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marriedtobigfoot · 8 months

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Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #steve is sad #eddie helps #pre-season 4 #this takes place between seasons 2 and 3 #I wrote this in a fit of insanity while I was supposed to be working #hope yall like it

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marycorcaroli · 7 months

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NSFW HEADCANONS.

characters: kenshi takahashi, sub-zero, liu kang.

words count: 1626.

warning: fem!reader only, pussy drunk kenshi, creampie, big dicks, talking during sex, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding king, maybe size kink, cuddle-fucking, missionary, cowgirl, dirty talk, full-nelson.

mary ♡: hope u like it ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes ♡

rules ; masterlist.

SUB-ZERO (BI-HAN).

— despite how he looks and how he talks, bi-han is quite gentle in bed with you and doesn't want to have too much control over you, he knows that he can intimidate you too much and maybe you will become afraid of him, which will literally kill him. he wants to show you his love that he can't put into words, but his gentle touches and sweet kisses will do the trick.

— he's not the loudest during sex, i think he's just afraid to make any sounds, but he wants to hear you all the time, the way your mouth opens and the sounds that come out of it make his cock move inside you even more. if he sees that you like the way he whimpers or moans, he'll never shut up.

– i think he's pretty shameless and will definitely tell you what he wants to do to you and describe it in every color.

— he is crazy about your breasts and how they look in his palms and the way your nipples harden just from his breath elevates his ego to the heavens. bi-han will suck your tits all the time, he just can't stop and wants to do it all the time. loves to run his tongue over it and leave his drool (he's so dirty and needy 100% canon), will probably leave hickeys around your boobs and then stare at them forever. you can be sitting with friends and he'll just say in your ear that he wants to suck your boobs and you'll be like "wtf??? u ok???"

— a fan of eye contact.

— loves to humiliate, but he'll never go too far and bring you to tears, you're too precious to him, so he mixes it up with kind words to let you know you're still the best.

"where's my favorite, slut? hey, eyes on me, baby."

"show me how much you want that cock inside you and maybe i'll make you feel good."

"don't you dare make a sound, got it? or do you want to be heard? you're that dirty, aren't you, honey?"

— he doesn't have a favorite position, anything where you achieve pleasure and love each other is fine, he likes to touch you, so he doesn't like tying you up or too much bdsm, too much spanking that will leave bruises on you or too much hickeys, no matter how much he loves you, he doesn't want anyone to know about your intimate life, but still, the position he uses most often is cuddle-fucking.

— either he's your sweetest lover who is gently pounding into you, kissing the corners of your lips and whispering sweet nothings, or he's your daddy and wants you to moan loudly for him while he's trying to beat the hell out of you and get rid of the stress.

— he is obviously bigger than you and every time you stand next to him and he sees your difference, he gets blown away and you're already on the bed.

— his favorite kinks are size kink(!), voice kink and dirty talk kink.

— the biggest and thickest cock of all three of them, i just know it and i know that his cock is constantly throbbing when he sees you. bi-han knows that before he enters you he needs to warm you up good because well...his cock is really big, i'm afraid it will rip absolute anyone.

— loves to cuddle you after sex and kiss your whole face, he will take good care of you and change all the stuff you got dirty. he wants to fall asleep in your arms and listen to your heartbeat that helps him sleep and think what he did to deserve you.

KENSHI TAKAHASHI.

— i think he's pretty gentle and doesn't want to force you into things. will insist on your wishes and what you want to do the most. he won't mind if you tell him you want to tie him up, he'll be only too happy.

— based on what he can't see, it will be a little hard for him and kenshi will constantly think he's doing something wrong and if he hears that you're hurting, um, he'll go crazy. but i know it won't come to that. kenshi loves you and respects everything you've done for him, so he wants to repay you in the most wonderful ways every time.

— kenshi can't live a day without licking you and tasting you. He loves the way you wiggle his tongue and the beautiful sounds you make, he's in heaven because of you. kenshi dreams of meeting you after a hard day and asking you to sit on his face so you can get rid of the stress and soak his face in your juices. i think kenshi likes any position where he can suck your clit and kiss your folds.

— he doesn't have the fastest pace, more like a medium pace so you can enjoy this beautiful moment. but if you ask him he will go wild, even with a blindfold he will make sure you can't walk normally the next day. he loves you so he will take care of you ♡

— not the biggest fan of hickeys, he likes kissing your skin and saying nice words more.

— words ! kenshi loves it when you talk during sex and you tell him about how good you feel and how his cock was made for your cunnie. he's still not the most confident so he needs your words of encouragement, but he'll be sure to praise you too.

"ahhh, where's my beautiful girl? you're so good for me, thank you, honey."

"come for me, baby, show daddy how much you love him."

"you understand, don't you? you were made for me and i was made for you and it's the best thing that ever happened to me."

— he can cum anywhere, anything you want, he doesn't really care and wants you to like everything, but kenshi dreams of cumming in you and imagines what your child will be like, but...that's another conversation.

— i don't think he has the biggest dick, but he's not the smallest either. he's been with girls before, i'm sure he knows how to handle it and get you shaking.

— kenshi's kinks: daddy kink, praise kink, breeding king, maybe size kink.

— he likes poses where he can kiss your face and he would love to see it and see the emotions you show, but he also wouldn't mind if you ride him aggressively. for him, the top is missionary, full-nelson and maybe cowgirl.

— he may want to try public sex but will never say so, it turns him on that someone will see you and see how well he fucks you, but your bed looks more comfortable still.

— he will take excellent care of you afterwards and will do everything at the highest level. for starters he will lie with you and kiss you on the forehead to let you know how proud he is of you. he will take a bath with you and give you a good bath. he only needs words and nothing else, he is grateful that after everything that happened you are still here and let him love you.

LIU KANG.

— and finally we have reached the most beautiful man. liu kang is a true gentleman and will faithfully wait for you to want to feel all of him, and if you don't want anything, it's okay, he won't pressure you and will instead cuddle with you for a long time.

— he obviously knows how to bring a woman to a euphoric orgasm and he's going to try it out on you. he likes to see you whimpering under him and asking him to move his fingers faster, but he doesn't want to, he likes to see what a mess you're becoming and he hasn't even gotten his cock out yet.

— he likes any part of your body and will idolize everything, but your neck and shoulders have a special effect on him when he leaves kisses and feels the goosebumps on your skin and the way you immediately want more, wow, he's crazy.

— moans for you, makes the wettest noises, whimpers, he does everything and he's not ashamed, why should he keep quiet? you make him feel so good and he wants you to hear it. really, really loves talking to you during and sex and kissing you between words.

"i don't think anyone has ever evoked the same emotions in me as you have, love, i'm so glad i met you."

"do you feel good, baby? do you want me to speed up?"

"baby, you're squeezing me so hard, i'm afraid i'm gonna cum right now, haha."

— he has a lot of favorite positions and he wants to try them with you. i think liu kang practices tying you up, but not too much so you don't get hurt. he likes to fuck you in the missionary position and then watch you ride him fast and fall off from overstimulation.

— even though he looks like a man who likes sex in public places - he really likes it, haha. wouldn't mind pleasuring you in a restaurant restroom, massaging your cunnie while you talk to your friends and taking you on a picnic where he will lick your pussy and then sit u on his face while you gently suck his throbbing cock.

— he doesn't have a lot of kinks or on the contrary too many, i still haven't really figured it out, but he likes - dirty talk, overstimulation kink and riding kink (he likes the way your tits shake when you ride him).

— the most usual medium pace, enjoying your moment and he has no rush, you have forever ahead of you and he will still have time to thrust into you from behind with all his might and pull your hair while you forget how many orgasms you have already gone through.

— the sweetest when the time comes to take care of you after sex. he will change your bed, give you a massage and bring you anything you want. you did a good job for him and now it's his turn to take care of you.

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capslocked · 8 months

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DIPLOMACY

male reader x kim minju

7k words

For those not paying attention - of which there seems to be an increasing number - it’s not that she doesn’t have the pedigree. But just shy of getting into that storied history or into the nitty-gritty of her curriculum vitae, the only thing that really matters is:

"This all seems a little beneath me."

It’s another day of this. Of you, of her, of trying to gather the mien of someone who isn’t utterly disarmed by Minju’s usual, beautiful, challenging self. Which, let’s be honest, is always an uphill battle.

Minju nearly pouts, flipping through a copy of the dossier idly from the other side of the desk in a gesture that reads both bored and dismissive and every little thing it needs to annoy you.

"Look," you offer up, graciously diplomatic all things considered, "it's about finding the right springboard, to something else more… substantial."

"Or to something else, you know, beneath me." Her red lips turn down ever so slightly. She doesn't seem so interested in playing ball on this one. And, for you, amounts to something of a huge problem.

See, Minju doesn't quite understand how the working world really, actually works. That the carrot that's dangled in front of her is your carrot just as much as it is hers - that you stand to lose out just as badly. That it's both of your asses on the line if things fall apart and Minju's shortsighted insistence to only work those certain roles befitting a name like hers puts that all at risk.

"Maybe you can tell me something,” you start, coming across more curt than you possibly intended - but not by much, “how many of your former cohorts have had their career aspirations line up with reality, Miss Kim?"

“I’m picky, not naive,” she sighs, not missing a beat, and you watch her dark hair cascade gently down her shoulder when she reaches a hand back to unfix her loose ponytail from its hair clip.

“You might see how I can get the two confused.”

“Then spare me the lecture,” says Minju.

Though she says nothing else, an unspoken you already get paid too much for that hangs in the air.

The tricky part is that no matter what else Minju does, her contract has some non-negotiable clauses to them that no talent has before, or will likely get afterwards. Things that cannot be broken. Like the requirement of her making x number of media appearances, and she gets to approve all of them.

Or that her agent's take home comes from a fixed fifteen percent of her gross earnings, with further incentives when her roles hit specific milestones. But with her refusing projects like the ones in the dossier before you, it leaves you in the unenviable position of losing out on your guaranteed fixed income or trying to convince your diva talent to do what it is she ought to be doing.

The truth is that there’s quite a long list of things no one has had the guts to say ‘no’ to yet.

And, well, it's rather simple and obvious when you look at her:

Minju is that particular blend of A-lister gorgeous. The special look that’s all kinds of mesmerizing and magnetizing, in full bloom - that makes you feel like you're suffocating in beauty. Like if she said come here, you would go; the type where a single look is all it takes and then - just like that - she's got your number forever.

Because everything about her is tailored - from her clothes to her perfect porcelain features. And they made her that way for a purpose: to sell records. (Which, that's exactly what they did.) You can hardly blame the people in power over there, wanting what's best, in a position where everyone would kill for a taste, or even just a glimmer of possibility.

"I don't suppose the part of the governor’s neglected wife is capturing your imagination.” You push the dossier closer, and she doesn’t so much as look at it. “It’s this year’s big budget political thriller, a shoo-in for awards.”

“You mean the one who ends up in a lot of very steamy shots on the apartment’s rooftop pool. Maybe I’m mistaken, but you can’t really unshow your tits.”

"This isn't about being above, Miss Kim, it's about being well regarded; it’s about proving you’re easy to work with,” you argue. “We could-"

"Find a better use of my time?" she cuts in, closing the dossier shut. There's a long moment in which she's looking you over, her gaze sizing up every little inch.

"Your big break won't happen just because you ask for it." You grimace a bit, hating to tell it like it is, but not really wanting to just coddle her either. "But listen - we work together, one project at a time - we can build up to it."

Minju crosses her arms with a loud hmph. "And what are you going to do if I decide not to accept these projects?"

There’s enough edge in her voice that it gives you pause.

"If," she says again pointedly, a teasing little grin tugging at her lips.

So - actually, another thing: when you start digging into the details, there’s more problems than just what can be seen at the surface. Which perhaps it’s too reductive, but essentially everything between you and the talent sitting on the other side of your desk is not quite so straightforward. It was never about Minju doing the best she could for either of your careers; it was about Minju making sure her needs were taken care of, no matter what.

Months ago, thanks in part to the way Minju filled out this tiny black excuse of a cocktail dress, and as a compromise of sorts, there’s an uncharacteristic mistake you ended up making. Or two or maybe a couple.

Because there’d been the perfect backdrop - an end of year party, beautiful dresses and suits, lots and lots of champagne, the kind of jovial mood that inspired one drink too many - and then you and her, taking off down one of the hallways, towards the exit.

Of course, you ended up exactly where neither of you should have ever been - where the snow was falling gracefully and melting into the pavement, behind a private accessway at the back of the venue, somewhere dark and dingy and dripping with a smell reminiscent of garbage; somewhere your hands had gripped firm fistfuls of Minju’s waist before you shoved her up against the back of the building.

In short:

You remember how she gasped when her palms hit the brickwork, how you figured you may as well give her everything she wants.

(So what, it was one time, you hear yourself explaining, mildly repentant, and to say that it’s complicated the matter is a massive fucking understatement.)

In the interest of full disclosure, you tell her, “what exactly did you have in mind?”

"That maybe," she hums, tongue flicking out over her lips before she purses them thoughtfully. "You should persuade me a little better."

"And let’s suppose, I don’t do any of that," you persist.

"It'd be a shame, wouldn't it, having such a promising future cut short so early? If word got out. From such a respectable agency too, of all places. Couldn't live with yourself," Minju remarks, leaning forward on her elbows until her eyes are level with your own. “Come to think of it, it’s the kind of thing that could totally, like, end your career.”

