears and him fucking your mouth relentlessly- 

Suddenly, he sees the other man lean in closer towards you, placing one hand on your arm. 

Coriolanus has had enough. He carelessly places the champagne flute on a table, before walking over to you, settling his hands on your waist, his grip on you so tight that he knows it’ll leave brusises. 

Good, he thinks, smirking to himself. It will leave a reminder for you - a reminder of who you truly belong to. 

“There you are, darling”, he says, forcing a smile onto his face, before placing a deliberate kiss on your neck - a place he’d normally suck and bruise, just to drive you crazy, leaving pretty purple marks. 

He smiles when he can feel you shivering, pressing himself even closer to you. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you, darling”, he says, completely ignoring the other man staring at you both with a confused expression. 

You gasp when Coriolanus suddenly leans forward, his lips brushing over your skin, before whispering in your ear: “I told you what would happen if I’d see you flirting with another man. Now behave and be a good girl.”

You turn your head so that you’re looking right at the fire in his blue eyes, your lips so close to his that they nearly touch. 

“Or what … are you going to punish me, President Snow?”, you whisper, placing a delicate, chaste kiss on his lips. 

You feel his grip on your waist tightening even more, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. You see him biting down hard on his lips, probably trying to hold back a groan. 

You smile, satisfied, when his eyes find yours again. Two can play this game, you think, reaching up to push a stray blond curl from his forehead. 

But then you shiver when you see Coriolanus smile back at you - a promise. A threat. 

“I’m sorry”, he tells the handsome man - his name already forgotten to you, you think it’s somewhere along the lines of Alexander or Adrian - you’re pretty sure it started with an A; though you’re not entirely sure, but you also don’t really care -. „But my wife and I need a moment.” 

Then, he walks away, guiding you along with him. 

The next thing you know, you’re being pushed into an empty bathroom, your back hitting the door, Coriolanus’s mouth already on yours, his hand already finding its way under the skirt of your dress before the door has even closed properly behind you. 

He groans, breaking the kiss and burying his head in the crook of your neck when his fingers brush over the thin fabric of your panties, already soaked through with your arousal. You can’t help but shiver when his hand cups your cunt, his other hand settling on your waist with a bruising, harsh grip. 

„Look at you“, he says, his voice rough and coarse, barely more than a strained whisper, „already dripping down my fingers, even though I barely touched you - or is that all for him?“ 

His left hand moves up from your waist to your face then, forcefully cupping your cheek and forcing you to look at him. „Tell me“, he demands, his blues finding yours - a fire in them that will burn you down until you’re nothing more than a withering pile of ashes. 

But then, you’ve always liked playing with fire, living for the thrill of it. 

Still, you quickly shake your head, trying to reach for Coriolanus with one hand, but Coriolanus moves faster than you, his hand leaving your cheek, seizing your hands in his and pinning them in place above your head. 

„No - Coryo - I“, you try to say, but then he’s roughly yanking down your panties - you think you hear the thin material tear - forcefully pushing two fingers inside you. 

You gasp, clenching around him, and Coriolanus groans. 

„Fuck, Coryo - I - I don’t even know him - I - fuck“, you stumble, trying to form a coherent sentence while Coriolanus pumps his fingers in and out of at an unrelenting pace, his blue eyes never leaving yours. „I - he just came up to me and started talking to me and I-“, the rest of your words gets swallowed by the loud, whiny moan that leaves you when Coriolanus adds a third finger, pushing his hips against yours. 

Your back aches from how hard and uncomfortably its pressed against the door, but you don’t care - the only thing you care about is Coriolanus, his hungry, desperate eyes on you, his fingers inside you, you clenching desperately around them. 

„What’s his name?“, Coriolanus suddenly asks, before lowering his mouth to your neck, his lips immediately finding that spot that drives you crazy when he starts sucking on the soft, sensitive skin with his lips. 

„I - I don’t remember - fuck“, you cry, when Coriolanus curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars perfectly.  

Coriolanus leaves another bruising kiss on your skin, before coming up again - his smirk telling you that he’s going to wreck you. „Good - because I’m going to fuck every memory of him out of you“, he promises. 

Suddenly, his fingers leave you and you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness inside you, your walls clenching down around nothing, but then both his hands settle on your waist, turning you around until your front hits the bathroom door. His hands leave you for a moment and you can hear the rustling of fabric. 

Then, suddenly, the skirt of your dress is pushed to the side and Coriolanus lines himself up behind you, his erection straining against your back. 

„I’m going to fuck you - and after I’m finished with you, the only name you’ll remember is mine; the only name you’ll be screaming is mine - everyone in here, including that nobody will know that you belong to me“, he promises, before entering you in a rough, powerful thrust. 

„Fuck“, you breathe, throwing your head back. 

His cock is so big, the stretch almost painful, but unlike normally, he doesn’t give you any time to adjust to the stretch - pulling completely out of you, before slamming back into you with a harsh, almost painful thrust, his hands gripping your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh. 

His pace is unrelenting, his thrusts into you rough, and fast, and bruising. 

You whimper, your hands pressed against the door. „I - fuck, Coryo - ’s too much, fuck!“

Another painful, unrelenting thrust, but one of his hands suddenly leave your waist, moving to your clit, his fingers drawing teasing circles over the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves. 

„That’s it, good girl“, Coriolanus praises, when he can feel you start clenching around him again. 

You’re a quivering, panting mess, the lines between pain and pleasure so blurred you don’t know where one starts and the other ends. 

Coriolanus’s harsh thrusts don’t let up. The only sounds filling the bathroom are his loud groans, your whiny whimpers and the sound of skin slapping against skin. 

„What’s his name?“, Coriolanus suddenly asks you again, at the same moment his cock hits that sweet spot inside you again, his fingers still circling your clit. 

„I don’t - fuck, Coryo!“, you pant, the pressure inside you building and building and building with every one of Coriolanus’s powerful thrusts. 

„What’s his name?“, Coriolanus repeats, his hand on your waist suddenly moving up to your neck and squeezing - applying just the right amount of pressure to make you feel perfectly dizzy. 

„I don’t - I don’t remember - yes, Coryo, right there!“, you pant, when his cock starts hitting that spot inside you again and again, his fingers still stimulating your clit. 

„That’s right“, Coriolanus says, his voice rough and coarse, „you belong to me.“

„Yes“, you pant, trying desperately to move your hips to meet his movements - you’re so close and you just want to feel that sweet, dizzying release. 

„Yes, Coryo, I - you - I’m your’s.“ 

„Again“, he demands, his thrusts becoming even more rapid, his fingers still circling your clit. You know immediately what he means, what he wants from you. 

„Coryo - I - I’m yours“, you pant, clenching around him. 

His lips find the soft, sensitive skin of your neck then, leaving a bruising kiss. „Good girl.“ 

It’s all too much for you, then - Coriolanus inside you, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, his fingers circling your clit, his hand on your throat, his lips on your neck, his words that make your head spin. 

Your back arches, and you come with Coriolanus’s name on your lips, your cry so loud that you’re pretty sure that everyone that’s still gathered in the hall outside is able to hear it. 

But you don’t care, because all you can think about is Coriolanus. 

„Fuck“, he groans when he feels your walls squeezing him. 

His grip on you tightens, and suddenly, he bites down on the soft skin of your neck. He thrusts into you again, and once more, making you whimper, and then he’s coming as well, his hot cum shooting into you. 

„Fuck, Coryo“, you whimper, the added sensation too much for you. 

For a moment, Coriolanus’s heavy breathing is your only answer. You stay like that for a moment - pressed against the door, him still inside you. 

Then, Coriolanus presses a soft kiss to your throat. „Good girl“, he praises again, pulling out of you, his hand leaving your neck. „But I think you still need a reminder of who you belong to“, he adds, before suddenly his fingers are pushing back inside you, smearing his cum around your walls and your clit. 

Suddenly, he bends down to retrieve your panties from where they hang around your ankles. You were right before, you think dizzyly, when you watch him tugging your panties up towards your waist again, the material did tear. 

Coriolanus, however doesn’t care, stopping only once he’s pushed your panties up your waist again - smearing his cum across the thin material, before pressing your panties back against your swollen, cum-covered, oversensitive clit. 

You whimper - you know what he’s going to do. He’s going to force you to walk around in your panties, soaked through with his still hot cum for the rest of the evening - a reminder that you belong to him. He’s the only one who gets to fuck you.  

„There“, he says pressing a chaste, tender kiss to your shoulder - the gentle sensation in stark contrast to his harsh grip on your cunt. 

„This should serve as a sufficient reminder, don’t you think, darling?“ 

tagging: @namelesslosers

someone please get me some holy water so I can cleanse my mind from these very unsophisticated thoughts

for more Coryo imagines, take a look at my Coryo masterlist :)

[sxcret-garden]

Making out with Ateez

ღ Ateez all members x gn!reader ღ genre: fluff (?), very suggestive (not quite smut yet, but also not appropriate for my sfw blog so I'm posting it here :')) ღ warnings: none

Hongjoong:

You've barely taken off all your clothes when he's already pulling you into the shower, a smile on his face filled with adoration for you, and he can't take his eyes off you. You've been making out for quite a while before this, and from the way he touches you unhurriedly and with much care you can tell he can keep going like this for another while until the need for more will finally overcome him. But for now he pulls you close gently, a smile still present on his lips as he leans in to give you a short kiss, and when he turns on the shower and the warm water flows down your skin, you relax yet a little more in his arms. Fingertips dancing down your back and drawing little pattern along your spine, he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips, where he lingers. The taste of him and that of the water mixes on your tongue as he parts your lips to deepen the kiss, and one of his hands snake up to the back of your neck to support you there. Chest pressed against chest, all you can do is hold onto his shoulders as he kisses you with great care, but need is slowly taking over his movements. Teeth nibbling on your lower lip, he only gets more eager when he hears you moan at his actions, and eventually his palms wander from your back to your front, touching you there. "Hongjoong..." you call out his name in between kisses, "I need you." Your muttered words are met with darkened eyes and a promise to take care of you, before he closes the distance between you two again. His kiss is almost rushed this time, though he's careful when pushing you against the shower wall so you two won't slip. The impact makes you gasp - merely an excuse for him to move away from your lips, starting to trail kisses down your throat and chest instead.

Seonghwa:

With his hand on the small of your back he brings you in closer, eyes glued to your mouth as his tongue darts over his bottom lip. The tension is obvious in the whole room, and though you feel like you could burst right then and there, you drag out the wait just a little longer. As you're sitting in his lap, you roll your hips once, drawing a barely audible sound from him and you watch as his eyes flutter shut for a second. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, you play with the ends of his short hair, and then finally you lean in. It's you who makes the first move, but you know that Seonghwa will soon take the lead from you - too high his confidence in making you go crazy with a single kiss, and too big his greed to feel you giving yourself up to him completely on top of him. You brush your lips against the corner of his mouth softly, withdrawing immediately so as to keep him from making you hand over control right away, but when you lean in once more you can't resist the velvety sensation of his lips against yours. His touches are hot from the start, kissing you as if he wanted to devour you - but in a very graceful way that has fooled you before. His fingertips sneaking underneath your clothes and leaving teasing touches on your skin are burning, and yet you want more, and when you wiggle even closer to him you already know he's got you trapped under his spell. Tongue skillfully exploring your mouth, his hand at the small of your back gives you but one nudge to make you roll your hips on top of him at a steady pace, and as you feel his bulge growing underneath you, heat rushes through your own body as well.

Yunho:

You crawl on top of him, straddling him on your bed, and taking off your shirt, you throw him a smile. Yunho simply watches, hands flying to your hips instinctively, but his fingertips merely brush against the skin there. He lets you have the lead for now, curious of what you’re about to do. You cup his face in both your hands and you lean in, lips brushing against his and lingering for a while, and when you bring some distance between the two of you to get a good look at his face, you can see the desire burning up behind his half-lidded eyes. “You want me?” you ask while you shoot him a playful grin, and when you see him nod ever so slightly, you press your index finger against his parted lips. “Let’s go slow today, baby.” Leaning back in, you kiss him unhurriedly. You feel him falling into your rhythm, letting you lead as your palms begin to roam his chest and eventually you rake your fingers up into his hair. Tugging at the strands as you part his lips with your tongue, you deepen the kiss. And though you can feel a fire ignite deep inside you, you keep going slow. Eventually you pull his shirt off him too, both of you now sitting up, and Yunho’s hands are grasping at you more firmly. Palms placed on your sides, he looks up at you, and you take in his expression as you roll your hips on top of him once, watching as his eyelids flutter shut momentarily. Muttered words of praise escape you, before you press your lips onto his once more, and suddenly the way you find yourself kissing him becomes sloppy and impatient. With his hands dancing up your torso, you grind against him, and eventually he cups your face and he breaks the kiss. Thumb brushing over your lower lip, his gaze drops to your mouth, and as he draws closer, you know it’s his turn to take the lead now. Nibbling on your bottom lip, he makes you moan into the next kiss, and you allow yourself to melt against his touch, until he flips your positions, now hovering above you. You throw your arms around his shoulders, reaching up into his hair again, and you throw your head back as he begins leaving kisses down your throat, and moving further down, and soon his lips are mapping out your whole body. 

Yeosang:

What started as a few playful kisses to motivate him during his workout is beginning to turn into more of a heated makeout session than you two had planned. He had wanted to get in a few quick exercises at home, and as he was doing sit ups you had decided to help him, taking a hold of his legs to steady him and receiving a peck on the lips with every time he came all the way up. You were giggling about it at first, but sure enough the sight of your boyfriend working out in a sleeveless shirt awakened entirely different feelings within you. And so you’re now hovering above him as he’s lying down on the floor, leaning in for a teasing kiss on the lips. Too soon you move on to make your way from the corner of his mouth down his throat, and when he leans his head back to give you better access, you linger there for a while. Nipping at the skin and luring a deep moan out of him as you sink your teeth into one particular spot, you remind yourself not to leave a mark on him where it would be visible. Instead, you come back up to have a look at his face, and one of your hands finds its way underneath his shirt. Fingertips dancing over his abs, you make your way to his chest, pulling up the piece of clothing as you go. Yeosang lets you, curious eyes watching your every move, and when you begin leaving kisses down his chest, you feel him letting go of the tension in his body underneath you. You reach his stomach eventually, letting your lips explore that area of his body as well, and eventually you force yourself to make your way back up. “Not yet,” you whisper, barely audible, finding a hint of impatience in the look he gives you. You lean back in, kissing him properly and not wasting much time to deepen the kiss as you moan into his mouth. With you taking the lead, he follows you, his arms sneaking around your waist to pull you closer. Eventually, you find yourself reaching for his wrists, your lips brushing against his palms, and as you pin his hands above his head, he simply lets you, longing for your next kiss. 

San:

You know your boyfriend is doing this on purpose whenever he gets out of the shower, towel merely wrapped around his hips and his skin and hair still damp. And it's not like you can even blame him, because you know that if his plan of luring you towards him with that appearance works, you're sure to be in for a treat. And today it sure does, because you get up without resistance, and when you're standing in front of him, his hands are already resting on your waist, thumbs sneaking underneath your shirt. You run your nails down his upper body, mapping out his toned chest and abs as he leans in to kiss you. It's a feathery light kiss, quite in contrast to his intentions, but the way his lips linger on yours only make you want more. Palms moving all the way back up his torso, you place your hands at the back of his neck to bring him back in just after he parts from you, this time running your tongue across his lips to part them and to deepen the kiss. He lets you take the lead, but only for a bit, because next thing you know he has you pressed against the wall with your hands pinned above your head. Kisses you with such fervour and passion that your head starts to spin and when you break apart you're not only breathless but also devoid of all thought. Already your mind is filled with nothing but him, and so when he lets go of your wrists to pull your shirt off you instead, your hands find their way to his back, feeling his muscles dance underneath the skin with each of his movements. His lips don't hesitate to find yours in another passionate kiss, and when you feel him rolling his hips into yours to tease you, you moan into his mouth, and he does the same when impatience drives you to drag your nails down his broad back.

Mingi:

You didn't mean to interrupt him as he was preparing dinner for the two of you, but as you snuck up to him to give him a playful backhug, one thing just led to another and he turned around to give you a kiss that felt maybe a little too passionate for the situation. So now he has you standing there, starstruck, realizing the effect his unexpected action had on you. And just when he gives you a smile full of adoration, you take a step forward and you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him in for another kiss. When you part this time, one look at each other's face is enough to know that he's not gonna continue cooking anytime soon. And so instead he gently nudges you into a different position with one hand on your waist and the other cupping your face, so he could trap you in between the kitchen counter and his body. His lips find yours again with chaste but curious touches as if he was kissing you for the very first time. But really, it's all just his way of teasing you and of making you want more eventually, and you know it. Still, you can't but enjoy the way he leads your kisses, falling deeper into the push and pull game he's playing with you by always parting from you when he can feel you starting to melt against him. Eventually he helps you sit up atop the kitchen counter, and with your legs wrapped around him to keep him close, you become more demanding in the way you kiss him back. Hands roaming his chest and eventually tearing off his shirt impatiently, you've reached a point where the need to feel his kisses not just on your mouth, but all over your body arises. And you know he feels the same, because his palms are now restlessly searching your figure, eventually finding their way underneath your clothes, and when you feel him finally trailing kisses down the side of your throat you can't help but throw your head back and whisper praises meant to keep him going.

Wooyoung:

You bite your lip as you lay back on his bed and you watch him crawling on top of you. Extending your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair, neither of you wastes a single second to connect your lips to the other's. His kiss already tells you everything - that he wants you and that he's probably been thinking about all the things he's about to do to you the entire day. Still you know he's not one to rush things, especially when it comes to alone time with just you, and that's something you can read in his kiss as well. He moves his lips against yours slowly, but with deliberation in every single touch. He wants you, and he wants to take his time with you to savour every moment spent with you like this. And yet, everything he does to you feels so intense - the way he's now trailing kisses from the corner of his mouth to your jaw, the way his lips brush against your skin, and also the way his hands are slowly sliding down your arms so he could intertwine his fingers with yours. Thumb rubbing soothing circles at the back of one hand, he leaves little nips and curious bites down the side of your throat, and when he finally lures a moan out of you he can't but grin in satisfaction. There's mischief in his eyes as he comes up to have a look at your face, and even in between all of his teasing he won't let it be taken away from him to cup your face lovingly in his palm, brushing his thumb over your cheek now, before he leans back in for another kiss meant solely to rile you up some more.

Jongho:

You rush inside from the unexpected rain hand in hand, hurrying so as to reach your dry apartment soon, yet giggling because somehow the two of you find amusement in the way none of you came prepared for the weather. Without an umbrella at hand, you both became drenched in the sudden rain, and so obviously the first thing to do as you arrive home would be to find a dry set of clothes to change into. Or so you had thought, because as soon as you have taken off your shoes and locked up, he gets a few steps ahead of you, making you halt with his eyes glued to your lips. No thoughts wasted on why he’s stopping you, your body simply responds to the way he gives you merely a gentle push with his hand at the small of your back, and before you know it, your eyes flutter shut and he’s kissing you. You can taste the rain as his lips brush against yours, and when your hands search for something to hold onto, you find his soaked sweater, tugging at the fabric to pull him yet a little closer. You break apart for air eventually, unable to escape the way he’s mustering you from top to bottom, and almost forgetting to breathe under his intense stare. One hand now cupping your face, and the other resting on your hip to give you a gentle squeeze there, he steers you back a few steps until he has you pinned against the nearest wall, his lips finding yours again. Not letting you deepen the kiss just yet, he breaks apart from you too soon, and as he sneaks his thumb underneath your shirt, you can hear him mutter, “You’re gonna catch a cold.” Understanding what he’s hinting at, you let him help you slip out of the piece of clothing, and as soon as it lands on the floor, his hands are back on your sides. He kisses you with more passion now, pulling you in yet a bit closer, and all you can do is match his rhythm as you feel yourself melting against his kiss.

[kookslastbutton]

Loverboy ༓ kth (m)

✑ Summary: After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

Pairing: taehyung x reader

AU/Genre: fluff, smut, angst, established relationship

Word Count: 7,177

Warnings: feat. Jimin and Tannie, body insecurity (including some self-deprecation but nothing toooo bad), sexual insecurity, a hint of marriage insecurity, catty coworkers (one who wants your bf! 😠), swearing, social drinking, and explicit sexual content

Sexual warnings: oh where do I start? dom!taehyung, sub!reader, two smut scenes, praise kink, asking for consent, lingerie, foggy glasses, reader is on pill, f*ngering in the kitchen, oral (f.), d*rty talk, making out, tiny bit of breastplay, m*ssonary (legs over shoulders and then around waist), hand holding while c*ming bc I'm a sap, slight begging kink, back kisses, cuddling, taehyung calls oc sl*t once but all other times he is calling her beautiful, baby, etc., lots of neck kisses, oc does her best to initiate, if I have overlooked some my apologies....these are the main ones though.

Now Playing: UP by J. Valentine (thanks to tae's live 😳)

A/N: I've been have crazy tae fever 😅 once again my pwp's turn into fluffy one-shots hahah with smut ofc. Anyway please enjoy 🥰 fyi oc isn't a virgin nor shy generally speaking, but she's nervous about her sexual abilities.

The last ten minutes of work on Fridays are possibly the best moments of your life.

And it’s all thanks to an unspeakably gorgeous man with ruffled ebony hair, perfectly plump cherry lips, and a seductive tiger-like gaze. The faint mole on his nose is wicked cute too and when he puts his reading glasses on–oh fuck.

Of course, you’re referring to your boyfriend, Taehyung. You accidentally bumped into him while he was taking his Pomeranian for a walk four months ago; leading to the messiest (yet cute) first date ever. Now, he and Tannie come over to your apartment every weekend for snuggles under your cozy fleece blankets.

TGIF right?

But while Friday nights typically consist of snuggling with two goofs, it means getting hammered at the bar downtown to your coworkers. You don’t typically take up their invites to join but tonight you were guilt-tripped into it. Something about chumming with the gossipy group rather than being on their blacklist for the seventh rejection in a row was more appealing—they can be a vicious bunch.

Taehyung wasn't off work for another hour or two anyway, leaving you with a decent amount of time to kill. So why not appease the peanut gallery for a few?

“It’s my two-year anniversary with Eun-woo,” one of your coworkers, Ji-won, pipes up after taking a sip of her Cosmopolitan. She swirls the glass in her hand before setting it down on the table. Ji-won works in the finance department and is absolutely gorgeous. Her skin is clear, has honey-colored eyes, and possibly the best body proportions a woman can have. Her personality is no joke either and her laugh? Infectious. Everyone who comes across her either wants to marry her or be her best friend.

The cynical part of you wants to dislike her but it’s impossible–that’s how charismatic she is.

“Oh my god, congratulations babe!” Another coworker of yours reaches over and pulls the woman into a tight squeeze, giggling at the news. Suzy also works in the finance department and the pair are the best of friends. “I can’t believe how well it’s been going between you and Eun-woo! What are you doing to celebrate? You have to tell me!” She grabs her friend's shoulders and shakes her.

Unlike Ji-won, Suzy is much more energetic and eager to know the details of everyone’s lives. Nosy in other words. But despite her invasiveness, she manages to attract a great number of suitors as well; taking nearly half of them home with her every night. Suzy has beautiful bone structure and to get to the point, she’s naturally very sexy.

You don’t feel the same way towards her as you do with Ji-won; you dislike her quite a bit. The main reason is that she has an insane crush on your boyfriend and shamelessly flirts with him whenever he’s around. She’s told you many times before that if anything happened between you two, to let her know. She masks it as a joke to lighten the blow but god, you don’t like calling people a bitch but if the shoe fits.

“We’re taking a short weekend trip to Jeju Island,” you hear Ji-won’s silky voice reply, cheeks growing rosier with each word. “I think he might propose to me but I’m so nervous.” Her fingers move to grip her Cosmopolitan; raising it to her ruby-red lips to take another sip.

“That’s so wonderful,” you start, downing a shot yourself. The burn of the alcohol rolling down the back of your throat serves as an excellent distraction from your personal worries about marriage. You love the idea but would anyone stay with you for life?

Your relationship with Taehyung has been going swimmingly well, with the occasional fight here and there, but you haven’t been together nearly long enough for a proposal to come into the picture. Maybe someday but you can’t afford to jump ahead of yourself.

“Jeju Island will be perfect for you both. You’re like a couple straight from the Hallmark movies,” you continue with an encouraging smile. “You be sure to tell us if he really does propose though. What hint did he give to cause your suspicions?”

Ji-won chuckles and tucks some of her hair behind an ear. “We were packing for the trip last night and I saw him sneak a small jewelry box into his bag. I didn’t say anything because I thought maybe I was seeing things but when I thought about it later, I don’t think I was wrong.”

Once again, Suzy grips the poor woman’s arm to tug it out of excitement. “Please tell me I get to plan the bachelorette party! I’ll hire only the best strippers for you babe, as long as you want them of course. Oh, I’m just so crazy about this! Weddings are my heart and soul!”

After watching the scene unfold in front of you a grimace spreads on your lips. “Weddings are your heart and soul?” you repeat as a question, trying to withhold your judgment. “Last I knew you weren’t the fondest of happily ever afters.”

“That’s a good point!” A fist suddenly pounds on the table. You all look toward the source; your third coworker Mina who’s already borderline drunk. Mina is your IT specialist and after so much HTML and Python, her brain is utterly fried. Similar to you, she started dating someone about six months back except he’s been on an overseas business trip for the past week.

“Suzy,” she points at the woman whose eyes widen at the stark gesture. “You sleep around, right? So __’s right that you don’t actually like fairytale weddings.” Her words slur a bit due to her drunken state.

Across the table, Suzy rolls her eyes and shrugs. “For myself yeah, but not for other people. I’m not against weddings entirely.” She leans towards Ji-won with hopeful eyes. “By the way, if you need help picking out what underwear to bring with you on your trip, just say the word.”

Ji-won’s previous blush returns fourfold at the offer. “Thanks but I have that under control.”

“Oh good,” she praises, waving her margarita around in her hand. “It’d be an atrocity if you didn’t. Lingerie is the cherry on top for keeping your sex life spicy, and if you didn’t have any I’d drag all of us to the store right now. __ agrees with me.” She winks. “Her and Taehyung must have gone through tons of sets by now.”

What. The. Fuck.

When did Ji-won’s potential engagement turn into a poke into your sex life?

You choose to ignore the comment entirely.

Not that she needs to know but you and Taehyung have recently started becoming very active in the bedroom; you're never in the same position twice. Even began getting down and dirty in the back seat of his car (...if he isn’t the biggest experimentalist you’ve dated then you don’t even know your own name).

But while it's been wild in the bedroom, lingerie isn’t an area you’ve explored yet.

You know, it sounds crazy. Surely a couple that's open to a whole list of kinks and positions would dabble in something as basic as lacy underwear.

It's not the case here.

Truth is you're timid of the whole idea; of purposefully seducing someone with your body. Would you be so bold? No, even if you are interested to try it out, you'd shy away within the first ten seconds.

Yes, you've recently become sexually active with your boyfriend but 90% of the time it's him who's doing the initiating. The subtle hand on your thigh or kiss on your neck while you're trying to wash the dishes—he's truly evil with that one.

Not to mention that Taehyung has your clothes ripped off before you can blink so what's the point of buying expensive, itchy lingerie?

Atrocity or not, you have your reasons.

"Well?" The sound of Suzy's nagging tone brings you out of your daze. She stares you down with piercing eyes, demanding a reply.

You merely shrug and take another shot.

Sorry, but you're not really into the whole swapping sex stories with the woman who wants to sleep with your boyfriend.

Suzy gives a small huff when she realizes you aren't talking. "So anyway..." she turns to the other two. "Sex is boring without a proper lace set. Or silk if that's more your thing. I have at least twenty in my draw." She takes the lime from the rim of her glass and plops it into her margarita proudly.

You're mid-eye roll when you hear Mina shouting in agreement. "Hell yeah, it's boring! I just got a new set the other day for a video call I'm having with my boyfriend tomorrow night." A round of oohs is given before she continues. You on the other hand listen intently. "Ever since he's been away in England at his conferences, it's been like a heaven sent to keeping our sex life alive."

Ji-won nods. "I wasn't sure how it would go the first time I wore lace for Eun-woo. Once I did, we never went back. It gave me a sense of power to take the lead too, which most men find really hot. It gets tiring when they have to do all the work all the time."

The girls chuckle together while your mind reels. Taehyung's never had a problem with you being in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants before fucking you silly. But then again, it's not like you've ever asked him.

Your face flushes at the thought—you've never actually asked if he wanted more.

Is he actually happy with the sex?

Should you be doing more for him like wearing lacy underwear or a maid outfit (or whatever's in these days)?

Maybe he isn't satisfied at all but tolerates it because he loves you. Sex isn't the only part that matters in a relationship you know.

Still.

It's an important one.

And if a few pieces of lace are seemingly such a necessity as your coworkers attest...then you're fucked.

Ji-woo places a gentle hand on your shoulder and furrows her eyebrows in concern. "You feeling okay? This is the second time you've zoned out in twenty minutes."

"Oh my god," Suzy gasps, hand covering her mouth. "It makes sense now. You haven't had sex with Taehyung yet have you?!" Her eyes smile at you devilishly as she bites down a grin. This woman seriously needs to get a hobby other than obsessing over your boyfriend.

"Actually," you drawl, scooting your chair backward until you're able to get up. "We have multiple times and we don't plan on stopping. He's coming to my place in an hour or so where he'll gladly fuck me wherever we please. I gotta head out for that now but see you all Monday."

You hurry away from the group as quick as you can, fully aware of their eyes burning holes in the back of your neck and jaws dropping in shock. Why did you say that __? Fuck it.

You feel unwell.

For the next hour and a half, you're restless; pacing around the house in search of meaningless tasks to do. Cleaning usually helps in these situations, though it's proving quite useless this time.

Are you a good sex partner?

Does he secretly wish you'd take the riegns more?

You fluff the living room pillow and toss it on the couch. Stupid. It's all stupid but you can't shake it.

When your boyfriend finally arrives at your place, you take a deep breath before throwing the front door open.

"Hi baby, how was your d—"

As soon as Taehyung strolls inside and sets Tannie down on your apartment floor, you grab the collar of his shirt and press your lips firmly on his. He's surprised at your boldness yet not the slightest disappointed given the hands that smoothly settle around your hips.

"I missed you," you say desperately, walking him back into your kitchen island. Taehyung grunts when the small of his back hits the edge.

"I missed you more."

He shoves his tongue into your mouth, drawing out a sweet moan from your lips. His favorite is when you gasp, hips bucking into his. So with subtle fingers, he untucks your blouse from your pants to trace up the expanse of your back. His cool fingers cause you to shiver as he does this; not because you're chilly but because of the growing anticipation inside you.

As Taehyung runs his large palms up and down your bare back, you card through his soft, fluffy hair. He knows how messed up you enjoy making it. That and it's typically a sign that you're extremely turned on; yearning for him.

He'll gladly take either.

"Oh!" You yelp when he spins you around until it's your back against the counter. An unexpected giggle comes out of you upon seeing his glasses foggy from your mid-make-out session. You do the honors of removing them from his face and carefully set them on the counter. "Hi handsome," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

Taehyung lowers his head to nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, placing several feather-like kisses along the ridge. "Beautiful," he returns your greeting, smokey eyes lifting back up to meet yours. "Wasn't prepared to be kissed like that."

"Did you like it?" You bite your lip which most definitely does nothing to tame the growing erection in his trousers. Taehyung brings a thumb up to your lower lip and swipes across it lightly before pushing it into your mouth.

"I liked it a little too much." His voice drops a few octaves as he watches you suck on the digit. He'd rather have it be his big cock but it's all about the build-up. "I was trying to be a good boyfriend and ask about your day but all you seem to want is to get dicked down on your kitchen counter. Is that all that's on your mind tonight baby? To spread your legs like a dirty girl?"

You whine and rub your thighs together but he prys them apart with his knee. He then moves to unbutton your pants, watching for a nod in consent.

"Please Tae," you say once he retracts his thumb from your mouth, giving a brief nod. "Been waiting all week for you to touch me."

"Shit." Taehyung makes quick work of your pant button and unfastens the zip. He then dips his fingers into your underwear to glide across your folds. "You want me to touch you here baby? Stick my fingers in you and make you come around them?" He teases, obvious that you're wetter than the Pacific Ocean; you could probably take him all right here and now if he desired.

"Yes, put them in," you beg, bucking your hips into his hand. "Please, can't wait much longer."

He smirks at your neediness and begins to sink two of his fingers into your wet pussy, just the tips. "How's this? Can you come like this? You're so wet I bet you can."

You shake your head, inches from snarling at him. "More. Need your whole finger in me to come. Baby—"

As soon as you drop the 'B' word Taehyung pushes his fingers into you, all the way to the knuckle. The loud gasp you let out reminds him of how far his fingers can actually reach; sometimes he forgets how long and slender they are.

His pace is steady from the start, fingers pumping in and out of you as he watches your head fall back further and further in pleasure.

"Fuck," he swears and quickens his speed, curling his fingers to properly stimulate your sweet spot. "I can feel your pussy clenching and throbbing already. Come whenever you want okay?"

"Uh," you answer in a pant, sweat lining across your forehead as your body jerks back and forth.

"Mm that's it," he coos. "Can't even talk can you? That's okay, focus on how my fingers are making you feel. Good right?" He continues thrusting inside of you, loving how you've started riding his fingers in an attempt to make yourself come faster.

"F-feels amazing Tae!" You moan as the peak of your high inches closer and closer. To help get you off, Taehyung circles his thumb over your clit and latches his lips to the side of your neck.

"You wanna come?" He taunts between kisses and you reply with a breathy 'yes'. Taehyung smirks and nibbles on your ear, licking the shell of it a little until finally, you come all over his fingers.

"Such a dirty slut," he says, slipping his fingers out of you and cleaning them off. He kisses you afterward while his hands work to remove your blouse. Once he has the material pushed off your shoulders he kisses a hot trail down to your collarbone.

Taehyung reaches behind your back to unclasp your bra next but then, he feels your body suddenly tense up. It's not a good tense-up either, it's stiff and uncomfortable.

"You okay beautiful?" He stops all movements and puts his hands on either side of you, caging you between him and the counter. "Did I go too far? Shit I'm sorry if I did, you can tell me."

You shake your head fervently, rejecting the idea. "No, you didn't do anything." You then glance down at yourself in your plain black underwear; nothing fancy. All at once the conversation with your coworkers floods your thoughts again and you feel silly for letting it consume you but it does, it bothers you.

"Taehyung I—" you choke on your words as you watch your boyfriend's previously playful face turn into one of worry. You glance down at your hands and chuckle, feeling bad that you just ruined the mood. "I really need your dick in me, let's just get back to it." You move to kiss him but he doesn't let you.

"Hold on a second. I know that laugh," he says, looking deep into your eyes. "Something's bothering you."

"Oh no, I was just thinking that you must be really hard right now so—" You wave your hands about but he grasps them into his, softly.

"Stop. My dick can wait. What's going on?"

You sigh and allow your shoulders to slump a little. "Its nothing, Tae."

"Which means it's absolutely something." He takes the initiative to lift you on the counter; into a seated position and you know, you're not getting out of this until you tell him what's up.

A good 30 seconds of silence pass with him patiently waiting for you to say something, anything. Taehyung's about to prod a little more until you blurt it out all at once.

"Am I sexy? I mean, we have sex but are you...satisfied? Are there fantasies you haven't told me yet? And what about lingerie? You know I haven't worn any of that so...am I boring? Is it boring to have sex with me? Because I can wear that stuff if you want...if you like it I mean."

Taehyung's mouth gapes open at you, baffled by what he's just heard. It takes him a few moments to gather his thoughts; the last thing he wants is to be an idiot and reply dumbly.

"I'm sorry," he starts and rubs soothing circles on your hands. "I don't know where to start. Of course, you're sexy, you're my angel. And boring? This coming from the woman who makes me hard just by looking at her?"

"Tae I know that–"

"I love you," he continues. "And I love all the things your pussy does to me. There's nothing you need to do, wear, or say for those to be true. Now who gave you the idea that you're boring? Was it me? Shit, it was me wasn't it?"

"No! It wasn't." Your fingers tighten in his hold, eyebrows raising in slight alarm. "I was out with some girls from work and they said that lingerie is the cherry on top for keeping sex spicy. They also said that sex is boring without it and that a woman should take charge in the bedroom so her partner isn't doing all the work."

"Well, that's bullshit."

"Taehyung! You're not taking this seriously."

"I am baby. I promise I am. But since when did fabric define a healthy, thriving sex life? We fuck all the time without lingerie and last I checked we both come. And you know why? Because we're made for each other and we have really great sex. I'm not one to blab about our sex life to others but if I did, everyone would be jealous. Especially of me, because I'm with a literal angel. So not to belittle your coworkers but they're a little narrow-minded."