But as she sits there, arching that perfect brow again, you don't feel so good about the whole thing. You take another look at her - which, your mistakes start there, if nowhere else - at the girl that is somehow not the airheaded starlet she’s supposed to be. No, she’s calculating. A rarity, though you do know the type: here’s a girl who just happened to take her brains for granted in the years she was pampered by the industry - the same one that fattened on her only to later spit her out. And that thought, the look of cold intellect in her eyes and the slight upward curl at the corner of her mouth, has you frozen just a bit stiff.

She takes a key card from her clutch, and throws it onto the desk in front of you.

“Minju,” you caution, and there’s a taste of danger on each syllable of her name - more of a warning for yourself than you can conceive of it ever being for her.

"I'm only suggesting" - she’s watching you nearly fucking choke, amused - "what's best."

And when the lines get muddied between the two of you, that's exactly the issue. What's best. As though this was always Minju's aim. Maybe you've read it wrong, maybe you've gotten too lost in your own delusions, maybe - maybe, it doesn’t matter -

"For work," she adds, at which point her knee bumps yours playfully beneath the desk, leaving the suggestion open, and the implication unmistakable. "Whatever's required."

Here, you should definitely tell Minju no. Say no. Say: you're a professional, and getting involved with her, romantically, officially, personally - whatever - would lead to nothing but disaster. That’d be the responsible thing probably. It’d be generous to say you end up getting even halfway there:

"There's rules against this, you know."

Minju tips her head. “Why ever would there be rules in place against doing your job?”

She thinks that if she feigns being clueless, you'll bite, which -

“Against me folding you over this desk and fucking you until your forget your name.”

"My apologies," she practically coos, knowing that she’s not only made progress, but that she’s wrapping you around her finger. She is a bright girl after all. “You might see how I can get the two confused.”

At that, you figure, the only real move, to be perfectly blunt, is to play Minju at her own game -

To convince her to bend, just a little. To persuade her. So you lean closer, you start to promise, with your face just next to hers:

"You want me to show you how I might handle an uncooperative talent? Would that do it for you, huh?"

And now if that isn’t enough to earn you a whole look, one that’s equally a challenge and a triumph; you watch as she bites the inside of her cheek, not that she can help the smirk creeping across her pretty mouth, a grin full of want and need and all those dangerous, thrilling thoughts that're probably too predictable given your unique sliver of history you’ve already carved out.

She arches that perfect brow of hers once more, toying with the corner of her lip between her teeth.

You navigate around your desk to hand her your pen, with instructions that are perfectly clear: "then for once in your life, be useful, and sign on the fucking dotted line."

And her whole act falls apart just like that.

She’s humming almost pleasantly to herself as you settle in flush behind her, sinking into you just a little when your hand arrives at her waist, another carding through her hair. “Here,” you point out, watching her name materialize in ink on the document - pressing your lips to the nape of her neck each time she finishes penning out an exaggerated curl of a u.

“And here.”

“And here."

She signs again - and again - and that merits a reward; she’s good when she wants to be. Persuasive when she needs to be.

You can hear her murmur your name when your mouth slips just beneath her jaw, when you mark your next path across the bare skin of her shoulder and when she gets started on the last page of the documents, it happens just like this -

The pen drops from her fingers at some point, tumbling onto the desktop with a clack that might as well be a round leaving the chamber of a starting pistol. The office door isn't even locked and you have half a mind to check on the blinds, but the idea of some desperate executive running face first into this scene - where you’re smoothing your hands down the fabric of Minju’s top, down the rise of her jeans, fiddling slowly with the button at her waist - it holds an unfortunate sort of appeal; those blinds, they're mostly closed anyway. And at this hour of the afternoon, well - maybe it’s a little more clear why Minju asked to reschedule this meeting in the first place.

At first, it’s just a few of your fingers dipping under the waistband of her pants, following the curve of her hip, her thigh, then inward, and when you reach down to find her already burning up in anticipation, she inhales sharp, a noise that makes you groan in turn, low, right into the hollow behind her ear. Minju, to her credit, is absolutely willing, so very helpful and - as you pinch the soft, tender skin at her hip, she's saying something but you haven't quite paid it a moment's mind.

Her head turns, eyes looking up at you ever-so-slightly-more-vulnerable than their usual mischief and calculation, and there’s a hint of a demand dancing on her tongue, ready and waiting; she moves her leg upwards just a few inches, settling to rest her knee on top of the tabletop, a calculated little pose, angling her hips so you can sink your hand lower, closer, press your fingers into the lace over her hot cunt even deeper.

Here you figure you're probably ruining the fabric, drenching it in her own slick as you work two, then three fingertips in tight circles. You’ll ruin it, and you’ll ruin more - ruin everything and take what you're owed. As her breath hitches again, in some way that makes your senses come to life: you can feel her skin become taut and tense, gooseflesh rising when your hand untangles from her hair and slides up under her shirt, can hear the steady rush of blood in your ears, her pulse quickening, the heart in her chest beating rapid -

(She can pretend all she wants that this was an attempt at extortion. She can pretend she’s not an easy read; that she doesn’t like being easy for you, when she’s hot and whimpering and aching so wet, creaming on your fingers when you haven’t even gotten her pants off.)

- as if every part of her wasn't made for this, as you lay out your first real proposal:

“Do you remember what I asked you? The first time, right after you signed on, when you were so good for me up against the bricks in the alley?”

Minju chokes out an affirmative when you toy with her pussy where she’s craving the shape of anything, but, boy, are the rough pads of your fingers more than up to the task.

"I remember you almost couldn't answer, you didn't dare want to admit that it's what you needed - isn't that right?"

She moans with a voice thick as honey when a couple more fingers brush up against her wet lips and fuck, she does look breathtakingly good; she's exquisite, she's irresistible - the image of a living wet dream.

"Say it, baby," you croon, her voice beginning to melt a bit at the edges, her own heat burning her resolve up from the bottom up as you tug sharply at a string on her lace.

Minju sighs. Arches into your touch.

Because you’re settling into this torturous pattern, where you draw inwards, closer, so close to the little bundle of nerves, her cunt flexing and rippling hungrily when your fingers flick once or twice around it, only for her to wince just slightly as your fingers trace down towards her entrance to start all over again -

Minju steels herself, drawing in a heavy breath past her teeth. “You asked how rough you could be.”

There's something so painfully wicked, how her voice falters there - but then your own voice is rasping right back in a similar caliber of depravity.

“Hm. That’s pretty close to how I remember it.” After all, you are always taking care of Minju - her concerns, her contracts, her needs. So if she was interested, why the fuck would you hold back on providing exactly what she wants. “But help me out, what did you tell me?”

Another twist - another catch. Another push - another pull. She's going to break so sweetly if you're patient - and, ahh, patience - she's shuddering underneath your touch, squirming against you so nicely that you've already gotten away with a bit too much, this much, these fingers and you and Minju's breathy gasps.

"M-that you could be. That you could-" she stutters, all as you feel her folds start to swell, then quiver, as your thumb drags painfully over her clit again -

And in that moment Minju starts to consider if this were a good idea or not, but her back is already arching against your chest. She's gripping your arm to get you right where she wants you, and the reality of this hits her - a rush of cold clarity through her head just as everything else threatens to spiral into something else, something frantic, something hot and animal and making the muscles at her core begin to clench up.

But you just ease out of her completely, a whine coming out from the back of Minju's throat - her thighs parting further in desperation.

And oh, the disappointment, the sound, it’s incredible - a high pitch - almost a sob -

You slide your other hand in her hair to make sure she's got an earful of your words:

"What was it you said, hm?" you whisper, nipping at the skin on her neck, the side of her jaw - she's shuddering with it when your mouth lingers so close -

“As rough as you fucking want.”

God, the little things that her voice does to you. “Exactly, sweetheart.”

And how's that boundary supposed to hold up and remain uncrossed then, really, if you just give her whatever the fuck she asks for - especially if you have your mouth working it's way around her pulse-point, toying with her as she starts to tense and soften all at once.

In fact, Minju can only stutter out an okay or two as you grind forward, the hard suggestion of your cock nestling up against her rear, just shy of the perfect spot between her legs, and even with still a few layers of clothes between you, the feeling - fuck, the friction, the sight - it’s enough to get you grinning.

Enough to form this near-half-coherent thought: that it’s what's always had you on edge with this girl. She is absolutely every bit your type. Everything about her, right down to the way that she was put together.

All her hard edges and soft curves that should've never really been yours to covet and now, somehow, have become exactly that. Oh, she's the kind of temptation that's better suited for the life of glitz and glamor and the time it requires for indulging in it. You never thought that you would actually ever get here, even as the years have begun to stack up and time starts to grind everything in the back of your head and turn it all over into something like resentment.

If only Minju weren't so good at making you a sucker for those pouty lips and big doe eyes.

Particularly when she's turned around - face to face now - she's the epitome of gorgeous, equal parts aphrodite and adonis; a fucking knockout, her body sculpted and lithe and athletic. Those lines curving out and away like they might tell time, like her thighs could count the minutes and seconds until she's straddling you in your lap with her ankles locked in at the small of your back and you're rutting up into her without reservation, without doubt.

(So what, really, is your goddamned excuse? Your pride? The nature of the beast in you that demands that you must have some degree of control over yourself? The power that your position, here, now, provides? But you can hardly be blamed, even when it's wrong and filthy and so fucking good.)

"You’re stalling." Minju’s leaning back against the desk, tilting her chin up, blinking lazily, and there’s a bit of bite in her voice again.

It takes a minute for it to dawn on you that it must be intentional, trying to get a further rise out of you, the same way your hands have risen up to trace the dips and elevations of her spine, her every vertebra, your fingertips mapping the hollows and rounds of her back. To learn the geography of her shoulders and where, and when, and how to get her breath catching in her lungs, each labored intake of air a little harsher, hastier, hotter than the last.

"You know," you start, spreading your palm across a soft plane of denim, fingers pulling onto the cheek of her ass, dragging her even tighter against you, "I always figured your reputation was a little overdramatized. Most everyone's bound to have a story or two."

She laughs, full of mirth. When the mood strikes, she's the picture of perfection, and she knows it. "Well? Were you disappointed?"

As she coils an arm around your waist to slide your shirt free from the confines of your pants, and as a deft hand slips its way in, you stop asking yourself about right or wrong, good or bad, or about the kisses that land playfully at the corner of your mouth - until you hold her tight and seize her lips, hard, like you mean it - it isn't long before she's fumbling and scrambling with the zipper at your waist.

"That depends," you’re pulling yourself away long enough to say.

"I think I know the answer."

And by the way she shivers a little when you shove up the bottom of her top, the way she's melting into your mouth and demanding more and more and more, Minju does. You think she probably has since the first night that your threads got all tangled up. Especially when she slides off her top - her bra - her jeans - leaving them in a pile that lasts barely a second where it started once you sweep everything off of your desk in one broad, efficient gesture -

There's a thud when a pair of binders and a couple of books hit the floor. Someone exclaiming in recognition, the muffled noise drifting through the office door, and, oh, this would probably be the best moment to remember how painfully thin the walls are; you consider whether to walk over and lock the office door, and when Minju’s fingers run up your sides, you decide you won’t.

Too little too late, you figure.

And before you can take a second to give it the more congruent thought it deserves, Minju opens her mouth: "which, in your professional opinion," a hum and a slur as her nails find their way to your collar, "is well, that the thing I should take," she gets out, unbuttoning you at the cuffs, loosening the last of your shirt, "really," her hands palming over the fabric on either side of the lapels, working their way downwards, "how - how do you think this goes?"

“Oh, Minju.” She’s all but begging you to fuck her and still has the wherewithal to be asking for terms.

Like her fingers aren’t completely down your pants, locking around your hard cock - pumping you with soft, lazy strokes - not too different from how you have her chewing on her lip every time your fingers circle over the entrance to her cunt, tenting the last of her lace all slow and careful.

It’s driving her crazy. She just bites into the edge of her thumb in response.

"Fine. Alright. Let me explain it clearly." You dip a finger into her cunt; the whimper is short-lived when she tightens around you and it hits home, the pressure so delicious that she can barely stutter to keep up.

“A negotiation, of sorts-”

“Yeah, sure, we can call it that.”

The mental picture you have of your length outlined against Minju's tiny fist - as she works it into her hand, steady - it's all almost more than you can possibly bear: the way her long legs stretch out so pretty in front of you, the way her wrist twists with each pass and every bump at the veins of her forearm that is such a damn perfect shade of porcelain white in the dim glow of the desk lamp.

This girl with her pert pink mouth and those lips, the ones that aren't quite touching yours but rather smirking the whole time. (If only you were to make her scream loud enough, because you know she could be so much prettier.)

The thought flits through your brain, unbidden and treacherous -

"Think, fuck - think of this, as a one-way track into your career. Think of me, a guiding hand - if you want to. The key to all this," you continue, spacing the words carefully so you don't falter under the pace Minju is picking up, "is that you're going to need to be compliant. Easy."

"Mm. And in exchange?" she bites, choking down an embarrassing moan.

"Here's the basics." And there, there's no fucking reason for you not to dip the tips of your fingers right on downwards, tap into her soft heat until her hips are arching away from the flat of the desk, searching for more. “Whenever you need me to take care of you, I’m there, however you need it: on my fingers, my tongue, my cock - I’ll make you fucking cum over and over.”