The faintest smirk pulls at the corner of your boyfriend's lips as he slowly dances his fingers along your waist. "By the way, I would happily do all the work. I aim to please as you know. And taking charge isn't a problem for you seeing as you practically jumped me two seconds from walking into the door. Poor Tannie is scarred for life now. I think he ran into your bedroom."

"Stop," you allow a chuckle, feeling the tension lighten from his joke. "Tannie's seen a lot worse, I'm sure. He just likes my fluffy comforter. Little dog has high standards just like his daddy."

"It's true, I spoiled him too early." Taehyung's grin spreads like oil across his face and you smile as well, not as wide as his but enough that the mood picks back up. "Back to what we were talking about though. I don't want you to think that you're not giving me enough okay? Maybe for your coworkers, sex is different for them and fair enough, they have their own relationships to maintain. But, as long as you're alright with how we're doing, both in and out of the bedroom, then we're perfectly fine."

"So..." You pause to take in the drastic difference in opinion. "You don't want me to wear a sexy lace set or something? What about a ribboned bodysuit? I've seen those becoming more and more popular because they show–"

"Yes, I–I'm aware of the variety out there." He wets his lips, thumbs pressing into your delicate skin harder. "I won't lie in saying I wouldn't love seeing you in a set or two, but I think it's up to you. Because the only thing I need is for you to be comfortable, whether it's in an oversized t-shirt and baggy sweats or naked on this countertop. You're stunnimg to me either way because it's you in front of me and no one else."

"I love you Tae," you sigh and lean into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist to bring him near. Naturally, his crotch brushes against yours as he inches to stand between your parted legs. "Wow, you're still hard?" You snort, feeling his very obvious bulge.

Taehyung kisses the top of your head. "Yes, you'll be surprised at how long I can last with a boner."

A week after your conversation with Taehyung and getting possibly the best fuck of your life on your kitchen island, you find yourself at the mall with your favorite pink-haired boy; Park Jimin. You and Jimin have been close since college and when you say there are no secrets between you, you mean it.

Jimin is also a fashion mogul which is why he's insisted he tag along with you on your search for new clothes. Due to the coolness of the season, you're in need of some warm fall clothing. He prefers you look for something from Dior or Chanel but you put a stop to that; your bank account doesn't have the funds to support that joy ride just yet.

"My grandma's sweater looks better." You hear your best friend sass for the twentieth time behind you. "Put it back __."

"No." You throw the hanger with the baby blue cardigan over your arm and continue browsing through the sale rack. "I happen to like this one, you snob."

The man instantly slaps a hand over his heart as if mimicking being shot. "So rude when I'm just trying to save you from a fashion disaster. If my assistance isn't needed then I might as well go over to the men's section and take a look at the new cufflinks I saw on the way in."

You give your eyes a roll and if you did it once more, they'd get stuck up there. "Fine by me, you've been gawking at them the entire time we've been here. I thought you didn't dwell with the commoners Mr. Only-Buys-Designer-Staight-From-The-Runway-Itself."

"Well, what can I say," Jimin snaps and heads for the other side of the store. "We all have faults. It just so happens that my new partner prefers these kinds of cheap renditions over classic Prada cufflinks."

"Aww poor Chim," you holler after him. "Maybe gift him a pair for Christmas to help break him in?"

"Tried that for his birthday and it was a major fail __. But it's all good because I'm saving that gift for someone else."

You freeze at the questionable choice of words. "And who's that?" you ask. Jimin whips his head over a shoulder and smiles sweetly.

"Your boyfriend. Did you forget he also loves designer?"

"Oh yeah, right. Thanks, Jimin." You hold out the baby blue cardigan, observing it once more. Maybe you shouldn't get this? Not that it matters to Taehyung what you wear either but....maybe it does look old ladyish.

"Hey," your best friend strides over to you again with a softened expression. "Everything alright between you two?"

"Everything's great, you just got me thinking of something is all. I recently had a small talk with him last night about, you know, our bedroom situation."

Though your voice is lowered Jimin understands you clearly. You confide in him a lot so of course he knows about all your personal challenges; the ins and outs of you. He's known about your hesitations towards lingerie and intimacy long before Taehyung came into the picture.

"Oh shit," he swears under his breath. "What did he say?"

You proceed to retell him the highlights of last week's conversation; how sensitive Taehyung was to you and how he told you it's up to you if you want to bring lingerie into the mix. Jimin nods along.

"So what about you then? Do you want to explore the endless realm of lacy bodysuits, transparent bras and panty sets, garters, and aisles of naughty roleplay outfits to fulfill your sexual fantasies or no?"

"Damn, no wonder that lingerie store you worked at straight out of college didn't want you to leave. Anyway, I was thinking about giving it a try but I'm still unsure. It's not that I don't want to or that Taehyung's pressuring me–I still just feel really nervous."

"Here's a thought then." Jimin hums aloud. "What if we went to an underwear store and you tried on a few things? You don't have to buy any of it or take any home to show off. It'll be an experiment of sorts."

You ponder the idea and it doesn't sound half bad. Low commitment right?

"Okay. I think there's a Victoria's Secret on the second floor."

"Oh no no," the man shakes his head as if amused by your cuteness. "We're going somewhere a little more special than that."

"Jimin! Help please!" You holler from inside the dressing room of one the poshest boutiques you've been in. Turns out the place you've been dragged to is a high-end underwear store called Delilah's. You were beyond skeptical of the price on your way in but it wasn't horrible.

"Oh my god," Jimin rushes into the stall with you as soon as you call for him. "You look so sexy in this __. Like a Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped."

"The tiny silk bows on this thing barely cover my nipples." And you're not exaggerating. The set you've opted to try on first is Jimin's pick; a strappy red two-piece with matching garters, silk choker, and bows over both breasts. He says it's supposed to be like a sexy Mrs. Clause but while it's sexy for sure, it's way more revealing than how you'd prefer (at least the first time trying this kind of thing out).

"Turn around," he commands. "You're straps are a little loose."

"I don't think this one fits me Chim. This is obviously meant for a specific body type and it's not mine." You have a hard time staring at yourself in the mirror so you stare down towards the floor instead.

Jimin takes a small breath and turns your shoulders back around so you're facing him again. "This is for anyone who wants to wear it, love. Your body is beautiful and this set looks smashing on you. If it's not your style, no problem, but I won't have you getting down on yourself."

"You're starting to sound like Taehyung now." You give a nervous chuckle and rub your arm.

"If it means you listen to him then good. I'm your best friend and your biggest supporter __ so you know I'll always be honest with you. Now do we not like this because it's not to your taste or is it because you're not good enough for it?"

"Not...my taste," you slowly draw out the words. "Thanks Chim."

"You really mean that?" He straight into your eyes, knowing you have a habit of telling him only what he wants to hear sometimes. You nod.

"Yes, and I was thinking maybe we can keep the color the same but go for something a little tamer?"

"Anything for you, love."

Well, he convinced you to buy the third set you tried on at the boutique. It's a similar shade of red as the first set; the ones with the bows on it, but covers a bit more. Both the bra and panties are strappy and made of sheer, but also have the occasional lace detailing to cover the important parts. A matching red robe made of silk was included in the purchase too.

When you got home, you shoved the set into the back of your drawer, not thinking you'd take it out any time soon.

But alas, you did.

You're now twisting in front of your bedroom mirror with it on, along with the robe which loosely hangs off your shoulder.

"Is this cute?" You ask yourself. "I look kinda different with it on. Maybe I should return it," you continue to talk to yourself in mutters until your bedroom door squeaks open. You jump at the sudden intrusion.

There, sauntering into the bedroom is your boyfriend's dog. Being Friday again, Taehyung and Tannie came over to spend the weekend with you. But while your boyfriend is busy showering in your bathroom, Tannie has decided he wants to make himself cozy on your bed.

"Hi Tan." You crouch down on your knees in front of the pup and give him a few good pat. He yips at you but doesn't move away. "Have you still not made up your mind about me yet? I know I took your daddy away from you so now you don't have him all to yourself anymore but didn't I give you extra treats this morning?"

Tannie's big eyes look up at you and then towards your bed. He then trots over to the edge where his doggie stairs are and uses them to climb up atop the bed. You stand up from your kneeled position and place your hands on your hips.

"Well, I guess you made this place your home huh?" You watch as the little dog spins three times in a circle before plopping down. "Alright, you're too cute to be fake mad at. Since you're here though, maybe you can help me."

You feel utterly stupid for what you're about to do next, yet that feeling doesn't stop you. "What do you think about this new set I got? It's my first one so I'm excited but it looks weird right?"

Tan huffs and stares at you.

"Yeah? It does, doesn't it? You know when I got this I was thinking maybe I could get into it...this whole lingerie thing. And it's sexy, no denying that, but as I told my friend Jimin. It's not meant for my bod–"

Your sentence is abruptly cut off when a pair of hands make their way around your hips. They stay atop your robe yet the burn of your boyfriend's fingers is still fiery hot.

When did he get out of the shower?

Taehyung stands behind you in a pair of silk pajama bottoms and nothing else. His bare chest presses lightly against your back and his wet hair falls messily around his face with a few strands covering his eyes. "Hi," he breathes in a husky tone, right next to your ear. It sends a whole trail of shivers up your spine. "What's not meant for your body, baby?"

In a ball of nervous energy, you move to tug the robe as closed as you can, forcing his fingers to loosen around your body. "Tae! I didn't hear you get out of the shower. I was just talking to Tannie and I-I'm gonna go get changed, now that the bathroom's free."

You'd make a beeline out your bedroom door if it weren't for the arm that snakes around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. "Do you have to change? Because I really, really don't want you to. As always I'll let you make your own decisions though..." Evilly, he sweeps your hair all to one side to expose the nape of your neck. He then places a kiss on the sensitive area; too soft, his lips are too soft.

You bite your moan back however, don't meet his question with a response. The thought of opening your robe and showing him the number underneath makes you crazy with arousal. You just wish you didn't have the pesky whisper that tells you that there's nothing to go crazy for after you do.

You're really not trying to be so hard on yourself but can you actually do this? The set is hot, sure, but maybe it was a mistake to g– "Oh Tae, fuck." You gasp when your boyfriend latches his mouth on the side of your neck, sucking on it lewdly. It never fails to send your head backward into his firm chest. Your eyes fall shut to bask in the pleasure. "You're way too good at this," you coo.

Taehyung slowly traces down the fabric of your robe, near the opening. It's a struggle for him not to pull the thin material open. "Can I see?" It's a plead.

You wet your lips and fiddle with the material yourself. "I-I don't know."

"Let me rephrase that." He folds his palms over your fingers and spins you both around so you're able to see each other's reflection in your full-length mirror. "Do you want me to see?" His deep, lusty eyes lock with yours in the glass. Taehyung brings his chin down to your shoulder, resting it there calmly while his grip tightens around you.

He gives you as long as you need to reply.

"...yes," you finally decide, dragging your robe down and off your shoulders. Taehyung groans and kisses your bare shoulder as you cautiously show yourself to him.

"Tan." His voice calls out, more gruff than when he was speaking with you moments ago. "Living room." The little dog's ears perk up and he flees off the bed and out the room.

"Did he really have to go?"

"He's our baby. He can't witness all the nasty things I'm about to do to you. He'll make himself comfy on the couch, don't worry." Your boyfriend runs his hands up your thighs before helping you remove your robe completely. "I haven't said it yet so I'm going to do it now. You look fucking hot in this, like a lucid dream. I don't deserve this, fuck."

"Really?"

His fingers sensually trace your curves, then the thin band of your lace panties. "Yeah, really," he hums and cups your mound. "This color on you is making me insane. I can't decide if I want to take it off or savor it on your body a little longer."

"Tae—mfph!" He doesn't let you finish, preferring to turn you around so he can press his lips on yours. He moves with passion, nipping your bottom lip to sneak his tongue inside. Your moans only grow louder when his grinds his hips into you.

With a gentle pull, Taehyung leads you to the edge of your bed. "Lay down for me, on your stomach."

You do as he says and slide onto your mattress, face down. All your senses tingle at once when you feel his body hovering over you. His legs straddle you from behind as his hands cling to the sheets on either side of you.

"Tae what are you doing?" Your senses heighten, your heart thumping at the inability to see him.

"This," he answers and brings his warm lips to the small of your back. The tiny jolt of surprise doesn't stop him from continuing to kiss up your spine and all the way up between your shoulder blades. He's never kissed you like this before. Your body arches off the bed from the newness and arousal pools between your thighs.

"This feels ni-nice." The broken moan spurs your boyfriend on. He kisses you the same way again, faster. Clearly, wherever your boyfriend's lips touch you, you like it tenfold.

Once he gets back to your shoulder blades Taehyung lifts his head up and unclasps your bra. He then flips you over, gives you a quick peck, and rips the now pesky material off your body.

"I love seeing this on you and I wanted to wait it out some more but I can't do it." He cups the swell of your breasts, squeezing them together while his thumbs fondle your perky nipples. "You look so, so beautiful and I need to make love to you now or I'm going to come in my pants like a teenager." He releases your breasts and mouths at the supple flesh, tongue licking across the peaks.

"Fuck," you moan and sink your fingers into his hair. "I need you too. Please."

Your panties are off before you know it, the cool air hitting your warm pussy. Taehyung spreads your thighs wide open and tells you to keep them there until he gets his own pants and underwear off. He's seconds from putting himself into you when he pauses.

"Can't skip over this can we?" He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb and lowers his head down to your center. "Not that you really need it seeing as you're soaked down here, but I'm a creature of habit." He proceeds to lick up your folds, teasing your clit at the same time.

"Oh, oh my god Tae!" You claw his hair harder and reflexively buck your hips into his mouth, drawing a deep groan from him.

"Shit!" He raises his face from between your thighs with lips already glistening with your arousal. "Maybe I can finish eating you out after I fuck you into the mattress."

You nod your head. "Okay, yeah sure, fuck me. I'm still on the pill."

Taehyung lifts both of your legs over his shoulders and rubs the tip of his cock up and down your entrance. You clench at the teasing. "You are literally going to be the end of me, baby." He thrusts himself all the way into you, bottoming out much quicker than other times.

"Fuuck," you both moan at the stretch. Taehyung's hips snap forward with vigor, his thick length being squeezed by your velvet walls with each push and pull.

"Goddamn, this pussy is too good for me. So hot and tight, shit! You're so beautiful you know that? Everything you are. That's why—it's why it hurt me so much when you asked if I thought you were sexy or boring last week."

Your nails dig into the sheets as you watch the veins protrude from his neck. His eyes, on the other hand, are laser-focused on you.

"Hurt....you?"

"Yes," he affirms, fucking into you faster with hard, controlled thrusts. "Hurt me so much because you're mine and I–fuck I'm gonna come soon!"

I never want you to question how I feel about you. And when you asked me those things, it made my head spin. Our relationship is not all about sex and I thought maybe I was making it seem like that. And now, seeing you in sexy red set gives me such a mindfuck but I don't want you to feel like it's just because of the lace."

"No, no not at all. I don't think any of that because you're perfect to me too Tae. Going out with my coworkers and having that conversation just triggered me. This is all still new to me....us."

"I know." Taehyung unexpectedly stops his movement to lower your legs from his shoulders. He then brings them around his mid-section which you gladly wrap around. "It's new to me too but we're just starting right?" Your hands are intertwined with his when he resumes his previous brutal pace.

"Right," you breathe, fingers gripping his firmer against the mattress "I'm-I'm gonna come baby. It's so close."

"Me too."

You both have your release at the same time, panting like crazy from the post-orgasmic bliss. Taehyung rides both your highs out, then pulls out of you slowly.

"Holy fuck." You're the first to speak. "That damn lingerie really did make our sex better."

"Better?" Taehyung squeaks out. "What do you mean better? Was it not as good before?"

"I'm kidding, however, I do think you were a lot more eager this time. What happened to the whole being able to last with a boner for eternity if you have to speech?"

He breaks out into a cute grin. "I guess I was bullshitting then, lesson learned. Also, even though the lingerie is hot we don't have to keep doing it...I mean if you want to–"

You shut him up with a kiss and snuggle into him. "Maybe we'll try it again. It was kinda fun. Either way, you're right, we don't need it because I love you."

"I love you more. Now how about I fulfill that promise earlier about eating you out?" He jerks back to look at you with a quirked brow.

"Taehyung....we were having a moment."

"Oh shit, sorry. We can keep snuggling, come here beautiful." He pulls you back into himself with a smile.

a/n: Hoping you enjoyed ☺ LMK your thoughts 💞

masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[strawbeerossi]

Silencing Spencer Reid

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer likes how you listen to him ramble about things that interest him. He also likes your method of telling him to shut up.

Content/Warnings: Reader is a little mean because she has a headache, Spencer ramblings, oral (f receiving), face sitting (duh), degradation, pet names (pretty boy)

Word Count: 1.1K

Kinktober Day Eleven: Facesitting

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

You liked listening to Spencer talk, something about his voice being calming to listen to. Listening to him ramble was like heaven, watching him get excited to tell you every bit of information that plagued his brain on one specific subject. Spencer was honestly grateful, liking the way you actually showed care to what he had to say and telling him your own thoughts. However there was another side of you that he liked.

“Spencer, honey, can you please just give me five minutes? I have a really bad headache.” you spoke as you were walking through your shared apartment, your boyfriend following behind you like a little puppy. “But you haven’t even heard the best part about this episode! I mean, you have no idea how crazy it is when he-” Spencer was cut off by the palm of your hand pressed against his mouth.  “I love you so much but you need to just.. Fuck, go sit on the couch for a minute.” You snapped. You knew you’d feel awful about it later but right now you were just frustrated. 

Spencer wasn’t negatively affected, instead a rush of blood rushing down to his cock. He was getting under your skin, just what he was intending on doing. All he needed now though was you to shut him up, to put him in his place. He’d been sexually frustrated all day and he wanted nothing more than to have your soaked cunt on his face, making a mess of his jaw while you used his tongue to get yourself off. The thought of your slick arousal on his tongue was enough to make him drool.

“But baby, don’t you wanna hear about my theories? I mean the show is so interesting and you know I’m passionate about this character.” He was rambling now, only blushing as you shot him a warning look, one that he was used to from the amount of times he attempted to test you. He knew the punishment would be severe but he didn’t care, he needed to taste your essence sooner rather than later. “Come on..” 