"That sounds," she gasps, losing track of the end of her sentence, rolling herself along the pads of your fingers, taking them deeper into her, "very-very-oh fuck-”

Her grip around your cock releases, arms throwing themselves around your shoulders, holding on tight as she starts to trust you implicitly - to give her exactly what she wants, what she needs - and give herself over to you, to your fingers, circling and circling and circling.

“See, tomorrow,” you start, “there’s an audition,” and when you pull your finger out of her cunt, Minju lets out this sound that’s between a whimper and a whine. Her pretty mouth has dropped open, like she's all out of words, lost somewhere, chasing this. Getting dire.

“It’s this teen soap; they need someone young, someone pretty, do you think you can do that for me?”

She doesn’t answer so much as grab and tug and pull you even closer as the heel of your hand pushes and presses over her clit, just about enough force behind it that, eventually, you begin to feel a certain rigidity through her limbs, how the lines of her face and her faultless features grow more and more focused, fixed and concentrated; her voice reduced to the high-pitched huffs and half-formed syllables of pure and utter desperation.

I can, I can - she’s murmuring - please, yes, I will - putting herself right into your capable hands.

When you feel Minju tightening, flexing around nothing, then seizing and shivering, her pussy throbbing hot and wet and clenching around your finger as it again works deeper inside her, an anguished groan finds its way out from her throat.

And from yours, well -

"Show up," you command, giving her another knuckle, curling it just right - watching as her expression contorts and twists up for all her worth. "Make a good impression. Don't make me fucking beg. Show up, Unreserved. Understood?"

And if her body wasn't making her pleas utterly transparent, she's screaming in agreement. It takes you barely a couple seconds, working up inside her cunt until she's all full-body, fully, blissfully spent. She starts to nod, needy, eyes screwing shut.

“And let’s say, something else pops up. A little racy, a little more gravure, just the right amount scandalous, I need you to keep an open mind.”

When it sinks in what you've said, Minju gives this wail, low and perfect - her cunt throbbing over the pulse at your palm - inches away from cumming and shaking and creaming on your hand. You could ask for anything, you think, and she’d give it to you -

“My PR team,” she gasps out, the consonants of her words fraying at the seams, “it’s up to my PR team.”

“Minju,” you say, priming a loaded question and a half. “Do you trust me?”

She nods, expression readable and open like a book. It starts to set in just about then, how you’re going to fucking ruin this girl.

Your breath runs hot, right against her temple, and you whisper the slightest affirmation, “good girl, I’ll take care of it.”

Because to be fair, you’ve not made it this long in your career without learning how to pull a string - how you might pull up on the sensitive skin straddling Minju’s clit and get her reeling; her pussy flutters in the tight, wet heat, muscles clamping, demanding as you work yourself in deeper and then, when the timing's right, pull out to slide a second finger past the slip of lace she has covering her cunt.

She's this tight, dripping, overwhelming fit - even more than you have yet to discover, to tease and then take, the heel of your wrist landing on her clit in a heavy pattern, circles - circles - circles -

- so you figure: fuck the PR team.

If only they knew how well and thorough you were going to fuck the rules right out of Minju.

That you were going to remind her who's the one in the driver’s seat of her life, of her career, that you would make sure she stays in her lane - the proper lane - that this, you think to yourself, might become a recurring sort of negotiation, the kind she's so shockingly eager to accept.

You'd be doing her a favor, fucking a couple good lines into her head, into her skin, into her cunt.

And soon, before long -

She's gritting her teeth around the shape of your name and giving one last heave against the hard wood of the desk underneath her. It's almost beautiful to watch how Minju crumbles into herself; the way she grinds back onto the digits in her cunt. How you’re dragging her underwear down her thigh, pulling your cock into your fist and twisting her leg around your waist until finally, you press yourself right up against the heat radiating from her cunt.

“I’m going to take good care of you, Minju, don’t worry, I’ll fuck this pussy of yours just right. I'm going to make you shake and cum all over me.”

“Please.” Fuck, she looks at you sincerely - no games, no bullshit - pupils so very blown out with want, with need. You watch her adorable mouth uptick into this faint lazy smile as she tilts her head into your collarbone, lips parting slightly to remind you: “as rough as you fucking want-”

And you sink right in.

It’s all skin-on-skin as Minju practically collapses in your arms; pushing deep past her soaking entrance - your hips slotting together just so, cock engulfed by her tight heat. Minju fucking wails when you drag back from her cunt, slow - so, so agonizingly slow.

You let her recover just a bit, watching her breathing quicken and shallow.

And the word on her lips becomes something reverent, the most indecent prayer, pleading please, please, please let me have it, please fuck me with your cock-

You brace yourself, thrusting back in, and she doesn't wince this time, holding fast to you like you aren’t the one fucking her open and taking her apart.

“God, I - look, this perfect little fucking cunt, look at how you’re stretching around me, Minju,” you’re telling her - promising her really - all of which doesn't count for shit when, once, and then again, and a couple more times after that, your hips meet hers and she starts to break just so slightly around you. “I can’t believe - it’s like you were fucking made for my cock, baby, you’re taking me so fucking well.”

"Now, show me why - why the fuck everyone wants you - wants you to be their-" she's trying, in a fashion all to her credit and her fault. She should probably care more about that raw, unhinged noise you’re making right into the crook of her neck when you bury yourself deeper into her pussy. But in the next moment, with another wild crash of your hips, the tables start to turn.

Slowly at first, and then all at once.

Because the sound you’re ripping from her chest when you start fucking her - truly fucking her - becomes far, far filthier than anything you've ever heard a girl like her make. All of it coaxed out from you working the edge of her pussy open, stretching her, hitting each and every sensitive spot inside her.

Minju tips her head back to stare at the popcorn ceiling and fluorescent lights, brow creasing in the middle, mouth gaping open. You find you might have missed something, when she moves to hold you down, hold you in place with an insistent leg, the back of her heel digging into your ass. As though there were somewhere you might possibly want to go.

It all comes down to something she's murmuring, quietly, harboring this smug lilt like you aren’t fucking her raw and senseless: how maybe the key to unlocking the rest of her potential isn’t all that dissimilar, not as off-brand as you may have been initially worried about. And the notion that both of you might actually be profiting off of this - how it shouldn’t sound as incredible as it does - is doing absolutely fucking nothing to slow the brutal pace you fall into.

"Fuck, just like that," and she's smiling, grinning really, nails biting into your nape - your name and curses and a fuck you or two falling out of her mouth as you pound each short breath right out of her chest.

"The only talent I'm gonna need to show," she manages, dizzy, and with one arm hooking around your waist, she pulls the two of you close, right up against each other. The sound your skin makes, clapping against hers - her cunt tight, pulsing, quivering around you - "is my, my, my-"

Your thumb should have never left her clit, you realize, pressing down on where your cock is disappearing between her legs, pushing up against that bundle of nerves that can get her screaming. That’s how you’ll punctuate your end of the bargain, how you’ll make her cum and cum and cum -

"-talent for being such a-"

There's something ungovernable in you, something fumbling, as you find yourself drawn to her lips like a magnet - claiming them in a kiss that has you both growling with all the intensity you can muster, groaning as her jaw goes slack, surrendering to the fucking. To this hard, solid snap of your hips, a raw fuck forward that pushes Minju against the edge of the tabletop.

It doesn’t matter what she had wanted to say, though it must be evident how easy she can wind you up, and you do your best not to be too gentle. Pushing into her so rough that her breasts, oh-so-delicate, bounce up and down along her chest, nipples tight and rosy, begging to be tasted and played with.

You’re pressing your mouth on hers hard, fucking her harder - fingers digging into the flesh around her thighs and leaving marks and memories, all these reminders you’ll be sure to come back to.

But the fact is that this is your girl in so many ways: needy and a dream in all her curves, and how her waist rocks back, her body fitting so perfectly against yours - you're hooked on all of it. On her - she is temptation made real, in blood and bone and soft, supple skin, so exquisitely touchable, just like the sound that she makes, high and tittering when your thumb starts to work her clit over; each swirl and figure eight sending a jolt through her nerves and straight back into your own spine. It's difficult - hard to focus, you find - when all her exposed skin has these drops of sweat standing in saltwater relief, how it rolls down the plane of her chest and disappears where her waist flares wide.

Minju turns her cheek, mouthing falling open, and asks with a certain helpless pleading, “yes, can you-”

she sighs,

“right there,”

she hiccups,

“please, again,”

she begs,

“again, harder, i’m so close-”

Not before long, the desk is scraping loudly across the carpet, moving right into the next office over, all from where you have your hand trapping her voice back in her throat, palm over where she’s practically sobbing for you to let her cum.

From where you’ve got her locked in tight, lifting her up into your arms, into some perverse, unspoken promise to carry her the rest of the way. To do with her whatever you want.

"I'm going to show you," you're gritting out, "exactly how a professional handles their star, the girl at the center of it all, their top draw - and it's so easy, isn't it? This is - fuck, sweetheart - you're nothing more than a - just a desperate little cockslut who's aching to cum, and it's good - oh so, fucking-"

When that next shiver courses down the length of her perfect form, it's entirely because of you, when her legs are still locked and clamped over you like this, as she sputters and babbles, totally cock-addled and barely managing a coherent thought. “Please, sir, please, fuck-”

And then a keening, sounding low, lost.

“Sir. Please, sir, please just - I just wanna-" Her lips are shaping all these words that never quite materialize - because her cunt is slick, the whole of it hotter and softer than anything else in this goddamn room. Maybe anything else in this whole building. Or in the entire world. It makes her whimper and ache, her voice rising and rising, belting out, need it, need it, please let me cum -

Which -

Minju, oh god, Minju cums, and you are fucked sideways to hell and beyond when her whole body convulses, shakes, every single part of her contracting, contracting - all at once - the way her hands claw desperately onto the blades of your shoulders as the room gets taken up with the scent of her; the sounds she's making are fucked and filthy. She starts to become undone as you double your pace, aiming true - thrusting, pounding, nailing Minju right into the finish.

“Minju, sweetheart, I’m going to cum in you,” you tell her, and it’s not even a question, or a concern. You’re dictating, not negotiating when you say it to her again, when you tell her you’re going to fill her perfect pussy so full with your cum, she'll be hung up on it for weeks.

One long, stretched out moan is all it could ever take; a split second, where everything runs blindingly hot, and you bury yourself as deep into her pussy as you possibly can.

Cumming so much, spilling out deep inside - this heavy flood of cum that pools warmly at the back of her cunt and fills every corner of Minju - she whines and sobs and tells you it's too much, please, all this hot and thick white cum pumping right into her -

As you throb into her, she's having a hard time saying anything beyond your name, actually, because if anyone can, if anyone would, if Minju can trust anyone and anything in this world more, it would be you.

Her chest shudders and shudders, and she kisses you in a vain effort to quiet her own body, to quiet yours. She has all this faith she's pouring right down your throat as you rock the last of your orgasm into her twitching heat, spilling and spilling and spilling, not caring about the wetness leaking onto the carpet. Not bothering to mask the obscene slickness, how everything gets completely fucking sopping between the two of you.

When she's practically drooling over you, eyelids growing heavy and fluttering, Minju sags heavily into the bend of your arms. In that shallow heaving and gasping for air that bathes the both of you - blissed the hell out, a lazy tangle of limbs - and without warning she turns to speak into your neck, her breath cooling, like a whisper of a dream:

“Okay, and already… I guess this isn’t entirely-”

“Completely terrible,” you offer after you swallow the dryness in your mouth.

Minju smiles into your shoulder. “And sir, in the spirit of honesty and transparency, I think I - I think I really did want - this - you - the entire thing…”

You stop her there, right in the middle of that particular train wreck. A drop in your voice, and the message is clear, when your mouth works its way to hers.

(No more of her talking like that.

Besides, she looks even better on your lips like this, and fuck, doesn’t Minju taste like you will have to remember, like a little bit like desperation, but only in the way that it has you both completely hopeless, hanging on to every whimper as your cock slides lazily about her well-fucked pussy, a bit deeper, a bit further.)

Like there is something far beyond professionalism guiding the hand with which you hold her hip and let her ass spill through the gaps of your fingers.

It’s all mixed up, how in this exact moment you figure this is a terrible, terrible idea, the worst kind of agreement, this pact - because no one could look at you, could look at either of you and have any doubts in mind now. But you can see it, how you’ll both wear this little agreement like the most beautiful stain in your histories. Even though it might, conceivably, cost one or both of you dearly at some point in time.

And yet, still.

"Will you - can I - can you..."

She's clinging onto you with all her remaining energy, like she wants to see it through.

But her eyes - the poor thing - her expression is melting into this haze, her face contorted in something like pain and something else entirely: a different kind of satisfied glimmer. It's almost unreadable how that sharp mouth softens at the edges as her cunt gives this small flutter over the head of your cock, as you pump her so full, threatening to overflow.

And in your ear, you catch this little whisper. It says, “please, let me show you,” she's practically purring, “let me, let me - I'm gonna clean you up now, lick my cum right off you.”

It's true. Minju can act and perform and pose and make faces, for a shit ton of people - but she’ll play-act any facade you might ask her to, and she'll do it for you - because, this time around, all you ask her is this:

To be yours.

To be a good girl for you, an obedient little thing, in your private audience, away from the cameras and the lights, away from everyone.

When her knees hit the carpet, she is perfectly between your legs, palms on your hips and fingers splaying out against you.

And when she tries her damnedest like this, no one should bother ever pretending to think differently - least of all, you - and certainly, not while your cock is hardening again in the wet heat of her mouth, under the curl of her tongue, the gentle touches of her fingers -

How can anyone ever bring themselves to tell her that she isn't completely, indisputably the greatest.

(The very, fucking best.

And in every other way: the woman of your dreams. A woman, you realize, you ought to endeavor to keep, in all manners, and forever.

Minju, who could probably do anything, and you, who just might be able to give it to her.)

#minju smut #izone smut #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #male reader smut #izone minju smut

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neesieiumz · 7 months

Text

catharsis || ──────── s. aizawa

day five — SOMNOPHILIA / VOICE KINK / DADDY KINK

『 synopsis 』 after a long patrol, your husband comes with an ache only you can sate, only to find you deep in sleep

『 warnings 』 — 18+. sm*t. minors do not interact. husband!aizawa. pro-hero!reader. p*orn with very little plot. that's why it's shorter than my normal fics. established relationship. she is a natural disasters hero. and he has his normal job. somnophilia. voice kink. daddy kink. he is very much in love with you. like borderline obsessed with you. and vice-versa as well. female reader. black-coded reader but anyone can read. he calls you a slut but you enjoy it. sweet aftercare. was this self indulgent? i plead the fifth, how bout that?

『 writers notes 』 honestly feel like i overdid with the daddy kink but here we are! hope you enjoy it and you won't get a new ktober fic until next week tuesday! check the masterlist!

『 word count 』 3.0k

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The night had fallen upon your home before you had known it, the twinkling stars gazing down at you, the full moon’s brightness fully mocking your somnolence. You could no longer stay up for him, no matter how much you tried. You had waited for long before sleep was beginning to overtake your body, and you knew this was another night you’d go without being able to see your husband.

Your husband was Eraserhead to the world, but at home, he was Shouta to you. Your Shouta. The two of you were heroes, after all, that was how the two of you met. You knew the long nights that came with the job, especially with him being a teacher as well.

Dressed in a thin two-piece set, in a pale baby blue, you lay on your bed, covered in your warm sheets, with nothing but the sounds of your automated fan blowing cool air into your room, combatting the heated summer night outside. With school out, and your husband only getting a reduced check from his main source of income, he had no choice but to join up in nightly patrols, his main specialty when it comes to hero work.

The two of you found each other while working patrols late at night, you being a new transfer from a faraway city on the outskirts of Japan, where natural disasters were then likely to occur.

“Eraserhead, what kind of name is that?” Your smile was wide, contagious even.

The two of you stood in an alleyway, with him hanging upside down from it, his eyes obscured by the bulky yellow goggles he constantly wore.

“Trust me, I was definitely not the one to make it.” His voice was deep and grave, it slightly echoed through the alley.

“That means whoever made the name must have been pretty special huh?”

It was silent for a moment, and for a moment, you thought you hit a nerve, anxiety rising within you.

“Yeah, I guess you can say they were.”

You gleaned up at him, seeing some semblance of a smile on his face. This caused your own smile to widen slightly, standing up straight.

Your marriage was a private one, one with family and friends only, a short, quiet, and intimate event. The two of you only had a week off for your honeymoon, during the time of which students were out for school to not mess with his schedule. The two of you are extremely busy, with his job as a hero course teacher and of course your own as a rescue and natural disasters hero. The two of you barely had time for each other, easily taking what you could with each other. You knew what came with dating and eventually marrying another hero, especially with someone like your Shouta.

You lay across the bed, sighing as you relaxed into the comfort of the comforters, onto the softness of the mattress. Closing your eyes, hoping to bring a new day, hopefully with your husband’s arms comfortably snug around your waist.

— — — —

You heard a squeak first.

Your eyes barely cracked open, still heavy with sleep, as the squeaking sound got louder and longer for a moment and then stopped altogether. You didn’t move, your heart racing and beating drums within your chest as the sound of muffled footsteps got closer and closer to your bed. You could hear ruffling, like clothes were being moved before the familiar fresh scent of mahogany and lavender, your body relaxing as you did so. You opened your eyes a little bit further, being able to see the clock on your bedside table, seeing the number 2:34 glowing from the digital clock. This was a first, you never woke up when he came home from patrols, you always found yourself being wrapped up in his arms when you woke up in the morning. You tried to find the confines of sleep, hoping to easily slip into it, knowing you’ll wake up in your husband’s arms once more.

Creaakkk…

His footsteps got closer and closer, his scent slowly gaining intensity as something within went off, like chilling tingles crawling up your spine. You could feel his eyes staring holes into you, possibly scanning your entire form wrapped up in your blankets. A familiar tingling sensation began to erupt and spread through you. It had been months since the last time he touched you, the two of you being completely swamped with work. Suddenly, the bedframe creaked, as you felt the mattress underneath you slightly dip. He was so close to you, his knee grazing up against your back, the blanket being the only thing that kept the two of you lightly touching. Droplets of water, possibly from his shower that he took when you were still deep in sleep, dripped down onto you, feeling the cool, wet spots from your blanket. You kept yourself as still as possible, sleep still dancing in your eyes. And then, all of a sudden, he crouched down, the bed creaking along as he did.

It took all your self-control not to gasp as you felt his erection pressing up against you. Even with the blanket, you could still feel it. You held back the slight gasp out a slight moan as he pushed his hip in between your bottom. He let out a hefty groan, his head falling right beside your own, his lips right next to your ear as he did. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, feeling yourself beginning to drip down your thighs and stain your thin shorts. All of your self-control was slipping piece by piece, your body aching and wanting for him. Your breathing became shaky, you know he could hear it, and yet he continued his actions. You could feel his lips slowly press up kisses along your cheek and jawline. His nose nestled itself in between your ear and your hairline that peeked from the night-time scarf you wore, before taking a deep breath in, taking your freshly washed scent, your body wash, as well as your nighttime hair products.

“You smell so good,” his voice wasn't strained, as if he was holding back as well.

“I missed you so much,” he spoke again, the bed creaking again as he moved, his hands beginning to move down, thumbing along the hemline of your shorts.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here as much, snowflake,” he mumbled in your ear, his hand now officially slipping down into your shorts.

His fingers slipped in between your legs, two of his fingers easily spreading your lips apart, cool air hitting your clit, causing your body to tremble ever so slightly. Your mouth is slightly agape, drool slowly dripping out of your mouth onto your pillow. His fingers easily spilled into the mess in between your legs, pressing up against your clit. Carefully, he massaged circles into you, every movement slow and deliberate, as if he didn’t want to wake you. He probably didn’t wake you up. You had just gotten home from aiding a beach town devastated by a hurricane, pulling people out from rubble, and creating emergency service tents.

“I know you just got back, but I…” he trailed off on his words as his fingers slipped further down, sliding in between your labia.

“I can’t hold myself back, fuck.”

Your husband sounded so pretty, his voice straining every syllable as his hips ground more and more into you. By now, your shorts were a mess, and your underwear soaked with your juices. No longer able to hold yourself back, you softly pushed your hips back against his fingers, and hard-on. He most definitely felt your movements, letting out a massive groan as his dick twitched underneath his boxers.

“Naughty girl, such a slut even in your sleep…” his chuckle echoed against your bedroom walls, as his fingers dipped in even further, one of them pressing into your hole.

“Everytime I have to stay away from you, whether it be my job, or your own job, I can feel myself descending into madness–” his words suddenly cut off with a guttural groan, his hips suddenly giving off a sharp thrust.

“I am obsessed with you, you know that right?”

Tears dripped down your eyes, staining your pillows as his words enchanted you, sending great shocks of ecstasy through you. You could feel yourself trembling, only aching for him more and more. His own boxers were sticky with pre-cum, you could feel it oozing onto your satin shorts, slowly mixing in with your own soaked juices. His hand slowly pulled themselves away from your cunt, the sudden loss of pleasure causing your emotions to deflate before feeling that very same hand pulling at the hem of your shorts. You kept as still as possible as his large hands pulled your shorts down around your ankles, revealing your wet pussy.

“Agh, fuck,” is all he could say as he suddenly sat up for a moment.

You could hear shuffling in the background, most likely him taking off his boxers, hearing some kind of fabric being thrown in the air and landing on the floor. You felt his hands back on you, before feeling the tip of cock press up against your cunt, slipping and sliding in between your lips, gathering some of your juices. With a final swipe, before you knew it, you felt him press the tip at your pussy, your body trembling as he began to push it.

“Baby, baby fuck–”

He pushed himself deeper into you, your eyes squeezed shut, your cunt throbbing around him.

“Missed you, missed you so fucking much,”

You had never heard him ramble like that, his usually deep gravelly voice seeped in desperation. His hands gripped at the meat of your thigh, holding your place as he rutted his hips into you. Your lips parted, and the entire area underneath them was drenched with sweat. Your hands tightly squeeze the comforter. The heat was overtaking you, a violent intensity grappling at you. Your thoughts that once ran wild soon became filled with one thought, Shouta. Everything about him was different, the way his voice hit your ears, each syllable easily ripping a new reaction out of you. It was only a matter of time before you lost control before he knew you were awake, feeling everything he was doing to you.

“My wife, my pretty wife,” he groaned, his hands moving up and about.

“How could I fucking stay away from you?”

With his strength, he moved you about with ease. You no longer lay at your side, but instead, your knees dug into the mattress, your stomach lying against the bed. He pressed his hand against your back, your back arching up against him. He never pulled his cock out of you, staying snug inside you as he positioned you to where he wanted you to be.

As soon as you were in position, he held no mercy towards you. Pounding away at you, like a man with nothing else to live for at that moment but to ravage you. Tears welled in your eyes as absolute euphoric pleasure took over you, it came as quick as lighting. With the sudden overload on your senses, your control over your actions snapped.

A moan slipped out of your lips, the sound causing him to falter for just a moment. With the wet sound of skin against skin, he leaned down once more, moving his long hair out of his face, finally allowing him to see the tears streaming down your face, your eyes slightly opened, rolled to the back of your head, mouth agape with spit dripping down.

One of Shouta’s hands stayed at your hips while the other suddenly reached down, wrapping around underneath your chin, pulling your body upwards with ease. Your hands propped you up as he pulled your head back, your eyes locking. The position allowed you to see just how frenzied your husband looked. His thick fat cock plunging mg into you, each movement only escalating him more and more.

“How long have you been awake sweetheart? Huh, liked what I was doing to you? Hmm?”

You tried to speak, but the only thing that could slip out of your mouth was pleas if you could even call it that.

“Daddy, Daddy-fuck, it’s too–fuck!” You screeched, gripping at the pillow as your eyes squeezed shut, overcome by the sudden frenzied thrusts your husband was sending your way.

“Dirty little slut, letting me think you were asleep ? How long were you awake for?”

For a moment, you couldn’t answer him, only focused on the effervescent volcano building up within you. All of a sudden, his thrusts slowed down, causing you to whine as you looked back at his teary eyes.

“I asked you, how long have you been awake?”

“Since the moment—ahh– you walked in! Since the moment, you walked in, please don’t stop fucking me, Daddy!”

Shouta suddenly pulled all the way out, your cunt only squeezing around the tip of his fat cock, before slamming it back into you, almost hitting and bruising your cervix. Both you and his own moans and groans echoed into the air, mixing together in a beautiful melody. His hand left your chin, your body flopping forward for a couple seconds before suddenly feeling your arms being jerked back. Your moans became scream-like as he grabbed at both of your wrists, suddenly pulling your arms back.

“Fuck,” he cursed, hissing as he pummeled into you, “so fucking tight–huh, you like the way I fuck you, huh?”

You could barely get any words out, shaking your head vigorously, clenching around him. Every plunge into your cunt devoured you, your husband’s moans and groans had your body trembling. His growls reverberated within your ears, only causing your body to curl in pleasure.

“I said,” he suddenly cut into your thoughts, your body jerking up even further, “you like the way I fuck you, slut”

“Yes, daddy!”

Shouta’s chuckle was deep, and his thrusts only overwhelmed you even further. You relished in the way your skin took the pain, feeling the bloom and sting tingle all over you. If you could blush, you knew the bottom of your thighs would be blooming red. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, your eyes rolling out the back of your head. All of a sudden, Shouta dropped your arms, your body flopping, back arching into the bed as his hands gripped at the flesh at your hips and butt. His thrusts became erratic in nature, his already broken-down composure crumbling even further. You could hear his breathy words, soaking in the neediness laced within them.

“Missed you so fucking much, my wife– my fucking wife.”

“Look so fucking pretty, so fucking senstive f’ me.”

“Missed this pretty fucking pussy, hate how much I have to leave you–fuck!”

Shouta’s body lurched, towering over your own. You could feel his sweat dripping down from his body, falling like light rain into your almost bareback, your thin night-top crumpled up at your bosom. Your hands crumpled up the blankets and sheets underneath you, the feeling of your tongue slightly grazing against the fabric. Your words soon dulled out, the only thing on your tongue was your monas and coherent words putting together the title you called him in bed. You could feel your cunt tightening up around him, like a ticking time bomb going off within you.

“Such a sweet fucking pussy– fuck–” his body suddenly lunched, the bruising grip he had on your hip tightening.

Your body convulsed, shaking in his hold as your mind went blank white, tears streaking out of your eyes as your climax ripped out of you, your juices spilling and ripping all over him.

“Daddy!—” your final words cut, your voice echoing against the white walls of your room.