Whenever Spencer wasn’t getting the hint though, you were frowning. Now if your head wasn’t pounding, you would’ve realized what he was doing. Right now though, he looked like a brat who couldn’t seem to follow your damn directions. “Go lay down. Now.” You murmured, the male perking up at getting just what he wanted before scrambling off to the bedroom. You were joining him a few minutes later, already pulling your pants down your legs along with your panties. “Don’t get any ideas, brats don’t deserve to be touched or cum. You are servicing me tonight. That’s it.” The harshness of your voice had a whimper rip from his throat, his head nodding slowly. 

Contrary to most men, Spencer could spend hours lapping at your cunt. He enjoyed making you feel good, your fingers tangling in his hair while shoving his face deeper into your warmth. He could cum just from that alone. “I’m gonna sit on your face tonight. Got it, pretty boy?” Just from the look on his face, you could tell that he was eager to flick his tongue into your sweetness, having you rock your hips against his face solely to pleasure yourself. “Yes!” He was desperate, head lifting as his eyes were fixated on your bare lower half.

After getting your shirt off and throwing it on the ground along with the small pile of your other clothes. “You know, Spencer.. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted this.” You spoke in a low tone while facing him with a frown, body climbing onto the bed as you were crawling to get situated. With your knees on either side of Spencer’s face, you were glancing down at your boyfriend who had his usual doe eyes that were clouded over with arousal. “You need to listen better, you know. You shouldn’t upset me on purpose.”

Spencer didn’t have time to respond whenever he was face to face with your wet pussy, his hands coming up to hold your hips before gently tugging your lower half onto his mouth. 

His tongue was darting out to flick over your throbbing clit, your fingers tangling into his messy curls while you let your head fall forward with a soft breath. “Fuck, put that mouth to good use.” You spoke, the sinful sounds of suckling filling the room whenever he got the chance to take your bud into his mouth. When he’d pulled off with a pop sound filling the room, he didn't waste time to drag his tongue through your slit, giving himself a taste of what he was so desperate for. “Pretty boy, don’t keep me waiting.” You spoke, which he didn’t need a warning before his tongue was breaching your leaking sex. 

Pistoning his tongue into your sweet cunt, he relished in the feeling of your velvety walls constricting his tongue from the surprise of him getting right to work. He drank every ounce of arousal you gave him, eyes fluttering shut as his moans were muffling against your pussy. His hands were assisting you as you were rocking against the warm muscle working its magic, leaving you desperate for so much more. “Mmm, is this what you wanted? Me to ride that pretty face of yours? You could’ve asked, baby. You didn’t have to get under my skin and get yourself in trouble.” You tsked while glancing down at the fucked out face of your boyfriend underneath you. 

His vigor was making that familiar warmth in your stomach grow, knowing that you were close. Spencer had known your body by now, so as he knew you were close, he was focusing on your clit once more, sucking harshly as he had you letting out curses and sharp gasps as you were desperately rocking your hips against your partner’s face. “I’m gonna cum.” You whispered while both hands were roughly gripping his messy hair.

With a soft cry, it wasn’t long until your creamy arousal was flowing into his mouth, Spencer was eagerly licking up the sweetness as he was letting his head tilt back against the pillow with a deep groan. “Good job, pretty boy.” Your cooing caused a sheepish smile to spread across his face as he blushed.

“Go take a shower.” You hum, crawling off of his face while Spencer was pushing himself to sit up. His eyes were glossed over, his mouth and chin soaked, and his hair was all over the place from her fingers gripping and pulling it. “You look so pretty.” You cooed while making his blush deepen, drunk off of your pussy as he was slowly pushing himself to stand. “Can I please touch myself?” His voice was whiny, filled with need as he stared at you. 

“Nope. I told you, pretty boy, this is a punishment.”

[kamiversee]

So Obsessed With You ꨄ

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ Gojo Satoru couldn’t let you go, not when you were so close to getting off on his leg. But, perhaps it would've been better if you left instead of staying just to finish...

[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, smut, dirty talk, language, pet names, slight manhandling, Gojo's really cocky & has a thing for mocking the reader apparently.

[ { Paring } ] ➤ Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 7k

"Oh fuck-, S-Satoru wait," You moaned into the air as Gojo got carried away in kissing you. Your back was against his apartment door by this point and he had one of his legs in between yours, his hands on your hips and his lips all over your neck.

Gojo sucked, licked, and even nibbled all over you, his hands feeling all parts of your body as he did so. You felt him knead your ass in his grasp as his focus went just under your jaw, soft smacks of his tongue and lips against you filling the air.

“You said I could kiss you,” Gojo hums. His voice was so low, lower than you’d heard it in a while.

One of his hands slides up and you sigh when you feel his fingers run over your chest, gently groping you as his kisses trail back up. His eyes meet yours for less than a second before he steals your breath by crashing his lips into yours again.

“M-Mmh,” You hum, feeling as his tongue works the insides of your mouth and his leg rubs against your clothed sex, “T-This… This isn't just k-kissing,” You mumble against him.

Gojo moves to clasp your lower lip in between his teeth and as he gives your skin a slight tug, his eyes open and both of you make contact through a low-lidded gaze. “Should I stop?” He asks huskily.

His eyes were drowning in lust, his leg yet to stop the constant rub over your cunt. You were getting all too worked up over this and your breathing grew unstable, “Ha-ah… Y-Yeah, maybe…” You hum.

He tilts his head, “Maybe? You sound unsure, sweetheart.” His thigh suddenly angles a bit differently and presses up against your clit.

Your jaw drops, “S-Shit,” You whine.

“If you want me to stop then tell me to stop-”

“Don’t s-stop,” You breathe out, confused by what you want at this point, rolling your hips forward against his leg.

Gojo bites his lip, “We shouldn’t be doing this, y’know.”

“Then you stop,” Your voice was so light and airy already, simply over some kisses and the slightest touches.

“I won’t if you don’t tell me to.” He tells you.

You shake your head, “I s-should be… mmgh,” You fold over a bit as his leg rubs over you just right, “Should’ be leaving…” You manage out.

Gojo snickers, “Then leave, sweets.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and move to grab onto his arm, “Then s-stop… haah… stop-, mmh… moving your leg,” You moan.

He’s trying his best to control himself but… He hasn’t seen you like this in months. Gojo forgot how whiney and fidgety you get when you’re flustered and turned on. The sight aroused him like crazy.

“You’re so fuckin’ cute,” Gojo teases, “I might cum in my pants if you seriously get off on my leg right now.”

Your head flips up to him with a glare, “We shouldn’t be doing this. I-It was supposed to be one little k-kiss… mmmh…”

“When is it ever one little kiss, love?” He asks softly.

“I can’t stand you,” You breathe out.

“Mhm,” Gojo nods, “I know. But you know the second option for you if that’s the case.” You furrow your brows and he makes up for his lack of explanation, “You can pick my face or my lap, either way, if you can’t stand me then sit on me.”

You roll your eyes at him and move to straighten yourself up. Abruptly, his leg kneads up into your pussy and you release a very light moan, your eyes flickering for a moment, “O-Okay… fuck..."

"Okay... what? Do you actually want me to stop? Hm?" Gojo teased, tilting his head at you and giving you that stupid taunting look of his.

A slight groan leaves your lips and you just shake your head, "No," You gasp when he flexes his thigh for you, aiding your needy cunt in getting off, "Keep goin'... hah, I'm c-close, I think..."

Gojo narrows his eyes at you, "You think? The hell does that mean? Are you about to cum or not, love?"

Your head shakes. You're so confused by this point. Gojo only a few minutes ago told you he was obsessed with you and yet here you are humping his leg like you're in heat. It was embarrassing but somewhere deep down, or maybe not so deep down, you missed this-, you missed sex with Gojo.

And now more than ever were you aching for it. Why? Was something about Gojo Satoru being an obsessive freak turning you on? Did you want to dip into that dark area of his and find out how he expresses his obsession in bed?

"Jus' shut up and keep going," You huff out desperately, torso leaning forward as your head rests on him and your hips move over his leg.

The man scoffs, "You're so demanding,” Gojo teases as the hands placed on your hips continue to aid you in your grinding.

“Shut up,” You whine softly.

Gojo shifts a bit, inclining his head down ever so slightly just to put his lips to your ear, “Make me,” He challenges.

You groan and the hands you had clinging onto his shirt curl a bit as you grip onto him tighter, “You’re so annoying, shit.”

A playful smirk splits across his handsome face, “And you’re needy,” Gojo whispers into your ear, his voice making you let out a moan, “It’s cute y'know— watchin’ you get off on my thigh… s’this all you want though?”

“H-Hm?” You hum in confusion, back arching a bit as you rotate your hips for more friction.

“I can give you more,” Gojo suddenly offers, his breath hitting the shell of your ear as he talks in such a sensual manner, “I can give you my cock,” He tells you, voice dipping down into something lower and almost demanding.

You gulp and lift your head a bit, turning to meet his gaze and noticing your lips are madly close to one another, “Satoru,” You whine, frowning as you mentally try to figure out what it is you want.

He tilts his head and his gaze is down on your lips in an instant, a hungry glint embedded into his eyes, “Yes?”

“I’m supposed to b-be leaving” You mumble. The heat radiating off his body, pulsing in between your legs, flushing your face-, all of it was too much.

Gojo snickers but his grip tightens on your hips, almost in a way that tells you he’s not letting you go anywhere. “Then leave,” He hums, “But I’m just sayin’… Y’know, we could fuck one last time.”

There's this clench he feels over his thigh, the sensation making him smirk as he realizes it was your cunt reacting to his words.

Shaking your head, “W-We shouldn’t,” You sigh.

He shrugs, “But we can.”

Gojo’s leaning in closer to you, his lips ghosting over yours and god the scent of his cologne is dizzying, this light waft of mint hitting your skin as he parts his lips. You’re staring down at them, nearly melting into his nonexistent touch.

“S-Satoru,” You whisper again.

“One more time,” He pleads, “That’s all I ask.”

Steadily, your eyes lift to him and you notice he’s looking directly into your gaze. It was so intimate, so longing, so needy. Oh screw what your mind and maybe your heart wants, your body wanted him more than anything.

Hence why you’re nodding slightly and leaning into him, your lips connecting with one other in one quick motion.

The second Gojo’s lips are on yours, he’s lost his mind again— large hands sliding up to your waist, pushing you back off his leg and up against the wall. His teeth part your lips and his tongue pushes in, he was devouring you.

His lips were plush, soft like clouds, and you just melted against him like always. The hands on your waist slipped down in one swift movement, only to jerk up but under your shirt and feel your skin beneath his smooth skin.

“I’ll make you feel so good, love,” He breathes into your mouth, to which you smile against his lips, arms rising to wrap around his neck and pull him impossibly closer.

One of your hands trailed up a little, fingertips grazing his undercut and making him groan into your mouth.

Then, you smirked, “You’re so sensitive, ‘Toru,” You point out against him, fingers dipping down to his nape and twirling over his skin just to hear the way he pants lightly against you.

“M’weak for you,” He mumbles, both of you messily making out and smiling against each other like a pair of fools unknowingly in love with each other in such a twisted way. “So weak,” He whispers.

This time you’re pushing your tongue into his mouth and your body lifts a bit as you stand on your tippy toes, arms swiftly wrapping around his neck in full whilst the two of you tilt your head in opposing directions to gain more access to each other’s mouth.

You were hot, he was hot-, both of your bodies were heating up and the kissing became more and more passionate-, almost loving. Gojo weighs himself forward a bit and your entire backside is smushed against the wall of his apartment before your leg brushes against his crotch and you feel the hefty bulge resting there.

Your lips pry from his with a heavy smack echoing into the air, both of your mouths left open as your eyes peel open and you two make eye contact again.

Tension. There was so much tension between your gazes. Suddenly, you’re nodding a little, “One more time?”

He flashes a half-smile, “One more time.” He repeats in agreement.

A final and quick kiss is shared between you two before he pulls your shirt up over your head and you’re trying to tug at his. It seems he had no plans on moving from this very spot so, in a way, you already knew he was about to fuck you against the wall.

Were you complaining? Of course not, especially not when it all happens so fast. First, he’s undressing you and caressing your body tenderly. Then he’s tugging your bra off just to grab ahold of your body, spin you around, and proceed to push you face-first against the wall.

Gojo’s in your ear as your cheek presses into the cold structure, “Spread your legs,” He orders, voice husk.

There’s a chill that runs down your spine but that’s okay, you didn’t care— you need this-, need him. Knowing he was obsessed with you just made the entire interaction all the more better for you.

Which is why you’re taking it a step further and ridding yourself of all clothing from the waist down, leaving yourself standing naked and drenched for him.

He doesn’t even try to hold in the groan that leaves his throat as he settles his eyes on every inch of your unclothed body. “Fuck-, I love you,” Gojo suddenly murmurs, “Yeah, I love you.” He blindly repeats.

You snicker a little and then move, pressing your hands up against the wall as you step back a little, legs parting and back shifting into this slutty arch for him.

Gojo nods, unknowingly smiling, “Mhm, tha’s good,” He breathes.

It takes a second for him, as if he were processing this entire situation-- he was really about to have sex with you again. Right here, right now. This was real, you were real.

After his little mental moment, he's moving again and you don't even see as he messily strips himself, the most you acknowledge is the feeling of his hands on your hips again, fingers digging into your skin, and the sudden nudge of his flushed tip against your folds.

He wasn't even thinking about foreplay, your grinding on his legs should've been enough, right?

Yeah, not exactly because despite your cunt being a dripping mess and slicking up his cock as he shallowly rubs himself in between your folds just to tease you, when Gojo starts easing his dick inside you your jaw drops and you seem to have forgotten how big he was.

Angling a hand back, your fingers graze his chest while a staggered gasp leaves your throat, "S-Satoru wait, fuck."

Gojo smiles and tilts his head, one hand moving to grab ahold of the arm you brought back, "What? Why're you pushin' me away?"

You tried to respond but fuck-, his cock was slipping into you inch by inch by inch. Gojo's face is flushed already, his eyes down on how your cunt parts just to take him. He was getting dizzy at the feeling of your gummy walls clenching around his length, a slight groan leaving him.

He breathes out your name before leaning his torso forward, lips moving to your ear, "Relax, sweetheart," He whispers to you softly.

You think you got butterflies at the sound of his words as if he wasn't in the process of splitting you open.

Gojo's breath hitches, "F-Fuck, you gotta relax, you're fuckin'... squeezin' the hell outta' me," He whines, hands settling on your hips again as he angles his head down to your neck and kisses you, "Relax, please."

His voice was so soft and caring with you, the sound and his gesture of kissing you so lovingly making your heart flutter and your body ease up. Gojo's pushing in and in and in until he couldn't anymore, the tip of his cock just nuzzled against your sweet spot without even moving yet.

Once he's there, Gojo stills for a moment, simply relishing your warmth and letting out these heavy breaths against your skin. Your pussy was so warm and wet-, no-, soaked. Did you really get this turned on by him kissing you? Does his lips drive you this crazy?

Open-mouthed kisses are suddenly being pressed against the side of your neck and your lashes flutter a bit as Gojo begins to draw his hips back and then eases his cock in and out at a slow and tender pace.

Then, his lips reach just under your ear, "Did you forget how to take me or somethin'?" He teases.

You could feel him smiling a bit and you scoff, "N-No... mmgh, you can... hahh, you can g-go faster 'Toru," You tell him, to which he chuckles.

"You're already stuttering though," Gojo snickers, his pelvis pressing flush against your ass as his length bottoms you out, again making your eyes flicker.

"T-That's cause you-," A moan leaves your lips as Gojo rolls his hips into you slowly, reaching impossibly deeper, "Fuuck, why're you s-so... ahh..."

Gojo tilts his head, "So what, hm?"

"Deep," You whine, moving a hand to try and push him away again.

He finds it cute how you were trying to get him to let up on you when he wasn't even moving anywhere remotely fast— Gojo was doing nothing more than stroking your insides at such a mellow pace, caressing your cunt with his cock and forcing you to feel every inch and vein that trailed along his shaft.

So, he laughs, "I can go deeper," Gojo whispers, watching the way your eyes widen and you shake your head a little.

"You're deep enough," You hum out against the wall.

He nods, "Alright then, I can at least go faster now, right?"

"Mhmm," You agree, moving your hands away from him and back to the wall.

There's one last chuckle that leaves Gojo before he's pulling his hips back and then thrusting his cock in harshly once, twice, three times-, fuck he was working up a mean pace within seconds.

Gojo leans his face away from your neck so that he can look down at his actions, hands gripping onto your hips as he watches his shaft disappear inside you only to reappear within a second covered in you. The sight of your cunt leaving a messy coat of slick around his cock makes him bite his lower lip.

And it was loud too, wet sounds of your pussy urging him deeper in with his every thrust made Gojo’s head spin. You told him he was reaching too deep and yet your cunt was gripping and tugging him in such a way that told him the opposite.

“Hahh, fuck,” Gojo breathes out before his hips pick up in speed. Thrust after thrust after thrust, you began to unapologetically moan with every one.

Whatever Gojo may have lacked in thickness, his fucking inches made up for it— hell, you don’t even know if he was pushing his cock all the way in each time he knocked into you. The most you could tell was that you were full of him and he was reaching all the right spots with no problem.

The hands placed on your hips suddenly pull you back to meet a harsh thrust, the abrupt jerk of your body causing him to reach deep inside you.

Your jaw drops, eyes widen, and a broken moan pours out your mouth, breath hot against the wall as Gojo continues behind you. You thought it was bad already as his thrusting turned into pounding, his heavy balls smacking against you as his pace picked up.

“Satoru-, hhngh… f-fuck,” You moaned, nails scraping against the wall in front of you as you tried to steady yourself.

“Fuck,” Gojo curses, head tossing back, “I forgot how loud you get,” He says with a grin on his face.

That doesn’t deter the moans from spilling out your mouth, “Hahh, ahh, m-mmgh,” You think you wanted to say something but you’re not sure what by this point.

The man suddenly leans forward again, aggressively stuffing every inch of his cock into you, tip mashing into the hilt of your cunt as his lips near your ear, “Shhh, do you want my neighbors to hear you?”

How could he ask you such a thing with himself buried all the way in? Your legs quaked a bit and you nearly fell over because of how far his dick reached. How did you ever handle this man before?

So when yet another moan exits the very back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes, Gojo only smiles.

“Fine then, be fuckin’ loud,” He scoffs as he pulls his hips back. Then, his voice drops even lower as he fucks you right into the wall, “Let ‘em hear what a slut you are f’me,” Gojo whispers.

That makes your back arch even more, almost in a way that said you wanted to escape his harsh thrusts. There was drool escaping the corner of your mouth before you even rendered it, Gojo’s twitching cock hitting this spot inside you that simply made your mind go blank.

Your eyes crossed a little as the hands on your hips continued to tug your body back to meet his harsh thrusts, dick slipping in and out and in and out-, he filled you up so perfectly.

But it certainly didn’t help that Gojo leaned forward and to your ear, one hand leaving your hip and moving to your abdomen to feel the nudge of his cock every time he thrust in.

The feeling makes him smile, “Ohh, m’really deep in there aren’t I?” Gojo teases, tipping away from your ear to get a look at your face. Your eyes were closed and you were simply taking him as best you could, to which he scoffs and hums out your name, “Open your eyes ‘nd look at me while I fuck you,”

The sudden command makes your eyes flutter open and his face is so close. Your vision takes a second to focus on his face as Gojo’s thrusts grow harder, cockhead beating into you on purpose to make things difficult.

“S-Satoru,” You let out a breathy whine of his name, the sound making him smile before he praises you.

“Mhm, that’s my girl,” Gojo murmurs, “Jus’ keep those eyes on me, okay?”

Your brows twist up in a pleasurable way and you pant, “Hahh… ‘Toru… t-too fast,” You mumble out.

“Hm?” He hums, tilting his head innocently, “I’m going too fast?”

Your head nods desperately, “Uhuh, s-slow down… fuuck, please?”

Gojo snickers and his pace doesn’t waver, if anything, it grows harsher, more needy, and almost even feral. His thoughts were waning. How could he possibly slow down? “Jus’ take it,” He says playfully, putting on a pout to mock your expression.

Despite the sexy moans leaving you, a scowl takes over your face as you maintain eye contact with him. “I s-shouldn’t even-, mmgh… b-be here,” You mumble out to him.

The feeling of Gojo’s hand sliding down makes you tense up and your cunt clamps around his throbbing cock at the faint movement of his. He lets out a hiss and his face twists up, “Fuck-, d-don’t squeeze me like that, c’mon,” He huffs out.

You’re frowning, “…S’Your fault,” You moan out, “M-Making feel like-, hhngh-, t-this, ahh…”

Gojo scoffs and then rolls his eyes, hips easing back and dick nearly slipping out of you, “You talk so much y’know,” He points out.

“You’re one t-to talk,” You reply, your eyes going wide as he shoves every inch of himself back in with no warning.

That hand of his that was on your abdomen slides further down and you feel your legs tremble a bit as his fingertips find your clit and messily swat over the bud in sync with his thrusts.

Your fingers curled against the wall, the need to grab something stronger than ever. His cock was practically making out with your cervix, hips bucking into you at such a rough pace that had you gasping for air.

“Y’know,” Gojo chuckles, lengthy fingers rolling circles around your clit, “We’re supposed to be fucking, not arguing.” He comments.

You groan and nearly fall over against the wall as both his cock and fingers become too much for you, “S-Satoru-, fuck-,” You gasp.

“Huh? Did ya’ wanna say somethin’?” Gojo taunts as he purposefully drags his fingertips around your sensitive bud in such a teasingly pleasurable way.

Just as he works on his hand movements, his dick is simply drilling into your sopping hole, your slick making an entire mess of both him and yourself. You were leaking all over his cock and you could even feel your inner thighs wet up as his thrusts grew more pinpointed and calculated.

At one point, Gojo shifts ever so slightly and his tip fucks somewhere overwhelmingly good inside you, “O-Oh-,” Your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back, “T-Too deep, fuuck, s’too deep ‘Toru,” You whined.

Gojo grunts but doesn’t stop his thrusts, “What do you mean I’m too deep?” He asks, loud and lewd squelches of your pussy filling the air and making him snicker, “Didn’t you say that last time?”

Halfway out of it, “Uhuh,” You nodded.

“Exactly so,” Gojo leans to your ear again and his fingers pinch your clit, “You can take it.”

Another groan pours out of your mouth and you had drool running down your jaw and dripping off your chin. His voice was so low and it drove you crazy, the sounds of his grunts and groans flowing into your ear.

“Messy girl,” Gojo suddenly commented, his eyes downward as he feels and sees the way you suddenly came around his cock, “Didn’t even tell me you were cumming, sweets,” He taunts, smirking, “Do I make you feel that good?”

Yet again, you’re just nodding along to his words with this fucked out expression on your face, “Uhuh, f-feels s’good ‘Toru,” You whined, “B-But… m-mmgh, y-you couldn’t take me-, nngh, t-to your room?”

Gojo scoffs and his thrusts slow down a little just so he could talk into your ear once more, “No, no I couldn’t… fuck-, take… hah, take you to my room,” He stammers out, feeling as you squeeze and squeeze around him every time he spoke. “You’re actin’ like you didn’t wanna get fucked against the wall anyway,” He points out in almost one breath, lips pushing against your ear, “You’re jus’ as needy as me, sweets.”

“Mmmh, hnngh… ah,” You moaned helplessly, “M’not… n-needy,” Your words came out in such a desperate and whiny way but you were too into it to care anymore. “You’re j-just….” Your words come out in a low murmur and he misses what you say.

Gojo tilts his head and his thrusts slow to a sudden stop, his cock resting comfortably inside your warmth, “Hahh, what?” He asks. You whine a little and murmur it out once more but he seems to get a bit annoyed, “C’mon, speak up ‘nd stop mumblin’.”

“Too fuckin’ deep Satoru-,” You finally manage out a bit louder, “C-Can feel you all t-the way… in,” You babble thoughtlessly.

“Yeahh, I know, I know m’deep sweetheart,” Gojo coos before gently easing his hips back, “But you like me that way,” He says with a slight scoff before he’s ramming his dick into you again, quite literally fucking the air out your lungs whilst he picks back up on that animalistic pace of his.

Gojo could care less how much you complain, he knows how far inside you he is, he can feel it. The way your pussy sucks him all the way in, the base of his cock flush with your cunt after each thrust— Gojo knows he’s filling you up but how is he expected to care when you just suck and squeeze him in so nicely?

Your cunt was too snug, too tight, too sloppy for him to care about your little whines and pleas. You’ve got his cock smothered in cum and you expect him to cater to your cries of slowing down or not pushing all the way in? 

Gojo can’t help but scoff and suddenly blurt out an intrusive thought of his, “Wonder’ what Choso would think if he saw you like this— cummin’ all over my cock instead of his,” He hums almost casually.

The way your plush walls grip onto him nearly leads him to empty his balls into you as it chokes a groan out of the back of his throat. 

“S-Shiit, almost made m-me cum, sweets,” Gojo chuckles lightly as his eyes flicker.

You shake your head in a disapproving manner, “D-Don’t fuckin’… bring him up,” You breathe out.

Gojo tilts his head, “Hm? Why not?” He questions as his cock jerks in and in and in, blue eyes locked on your facial expression as he smirks at the way your eyes roll back and back and back with his movements.

Your jaw is simply slack and you pant, “Ha-ahh… nngh, mmh… J-Just-, hhngh, s-stop talking-,” You mewl out, eyes watering at his movements.

Gojo slips his length almost out before teasing your hole with his tip, glancing down at his actions and chuckling at the constant twitch of your cunt, “Your pussy’s tellin’ me to keep talkin’ though…”

You groan, “Shut up.”

“Oh please, you’ll be alright…” Gojo argues back to you before easing his cock in slower this time. You can just feel his every throbbing vein as he inches in and moves to your ear just to whisper, “S’not like he’ll know.”

Your hips begin to move back to meet his motions and Gojo’s taken by surprise. He knew he didn’t need to be concerned with your earlier cries, Gojo knows you know how to take dick.

So, the two of you get quiet for a minute as things slow. His thrusts are shallower, almost like he just wants to marinate in your cunt for a while, feel you twitch as his dick throbs inside you. His breath is against your ear all over again and he soon wraps both his arms around you.

Then, once you’re in his grasp, his pace is slow to speed up again. But this time you’re not whining through it. Instead, breathy and quiet moans spill from your wet lips, and all you could focus on was the sinful sounds of sex filling the entirety of the apartment.

After which, it was Gojo’s voice yet again you’re focusing on, “…Maybe you should jus’ stay with me,” He offers.

“H-Huh?” You hum cluelessly.

His dripping tip presses into your sweet spot once more, “You heard me.”

You let off a whine and your face scrunches up a little, “Y-You wanna talk about this-, nngh, now?”

“Yeah,” Gojo chuckles, his voice low in a whisper, “Yeah I wanna talk about this when I’m balls deep inside you. When else should I say somethin’?”

You scoff at his way of wording things and your cunt is just milking his cock at this point, “W-What about… mmh, C-Choso-“

“You can see him tomorrow,” Gojo groans, “Let me have you for the rest of today, sweets.”

A slight chuckle escapes you, “T-The rest of today?”

His thrusts have groan tender, slow but hard strokes given to your pussy as the conversation continues, “Yeah. I wanna fuck you all night,” He explains.

“Mmmgh,” You hum at the thought, “‘Toru…”

“Feel’ you milk my cock for hours,” Gojo whispers into your ear, voice sensual and seductive with you despite him being buried so many inches inside you.

Your eyes just barely meet his and you see how serious he is, “B-But-,”

“How many positions do you think I can put you in before the night is over?” He cuts off, face inching closer to yours as his movements come to a stop and he has you keeping his cock warm yet again, “Hm?”

You manage to catch your breath due to the slight break he’s giving you, “Hah… I-I dunno,”

Gojo tips his head to the side and his lips near yours, “Maybe I’ll fuck you in every inch of this apartment so when you’re gone I’ll have that memory…”

Oh he’s just rambling at this point but you’re not complaining. If anything, your cunt squeezes around his shaft for the nth time since he’s been inside you.

“Shit, y’like that?” Gojo chuckles, “We’ll start with the living room after this-, fuuck…” He groans, feeling the way you get tighter and tighter with his every word, “I’ll have the couch soaked by the time I’m done with you…” He explains.

Your brows furrow, “That’s gonna… mgh, be so messy…”

“Who cares if it’s messy?” Gojo scoffs, rolling his hips into you in slow motion just to get some kind of movement again.

Your eyes roll back yet again and he watches closely, smiling at the effect his cock has on you.

“Uhuh,” Gojo nods, his eyes practically having hearts in them with how enamored he was by you, “Then the kitchen-, I gotta bend you over the counter and feel you drip all over my fuckin’ cock,” He explains.

Damn the way you begin to experience another orgasm at such a perfect time, the feeling making Gojo’s smile deepen.

“Yeah? You really like the sound of that huh?” He teases, biting his lip afterward. “What else? Hm? Maybe I can fuck your throat in the shower,” His suggestion makes your face twist up and you shake your head with a cute little whine leaving you.

“Why?” You ask, the question completely thoughtless as you’re too focused on his member shallowly easing in and out of you just barely.

“Why?” Gojo mocks you, “Why not?”

“M-Mmgh…” You grumble out, your mind growing hazy as the tantalizing roll of Gojo’s hips into you distracts your thoughts.

Then his voice just follows again, “Oh and I definitely want you ridin’ me in Suguru’s room. Gotta get payback for that one time.” He tells you, cock twitching inside your cunt at the thought.

“T-That’s so… hahh… m-mean, ‘Toru,” Your voice comes out in a mumble he finds cute.

Scoffing, “He’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Gojo shrugs off. Then his pace is picking up again, from shallow and slow strokes to a regular speed, his abs tensing as his orgasm approaches.

You sigh and begin to play along with his little fantasy, “Okay… w-well what about-, mmh, your room?”

“In my room?” Gojo repeats, his hips snapping into you suddenly. The fact that you’re considering what he was saying made him lose his mind a little, “Oh I’m not fuckin’ you in there.”

You frown and a single tear falls from your eye as he starts rutting into you again, slight whimpers heard exiting your throat.

“Heh, you look disappointed,” Gojo teases, “Don’t worry, in my room we’re takin’ things slow,” He tells you, voice low in a whisper again, “I’m putting you on my mouth for a while.”

You’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing his tongue so you’re left wondering what that’d be like, how messy of an eater Gojo probably is, how he’d do nothing but talk and talk and talk-

“Yeah, ‘n then my fingers,” Gojo cuts off your thought process, “I know how much you love ‘em,” He points out.

You release a fucked-out little laugh, “Mhm, and after?”

“After that?” Gojo sighs, leaning back and parting his legs a bit more before sliding his hands to hold your hips as he fucks his lengthy cock into you, “Hm…. I’ll make love to you,” He says.

Your jaw drops and you moan so beautifully, his eyes all over your face against the wall as he loses that slow pace of his and returns to the rough one.

“I’m gonna treat you carefully so you don't break,” Gojo explains, despite the current and constant shove of his cock into your sopping pussy— you were making such a mess.

“H-Hnngh, hahh, ah… W-What about-, nngh… now?” You cry out in question.

He tilts his head, white hairs sticking to his forehead as sweat slicks along his body, “Oh, what about now? Nah, right now I’m in the mood of splitting you open— you look hot in tears,” Gojo chuckles, his voice wavering ever so slightly.

He was seconds away from spilling into you but he somehow managed to hold himself back long enough.

“Plus, the shake in your legs feeds my ego,” He snickers, cockhead drilling into your filthy cunt so perfectly.

So much so that you’re blurting things out without thinking as he hits that one spot over and over, “Fuuuck, right there… mmmmgh-, I love your cock-, ohmygod…” You whine out mindlessly.

His hips stutter and Gojo chokes out a groan, “F-Fuck-, what?”

You shake your head and move a hand to your mouth, refusing to repeat that.

His brows tense and his pace is ruthless with you, senselessly pounding you into the wall as he leans closer, “Move your hand,” Gojo orders, his voice lower than before. 

Your hand drops and you moan as he questions you further, “What the fuck did you just say?” He pants, “You love my what?”

The last thing you wanted to do was say that again. It was unlike you but, you were far too out of it to care, “Y-Your cock, mmh,”  You hum out softly.

“Yeah?” Gojo whines and it goes straight to your cunt. He almost came inside you, “You love my cock?” He repeats, to which you nod, “Fuckin’ sluuut. Of course you love my cock, I already knew that.”

That ego of his makes you send him a scowl, even with the constant moans leaving you and the harsh slap of his pelvis to your ass.

“I mean, you’ve been makin’ a mess on my floor ever since I hit right…” Gojo shifts ever so slightly and urges his dick in somewhere specific, “There, so… I already knew that, sweets.”

You’ve lost count of how many times you came on him or how many times your jaw has gone slack but both happen again— face twisting up, eyes rolling back, and drool dripping off your chin.

“You’re so cute when you’re all fucked out,” Gojo says, smiling at you. Another moan is heard as you make eye contact with him and he decides to tease you, “Look, I bet you can’t even say my name properly.”

Scowling, “Fuck you,” You breathe out, to which he keeps knocking into that mushy spot inside you, “‘T-Toru,” You moan his nickname and it makes his smile widen.

“Aww, c’mon, say the whole thing,” Gojo teases, “Sa-tor-u,” He emphasizes each syllable with a thrust and you think you’re about to fall over completely, “C’mon, you can do it.”

“S’toru,” You slur out, tears dripping from your eyes.

Gojo pouts, “Mmmh, close but not quite, try again.”

“H-Hahhh, Satoru, f-fu-uck…” You finally manage out.

His smile is so sexy while he continues, “Shit… you’re so hot-, fuckin’ perfect,” Gojo groans before tossing his head back.

Again and again and again he buries his inches inside of you. How long has it been? How is he even still going? You don’t know, nor do you have the mental capacity to think about that right now.

Your own slick is dripping down your legs and you wouldn’t even be standing up straight without his hands gripping onto your hips tight enough to leave marks, “F-Feels… nngh-, s’good, aangh,” You moan within your cockdrunk stupor.

“Yeahhhh?” Gojo chuckles, “Who’s makin’ you feel good, huh?” He asks, head tipping down into place to watch you answer him.

“Y-You, Satoru… mmh,” You hum, eyes on the verge of closing.

There’s a constant drip onto the floor below as Gojo bottoms you out, finding himself fucked out in the same manner as you. “Uhuhh, fuuuuck. I love the way you moan my name,” He breathes out before leaning in toward you, “Kiss me.” He orders.

Just barely do you angle your head back and he inches closer, cock beating into you and scrambling your insides so heavily as he messily presses his lips to yours.

A sloppy kiss is shared between the two of you and his thrusts begin to match that as he approaches his high. Gojo’s tongue is slithering into your mouth and he’s inhaling your moans and whines in such an eager way.

“Mhm, atta’ girl,” Gojo whispers just as his lips pry away from yours. Then you watch tears gloss over his eyes as he whines-, almost whimpers, “F-Fuck, m’about to cum…”

There’s a filthy string of saliva hanging from his lips that connects to yours and both of you are gazing into each other's eyes— watching how fucked out both of you are. 

After a minute, Gojo’s whispering, “Can I-“

You just nod and whisper back before he even finishes, “Cum inside me, ‘Toru.”

And hell, he’s fucking his orgasm into you just as the words leave your lips. Gojo’s quietly whimpering against your lips as he does, his face flushed, pupils blown out, and pants pouring from his mouth as he does so.

Both of you were hot and sweaty and it’s not until he’s done that his hips stop moving and he groans in a pornographic manner.

You think your voice is gone and you can hardly imagine doing anything more than what just occurred. Any longer like that and you might’ve squirted-

“I love you,” Gojo suddenly breathes out, dick still inside you. Then he leans in and kisses you softly before saying it again, “I love you so much.”

You meet his hazy blue eyes, your pupils unknowingly dilated as you whisper to him, “Mhm, I love you too, ‘Toru.”

He choked and his brows furrowed, “W-What?”

Not even giving him a second to process, you mindlessly kiss him again but notice he’s frozen. A soft lick to his lips is felt and he blinks a few times.

“Y-You what?” Gojo questions.

Again, you shut him up with a kiss but inside his mouth, you’re mumbling, “I love you.”

His hands slip up to your waist and the two of you are messily making out. Gojo’s fingers curl into your skin and he’s not letting you go now-, not ever.

Fuck leaving him tomorrow. Fuck the consequences that’ll come from this. Gojo Satoru won’t let you go after saying those three words to him.

Hence why he’s devouring your lips all over again before his cock slips out of you. Then, in one haste movement, he’s turning you around to face him, lifting you up, and moving to make out with you in a needy manner.