With a final grunt, you felt your husband slump over, feeling his dick twitching inside of you, painting your walls white. Soon, the only thing you could hear was the sounds of your heavy breathing, both your and Shouta’s as well. You let out a whimper as you felt him pull out his cock out of you, leaving you with withdrawal. Without him letting go of your hips, your legs fully slumped onto the wet bed. With hands still around you, shrieking as he swept you up from the bed. You held onto him as your husband slowly got off the bed, turning your head to see him slip into your bedroom’s bathroom, using one hand to turn the light on. He placed you on the toilet, before walking to your sink. You couldn't help the soft smile that slowly appeared on your face as you heard the faucet turn on.

He walked back over with a rag, slowly opening up your legs as you both felt and saw your cum mixed with his, dripping down your inner thigh. He moved the warm rag against your skin, letting out a short gasp as he grazed the rag against your sensitive cunt, cleaning up the main source of the mess. You heard your husband let out a breath of a chuckle, seeing a ghost of a smirk etched on his face. Your soft smile turned abashed as your hand reached up, smacking him slightly on his shoulder. Your brick house of a husband didn’t even flinch from your smack, continuing to clean you up. Soon you could feel nothing but the touch of water on your legs. Once finished, your husband slowly pulled your soaked shorts down the rest of the way, before tossing them into your laundry hamper. With nothing else, he carried you back to the bed.

The two of you slipped underneath the sheets, his arm easily wrapping your waist as he pulled you close. You had no use of the pillows, using your husband’s naked chest, humming at the warmth that radiated off of his body. Before you knew it, you had laid a soft kiss against the beefy shoulder of your husband, before snuggling back into him. You both heard and felt him move, smiling as you felt a soft pressure against the top of your head, feeling the sensation of lips. With that, you drifted off to sleep, slowly hearing your own husband’s snores echo into her.

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kakujis · 4 months

Text

ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.

and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.

synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.

warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.

ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k

@enchantedforest-network

an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.

gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back.

but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you.

he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad.

imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him.

“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.”

he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest.

the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility.

you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.

“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!”

but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right?

you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction.

for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root.

“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually.

you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t.

he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.”

“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door.

he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights.

gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles.

when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.

hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening.

maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know.

there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.

okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart.

”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.”

to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that.

he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.

his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow.

“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face.

a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away.

the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you.

“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind.

he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely.

you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass.

his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin.

hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely.

“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs.

the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy.

you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet.

he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying.

it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.

he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.

your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.

"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks.

“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours.

“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair.

“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him.

“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.

he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it.

“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling.

“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”

“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still.

“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home?

he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?”

you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea.

“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up.

you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“

“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.”

you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way.

your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet.

you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.

“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?”

“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again.

“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.”

you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in.

“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.”

“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets.

“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”

gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage.

huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night.

but that’s not-

it is. check your phone.

oh, i guess it… is?

c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day.

and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going.

leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time.

it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out.

but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again.

his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.

“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength.

“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember.

with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine.

it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him.

“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you.

even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans.

“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”

you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up.

“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code.

his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end.

he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy.

you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off.

“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands.

he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image.

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?”

you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze.

your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.”

gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.

but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.

with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?”

“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love.

“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.”

“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.”

the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?”

you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again.

he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far.

“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?”

you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs.

“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.”

“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.”

“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.”

there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock.

“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too.

that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?”

you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek.

“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.”

he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time.

“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.”

“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.”

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader smut #cw yandere #cw cheating #cw dubcon #pibby writing

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mrsrdlw · 2 months

Text

The “first date”

summary: After figuring out you liked each other, you and Eddie started dating. Your first interaction wasn’t the way he planned, so he decided to take you out on a proper date.

warnings: MDNI 18+; virgin!reader; fluff; some nerdy references (star wars troop); oral!fem!receiving; shitty writing- sorry about that.

author’s note: Hey guys, i saw how much everyone enjoyed Eddie’s Valentine story so i decided to make a second part. It took me longer then i thought to post this, but my classes at college just started so i’m still adjusting my schedule.

After what happened, you spent the rest of the morning talking in bed. You couldn't believe you actually got the courage to make a move on him. Even if it was to offer a little help with his "issue". And this was one of the many things that surprised you today. The fact that Eddie liked you back was insane. In your mind, Eddie only saw you as a girl friend. A girl he could talk about everything and nothing. Of course sometimes you caught him looking at you in was different way, but you didn't want to get delusional.

And for Eddie, he was meaning to make a move on you since he realized he was head over heels for you. But he honestly thought you would say it was way too weird to be with him this way. In a romantic way. But what is best then dating your best friend. The only thing that changed was the intimacy of things. So that's why he'd never said anything. Till this day.

"How come both of us liked each other but never did anything?" Eddie asked with one arm under his head and the other wrapped around your waist. You were laying on his chest, listening to his heart beating. You don't know how to feel about this yet. Forty minutes ago, you were still "just friends". And now you're all over each other.

"I guess i was just so scared to lose my best friend that I stayed quiet. It was better to have you in that way than not having you at all." You were being honest with yourself and with him, trying to figure it out why have you kept these feelings as a secret.

"Well i'm glad you released your horny devil today" That made you laugh and he joined you. "But to be honest, it's not how i imagined."

"What do you mean?" You got up on your elbows to see his face, a little scared from his confession. Didn't he just said that he liked it?

"I actually imagined that i would have the guts to ask you out and take you in a very nice date. Very romantic. And then, after the normal stuff normal people do, i could actually try to kiss you. But i guess we're not normal." With your eyes locked, he caressed your cheek.

"Yeah, here we start being naughty!" You said in a playful tone with a wicked grin that only made him laugh. You always loved his smile.

"I guess because we took things a little too fast, this is still kind of... unbelievable for me. Do you feel it too?" You asked, concerned you're the only one feeling this.

"Yeah. Kind of. It feels like it's a dream, right?" He asked and you nodded. "But i'm sure this is going to be as normal as last night was. It's just a matter of time. Also, just in case you didn’t realize it yet, you're my girlfriend now lady, you're stuck with me."

"Oh no! What am i gonna do?" You got out of his chest dramatically and he grabbed you again making you laugh

"Really sweetheart, i don't want you to think you'll have to act differently or anything like that. I don't want you to. I like you the way you are. All goofy and funny and sweet ." He said looking at your lips

"Look at you, all over me, aren't ya?" You said as if you weren't feeling the same

"Yeah, you got me."

After that day, you've been dating, and you couldn't be happier. You waited the whole week for saturday, which was the day of your first official date. That's how Eddie called it. Of course, he didn't want to forget what happened in that morning. But he wanted you to feel extra special. Not just some random girl.

So, he decided to take you to the drive in. This events normally happened at summer, but it was just what he wanted. Something simple, but romantic, where you two could spend time together, watching movies and maybe make out in the middle of it. It was a part of your routine together, watching movies. So, in his head, this would make you both very comfortable with the whole situation of the 'first date'.

He parked his van in front of your house right on time. He pressed the doorbell and there you were. With a cute sweater and a skirt. He loved when you wore skirts. It made your legs look so tempting.

"What do you think? Fancy enough for you mister?" You said looking down at your clothes.

"Oh my lady, you look very fancy. Come on, give me a twirl." You did it and, dramatic in his own way, he put his hand on his chest "You look amazing, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Eds" He always loved when you called him like that. Now, it was even more special.

He drove you both to the location. Even though there was a lot of cars in front of you, you had a great view of the screen. It was only ten minutes before the movie started, so he went to buy you some snacks and drinks to survive through the night. It was a marathon of star wars. The three movies. "A New Hope", "The Empire Strikes Back" and "Return of the Jedi".

The sun was starting to set when he came back. His curls in the golden light just made him look more like an angel to you.

"Here you go. I'm pretty sure we can survive with this, but if you want more, just tell me, a'right?" He insisted on buying the food, not letting you pay for anything

"That's perfect, thanks!"

Through the first movie, you didn't say a word, trying to understand everything in the movie. You always found it very confusing. Alright, maybe you were containing yourself to not put your hand on his thigh or your head on his shoulder.

Eddie also stayed in silence, too anxious to do something and fuck up the night. It was not his thing, getting anxious about girls. It was actually something he was confident. But with you, was a whole different story. He wanted to be closer to you. He was trying to find a way to get you to stay closer to him without being desperate. So he started putting one hand in your thigh. Your warm skin contrasted with his cold hand. He didn't missed the way your eyes went wide the second he touched you.

They gave a break of ten minutes to start the second movie. Now it was dark outside.

"Are you sure you don't want anything else? There is a big line there but i can go, if you want." He still had his hand on your tight.

"Yes, there is enough here." You assured him. You could see he was nervous. He’d made the first move… you could only follow his lead. "I'm just wondering here. This is a date, right?"

"Yes..."

"Don't you think this big space between us is useless? You can get closer Eddie." You said leaving his cheeks with the cutest shade of red

"I'm sorry, i didn't wanted to be too desperate" He said putting his arm around your shoulder and, without thinking too much, you placed your head on his shoulder. Eddie was in heaven. He had the girl of his dreams right by his side.

In the middle of the second movie you were still in the same position. You decided to move but, with the sudden shift, you exchanged looks. For the first time of the night, you were inches away from his lips. You couldn't help but want to kiss him so bad. Feeling the same as you, Eddie placed his hand on your cheek and brought you closer until your lips met. His lips were soft. His scent invaded your nose.

Your kiss changed from passionate to desperate very quickly. Your hands got greedy, wanting to touch him everywhere you could. In need to breathe, you separate. Panting in each other's mouth, Eddie hold your face with his both hands.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, i think we can't stay this close. I can't hold myself." He said making you smile.

"I don't think we're going to be able to pay attention on the movie anymore." Giggling, you hold his hands. "What if i said that i don't want you to control yourself?"

He separated a bit more so he could look inside your eyes. His eyes were wide open, shocked.

"I know you wanted to be a gentleman and all, but i've been thinking about this for the whole week. And remember that little horny devil? He's greedy now. More than ever." You said pressing your tights together. You weren't lying. Since he said he was going to take you on a date, you've been expecting for all the things that could happen. And you wanted to.

He was speechless. It was cute.

"I know, maybe i'm being too excited about everything. But i want it and i thought that if i had to wait for you to make a move, we would do it on the seventh date or something" He giggled at that. You were right, he thought. He wanted that too. But he would never force you to do something he knows that you didn't have much experience and you could be a little insecure. He wanted you to feel safe. He finally said something.

"Are you sure? I told you, remember? We don't have to do anything you don't want to. Especially when we're in this kind of ‘first date’ situation where we feel like we have to do stuff." You kissed him again. All you wanted was him.

"I'm sure. You said yourself remember. We’re not like the normal couples."

"Really? You know, we're in a public place ma'am. You little perv." He said making you both laugh

"So... What are your moves, huh? Gonna do it here with my clothes on or you're going to take me to the back?" You pulled his shirt to you and kissed him again.

He took your hand and pulled you to the back of the van. There was some pillows and blankets on the back.

"You were planning to do this?" You asked getting closer to him again

"I was going to take you to stargaze, actually. But you turned me on now. We'll do it later, kay?" And he kissed you.

Your kiss, like before, was hot. Craving for each other's touch. You couldn’t help but smile at the situation. Two horny teenagers in the back of a van making out like your life depends on it. Your hands travel through his chest down to his lower belly, pulling his shirt up.

"I honestly don't believe you when you say to me you're a virgin" You giggle to his reaction but stoped immediately. With his shirt off, his bare torso was in front of you. The black ink contrasting with the pale skin. You could keep looking at him shirtless for hours. But you wanted something else.

He changed your positions and looked in your eyes one more time, asking for your permission. You give it to him not thinking twice. So he takes your sweater and skirt off, leaving you only with your underwear. Thank god i piked matching ones today, you think to yourself. He kept looking to the white cotton set you chose.

“They’re pretty cute” He said earning a slap from you. “Sorry. I meant it, though.”

Smiling at him, you pulled him closer again by his necklace hanging above you only to stop inches from his lips.

“Why don’t you take ‘em off and see how cute i am without any clothes?” You said proud of yourself for being this bold. His reaction was priceless.

His hands were caressing you carefully, every move with love and affection. With you naked in front of him, his instinct was to drown himself in your neck, your chest, belly. Kissing all over your skin, making you squirm. You could feel his body heat hovering over you. Too overwhelmed by his actions, you try to take his pants off. You needed him.

“Easy there. I think we have plenty of time sweetheart.” He said taking your hands in his. He only laughed at the way you pouted. “I want to make you feel good. So why don’t you lay here and relax?” He dropped your hands, not before kissing them, and went down on your body. “It’s the only thing i could do after what you did for me last week. You were so good.” His warm breath hovered your mound and you twitched.

Not wasting any more time, he licked your clit and you gasped. You’ve never got head before. This was a new different thing for you. But oh, how you loved it. You’ve only felt some kind of pleasure there by your own fingers. But the way Eddie’s tongue kept moving and twisting around, it was a new addiction to your list. Your hands were attached to the blanket under you. You were trying so hard to not let any sound slip from your lips.

“Does it feel good?” He changed his tongue for his fingers and smiled to see you struggling to keep quiet. Not able to speak, you only nodded. Deciding to push things a little bit, he thrust his tongue inside you and you couldn’t hold the moan that came from your throat. Eddie lost his mind. He grew his movements faster than before, wanting to hear that again. He was glad that you only let them out now, or he would’ve cum in his pants by then.

Everything was so good. His tongue and fingers on your pussy and his free hand pressing your hip down so you kept quiet in place. His burning gaze on you, his hair tickling your thighs. His hot breath coming out of his nose and hitting your mound. You couldn’t take it anymore. You stopped him and pulled him up. He was confused until you kissed him. You could feel your taste on his tongue and how his chin was wet by your own slick.

“I-I need you inside me” You said gasping for air. Eddie felt his cock twitch in his boxers. Your voice was hoarse by pleasure.

He took off his jeans and boxers, almost falling down. You giggled at his tongue poking out while he searched through his wallet for a condom. “I hope this is not in there for five years. You know, condoms can expire” You joke trying to act casual seeing his dick again.

“Ha ha, very funny missy.” His voice full of sarcasm only made you laugh. He was crawling his way up to you when you both heard it. Dart Vader’s imperial march was playing. Probably the last movie had just started. You cracked, laughing hard at the situation. You even forgot where you were.

“Who are we kidding, of course in our first time having sex, Dart Vader is going to be marching towards us. It’s your fault” He said playfully

“My fault?! Why?” You asked amused

“Because you’re goofy. There’s no other reason.” You looked inside his eyes. Both of you still smiling. You just had to squeeze his arm so he knew he could move. And that’s what he did.

Slowly, his ran his tip against your wet folds and thrusted inside you. You closed your eyes, feeling his length stretching you open. It burned, making tears swell up in your eyes. Once he bottomed out, you both moaned. Giving you a few seconds to get accustomed to this new feeling, he caressed your waist, grounding you back to him.

He started to thrust slowly into you. It felt like your lungs were out of air. With each thrust of his hips, that started to get a rhythm. The muscles of his arms were flexed, his necklace was swinging, and the hands that before were caressing you, were now holding your hips for goddamn life.

“Holy fuck, you’re so tight” His eyes closed for a second, trying to hold his load a little longer. You watched every move of his. He looked amazing. It didn’t take much time for his dick to reach that spot you struggled to find. It drove you crazy. You arched your back and that made Eddie go faster. You were biting your lip but it wasn’t working anymore. If there was anyone around the van, they would probably hear your moans.

Eddie was also a mess. He wanted to freeze this moment in his mind forever. You looked perfect to him. The sounds you were making, his eyes were rolling back. Your boobs were bouncing up and down with each thrust of his. He looked down where your bodies met and saw the bulge in your lower belly, he didn’t know how long he would take.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart” He pressed kisses on your neck. You weren’t able to talk, but you pulled his hair bringing him closer to you, if that was possible. He groaned feeling you clench around him. He could feel how close you were. Once again, he massaged your clit bringing you to the edge. “Come on princess, cum for me. Just let it go” and with that, you were gone.

“Fuck Eddie” Was the only thing you said.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie

You could only think of him. Your nails scratched his back, your feet pressing on his but so he could go even deeper. Your orgasm washed all over you. With you clenching impossibly tighter around him, Eddie was also gone, cumming hard, biting on your shoulder to control his grutal moans.

When your breathing went back to normal with time, he came out of you taking off his condom and laying by your side.

“You think the van bounced too much?” He said breaking the silence. You laughed at his silliness.

“No. Otherwise people would have come here to ruin everything.” You look at him but he was already looking at you. “They might’ve heard us, though.”

“Nah, they’re nerdy people. They’re probably fantasizing about princess Leia now.” As if if wasn’t a nerd too. “You want to get out of here and go stargazing” He said putting a lock of hair behind your ear.

“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” You pecked him on the lips and got up to put your clothes back on.

And that’s how you wrap up the night. He drove you both to a place where you could see the stars. You kept talking and eating the rest of your candy from the movie. Your first date couldn’t be more perfect than that

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zeldasnotes · 6 months

Note

Which moon signs are the most carefree and which are the least carefree? Thank you!

I will answer based on my opinion and what Ive seen so it wont be true for everyone. Also aspect, degree and house placement plays a huge role.💗

Most carefree:

Aquarius Moons are very emotionally detached from what Ive noticed so they are usually kinda carefree. Depends on other aspects tho.

Sagittarius Moons i feel like are just all over the place and cant stay in one place for too long or care about people/things too much because their whole nature is about fleeing and going to the next place. Very carefree.

Libra Moons gives 0 fucks as long as they are well liked and they look good, very chill to be around and they see all sides to stuff so they dont play morals police.

Aries Moons seem to not care much at all from what Ive noticed. They also seem to handle issues instantly so thats probably why they dont need to care because they already handled anything. They seem to put their energy into goals etc.

In the middle:

Capricorn Moons they care a lot about social status but emotionally I find them detached as hell and almost cold. I put them in the middle bc they are very caring (and sometimes obsessive) when it comes to having the right connections etc.

Gemini Moons are also kind of detached like the other air Moons but they gossip a lot and know everything about everyone so they are not carefree.

Cancer Moons seem to not care much about irrelevant stuff but extremely emotionally caring and protective when it comes to family and friends. They might not care about what goes on in your life or who follows who on social media but they are ready to beat someone up for you.

Least carefree:

Virgo Moons are people I very often find with their nose in other peoples business and they play morals police and judge stuff that got nothing to do with them. Always beefing with somebody.

Leo Moons care a lot about attention and have sensitive egos. They have a very hard time letting go. If you wound their ego or make them feel less than they will do anything to show they are good enough. They are super loyal tho, love them.

Taurus Moons can hold a grudge oh lord I had two guys with this one who hated me for YEARS. These people just like Virgo Moon seem to play morals police a lot and be interested in people they dont even know. If you make these people upset they will NEVER get over it.

Scorpio Moons are very intense and cant let go. They will talk about that conflict that happened last year like it was yesterday. They dont notice themselves how intense they come across when they become obsessed with someone. They have imaginary beef with people who dont care for them.

Pisces Moons are such sweethearts but their sensitivity can make them care about stuff that others wouldnt notice, nothing wrong with that tho.

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #scorpio moon #moon in aries #moon in aquarius #moon in capricorn #moon in cancer

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honeygrahambitch · 7 days

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"I once had a very stupid fight with my wife." Will says as he watches Hannibal pouring the Sauvignon blanc in their glasses.

"Not that stupid if you felt the need to bring it up now." Hannibal said as he lifted his gaze from his glass to Will. Even though they've been together for a few months now, he still felt something inside himself getting triggered every time he would bring her up.

As if she would materialize in front of them and take Will away from him. Again. He was not sure if he preferred it when Will called her "Molly" instead of "my wife". Both felt like the screech of chalk on a blackboard.

The term "wife" however, made it feel less personal since it only highlighted a title given by a piece of paper. Mundane. Profane. The piece of paper was not enough for Will to stay with her. The problem with that construction was therefore not "wife", it was the possessive pronoun "my".

Well, technically she was Will's wife until their marriage would get terminated. But Hannibal didn't want Will to use "my" for anyone. And this has been something which has started from before going to prison and before fleeing to Florence.

Quite territorial of him to gain his man back and still act that way even when they had literally jumped off a cliff together. No piece of paper could beat that.

"It's the wine that reminded me." Will explained.

Hannibal arched an eyebrow. What did Will mean by that? He hadn't even had a chance to drink yet, how could the wine bring back such memories already?

"You know, me and Molly hardly ever fought."

Hannibal blinked a few times and tried to keep a neutral expression on his face. There it was, the name as well.

"I don't think, in fact, that this was a fight either. Now that I think about it, my confrontational style is not what a wife is looking for."

Hannibal looked at him with interest, not missing the way he said "a wife". So general. So unimportant. A wife like any other wife, nothing unique.

"Your confrontational style is indeed too passive for a wife." He agreed. "Passive and acidic."

From threatening him with a gun, to almost stabbing him, to starting his therapy again, to "dropping the mic", Hannibal was sure that Molly hasn't even experienced a small percentage of what Will could be capable of.

Will hummed as he picked up his glass and stared at his reflection in the clear white wine.

"So what happened?" Hannibal asked, now interested.

"She paired the fish I caught that day with the wrong wine."

Hannibal parted his lips slightly and didn't take his gaze away from Will, searching him from head to toes. "Was that a problem? To you?"

"No, but it would have been a real problem to you."

Hannibal felt the need to bring his own glass to his lips.

"You wouldn't have made such a mistake. And you wouldn't have brushed it off. You know, Molly - she's a g&t type of person. So it wasn't that big of a deal to her. And I laughed it off."

"But it wasn't that easy."

"It wasn't that easy and she noticed that it was deeper than that. It was not that I was trying to play the alpha male, trying to teach her how to drink wine. She was smart, she knew that was not my intention." Will said.

"So what followed?"

"The reason why we functioned for those few years was exactly because she knew not to get too close. We were both aware she wouldn't like it if she did. Which kind of sounds pathetic since marriage involves all that "for better and worse" thing."

"An overused statement which people are nowadays taking for granted." Hannibal added. "Your marriage did not entail the "for worse" part, did it?"

"Out of mutual convenience. Since "my worst" was something both of us wanted to stay away from. We had all the good parts. So instead of trying to figure out why I was so bothered by her poor choice of wine, she told me to go buy the right type of wine if I disagree with the rosé. And we both laughed."

"And did you?" Hannibal asked, a bit amused, a bit bitter.

Will looked around the room and then looked at him only. "Here I am, I did exactly what she said. Went for the wine that could be properly paired with myself."

Hannibal knew that at that point every effort to keep a neutral face would be futile. He was beaming right there, under Will's gaze.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal series #hannibal fanfiction

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

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better late than never

in which uni student fem!reader finally shares exactly what she's been worried about with spencer

18+ for pregnancy scare warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, reader doesn't want to be pregnant, age gap (unspecified) a/n: listennn lots of you guys asked for more spence x uni reader... but u didn't specify WHAT u wanted... so now we're fantasizing about pregnancy scares because we're all what?? say it with me!! MENTALLY ILL!!!!

For the fifth time, you have to restart the paragraph you were reading. For the fifth time, it doesn’t make any sense—words strung together like clashing beads on a dancing string, blurred together by the tears you’ve been fighting all day. Anthropology is by far the easiest of the six classes you’re taking this quarter, but suddenly completing this routine assignment feels like scaling a mountain. It is, of course, nothing in comparison to the catalytic source of your immense stress. The thing you’ve been trying to ignore for nearly a week, and as a result, have become more and more obsessive about.

A flare of rage overwhelms you and you slam your laptop shut. Then as quickly as it appeared, it dissipates, cooling to desolation as you bury your face in your hands with a sob. You hear paper shuffling from the desk where Spencer has been silently working and you try to reign in your emotions, but it’s too late.

“Hey,” he says gently as he approaches, slowing to a stop in front of your spot on the couch. “What’s going on with you?”

You sniff, quickly brushing the tears away with trembling hands. But your voice is thick and strained when you fruitlessly attempt to lie.

“Nothing.”

When you refuse to look up at him, he kneels down in front of you.

“Really? This doesn’t have anything to do with why you’ve been so quiet these past few days?”

Of course, he noticed. You were a fool for thinking he wouldn’t. Finally you break, looking to him for subconscious comfort. And he’s looking up at you so earnestly, with so much genuine concern in those puppy dog eyes, that the waterworks threaten to start up all over again. Your lip quivers.

“I can’t tell you,” you squeak.

“That’s a really scary thing for me to hear. Do you understand why?” His voice is calm, carefully grabbing your hand and bringing to his heart. “Because I need to know if something happened to you.”

You shake your head tearfully, looking down at where you’re weakly grasping the front of his shirt.

“‘s not like that,” comes your reedy whisper. “Nobody hurt me or anything, I just—I don’t want you to get mad at me.”

“I won’t get mad, I won’t,” he promises desperately, “right now I just want to know what I can do to make this better. I hate seeing you like this.”

A shuddering sigh forces its way out of your lungs. You suppose this is the kind of thing you probably should tell your boyfriend about, as petrifying as it may be.

“I don’t know, I… I’ve just been freaking the fuck out because I’m worried I’m pregnant, and this would be the worst possible timing—like I know I want kids one day but I’m still in college and you’re like a real adult with an adult career and I don’t want to fuck that up for you and I know that even if I am pregnant I have choices but that’s still so scary and… and I don’t know.”

You’re expecting a long pause, punctuated by some berating and bemoaning, but it never comes. Spencer doesn’t miss a beat.

“Honey, this is exactly the kind of thing you tell me about,” he says, voicing your earlier thoughts. And he doesn’t even sound furious. You glance up, watching his visage swim beyond your teary eyes. “I am not mad. That wouldn’t make any sense. Do you know who’s fault it would be if you accidentally got pregnant?”

“Well—"

“Mine. So if this ever happens again, please don’t keep it to yourself for so long. I won’t be mad at you for something like this, ever.”

“But… you’re not worried?”

He shakes his head slowly, looking utterly unperturbed.

“I wouldn’t be worried either way. But no, I’m not concerned that you’re pregnant. We’re really safe. The chances of you being pregnant are essentially negligible.”

“But I’m two weeks late.”

“That can happen when you��re taking six upper level classes,” he agrees, swiping your cheek with a thumb. “You’re under a lot of stress. I’m completely unsurprised that your body is reacting to it.”

A weight like a ton of bricks is lifted from your shoulders, but doubt still lingers.