“Yeahh,” Gojo breathes into your mouth, “M’never letting you go.”

“S-Satoru,” You stammer out, “I-“

“Shut up,” Gojo cuts off, “Fuck Choso. Fuck whatever you feel for him,” He blurts out. Oh he’s lost it, “You’re staying here-, staying with me. Fuck anything and everything else-, fuck Sukuna…” The last part mumbled under his breath but you don’t miss it.

“W-What?” You whine, brows furrowing.

Gojo shakes his head and starts carrying you off and toward the living room, “Don’t worry about it, sweets,” He says. His tone is starting to worry you a little but your mind isn’t yet all the way there, “It’s just you and me now… and forever, okay?”

You blink.

What the hell did you just do? Maybe...

Maybe you should've just left instead of giving in to temptation.

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[colourstreakgryffin]

you know why i'm here, love.

headcanons with Alastor and a Female Rarity-Like! Reader. I'M ON MY KNEES.

love ya :3

Letssss gooooo! Al and his drama queen! I’ve been thinking about this for so long. Love you too! Thank you soooo muccchh! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🥰😍🥹

Alastor- Crystal Heart

Alastor’s a man who’s big into fashion and appearing appealing so doesn’t it make sense his dream woman is a fashionista

Not even just a fashionista but a talented, original fashionista with her own lines of boutique stores and fashion lines. You’re not an Overlord but you may as well be. You’re the Queen of Fashion in the Pride Ring and the Queen of Alastor’s heart

Most of the Hazbin Hotel staff find you unbearable, on the surface. You’re kinda loud, appearance-driven, almost too vain, very prissy and adamant on staying clean and perfect but Alastor loves these behaviours. He knows you’re more than a pretty face but he doesn’t mind you maintaining your poise and grace in your own way

Alastor finds your light blue telekinetic magic interesting. Your magic is the primary reason you can get out so much out under such little time. Your magical touch manipulates and smoothly moves around limitless amounts of items and whilst you work, diligent and determined, you can also bring Alastor over to give him his required morning kiss

Alastor likes your accent. You have a Mid-Atlantic accent, it makes your lady flare glow even more and he likes that you and him both clash and mesh at the same time

Alastor joins you on your gemstone hunting anytime you need it, acting as your muscles to pull your wagon around effortlessly, this mf hella strong, so you don’t have to. You’re too sophisticated and classy to pull a carriage around. It may stain your gorgeous skin

If it’s not obvious, Al is kinda a simp for you but you’re a bigger simp for him

Alastor loves it that you design his coats. You make him look fashionable and he won’t ever go to any other tailor nor designer. Nobody matches your spark and he feels proud to be wearing an outfit you designed for him. He looks magnificent! Doesn’t he?

Alastor is that lovely, caring gentleman you’ve always dreamed about and when you’re around the man you like; you’re giddy, giggly and flustered. This is how you, the Pride Ring’s own lady of fashion, behaves around Alastor. Charmed, blushy and nervous about messing up, all whilst trying your damn best to not get too fangirly-like

Yeah… your romantic admiration devolves into full-blown fangirling and Alastor does not mind it at all. His girlfriend being his biggest cheerleader is all he could ask for

Alastor is the gentleman you’ve always wanted, you’re the lady Alastor has always wanted. It’s a win-win for both of you

Alastor absolutely loves the way you defend him like he’s a little deer. The way you loudly yelled you’d fight anybody for even touching him, despite the fact you’re such a lady and much prefer fashion. It makes his undead heart fly off to Heaven

Alastor knew the moment he saw you in the most wacky and unorganised mess of a dress he’s ever seen, pretty usually neatly styled and curled hair messed up and eyes twitching that you’re simply perfect and when you responded to Angel Dust asking about you with

“My emotions, darling! Stress couture!” He also knew right away that he is going to put a ring on your finger and make you his for good. You’re absolutely everything that both drives him crazy and makes him feel all the more appreciated

You’re the biggest drama queen in Hell, long outdoing Angel Dust, you whine and worry about the smallest things; you lost your diamond-encrusted ribbon? You’re laying on the velvet couch you summoned and is currently weeping for a man Alastor to save you. You’ve been unable to brush your hair more than hundred times before bed? You’re going to bed sobbing in disgust at your messy hair. You forgot to pack plates for the Hotel picnic? Where’s the dramatic fall chair?

Alastor loves your little sister, she is precious. A charming sweetie belle and he is happy to babysit for you if you need it but he notices how you’re able to balance caring for your little sister and your intense work spectacularly. It’s so impressive, it adds to the list of things Alastor loves about you

Alastor cannot look at you in any style of a beautiful dress without hiding in the corner and mentally dying. That’s how much he finds you attractive, seeing you in a gorgeous dress will send him to double Hell

Alastor is getting a hang of your pet cat, Opal. She isn’t the nicest, she is even irritable to you but he is going to keep trying to befriend your pet so you feel even more inclined to him. Look at him, he’s bonding with your feisty vicious Hell cat! Aren’t you proud of him?

Alastor isn’t use to people being so… well, generous to him. You’re so generous, even when it seems that you’re just shallow and egocentric. You care about your looks and proclaim being beautiful is your whole thing but you care immensely about everybody else, you’re a considerate, loving person with a big sister vibe to all and you’re a open, dedicated girlfriend to Alastor. You give up the most expensive and valuable items to opportunities, all for anybody else to enjoy, even if you wanted them so bad

You’re just that much of a sweetheart… it is one of the main things that drew Alastor to you. You’re innocent, you’re quite angelic for a Sinner demon

Of course, you’re in Hell because your pride, greed and vanity is so high but you’re barely a bad person. You’re more of a misguided lady of looks and Alastor, whilst being the worst person you could ever meet and date, will always protect you from Hell

Alastor gifts you all kinds of expensive gemstone jewellery to accessorises. That dark purple diamond-shaped gemstone golden-branded necklace of yours? That’s from Al. Those nice pair of shiny emerald stud earrings, yep, right from Alastor. The rose gold-detailed engagement ring now on your ring finger, delivered at your doorstep by Al himself

Alastor will help you with your work when he can, he’ll dress you in designs meant for you to wear and he’ll even help run a fashion show. He’s like your manager in an odd but cute way, he oversees your models and he announces the show himself, through his signature microphone. Many are surprised by Alastor ‘working’ for you but he isn’t ashamed to admit that his girlfriend made this fashion line and lead you out onto the stage after it’s over, so you can be admired by the crowd

You and Alastor throwing ‘darling’ at each other for fun go brrrrr~!

Alastor knows you don’t like getting dirty or wet or messy so he’ll pick you up, the moment you two encounter something gross. He’ll carry you over it. As a gentleman, he must keep you safe and since you’re specifically his lady, you let him do it. Giggling all lovestruck and like a cute happy teenage girl with her longtime crush, but situations like these always ends with Alastor happy you’re happy and you happy that you’re so close to your boyfriend like this

“Darling. Tell me all about the sports history exhibition with your friend? Was it fancy? Ooh. How about a great piece for fashion inspiration? Cough up every detail. Don’t fret, I’ll dress you for today, you just speak to me. Yes, today is business fancy for you, my dear”

[lucysarah-c]

Thinking about Levi being this amazing lover who leaves you breathless is great, amazing, perfect. Love it.

Then why does my mind tend to wander so much to Levi being sexually frustrated? Like this man closed up in the scouts after being taken out of the underground, stuck with a bunch of other guys in the barracks. Levi cherishes his privacy; he may have been young when he left the underground, but there's no way he's going to be jerking off under some thin blanket with the stink of mothballs while the others sleep. Then he finally gets his own room, his own office, bathroom, everything, but... he's so overwhelmed with work that he hardly has time to think about anything else.

He knows he's the one who reprimands the cadets if they are being hormonal little shits. But then some nights he simply can't help it. Hand on the slippery tiles, gripping it in vain as he bites his bottom lip and his hand works relentlessly on his cock. Squeezing it in all the right spots, playing with his own balls the way he knows drives him crazy. Some nights he gets off more than twice, but it's not the same. His mind replays vivid memories from the humid, dark dead ends of the underground city. With rushed quickies and the passionate recklessness of youth. No, his hand even pales in comparison to the memory of having his dick milked dry by some warm, slippery cunt.

Then, that's when you come into his thoughts. He simply can't stop thinking about you; he feels like he's a teenager all over again, and he hates it. He wets his sheets like a pre-teen having dreams. He brews you a tea that you softly blow on because it's too hot, and he simply can't help but imagine your gorgeous lips so close to his dick, smiling mischievously but not touching him. Your body in the harness only fuels wild thoughts of how he would tie you up, force you into position, snap those belts against your skin until it's boiling red.

And perhaps, just perhaps... the real reason why he asks for a blow job before he ravages you in bed is eagerness under the guise of dominance. He's scared of not lasting long enough if he doesn't finish once, perhaps making himself look like a fool and cumming as soon as he finally feels the welcoming heat of your velvet walls.

But Levi would never admit it, of course not.

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @@hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[caraphernellie]

can u write ellie with dacryphillia

absolutely. i might be a little obsessed with dacryphilia m sorry (not) and i swear ellie would LOVE to see it. she would go crazy. also my first time posting smut with a strap somehow i haven't posted any yet. now bare with me ok. this was also kind of inspired by a video i saw on twitter that was like... sorta ellie coded. (anything involving a grey hoodie makes me think of her now) (oops)

cw: softdom! ellie at the start, mean dom! ellie, sub! brat! reader, kind of shy! reader, strap on sex (r!receiving), riding, missionary, rough sex, dacryphilia obvs, degrading, strap referred to as cock and dick, nicknames such as good girl, baby, babe, slut, straight up porn without plot xx

info: ok so... you know me. biggest softdom ellie truther. at least for jackson ellie. now i raise you: softdom ellie who has a gf in a bratty mood and she's starting to get annoyed by letting you have your way too often... so she basically jackhammers u until u get the point! she's in charge here <3

・wc: 1.2k

“kay, faster now.”

ellie’s order falls on deaf ears for the millionth time and she’s starting to reach a limit. she has been for some time now. she’s too soft, and who could blame her? her brain turns to mush the minute she’s got you this way.

dazzling green eyes focusing in on the way your body moves, the rippling of skin and contortions of your belly. her hands find home on the spaces between your ribs and your hips, thumbs rubbing circles as you bounce on her strap.

“hey,” ellie tries her best with you, putting on a stern tone now, and her hand weakly slaps one of your tits. she bites back a smirk of pride at your jolt. “do you hear me?”

you definitely do. but hearing isn’t the same as listening or even caring. not when the rhythmic circles your hips are moving in are scratching that itch so good. it’s satisfying the pit of warm need in your stomach that’s been waiting all day. the pit you begged and begged ellie to help you out with.

it’s how you ended up here, ellie still half dressed in her grey pullover and you on her lap with nothing but an unzipped hoodie on.

“aww, i thought you said you were desperate, baby,” ellie continues, “what’s this?”

a shiver runs down your spine, ellie’s hand moving over the expanse of skin on your stomach and squeezing your tit. she’s on two trains of thought, distracted by the way the soft ball of flesh fits in her hand, and trying to keep you in line. because what ellie can feel is her power slipping out of her grip no matter how hard she squeezes your body under her palms. 

“so you’re not even gonna talk to me?”

a fire ignites in ellie when you move slower, rolling your hips down onto her cock, the depth eliciting a drawn out and long moan from you.

“god, can you not be fuckin’ stupid for two seconds?” ellie asks, never genuine when she gets like this albeit it’s a rare occurrence for sure. she starts to buck her hips upward, fucking into you while forcing you to change your pace – her hands grip meaty thighs and begin bouncing you up and down. she revels in the way you mewl a little louder, the sight of your tits bouncing.

“like this. don’t let me tell you twice, baby. i mean it.” voice strained from the effort of her movements, ellie grunts and finally releases you. “you said you were desperate, so we’re making this quick, and i don’t wanna hear any complaints.”

i’m too nice to you sometimes, ellie thinks to herself. but she believes it pays off. she lives for the control, but she’s a more gentle lover. normally it’s enough to get you to listen just like it has right now, with you continuing at the pace she set. she watches with a satisfied smirk, her thumb reaching down languidly to flick at your clit.

“there she is, good girl.”

sometimes (most of the time), ellie gives in. she lets you do as you please. she never gets to hear you beg because she’s so weak for you, so eager to make her girl feel good, that she will give you exactly what you need when you ask. she will give up on trying to reign you in and do what she wants you to, only because the sight you are is already so convincing that ellie doesn’t mind. anything to see it, the furrow in your brows, your eyes rolling back. anything to see a happy, fucked out expression on your face.

so it’s no surprise ellie’s seeing a rise in bratty behaviour, she enables it. she shouldn’t complain, but she will anyway. it’s her fault and damn, she needs to do something about it before it gets worse. she’s had a busy week and doesn’t need this. because ellie hates her authority to be challenged by one of the only people she even has authority over. 

the fade of ellie’s smirk comes with the fade of speed. she hears the sweetest giggle escape your lips and she knows you’re treating this like some kind of joke now and she can’t have that. 

“we’re not doing this again, babe.” ellie’s voice is a low rasp by this point, the slightest bit of amusement present. what you expect might be another spank to the thigh before she inevitably gives in to you, but that’s not what comes your way.

this time it’s ellie chuckling. you yelp loudly as she flips you onto your back. she’s on top now, wasting no time, and she slides into you again.

everything happens too fast for you to fully process it, but she’s pounding into you now. the sounds of skin slapping, the squelching of ellie’s thrusts into your poor cunt, and your nonstop moans – it’s filthy. ellie can’t stop it now, grunts of effort made as she hooks your legs around her waist. if she didn’t know any better, she’d make some point about being able to see her cock poking and bulging out of your tummy, her thrusts deep and carnal.

hands balling the sleeves of your jacket into paws, you hide behind them, finding this to be one of the most intimate and closest experiences you’ve had. ellie’s caging your head between her arms, lip drawn between her teeth, eyes piercing down at you. she takes grip of your wrists and pins them down, laughing at you. “yeah, look at me, baby. look… who’s making you feel this good? who owns you?”

your eyes grow half-lidded and ellie’s face becomes a blur, tears clouding your vision whilst all you can do is halfheartedly moan her name in response. 

“poor baby,” ellie mocks, her voice a hoarse coo, as soft as she can manage. it’s a harsh comparison to the reckless power of her hips. as long as you will sing your pleasure to her, she won’t stop. “i thought you wanted it so bad, you wanted my dick so bad, so what’s your deal?”

“mm… n- noth–” you try, you try to speak, but things are getting fuzzy. there’s nothing to occupy your busy mind besides her. ellie, ellie, ellie.

you’re brought out of the fuzziness for a moment when ellie cups your face to wipe a tear off your cheek.

“you just needed me to do all the work for you, huh? so you can lay there cryin’ ‘cuz it just feels that good to get fucked like this?”

all you do is nod, pitiful moans and whimpers flooding ellie’s senses, egging her on just as much as the sight of her strap covered in your essence does.

“i try so hard to be nice to you, baby, feels like you just–” ellie takes one particularly hard thrust into your sopping cunt, “--take advantage of that like a slut…”

“m’sorry,” you squeak, hands wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her closer, closer, closer, nails digging into her back and eliciting a hiss. she’s getting sloppier now, tired and finding that the base of the strap is pressing too well into her clit, making her near delirious, like it’s her real dick she’s fucking you with.

“who’s in charge?” ellie demands to know, glaring down at you but with no malice, there’s nothing but lust and amazement as hot tears streak your cheeks. “who are you gonna obey next time?”

“you.”

“who?”

“ellie, ellie, ellie ellie ellie.”

“that’s right,” ellie scoffs with a nod. “good girl.”

shes so pretty and i need her really bad and um um um um

[drewstarkeyslut]

Dark!rafe and dark!reader who show up to the boneyard with different people and after a verbal fight the two end up hooking up in his truck. Maybe they leave together 👀

RIDE OR DIE ᡣ𐭩

Warnings: smut (p in v), choking, slapping, creampie, kidnapping, rafe forcing jj/sofia to watch as he fucks reader (idk what else, sorry if i missed anything)

A/N: sorry it took me forever to finish babe, my motivation has been down the drain lately. i truly dont know if i like this, it’s mehh.. but i hope you enjoy it🥹🥲 also wanted to thank @drudyslut for helping me alot with it by coming up with some ideas, your brain works wonders! ilysm bestie💕

You and Rafe were together but not together, it was complicated. You loved to get under each others skin. It was like a competition, every fucking time. Rafe was a jealous guy, and you were a jealous girl, that was obvious. Shit got crazy from time to time, it was inevitable. You two were toxic together.

Tonight there was a party at the boneyard and you decided the best way to mess with Rafe’s head was to show up with none other than JJ Maybank. You and Rafe had gotten into it the night before, nothing new but you were out for blood. You knew his hatred for the pogue, so you definitely knew what you were getting yourself into. That was the plan and you went with it.

What you didn’t know was that Rafe was two steps ahead.

You and JJ arrived at the boneyard, his arm draped around your neck. His hand basically grazing over your breast. You two walked in smiling and laughing. That’s when you locked eyes with Rafe, he was seething and you knew it. You were living for it.

The first thing you noticed when you looked over at Rafe was the girl who threw herself all over him, peppering his neck with kisses. It was Sofia, the girl before you, the one bitch you despised.

“Hey JJ, you go ahead, I’ll catch up with you in a bit!” You give him a smile and a kiss on the cheek. You knew Rafe was watching and it killed him to witness that even when he just had the bitch all over his neck just a few seconds ago. No one touches his girl, and if they do, they might as well be dead.

“Alright Princess, be safe.” JJ nods at you then proceeds to catch up with the rest of the pogues.

“Hey fuck face!” You shout, storming towards Rafe.

“Who me?” Sofis questions, obvlious to the situation and making it obvious she was annoyed with your presence.

“Not you, you nasty little whore. Him.” You point in Rafes direction. He’s already eyeing you, theres no telling what he’s thinking about with that blank look on his face.

“What do you want y/n? Shouldn’t you be with your little pogue boy toy, Maybank?” Rafe spat, his arms pushing Sofia closer into him. He did it to piss you off, and it was working.

“Actually, yes. Just wanted to stop by and say fuck you, have fun with this dumb cunt! Just know you’ll be thinking about me when you’re inside of her. Have a good fucking night.” You hiss, looking at him then to Sofia. You turn around making sure your hair whipped the bitch in her face.