Spencer sees the hesitation in your eyes.

“Would it make you feel better to take a test? Just in case?”

You nod gingerly, wrapping your hand around his wrist. He takes it in both of his, kissing the back before dropping them to your lap.

“Okay. I’ll go get a couple. But I’m confident that you have nothing to worry about, and I’m usually right about these things.”

You take another deep breath, the last of the anxiety floating away with it. He’s usually right about everything.

“Spence?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing your palm with his thumb and looking at you with so much love in his eyes.

“Do you maybe feel like doing my homework for me?”

He smiles.

“Nice try. Get it done and we can go out for dinner, okay?”

“Always worth a shot,” you shrug.

He laughs, shaking his head as he stands.

“And the answer will always be no.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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fallinallincurls · 2 months

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pancakes for two, i will always love you

this is my (late) entry for demi's lowkey lovefest 2k24! thank you so much for hosting this fun little challenge @wyattjohnston!

this fic is also a belated birthday gift to the amazing @desiredposion!! inspiration struck and i had to make the most of it so i hope you love this! this was also my first time writing for nico which was so much fun.

prompt used: "don't ever stop looking at me like that."

heavily inspired by the lyrics "maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two, hash brown, egg yolk, i will always love you" from keep driving by harry styles

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 1.3k+

~~~~~

Dating a professional hockey player means that slow mornings are a rarity. Usually, Nico is up and out the door for morning skate before your eyes even open. But today, you’re lucky enough to get the extra time in bed with the man you love for the first time in what feels like forever.

As sunlights bathes the room in a subtle, but beautiful golden glow, you snuggle in closer to Nico in an effort to absorb the heat radiating from his body. His strong arms tighten around you instinctively and even though his eyes remain closed, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“Morning, Neeks.”

“Mm,” He hums contently, making you giggle and you relish in the rough feeling of his scruff against your skin. You card a hand through his tousled hair, earning a soft moan in response.

“Come on, schatzi.” He murmurs, dragging out the syllables of each word as a slight smirk appears on his lips. “You know how much I like it when you play with my hair.”

“Oh trust me, I know.” You chuckle, moving your hand to his cheek just as Nico lifts his head and his gorgeous brown eyes meet yours. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, the playfulness that was evident just seconds ago fading even though the identical tender smiles on your faces continue to grow.

“We don’t get to do this enough.” Nico whispers, gaze never leaving yours as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. You rest a hand on his bare chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart and try to commit every detail about this moment to memory. Nothing but pure adoration rushes through your veins as you admire the beautiful man next to you.

“That’s okay. It makes these rare mornings that much more special.”

“I’m going to tell the team we can’t ever have practice until after 10 at the earliest.” Nico grins, his dimples appearing as he laughs at his own little joke.

“You have that power as captain?” You tease, pressing a kiss to his nose, his cheek, and finally his lips. Nico smiles into the kiss before deepening it for a few seconds, bringing out that familiar need for him.

“I don’t really know, but I deserve some more time with my girl so I’ll make it a rule. I don’t care what anyone says.” He mumbles against your lips, voice low and still full of sleep.

Your heart swells as you drink in the sight of your boyfriend. Nico’s eyes are sparkling with love and his sweet smile is the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen. His hair is a mess but somehow still looks perfect and you absentmindedly trace shapes on his shoulder, feeling the well toned muscles there.

He is a dream. And despite all odds, you’re the lucky one who gets to love him every single day. That’s something you’ll never take for granted because you never thought you’d find someone as kind, caring and amazing as Nico.

Yet, here you are.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Nico presses another tender kiss to your cheek before pulling away like he’s going to get up.

“Hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going?” You tease him, grabbing onto his forearm in an effort to keep him in bed.

“To make breakfast?” Nico replies, more as a question than a statement. His brows knit together in confusion and the cutest look crosses over his facial features.

“Right now? We can’t stay and cuddle for five more minutes?” Nico can’t help but chuckle at the adorable pout you’re putting on display, but doesn’t give into your antics. Instead, he leans down to give you one last kiss before heading towards the bedroom door.

“Yes, right now. By the time you’re done with your morning routine, everything will be ready. I promise. We have all day to be cozy and do absolutely nothing.” He reassures you, that cheeky smile of his blossoming across his lips and bringing out his dimples again.

“Not fair, Neeks!” You call after him, that giddy feeling of happiness rushing through you when you hear his laughter floating down the hallway. After soaking in the warmth for a few more seconds, you reluctantly drag yourself out of bed to shower and get your morning routine done.

And true to his word, when you enter the kitchen dressed in sweats and one of Nico’s shirts ready for a lazy day in with your boyfriend, you find the counter covered in a full breakfast spread. A mug of coffee made just the way you like it, pancakes for two, maple syrup, hash browns and eggs are all plated and ready to be enjoyed.

“Nico,” You breathe out, shock and awe evident in your voice. Nico is always doing something sweet for you, no matter how big or small, but you weren’t expecting this at all. “What is this for?”

“Just because.” Nico shrugs, a bashful look on his face. His cheeks are pink with blush and those gorgeous brown eyes are twinkling with excitement. “We don’t get many mornings together like this. I wanted to spoil you. Made all your favorites.” He admits before stealing a kiss from you and passing you a full plate he somehow put together without you noticing.

“I love you.” There’s nothing else you can say. After all the time together, these little gestures still warm your heart and are the kindest reminders of Nico’s love for you.

“I love you too, schatzi. Now come on, let’s eat. We’ve got a whole lot of nothing to do today.” Nico teases, sitting down next to you at the table.

As you enjoy breakfast together, the two of you talk about everything and anything. Nico tells you some funny stories from practice yesterday and catches you up on all the drama about how Jack likes a girl, but won’t make a move. You fill him in on your latest project at work and how you scheduled a girls day with your best friend for later that week.

“We’re going to check out that new bookstore in Hoboken! The one right by the restaurant we really like on the waterfront. I’m looking for the next book in the series I’m reading so hopefully they have it.”

Noticing Nico has been quiet the whole time you’ve been talking, your rambling trails off. But before you can ask what’s wrong, your breath is stolen away. Because when you take in the sight of your boyfriend, you see the fondest look on his face. One that you recognize of pure love and adoration. It’s the look of someone who has found exactly where they should be. The look of someone who has found happiness in the simplicity of spending their life with another person.

“Please don’t ever stop looking at me like that.” You murmur, the words slipping past your lips before you even realize what you’re saying. Nico’s gentle smile just grows, his hand reaching for yours.

“Like what?” He teases, that familiar playfulness evident through his question.

“Like nothing else in the world matters but the love that we have. Like you’re the happiest right here with me.”

“I am the happiest with you. Always will be.” Nico whispers before pulling you in for a deep kiss. He says everything with that kiss, words aren’t necessary and wouldn’t do justice to how he feels about you. You melt into his gentle touch, smiling against his lips as everything else falls away for just a moment.

“And you’re right,” He starts when the kiss breaks, his big brown eyes never leaving yours. “Nothing else even compares to the way I love you.”

And right then, over pancakes and coffee that Nico made you, you know he’s going to be the man you marry. The one you spend the rest of your days with. Because this kind of love is once-in-a-lifetime and you don’t want to go through life without him by your side.

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier fics #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier blurbs #nico hischier fluff #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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srvbryn · 2 months

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Luke Castellan. Stolen kisses

Luke Castellan X f!reader

summary: for someone who's widely admired — Luke castellan has never had a first kiss, well you're here to kiss him isn't it?

Warning: just kissing ^^

A/n: watching ATLA & Solo Leveling 🎀🤭

The afternoon light poured through the curtains, casting an inviting glow across the room as (Name) and Luke found themselves seated on the couch, textbooks pushed aside.

"Okay, so," (Name) began, clearing her throat, "kissing is... well, it's kind of like a dance. You have to find the rhythm, the right moves."

Luke, shifted uncomfortably. "I've never really thought about it like that."

(Name) chuckled, her nerves matching Luke's. "No worries. It's just practice, right? Nothing to stress about."

She took a deep breath and continued, "So the first thing is about being gentle, you don't want to go too fast and too slow. It's all about finding that sweet spot."

As (Name) explained, Luke listened attentively, making an effort to understand everything that was said.

She gestured with her hands, imitating the movement of a kiss, occasionally looking at Luke, who was becoming increasingly flustered.

"Okay, now, um, let's try a simple move. You can start by gently cupping my face," (Name) suggested, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink.

Luke hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering uncertainly near her face — (Name) gently guided his hand.

Luke gulped nervously, trying to hide the subtle fluttering in his chest.

"Now, lean in slowly," (Name) instructed, her voice soft. "Close your eyes and let the moment take over."

Luke complied, bringing their faces closer. The room seemed to hold its breath as the distance between them drew closer.

(Name)'s heart rate increased, and she felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. As their lips were about to meet, Luke gathered the courage to close the remaining gap, kissing (Name)'s lips quickly and sweetly.

Startled, (Name) blinked, taking a moment to register what just happened. Luke pulled away, a nervous smile playing on his lips. "Like that?"

(Name) sat in stunned silence for a beat before bursting into laughter, the tension dissipating into the air. "You caught me off guard, but I'd say you're a quick learner, Castellan."

Luke's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Well, I didn't want to mess it up, you know?"

(Name) grinned, her eyes sparkling. "You definitely didn't mess it up. Just maybe a little too efficient."

They both laughed, their awkwardness giving way to current comfort. (Name) put a comforting hand on Luke's shoulder. "Hey, that was a good first try." Kissing is all about understanding your own technique, which you'll accomplish with practice."

Luke nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks for being my... kissing coach?"

As they continued to chat and share laughter, the afternoon sunlight cast a warm glow over the room.

In a moment of understanding, (Name) leaned in, her lips gently brushing against Luke's.

This time, it was an intentional move, a conscious decision to step into uncharted territory: shared emotions.

Luke reciprocated, closing the gap between them, the soft press of their lips creating a moment suspended in time.

The room seemed to disappear as they lost themselves in the innocence of the kiss. It was a tender exchange, a delicate ballet of feelings that went beyond words. The world outside the room vanished as they discovered the art of kissing together.

When they finally pulled away, a warmth lingered, both in the room and within their hearts.

Luke, breaking the quiet, spoke gently, "So, how was that? Better?"

(Name) chuckled, a glint in her eyes. "Definitely an improvement. Maybe you're a fast learner after all."

Luke's expression shifted from nervousness to a more confident smile. "Well, I had a good teacher."

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #charlie bushnell #percy jackson pjo #luke castellan fluff

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yaekiss · 1 year

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𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔?! - 𝒑𝒕. 𝟐

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader! x Sub! Xiao, Sub! Zhongli, Sub! Diluc (separate), all 3 of them are inexperienced virgins, mild monsterfucking(?) in Xiao's part, handcuffs in Zhongli's part, lmk if I missed out anything! ꩜ A/N: Part 2 !!! Sorry for the wait, made this one slightly longer to make up for it orz, enjoy the tired meowmeow trio! Tried to make it as in character as possible but could be ooc 💀, feedback if anyone's too ooc LMAO ꩜ Adjoining Rooms: Part 1 (Wanderer, Aether, Kaveh)

It’s your first time fucking your babygirl, what trait of his catches your eye?

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟒𝟏𝟕: 𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒐

I’d like to think with how much he does seek out approval from those he looks up to, plus how he usually never lets himself be loved, the second your hands wrap around his cock and you mutter a soft “you’re so good for me, Xiao,” the walls he set around his heart slowly start crumbling down

Perhaps more adeptal features start showing itself to you for the first time in your whole relationship with him

Carding your hands through his hair, you feel the soft feathers starting to sprout from the nape of his neck down to his shoulder blades

As you work him to his peak, the tattoo on his right arm starts to glow faintly

Maybe if you make him cum enough, he’ll show you all of his adeptal form 👀

“That’s it Xiao, don’t hold back,” you purr into his ear as his face gets impossibly redder. Your hands wring out the most delectable noises from him but it’s not enough. You want more. (And judging by his reactions, so does he)

“Hah, ahn! So so so close…!” His body is tense, teetering on the edge of euphoria, piercing golden eyes gazing into yours. Even in the throes of pleasure, he’s still waiting for you to give him permission to cum.

“So perfect, go on, cum for me.” A particularly harsh jerk has his eyes rolling into the back of his head, breath hitching as he chokes on air. Your eyes catch the pale green tattoo shimmer when the pressure building in him snaps, his orgasm splattering across his toned tummy and coating your hand.