“Oh I will, sweetheart.” Rafe jabbed. A devilish grin adorning his face as he took a sip from his cup.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Sofia questions Rafe. His eyes are still locked on you as you make your way back to JJ. He watches as JJ wraps his arm around you pulling you closer to him. He says something to you that makes you laugh then plants kisses on your forehead.

“Nothing Sofia, just…fucking drop it.” Rafe’s mind was spiraling, all he could think about was you and that fucking pogue and he didn’t like it one bit.

A couple hours passed since you arrived at the boneyard, you were currently grinding on JJ, genuinely having fun. You were feeling a bit tipsy, not quite drunk yet but definitely not sober. You honestly were just having a good time. You didn’t want to think about Rafe right now, thinking about him with Sofia would just push your fucking buttons.

“Hey JJ, would you please get me another drink?” You ask him with pleading eyes.

“Of course princess. I got ya, I’ll be right back!” JJ gushed.

You were dancing with Sarah and Kie while waiting for JJ to come back with your drink. Ten minutes go by but it felt like hours, JJ never came back. You start to worry as your eyes scan the boneyard. You get a glimpse of where the drinks are set up, but still no sign of JJ. You decide not to worry.. just yet, thinking he probably bumped into John B or Pope and got carried away.

After another hour of dancing and talking with Sarah and Kie you wander off to look for JJ. He certainly wasn’t with John B, because he came looking for Sarah. Pope was with Cleo. So where the fuck did JJ go? Did he find some other girl to take to the Chateau? And if so, why didn’t he just tell you? It’s not like you two were an item.

You were so lost in your thoughts when all of a sudden a hand covered your mouth and an arm wrapped around your torso pulling you into someones chest.

“Shh. Baby girl. Don’t make a sound.” Rafe whispers in your ear. His dick was slightly hard, you could feel his bulge poking into your ass.

He leads you to his truck, throws you inside, and walks to the drivers side, hopping in.

“What the fuck Rafe?!” You yell.

“Shut up y/n! How ‘bout you be quiet f’me..yeah?” Rafe mutters. He starts the truck and starts speeding off.

“Where the hell are you taking me? I don’t want to go anywhere with you, where is Sofia? Got bored of her already huh?” You start going off, still pissed about him bringing Sofia to the boneyard.

“I said shut the fuck up! It’s not that hard to listen is it?” Rafe hits the steering wheel, noticably agitated, he turns up the music to drown you out.

“Well god damn. Alright. Someone is fucking pissy.” You mumble under your breath and roll your eyes. You were used to shit like this when it came to Rafe, nothing surprised you anymore. You stare out the window as you listen to “RUNRUNRUN” by Dutch Melrose blasting on the radio.

Rafe finally pulls up to Tannyhill, you look at the beautiful home you knew all too well. You knew what Rafe wanted from you, why else would he have brought you here? Shit, you wanted it too. You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to.

You hop out of the truck without Rafe having to force you out of it. Rafe stalks towards you, he opens the door to Tannyhill and you both step inside. You push Rafe against the wall as you look up at him with hungry eyes, his eyes dart down to your tits, licking his lips. Rafe grips your throat, turning his body so that now your body slams against the wall. He always wanted to be in control, especially tonight.

“You know Rafe, if you wanted to fuck me, you could have just called me.” You bite your lip looking up into his eyes.

He wastes no time going in for a kiss, you don’t hesitate, not even for a second as you kiss him back. He releases the tight grip from your throat, putting his arms out low enough so he could pick you up.

“Jump” Rafe orders. You do as he says, wrapping your legs around him as he holds you up against the wall.

He shoves his tongue in your mouth and you moan into his mouth, your tongues clashing. You two were completely absorbed in making out as he carries you up the stairs into his room and throws you on the bed, climbing on top of you.

“Shit, you got me hard as fuck. I can’t wait to fuck this tight pretty little pussy but first....” Rafe reaches over and turns on the lamp, letting the light brighten the room just a bit.

You see something from the corner of your eye as you look over and see JJ and Sofia tied to chairs. They were gagged with tape over their mouths so they couldnt make a sound. They were crying and fighting their restraints. Rafe made sure they wouldn’t be able to get out of them.

“What’s going on Rafe, why are JJ and Sofia here, like that?” You question him, you weren’t even shocked to see them restrained as if it happened before.

“Oh hmm, I don’t know — maybe because JJ here didn’t seem to know that you’re my girl y/n, and no one fucks with my girl. No one touches what belongs to me.” Rafe stated confidently, looking JJ straight in his eyes. “So, he and miss Sofia here will be watching me claim what’s mine. They will know who owns you.” Rafe smirked, palming himself through his shorts.

There was something so sinister in the way Rafe thought and did things that surpisingly didn’t bother you and did quite the opposite. It turned you on.

“All yours, and only yours Rafe! Let this cunt know that this pussy is the only pussy you’ll be fucking that cock into, the only pussy that cries for you.” You grinned, pulling him closer by the loops on his shorts.

“Fuck, you really know how to get me goin’ such a good slut f’me. I need to feel you, need to be inside of you, now.” Rafe growls. He pulls his shirt off, unbuttoning his pants and taking those off too.

“Wow no boxers huh?” You giggled. You start drooling at the sight of his hard cock, precum dripping from his tip and onto you. Just the sight of his cock had your pussy sopping wet.

“I bet you’re not wearing any panties, damn slut. How about we check?” Rafe laughs, lifting up your dress to reveal your pussy glistening on full display.

You pull your dress over your head and undo your bra throwing it on the floor. You wanted him, you were impatient.

“Fuck me Rafe. Right now. Want to feel every inch of your cock, need you to fill me up full of your cum.” You moan. Rafe pins your arms above your head, visicously gripping your wrists.

He smashes his lips against yours as he enters his length into your wet cunt. You gasp, your moans muffled from Rafe’s tongue down your throat. His cock slowly thrusting in and out of your pussy. His cock drowning in your wet pussy.

He pulls away from the kiss, one hand giving a slap to your cheek.

“You like that huh? You filthy slut. Fuck. You feel so damn good.” Rafe gives the other side of your cheek a slap.

“Fuckkkk, y-yyes! ch-choke me Rafe. I need to feel your big hands wrapped around my throat.” You beg,

“Whatever my little cumslut wants, she gets. But.. can you handle it baby girl?” Rafe asks but wastes no time as both hands release the grip from your wrists making their way down to your throat. The grip was deathly, your airways were absolutely constricted, face turning a light shade of pink.

“Oh fuck, yes. Oh my god, faster please daddy. Feels so fucking good! I want to cum” You scream, your words coming out strained due to your struggle for air.

Rafe picks up the pace, his cock ramming into your cunt, his thrusts sloppy and brutal. Your juices making a mess on his large veiny cock.

“This pussy is mine. You’re all mine. You belong to me. You got that y/n?” Rafe rasped. You just nod your head, too focused on how his cock was making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t lie, he was the best fuck you ever had and ever will have. You were addicted just as much as he was.

“Yes sir. All yours. Every inch of me belongs to you.” You moan out as he releases his grip from your throat.

“That’s my fuckin’ good girl.” Rafe praises.

“Fuck! Ahh, Rafe I’m gonna cum!” You let go and squirt all over his cock.

“Shiiiit, I’m gonna fill this pretty little cunt up. You want it? You little slut. Fuck come on, tell JJ and Sofia just how much you need my cum baby girl.” Rafe taunts. You almost forgot that JJ and Sofia were in the room, tied up, and trying to keep their eyes shut so they didn’t have to witness this.

“Rafe p-please I need it! Need your cum to fill me up and drip right fucking out of my pussy!” You whine. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him more towards you. His cock pushes deeper into you making you tremble and scream.

“God damn baby girl, keep grippin’ this fuckin’ dick just like that. Ah fuuuck, you’re doing so well f’me. Fuckin’ take it like a filthy whore. Oh shit baby girl, here it comes!” Rafe groans loudly, a string of curses falling from his lips and thick white ropes of cum shooting deep inside you.

He looks over to JJ and Sofia, “Bet you thought you’d be the one in this sweet pussy tonight, yeah?” Rafe laughs. JJ mutters something under his breath as he still struggles to find a way out.

Rafe goes back to paying him no attention. He pulls out, his warm seed spilling out of your pussy and dripping onto the bedsheets.

“Wish it was you filled with his cum instead, hmm? Too damn bad it will never be you, bitch.” You stare into Sofia’s eyes, you hated that bitch and wanted her to know that he was not hers to fuck around with. Rafe was yours. Always will be.

[toruro]

— ✧ desperate

i don't know what i'd be doing without you (raise y_our glass / huh yunjin)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader

description: when your husband starts to get more and more busy, you naturally grow needy. it’s only after long game of cat and mouse that he finally gets you to fess up about what's been bothering you, and it's safe to say your answer is definitely not what he's expecting. 

tags: smut (18+), husband!wonwoo, fluff, oral (f receiving), bulge kink, angst and miscommunication but it's resolved ^-^

w/c: 3.7k

a/n: inspired by this ... so sorry it took me so long to get to this, it's been sitting in my drafts for SO long ... but i hope u all enjoy! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated :3

You’re convinced you’ve gone crazy. This shouldn’t be right—your fiancé being exhausted shouldn’t turn you on—it’s wrong. Isn’t it?

It’s been bothering you recently, but you’ve held back.

When he comes home and immediately drops his black suit jacket on the floor and his jaw is tight, you turn away and ignore how it reminds you of the way he clenches his teeth when fucking into you. When he unbuttons his white formal shirt at the top, revealing the chiseled curve of his chest, you leave the room for a few moments, hoping that the burning ache between your legs will soon ebb away. It’s exhausting in its own way, you think.

Coming home every day to a quiet house, with nothing but you and your hand slipping under the waistband of your panties trying to do anything and everything to make your fingers feel like his; Wonwoo walking in hours after your futile attempts to make yourself cum, muttering sincere apologies of, “I’m sorry, there’s just this one deal we’ve been trying to make and—“

You’d have to shush his words, wrapping your arms around him saying, “It’s okay, I understand—you’re working so hard.”

"I hate being away from you," Wonwoo would admit, and you'd kiss his cheek softly. He'd melt in your arms and in the moment you'd feel so guilty for feeling so needy earlier, but you can't lie and say the way that his arms are so large and hard under your touch has you throbbing.

You'd get into bed before Wonwoo is out of the shower, doing your best to lull yourself to sleep so you don't have to be awake to feel his bare skin against your body, because you just know your poor pussy won't be able to handle it.

Tonight, he comes back around the same time as others—weary after a long day at work—a small frown etched on his lips as he runs a rough hand through his tousled hair, noticing that you aren’t by his side to greet him like normal. A twinge of disappointment runs through his body as he glances around, waiting silently to see if you're just a few seconds away from walking up to him,

To be honest, you’ve been horny all evening—like pretty much all other ones—so when you hear him unlock the door, you just can't bring yourself to go see him, knowing that you probably wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to just sink to your knees in front of him and unbuckle his pants.

Wonwoo, still standing by the doorway, is frankly quite confused. "Baby," he calls out, wondering that maybe you just didn't hear him walk in.

But when you only let out a low hum and say, "Yeah?" in response, he feels...dejected? No, that it's the right word.

To be honest, Wonwoo has been sensing something's wrong. He brushed it off earlier, thinking that it was probably just him being too tired to tell the difference between you being tired too, and you avoiding him. Up until right now, he had convinced himself it was the former—you two both had been swamped in work, so he figured that you were just as exhausted as him.

Now, Wonwoo isn't too sure of himself. Those thoughts that 'what if she's not interested anymore,' are creeping back into his mind, but when he walks into the living room to see you curled up in the couch, he tries to push them away. Absentmindedly slipping off his suit jacket and unbuttoning the top of his shirt, he walks over to you and sits next to you on the couch.

"How was work?" you ask him, not really looking up from your phone as you lean in slightly to his side. Fuck, he looks so good with the way his glasses hang low, collarbone on display, eyes gazing intensely at yours—fuck, fuck, fuck, you just can't take it.

"Good," Wonwoo hums, wrapping an arm around your side and you might just combust with the way the rough pads of his fingers brush against your skin because—fuck—you can't stop thinking about the way they rub the inside of your cunt. "How was your day?"

"Tiring," you reply honestly, and just when Wonwoo thinks you'll sink deeper into his hold, you're pulling away, leaving him cold and confused. "I'm going to get into bed now," you murmur, "'m really tired, you know?" Sitting up from the couch, your fiancé just stares at you for a few moments, blinking, before you force yourself to turn away and walk hastily to your bedroom.

If Wonwoo thought something was wrong before, he definitely knows something is wrong now. You and him, you're good at communicating. Wonwoo expects you to tell him if there's anything bothering you, and you expect the same of him; so now that there's obviously something you aren't telling him, he's more worried than anything that there's something you aren't comfortable telling him.

After snapping out of the somewhat shocked state he's in, he doesn't hesitate to stand up and follow behind you. You're crawling into bed when you hear his footsteps thudding up towards you, and this is when you think your luck has run out—your patience is running thin, and if you look at Wonwoo any longer, you know you won't be able to handle it, turning yourself over in the bed to smush your face in the pillow.

Maybe if you pretend you're asleep he won't talk to you. Unfortunately for you, like you said: your luck has run out.

"Baby," Wonwoo coos softly, as you feel the mattress dip next to you with his added weight. There's a hand on your shoulder and you think you might just crumble right there and then. "C'mon, I know you're awake." Maybe if you just hold out a little bit longer—"Okay seriously."

You open one eye and let it flicker to the direction of Wonwoo's voice, finding him sitting on the bed on his knees next to you, eyes pleading. "'m tired," you try to tell him, turning back before he grabs your shoulder again.

"Something's wrong." Yeah, maybe it's the fact that you haven't been able to make yourself cum in weeks.

"Yeah," you say bluntly, the words coming out harsher than you'd anticipated. "I'm tired and you aren't letting me sleep. That's what's wrong." Wonwoo gives you that look and now you know you're really in for it.

"You're avoiding me."

You open both your eyes, sitting up and leaning against the headboard with a frown. "I'm not."

"You didn't say come hi when I came home."

"I was cozy on the couch."

"Angel, you always come say hi to me," Wonwoo says, and you can swear there's almost a pout on his lips. You rub your eyes with your hands, trying to distract yourself from the way you can see under his shirt when he leans forward, revealing his pretty set of hard muscles.

"Sorry, I don't know I just—I was really tired today," you try to say sincerely, looking at your fiancé with eyes practically begging him to just let it go.

"Did I do something wrong?" Wonwoo blurts out, and your eyes widen.

"What, no?" you exclaim, nearly mortified that he would even think that. "No, why would you think that?"

Wonwoo's eyes furrow, and you can't quite read his expression. "You've been so distant..." his voice trails off. "If I did something wrong I want us to talk about it, not have secrets." You sigh as he reaches his hand over to intertwine with yours, squeezing your eyes shut when you find yourself focusing in on the thick, prominent veins.

"It's embarrassing," you murmur under your breath, not daring to look Wonwoo in the eye while a series of downright filthy thoughts run through your mind.

"It's okay," Wonwoo whispers, inching closer to you, so sincere that it's driving you crazy.

"I—" your voice hitches in your throat, and he looks at you worriedly as you pull your hand away from his so you can bury your face in your palms, inhaling deeply. He places a hand on your back immediately and the proximity has you squeaking out his name.

"What is it, baby?" Fuck, his voice is so deep and it's slightly hoarse and it's strumming your heart in ways that you can't even describe.

"It's just—you're just gone so—so much," you finally manage to say. You know it's vague, but it's the only thing that you can muster up.

Wonwoo's face scrunches up, and he looked at you confused. "I—I know," he sighs, getting frustrated with himself for leaving you like this. You catch the somber look on his face, and your heart tightens at the idea that he thinks this is his fault because it's not.

Not his fault his cock is so fat and long and pretty in ways that has your mouth salivating when you even just think about it. Not his fault that whenever you close your eyes and press your thighs together, all you can think about is his length carving its shape into your aching cunt. Yeah. Totally not his fault.

"I'm sorry," Wonwoo continues when you don't respond. "Have I been neglecting you?"

Your pussy, yeah. "N-no, it's not that," you stutter out, trying to push the thoughts away. Maybe there's still some time for you to back out of this.

"Can you not lie? I can tell you're upset with me."

"No!" you say quickly, bringing up a hand to catch his wrist. His skin burns against yours, and you aren't sure how much longer you can put this up. "I guess I just...I missed you a lot..." your voice trails off hoping that Wonwoo will understand what you’re getting at, but the dazed look on his face tells you he hasn’t got a clue.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says with a frown, linking his fingers with the ones on his wrist, pulling you close. Fuck, you really should pull away because his gentle tug is reminding you of the way he pulls you on top of him when you're about to ride him and—“Work has just been a lot lately,” he explains sadly, looking down at you as he pulls you flush against his chest.

Your face is burning and his exposed skin pressed against you is just too much, and you need to pull away. “Wonwoo, just—“

“Do you not love me anymore?” he blurts out and you freeze.

“What?!” you gasp out. “What the hell—no, Wonwoo.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and now you know that you can’t let this go on any longer.

“I’m trying to figure out why you’ve been so so distant and you keep pushing me the fuck away and—“ he rambles, clearly frustrated when he rakes a hand through his hair.

Your eyes well up with tears and you aren’t sure if it’s because of how sad Wonwoo looks or how bad you feel for letting it all build up to this point or how you feel guilty for being so needy in the first place.

“It’s not you, it’s not you, it’s me!” you finally manage to tell him. Wonwoo stills, watching tears leak from your lashes as you go on. “I’ve just been missing you so much, Won,” you blabber, “and when you come home so tired and exhausted I don’t wanna bother you and—sometimes it hurts to be in the same room as you because I just wanna feel you but—”

“Wait hold on,” Wonwoo murmurs, his faced scrunched up. “That’s what this is about.”

You look away bashfully, burying your face in your hands. “I told you, Won—it’s embarrassing!” Wonwoo stares at you for a moment, blinking as he lets your words sink in. You're scared of his reaction, keeping your eyes shut tight—afraid you'll see him looking down at you and seeing you for the desperate, needy girl you are.

The anticipation of his response is still killing you though, and you're about to murmur something more when you hear Wonwoo stifle a little laugh. Peeking up at him through your fingers, you catch him watching you with a rather amused smile.

"You were just horny?" he murmurs, bringing his hand up to pull your fingers away from your face.

Quickly averting your gaze, you mumble, "I—I wasn't just horny...it's just—it's been weeks and you look—" you bite your lip wondering if you should go on. The smirk on his face tells you yes. "—you look really nice when you get home."