When you look back up at Xiao, he has deep teal feathers dotted around his shoulders, and wait- Are those talons?! Noticing your gaze, he attempts to squirm out of your embrace, angling his body away to hide his features that made a sudden appearance. But you know your skittish sweetheart too well. Your hands immediately clamp down on his waist and he bites back a whimper, stopping his escape.

“Don’t look at m- mmph?!” His cock is engulfed by your mouth, any previous thoughts of shying away instantly dispelled.

“I wonder how much more you’re holding back from me darling?” With that look in your eyes, Xiao knows he’s in for a long night ♡

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟏𝟐𝟑𝟏: 𝒁𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊

He’s not exactly… uneducated on coitus or sexual intercourse per se

(Don’t ask him how many lewd prayers he’s had to listen to over the years)

But no matter the amount of knowledge he has amassed, nothing beats hands-on experience and expertise (that he, very glaringly, lacks)

The furthest he’s gone is clumsily fumbling around with his body and figuring out some of his erogenous spots and ahem deepest fantasies after hearing an especially steamy prayer one night

Which is why you have a naked and blushing 6000-years-old ex-deity lying in your bed right now

Thankfully he can always count on you to ravish him!

The flickering candlelight casts a warm orange sort of radiance on his skin, further accentuating the glimmering veins of molten gold climbing up his arms. Trailing your gaze upwards, you are greeted with the sight of geo-constructed cuffs circling his wrists, shackling him to your bed. His face is practically scarlet with how embarrassed he is right now but with how much effort he has put in, he’s determined to see tonight through.

(The sight before you reminds you suspiciously of a scene in that raunchy erotica book you lent him a couple weeks ago. It’s kind of cute when you think of how long he has had this desire ruminating in his mind.)

“T-touch me please, dear,” his voice is gravelly, laced with a desperate need for your hands to roam all over him, cock twitching at the thought.

“Where do you want me to touch you? What makes you burn and shudder from how good it feels?” Such licentious words! Zhongli can’t help but shake with anticipation at your next sentence.

“Don’t worry dear, I’ll give you everything a god could ever want.”

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟒𝟑𝟎: 𝑫𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒄 𝑹.

Our favourite repressed redhead!

Despite the more-than-enough prospective fiancées he’s introduced to during banquets and festivals, he’s never really progressed far enough in a relationship for him to tumble into bed with another

That is, until you entered into his life and stole his heart (and soon, his virginity!)

Very obedient and mostly just goes along with whatever you say so he greatly appreciates it when you regularly check in to make sure he’s comfortable

Do: Praise him. He’ll cum the second you praise him!

Don’t: Expect him to tell you what he wants. He has no idea either 💀

“Like this? Ah… it feels a little- hng! -weird!” His index finger slowly disappears into him the way you’ve instructed and he’s gradually getting used to the sensation of his ass being penetrated. Brows furrowed, he looks up at you for your input (oh you’ll be putting something in him alright)

“That’s right, doing very well! You’re a fast learner, as expected of my Diluc.” Hearing your praise, it spurs him on to push deeper, loosening him up even more. You can see every little action he does, seated across from him but never touching him. The amount of concentration he puts into fingering himself for the first time is honestly endearing, sweat already forming on his forehead, thigh muscles tensing and relaxing at the new experience.

When he jolts, toes curling and head thrown back in a flurry of red, you know he’s discovered where his prostate is. Diluc looks breathless yet so breathtaking, his face the same colour as his hair, chest heaving as he tries to recover from the lick of ecstasy he just tasted.

He looks so cute and clueless but you’ll help him out, won’t you?

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

#📜.qi musings #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin smut #sub genshin #dom reader #xiao x reader #xiao smut #sub xiao #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #sub zhongli #diluc x reader #diluc smut #sub diluc #2 more parts to go !!#📜.qi writings

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twogyuu · 4 months

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[1149]

pairing: jihoon x fem!reader (ft roommate mingyu, mentions of pi cheol in and chun sun aka me jk jk )

synopsis: in which, you get sick and jihoon asks mingyu for help.

genre: fluff, comfort newly established relationship

warnings: reader is sick, profanity, unedited (this is literally just word vomit)

wc: ~1.9k

. . . .

So, to be fair, Jihoon has never done this "boyfriend" thing before - at least as a young adult. He dated someone temporarily in middle school and kind of talked to someone in high school, but this was different. Two young adults with mutual feelings that may or may not have took too long to confess on both ends and now are in a committed exclusive relationship, where you care about each other a lot - sometimes, maybe more than themselves. You've gotten to the stage of going over to each other's places almost daily, sleepovers when they can squeeze them in, sometimes you visit him at work - heck! You hold hands in public now and even your non-mutual friends are meeting, and soon enough when your birthday rolls around, he'll meet your parents.

As new as everything is and Jihoon begrudgingly, but openly and patiently, taking it all one step at a time, there are just some things he doesn't know how to handle - like you not texting him your usual 'good night' message this evening.

He's sitting in his living room, phone wedged between his thick fingers, jiggling his foot as he clicks the screen on and off, awaiting your message. He attempted to distract himself earlier by turning on a re-run episode of Demon Slayer, but his eyes were glued to his phone. The time almost reads midnight - you usually text him at 11:15 like it's clock work.

Should he text you?

Should he call?

It wouldn't be too overwhelming, right?

Jihoon fiddles with his phone, opening and closing the messaging app. His thumb hovers over his keyboard as he hesitantly starts typing out a word: H-i.

No - that's dumb!

Hey.

Delete, delete, delete.

Ugh! When did this get so hard.

"What are you pulling your hairs about?" Mingyu asks from behind, eliciting a slight jump from Jihoon. The taller man settles into the empty cushion beside him, turning off the TV - the bright colors from the show giving him a headache after staring at his computer screen for hours as he finished up a work project.

"Nothing," Jihoon grumbles. Unconsciously, he runs a hand through his dark locks once more.

Mingyu points at his head. "Doesn't seem like nothing - you're going to to go bald at this point."

Jihoon resists at first, letting several beats pass. He squirms in his seat; Mingyu sitting back on his side of the couch, getting comfortable and amused at Jihoon fighting himself.

"it's just . . . uh," Jihoon shakes his head furiously, "Ugh - this is so stupid."

"This is stupid or are you stupid?" Mingyu presses.

"Shut up - you're so damn irritating," Jihoon shoves his knee.

"Well," Mingyu stands up and shrugs, "All I was doing was trying to help."

Jihoon finally caves, letting out a heavy sigh. "Y/N hasn't texted 'goodnight' yet," he mutters.

Mingyu clamps a hand dramatically over his mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick - oh, hey! Ow!"

The couch throw pillow smacks Mingyu in the face, Jihoon's cheeks burning as he turns to face away from his friend. "Fucking asshole."

"I'm kidding!" Mingyu scurries over to him. He tries to shoot Jihoon an apologetic look, though the latter refuses to meet his eye.

"Maybe, you should call her? If you're that worried - text might take too long for her to reply," Mingyu suggests.

Jihoon's eyes flicker over to him then back, still scowling. Mingyu does his best to suppress his grin threatening to stretch across his lips. It's actually so dang cute - Jihoon caring so deeply for someone. Not that he didn't before, but never so openly - or as open as Jihoon can be.

"it wouldn't be like . . . weird, right?" Jihoon mumbles.

Mingyu shakes his head furiously, thrusting his phone closer to Jihoon as to urge him to dial your number.

"I'll be right here," Mingyu flutters his lashes.

Jihoon jerks his arm away, letting out a brisk 'tsk,' before turning to his device. His eyes linger on your name, finger hesitantly held above it.

Tap.

And it starts to ring.

And ring.

And-

"The person you are trying to call is not available at this time. Please leave a message at the tone-"

Frantically, Jihoon turns to Mingyu, eyes wide and body tense.

"What?" Mingyu asks.

"She didn't answer!" Jihoon exclaims. "What if, what if-"

"Whoa, whoa - calm down," Mingyu tries, "How about we try calling her again?"

"You're right," Jihoon nods, trying to calm his nerves. "She might just be in the bathroom or something."

He tries once more and this time, someone does pick up - but it's not you.

"Hello?"

Jihoon looks nervously towards Mingyu.

"Is . . . Y/N there? This is . . . Jihoon, their, err, um . . . boyfriend," he explains.

"Oh!" the girl on the other line exclaims, "I'm so glad you called actually! It's Jihyo! Y/N's roommate."

"Ah," Jihoon let's out a small breath. "Hey Jihyo - is she . . . okay?"

"Yes, but no," Jihyo replies hastily. He hears padded footsteps as if Jihyo was rushing to another room. "Um, yes - she's safe, but no - she's actually sick."

"Sick?"

"Yeah," Jihyo's tone grew blue, "She ran a fever earlier today and had some nausea. Not sure if it's a bad stomach bug or the flu or something."

"Oh my god."

"I know!" Jihyo continues, "I tried to tell her to call you, but she refused!"

A sick feeling swirls in Jihoon's chest. "Why?"

The simple, one-worded question seems hard to get out.

"I'm not sure," Jihyo confesses. "I think she just didn't want to worry you."

"Oh," Jihoon nods slowly, even though Jihyo can't see him. His shoulders slump, feeling disappointed. Hurt.

Did you think he was weird? Why didn't you tell him?

"If you want, you can come by - actually you should. I'll stay up for a bit and let you in," Jihyo offers.

"Um," Jihoon scratches his head. "A-are you sure? What if she doesn't like it?"

"Does it matter?" Jihyo chuckles. "Your her boyfriend and you were worried enough to call."

"Toche," he breathes out.

"Think about it and text me," Jihyo advises. "Don't be too long."

. . . .

"Y/N . . . she's sick," Jihoon tells Mingyu.

"Oh," Mingyu dips his spoon into his yogurt. "So . . . are you gonna do anything about it?"

"Should I?" Jihoon asks. "Can I?"

"I mean, yes, you can," Mingyu shrugs. "But do you want to? And if so what?"

Jihoon rubs his neck sheepishly. "I want to do something, but I don't know what. She's sick, Mingyu, and my girlfriend. What would a good boyfriend do?"

"Oh my god," Mingyu shakes his head. "Please don't tell me you're that hopeless!"

"It's not that!" Jihoon argues back, "I just don't want to be weird."

"Caring about your girlfriend and wanting to see her is not weird," Mingyu scolds. However, he's always tapping away on his phone, doing something. "Auntie Sun? Hi! Mingyu - say, I apologize for calling so late to closing time, but could you prepare some of that soup for me? It's a bit of an emergency - I'll have a friend pick it up. His name is Jihoon." Mingyu nods, a few 'mhm's' falling from his lips before he quickly thanks her and promises her a nice tip for the last minute order and hangs up.

"What are you doing?" Jihoon asks slowly.

Mingyu pulls his wallet out his back pocket and thrusts them into Jihoon's hands. "Auntie Sun's restaurant is down the street and around the corner - go one more block, and you should see it. There's a ginormous, kinda creepy-looking, smiling daisy on the sign. Her weirdly chirpy husband, Cheol In, should be sitting outside singing some trot song. Pick up the soup and bring it over when you go to her place."

"That's weirdly specific," Jihoon grumbles, accepting the bills.

"Yeah, they're kind of a weird couple with a weird routine," Mingyu sits back down, returning to his yogurt. "But you know what? It's fine - you know why? Because they love each other."

Jihoon narrows his eyes, "Are you trying to say something?"

Mingyu sighs. "Jihoon, I know this is your first relationship in a while - a serious one. And, even though you won't admit it, everyone can see how much you like and care about her. Don't hold back and fuck it up just because you're nervous about being 'weird' or whatever you're doing."

This takes Jihoon aback for a moment, fingers curling slowly over the bills. He takes this in, letting the words sink in - because Mingyu was right and he has a point. In the name of love (or whatever this is), he has to put aside his own insecurities, and not only be open and patient in doing things with you, but for you - understanding you.

"Also?" Mingyu pipes up once more, "Trust me - she does not think you're weird at all."

. . . .

Your sleeping wrapped like a burrito in your comforter when Jihoon enters your room. Hot soup in one hand because he was to eager to see you to set it down, he stands above you at your bedside, feeling a weight lift off his chest. You looked uncomfortable, yes, possibly having a bad dream with the way you wince and sweat beads along your brows, but you were alive and safe.

Jihoon places the soup on your nightstand, crouching to eye level. He reaches for the small washcloth and swipes at your skin carefully. Your eyes suddenly flutter open, sending Jihoon onto his butt in surprise.

"Jihoon?" you groan.

"H-hi," he manages as he clutches his chest. "It's me?"

You moan once more, rolling onto your back. "What are you doing here? Did Jihyo call you?"

"I called you and Jihyo picked up," Jihoon explains, rising and adjusting himself so he could better see you. He smooths a loose fringe of hair. "I was worried - you didn't text to say 'goodnight.'"

You try to hide from him, burying yourself under the covers. "I didn't want you to see me like this!"

He chuckles half-heartedly, gently fighting you to come out. "Why? You're sick."

"Exactly," you mutter, too weak and finally letting him win. You're pouting, tears welling in your waterlines.

Jihoon returns your pout. "I'm kind of hurt, if I'm being honest."

Your expression softens and you wait for him to explain further.

"I'm your . . . boyfriend," Jihoon states, "Isn't this what boyfriend's are for? Taking care of you and all? Especially when you're sick?"

You slump back, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "I mean . . . I guess. I'm just kind of . . . embarrassed? I dunno."

"Babe," Jihoon chuckles, moving closer to you. He reaches for your hand, enveloping it in his. "I want to know and be here when you're sick."

"I look and feel terrible though," you whine.

"Not like I haven't seen you with morning breath and hair sticking up funny in the morning," Jihoon teases.

"Jihoon!"

"Just shut up and come here."

He doesn't give you much of an option, wrapping you in an embrace.

"You're going to get sick!"

"I don't care," Jihoon squeezes you tighter. "I mean, I kind of do, but you'll take care of me then."

Relaxing into his hold, you finally reciprocate, loosely wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Next time, please tell me, okay?" Jihoon asks softly. "I wasn't kidding when I was kind of hurt. I want to know."

You let out a deep breath, lids growing heavy as you let the comfort of his warmth seep in.

"Okay."

#woozi x reader #woozi fluff #woozi scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff

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