"Pretty sure that means you were just horny," Wonwoo teases, and although you feel like the world might as well swallow you whole, a lot of the tension that's been weighing down on your shoulders has vanished. Since your confession, Wonwoo has traced his hands up your arms and down your body so they now rest on your waist, pulling you close to him as he shifts his own body so he can lay against the headboard.

"No," you huff, easing back into a more comfortable setting now that you're sitting on his lap, the heated mess between your legs growing even more dirty. "Missed you. Missed this." You punctuate the last word with an peck on his lips that has you both grinning.

"Missed my dick, is what you're trying to say," Wonwoo says with a roll of his eyes, and you slap his shoulder.

Pouting, you reply, "Hey. Stop doing that, or you're going to make me start feeling like I'm the only one who wants this..."

"This?" Wonwoo's eyebrow is cocked up, and you feel yourself shrinking under his gaze. Your hips are resting dangerously close to his, but his firm grip on you has you stuck in your place.

"You know..." your voice goes quiet, and you look up your husband pleadingly.

"I've really left you needy, huh angel..." he mutters under his breath, running one finger along your bottom lip as you lean into his touch. And then his lips are crashing onto yours, a wet mess of tongue and saliva as you both lick into each other's mouth.

Whining, you grind down onto his pelvis when lets go of his bruising grip on your waist, allowing you to find that friction that you've been craving for weeks. Your hands instinctively fly up to tug at his button up, the flat rounds of plastic slipping through his fingers as you claw your way to feel his skin against you.

Wonwoo lets you work his shirt off of him, pulling away so he can fix his own attention on your pajama pants, wondering how many times you've tried to make yourself cum in them. He shoves away the thought of leaving you so needy that you felt the need to fucking play with yourself, instead bringing his hands to the elastic waistband and yanking down and over the curve of your ass.

"I missed you so much, Won-won," you mewl into his shoulder, legs instinctively wrapping around his bare torso once you successfully rid Wonwoo of his shirt and kick off your pajamas off.

"You could've—" he cuts off with his own grunt as he adjusts under you, trying to push his pants off of himself as he grows harder by the second, "—said something earlier. You should've."

You look up at him meekly once he finally get's his work pants out of the way and thrown off the bed, squirming in your own panties and loose shirt. "I know but you're working so hard," your voice trails off. "Coming home everyday, all tired and all."

"I always have energy for you," he murmurs, nipping at the skin of your neck, allowing himself to taste as much of you as you'll let him. Quickly and firmly, he flips the two of you so that you're leaning against the cushions and he's on top of you, settling in between your legs. Sucking hard, Wonwoo vaguely thinks about how you might complain about the hickey in the morning, but the thought is swept away when you thread your fingers into his hair and tug gently.

"Wonwoo," you coo, and you don't need to say any more for him to know what you want. He briefly considers teasing you a little longer—making you plead with him, tear up as you beg for him to fuck you, but he knows that you've been thinking about this for too long to have the will to make you wait any longer. Wonwoo can save the edging for another time, he reminds himself, as he slowly makes his way down your body so that his lower half is resting flat on the mattress, strong arms wrapping around your legs and hips.

"Missed seeing you like this, pretty," he murmurs, nuzzling his cheek into your inner thigh, placing wet kisses on the sensitive skin.

"Missed you too," you mumble, growing shy by the way Wonwoo's staring down at the wet spot that stains your panties in front of him.

"Yeah?" he hums, bringing up one hand to pinch the nub of your clit between the fabric, causing you to gasp loudly and throw your head back. "I can tell baby...you're soaked." The tips of your ears burn and you bury your face into the crook of your arm.

"Won-won..."

"Sorry baby, you just look so sexy right now...take your shirt off for me," he responds with a cheeky grin, pressing a kiss onto your soiled panties before peeling them off while you shimmy off your own top. You hiss when the cool air hits your slick folds, hips bucking for some friction. "Easy," Wonwoo orders, grounding your hips down with one strong arm, "Let me take my time with you."

"But I can't wait anymore!" you whimper, watching him bring his face dangerously close to your core. A choked moan rips from your throat when Wonwoo heeds your body's request, liking a warm stripe up your cunt, swirling his tongue over your aching clit. He hums against you as he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, sucking so hard it has your arms flying down to grip at his hair.

Without anymore words, Wonwoo glides his tongue through your folds, pressing against them flat and hard and fuck, does he move so languidly, it's like your bodies were made for each other. He lets you tug at his hair, loosening his grip on your waist so that you can buck your hips in a shallow motion while he swivels his head up and down in sync, allowing you to grind against his face perfectly.

"Fuck—Wonwoo—I missed you so much," you cry out when he prods one finger at your hole, the gyrating of your hips taking its opportunity to suck him right in. And before you know, he's got two fingers plunged knuckle deep inside your cunt as he continues to lap at your clit. His name runs from your lips like a mantra and you wonder how you'd gone more than day without having him go down on you like this, because right now it feels as if Wonwoo is all you can breathe, smell, feel, and think.

"Yeah? Think you can show me how much you missed me?" he manages out, finally pulling his face away to catch his breath before diving right back into your filthy cunt, allowing the glistening mess that runs from his lips and down his chin to grow even messier.

"Yes!" you moan as he slips in a third finger, curling them up into that one spot that is burned into the back of his mind—the one spot that has your legs shaking and eyes shutting tight as you cry out his name when your orgasm hits. Wonwoo finger fucks you through the high, and suddenly you're trembling for his touch, to feel his skin against yours, to have him so close you wouldn't be surprised if you mold into one.

Intertwining your fingers with his clean one, you pull him up so fast that he nearly falls over you, grunting a little as he climbs his way up to have his body hovering over yours. It's not enough, you think dazedly, wrapping your arms around his torso to yank him down on you so that your bodies are pressed up right against each other. "Baby," he huffs as his clothed cock rubs up against your bare cunt.

You push your lips against his in an awkward, sloppy kiss as you body roll around in the sheets as Wonwoo tries to shuffle off boxers and you try to wrap your legs around his bare torso as best as you can. As soon as you're both successful, he's pulling away from your lips for a moment to gasp when he slides his cock through your dripping folds. Fuck, it really has been too long, he thinks.

Wonwoo is drunk on the feeling of your wetness alone, and then you're holding him so close—tits pressed up against his chest and pelvis pressing into his and god, he can't take it anymore. He'll apologize later for giving you no warning, but right now he just needs to be inside of you, sinking his fat length into your warm cunt with no hesitation.

The stretch is delicious, and you're reminded of just why your fingers were never able feel the same—he's splitting you in half, and you can't help but crave for more and more and more. Your skin burns and it feels like you might just pass out from the pleasure, but you don't mind if you meet your end—not if it's by Wonwoo's hand.

And then he shifts inside you just a little but that's more than enough for you both to feel it. Wonwoo's stomach is pressed up against yours and it'd be impossible to not feel it. He grabs your hand in his and slips it between the little space that's left between you two so you can both smooth your hands over your stomach and the realization is more than enough to have your feeling another orgasm bubble up in your core.

Because at the base of your belly is the imprint of Wonwoo's cock inside of you, so deep that you're body forced itself to make room for him and the thought alone is enough to have you moaning into each other's mouth as your lips meet for another filthy kiss.

It's about to be a long fucking night.

[museanddream]

The Show || Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: Ona shows you how she likes to touch herself when you’re not around.

Warnings: 🔞 || masturbation, praise kink, bottom!ona

Word count: 2.4k

…..

“I want to watch you touch yourself.”

You see the exact moment Ona’s brain short-circuits behind her dark eyes. No doubt she’s imagining the scenario you’ve just suggested because her thighs clench together, leaving you to wonder exactly how turned on your girlfriend is before even being touched.

“Can you do that for me, beautiful?” you ask. “Show me how you get yourself off when I’m not around?”

Her cheekbones flushed a pretty shade of pink and her eyelids heavy with want, Ona nods and utters a soft, “Yeah.”

You reward Ona with a kiss, catching her lower lip between your teeth to pull another soft moan from her throat. Your hands find the hem of her t-shirt and tug it upwards, forced to break the kiss to do so but Ona lifts herself enough to help you pull it over her head. She’s not wearing a bra underneath and you’re treated to plenty of freckled skin but you want more. You slide your hands up Ona’s sides, enjoying the way her breath catches in her throat when you pass over a ticklish spot, stopping only to circle your thumbs over her nipples before tracing the same path down until you reach the waistband of her shorts, where you snap the elastic against her skin.

“These need to go too.”

Ona complies, thumbs hooking into the waistband as she pulls both her shorts and underwear down her legs and throws both to the side. She looks vulnerable, spread out on the bed without a shred of clothing, looking up at you with an expression in her eyes that seems to implore you to do or say something.

“Beautiful.” You appraise her body, running your hands over the smooth skin of her thighs until your fingertips tease at her hipbones. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. My beautiful girl.”

Ona shudders and whether it’s because she’s cold or painfully turned on, you aren’t entirely sure, but you do know that both of those things can be solved by kissing Ona until she melts into the mattress below her. You crawl up the bed and cover Ona’s body with your own, knees bracketed on either side of her hips, and press your mouth to Ona’s in an open-mouthed kiss. It’s imprecise but that’s what makes it better, knowing that Ona is already halfway to ruin when she hasn’t even been touched yet.

Your hands start to wander, exploring the vast amount of naked skin beneath you but deliberately avoiding the places that will provide Ona with any direct pleasure. You kiss her messily as your hands skate around the sides of her breasts, swallowing the moan that slips from her lips as you scratch your blunt nails over the ridges of her abs, before sending them right back up to her shoulders to start again. Your aim is to tease, to overstimulate her and drive her crazy to the point where she just has to start touching herself for you.

As your hands flit downwards again, dipping below her hipbones but still not between her legs, you feel rather than see the way that Ona clenches her thighs together, and you pull back from the kiss to smirk down at your girlfriend.

“Oh, is there something you want?” You can’t help but tease her. “You’re just desperate to put on a show for me, aren’t you darling?”

Ona’s response comes in the form of a delicious whine, her hips rolling upwards into yours, as much as they can while your body pins hers to the bed.

This might be your favourite version of Ona, lips kiss-swollen and long hair fanned out against the pillow, her dark eyes clouded with lust and barely coherent enough to tell you what she wants. It turns you on endlessly to know that you can reduce Ona to this state, that somebody who is so determined and assured in every other aspect of life can turn to putty so easily with just a kiss and a few dirty words.

“What do you want, baby?”

Ona is shy under your gaze, the confidence that she oozes on the football pitch gone in the bedroom, which is usually your domain to take charge, and you urge her on.

“Use your words, beautiful.”

“Please,” she gasps.

You reward her by letting one of your hands graze her nipple, and she arches her back into your touch, but you’re not satisfied with her plea.

“Please what?”

“Want you to touch me,” Ona rasps.

You lean forward, pressing a trail of open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of Ona’s neck, stopping just below her ear as your whisper, “I don’t think that is what you want. Can you try again for me?”

Ona tilts her head the other way in embarrassment and lets out a whine, then murmurs, “Want to show you how I touch myself.”

You’re not cruel enough to make her repeat the words again but louder, and instead reward her by saying, “Good girl.”

You roll off Ona’s body but reach for her face, cupping her jaw and tilting her head back towards yours as you join your mouths together in another kiss, somehow hotter and filthier than the last. You lick past the seam of Ona’s lips and she welcomes your tongue into her mouth with a gasp, one of her hands coming up to claw at your t-shirt as she tries to pull you even closer.

Your hand drops from her face, sliding down her shoulder and her arm as you continue to kiss, until you can loop your fingers through hers. Then you descend further, across Ona’s toned stomach and past her hips until you can nudge her hand between her own legs, finally releasing her fingers.

You whisper against her lips. “Go on. Show me.”

You’re close enough to hear the breath catch in her throat as her hand slides lower of its own accord and you lift yourself up, propping your weight on one arm as you gaze down her body in wonder and watch the hand that disappears between her legs. Ona’s eyes are closed, mouth slightly parted, a little crease of concentration between her eyebrows as her fingers dip lower.

She’s touched herself in front of you before, but it’s always been a part of something else. Quick fingers near her clit when you’ve already brought her close with your strap, or shaky camera angles over FaceTime while your hand works between your own legs. Never like this, never with the sole intention of showing you how she likes to do it, with every movement under scrutiny for your own viewing pleasure.

And what a sight it is.

“Fuck, Ona,” you praise your girlfriend. “You look so good like this.

Ona finds a bit of a rhythm and you watch the way that her wrist works as her fingertips dance around her clit. Your own hand finds her thigh, soft skin over hard muscle, and you gently draw her knee up to give yourself a better view. Her hips start to move in tandem with her hand, rocking against her fingers as her head falls back against the pillow.

“Tell me, Ona, what do you think about when you fuck yourself like this?”

“You,” Ona manages to gasp out, sliding her fingers lower and sinking them into herself once, twice, before she withdraws and returns their attention to her swollen clit. “Always you.”

Her fingers are shiny with arousal now and it takes a huge amount of willpower not to replace them with your own, loving nothing more than feeling Ona wet against your fingers or your tongue. But the sight of Ona grinding against her own hand is still evidence of how much she wants you, even indirectly, and you know this visual will be burned into your memory for a long time to come, keeping you warm on those lonely nights when you’re away with your respective national teams.

You want to hear more about Ona’s fantasies when she touches herself like this, so you press her for more.

“What do you think about me?” you ask, your fingers digging into her thigh as you continue to spread her open. “Do you imagine it’s me touching you? My fingers, my tongue?”

Ona keens at your words, hips rolling against her hand. You have to clench your thighs together, trying to quell your own arousal as you watch Ona give in to her own.

“You touching me,” Ona tells you, her voice low and hoarse. “You fucking me, your hands, your mouth. Telling me how pretty I am, how good I am for you.”

“You are pretty,” you tell her. “Fuck, Ona, if only you knew how beautiful you look for me right now. So good, showing me how you fuck yourself. Go inside for me, love. Show me how you pretend your fingers are mine.”

Ona obeys, hand moving further down as she slides first one finger, then two into her dripping hole. You can hear the wetness as her fingers pump in and out, imagining how warm and tight it must feel, watching in wonder as Ona’s hips cant against each thrust with greater abandon. Each moan that slips from her lips is like a symphony in your ears, the sight of her freckled skin flushed pink and writhing on the sheets more beautiful than the greatest works of art. Ona is simply divine as she takes her own pleasure, giving you a hundred new fantasies as she gives in to her own.

“It feels good inside, doesn’t it?”

“Uh huh,” is all Ona manages to grunt out in response.

“Imagine they’re my fingers,” you tell her. “Imagine it’s me inside you. Me filling you up, taking what’s mine.”

“Please…” Ona whines.

“Please, what?” you ask her, using the hand not on her thigh to sweep away some of the loose strands of hair plastered to her now sweaty temples.

“Please let me come.”

“Such a good girl,” you praise her. “Asking for my permission. Go on, cariño. Show me how you make yourself come.”

With two fingers still buried inside herself, Ona sends her other hand down to rub frantically at her clit and it takes just seconds for her to fall apart. Her back arches off the bed, her abs twitching and her legs shaking as she rides her way through tremor after tremor of pleasure and all you can do is soothe her, running your hands over every inch of her that you can reach as you press kisses to her neck and collar bones and murmurs words of encouragement into her hot skin.

“So beautiful. So good for me. Fuck, baby, I’m so turned on just watching you make yourself come like that.”

Ona lets out another cry as the final aftershocks ripple through her body, turning her head to nuzzle into your face as she slowly drags her hands away and the climax subsides.

She looks blissed out, cheeks pink and eyelids heavy. You reward her with another kiss, slower than before but no less messy, mostly due to Ona’s fucked out state beside you.

“Did that feel good?” you ask, running a hand over her stomach, her abs twitching with the sensitivity of your touch.

Ona doesn’t say anything, just lets out a hum that sounds like an affirmative, so you continue.

“Cause it looked good. Fuck, Ona, you did such a good job getting yourself off.” You entwine your hand with Ona’s, looking in awe at the stickiness that coats your joined fingers. “Look at what a mess you made, it’s almost like you don’t need me at all.”

You know exactly what you’re saying and Ona, especially in this state of post-orgasmic euphoria, is predictably needy.

“I do,” Ona rasps, her voice a little hoarse from moaning out her orgasm just a moment ago. “I always need you.”

“You do?”

“It’s always better when it’s you.”

You go on as if to kiss her again, nudging your nose against her, but stop just before your lips can connect.

“Yeah?” you breathe into the almost non-existent space between your mouths.

Ona nods, tiny movements of her head as her eyes go cross-eyed to stare back at you.

Your mouth curls upwards in a slow smile, a plan forming in your mind, and you press your lips not to hers, but to her neck. You start your descent, pressing kiss after kiss against Ona’s warm skin as you go. When you reach her tits you wrap your lips around a dusky nipple, and when her back arches off the bed in response, pressing herself further into your mouth, you maneuver so that you’re half on top of her again, slotting one of your legs between hers. You’re still clothed, though your legs are covered in just a skimpy pair of training shorts that you’re pretty sure are actually Ona’s, and you press your bare thigh against the heat between Ona’s legs.

She lets out a gasp, her hand coming up to find the back of your head and threading her fingers through your hair.

As your mouth leaves her nipple with a wet pop and continues the descent down her body, she seems to realise what your destination is and lets out a keening whine.

“I don’t think I can,” she tells you.

You shift your position again, taking advantage of the fact that Ona is still relaxed and slightly spaced out from the recent orgasm she gave herself to reposition her legs until you can settle yourself neatly between them.

“You can, baby,” you assure her, as your mouth moves over her stomach, the lines of her abs and hipbones guiding you lower towards the wetness between her legs. “You did so well showing me how you touch yourself. Let me reward you.”

True to your word, this is supposed to be a reward not a punishment and when your mouth finally reaches Ona’s cunt, you’re ever so gentle with her. You lick from bottom to top, keeping your tongue flat as you reach her clit, aware that she’s still too sensitive for anything precise. Humming at the taste, you focus more on cleaning up the evidence of her first orgasm than giving her another.

“Okay?” You lift your mouth only to replace it with a finger that teases at her entrance.

Ona exhales softly.

“Yeah.”

“You think you can come again for me?”

Ona pauses for a moment, just long enough that you worry she’s going to say no, but she eventually nods.

“Yeah.”

You press a kiss just above Ona’s clit.

“Good girl.”

…..

Part 2 coming soon…