#i don't know if im good enough to turn on tips. i don't know if will turn people off from my blog and make them not want to follow

[vyzz-undercover]

the voices have made this happen

[cato/f!ambassador]

(1) (2) (3)

(5,900ish words) (OUUGHHHHH)

CONTENT WARNINGS:

•slight dubcon

•hints of size kink (obligatory)

•vaginal fingering

•oral (f receiving)

•mild possessive behaviour

•the consequences of ignoring important medical devices

•mentions of (hypothetical) torture

•tumblrs recurringly cancerous formatting

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im back on my bullshit after having to do overnights so as payment to the dark gods of whoring and degeneracy i humbly offer this taglist of sweet darling who've indulged my insanity: @the-raven-lady, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @bispecsual, @lemon-russ, @kit-williams, @passionofthesith, @egrets-not-regrets, @moodymisty, @sinistermojo, @justeverythingnothingelse, @pluvio-tea, @thevoidscreams, @beckyninja, @yestheantichrist!!! if you wanna be tagged (or not) in the next let me know!!! also it may take me longer to do a part four to this namely because ive got more wageslaving ahead of me soon but alas i'll definitely have rowboat girlyman catch em. also maybe give cato some top. myehehehehe,,, AND THANK YOU FOR READING AS USUAL ILY ALL!!! :3

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Cato is just about leaving.

After having spent the better part of an hour discussing the predicted destruction pathway of a hive-fleet on the system's rim with his Father; it sends his balls into his throat when you nearly run into him in the chamber's huge archway.

It only takes a fraction of a second to catalogue your presence.

You're wearing the same utilitarian blue robe as you had been last week again.

Last week, when he'd been pounding you insensible on a lounge in the library—Cato promptly quashes the insidious memory, smothering down any sort of reaction. But there is a change in comparison to the dizzying reminder: there's a new addition to the reoccurring outfit.

You've brought a navy, high-collared turtleneck into the mix, layered below your lapels.

So, the efforts of his mouth hadn't gone unheeded, then.

Throne, if he's not smug, he's got no bloody clue what he is.

Cato steps aside and turns to allow you entrance first before his exit.

"Commander Sicarius," you lilt with a soft voice and a small downward tip of your chin, all while holding his gaze.

He's transfixed periodically at the honeyed sort of warmth in your eyes.

Despite himself, he lingers and greets you with a slow, "Lady Ambassador."

The left side of his mouth twitches upward in a half-aborted smirk that he quickly tries to mask as a stern, frown-nod combination.

You break the staring match and Cato's confident he's salvaged his slip-up without detection.

Or not—because oh, fuck—if he doesn't feel the burning focus of a Primarch's eyes boring a hole into the side of his head like a brand.

It only lasts an instant, but the second is an eternity to him.

Of course, you're oblivious to this subtle exchange—and promptly trot past him to his Father's vast desk.

"My Lord Primarch," you say with a curt little bow; and then Guilliman's attention is solely on you, his favourite little pet project. "I read the data-drives you instructed from the preceding article logging. I've arranged them back to the most recent mark counts."

You're looking for an empty spot to lay them on his table, but with all the meticulously arranged stacks, it's none too easy to find one.

"Perfect," the Primarch breaths, "Just on the side there is fine, don't worry."

Obligingly, you lay them atop a small mountain of paperwork.

"Do you need anything else of me, my Lord?" You chirp brightly, the tone of your voice so very painfully sweet—Cato is nearly overwhelmed fighting a pitched battle against the urge to run over, pick you up and shake you around suddenly.

Guilliman chuckles, waving one massive hand about vaguely, "You've done more than enough for me today, why don't we leave it at that for now, hm? Go on."

"Of course; thank you, and have a good evening, my Lord," You say, bow once more, and turn on your heel from the Primarch, and—and smile at Cato as you walk back towards the exit. That's—that's the first time you've smiled at him. His twin hearts lurch, slamming forward against the inside of his fused chest cavity. It's perfect abominable. You rotten temptress, he's—he's going to rectify that audacity later. Or now, if you're... possibly heading the same direction he is. Which is whatever direction you're going, purely by chance.

It's merely coincidence, he swears.

He's certainly not planning on hounding after you like a dog tailing a bitch in heat.

He's certainly not going to drag you into a side room the second he's sure no-one with a credible opinion's around.

He's certainly not going to indulge in anything heretical, like bending you bare over his knee for daring to taunt him.

Cato makes as if to fall in step behind you as you pass the threshold before him, but is quickly halted by his Father's curt, "I do not believe you have been dismissed, Cato."

He's never been subjected to such sinking dread quite so nonchalantly.

"Approach."

Cato complies stuffily, sparing a glance at your figure disappearing down the corridor before acquiescing. He's practically dragging his ceramite boots across the intricate rugs as he nears the Primarch's seated but colossal form.

Guilliman isn't looking at him, having had returned to notating a miscellaneous form.

The scritch-scratch of his gene-sire's preferred, yet archaic method of manually writing on the parchment is like someone grating a plate with a fork to his ears right now.

"You've gotten over your petty grievances regarding the Ambassador at last, I take it?" Guilliman asks, without looking up.

It is not Cato's duty to like or dislike. Nor is it to be biased without reason—his opinions are to be intellectual, not emotional. His duty is to assess, analyse and provide feedback, so that his Primarch can take it into account when making rulings and decisions.

Cato swallows around the proverbial hunk of drywall lodged in his throat and answers, "She has proven herself... useful, yes, sire."

Guilliman finally meets his eyes but says nothing for a short while. There's dark bags under his Primarch's eyes, and the deep, stern crease permanently between his dark blonde brows is a slight bit harsher, but the only thing Cato can parse out of the expression's intent is a vague sense of knowing. Because, insofar, he's thought himself quite adept at reading his Primarch; and rather well versed in deciphering the intricacies of his moods.

And right now, he feels like he's being read like an open manuscript.

The daunting prospect Cato's caught sinks it's teeth in his gullet. It's impossible, he's not left any room for suspicion, he's covered his tracks—there's no logical reason why he should be getting raked with such a look.

His gene-sire isn't a psyker nor omniscient, just impossibly intelligent—and so absurdly good at the mathematics of plotting and planning that it only appears superficially as if he is all-seeing. He can't possibly know what Cato has been doing—or rather, who he's been doing.

"It's about time," his Father hums abruptly, suddenly disinterested. "Now you're dismissed."

Cato nods, turns on his boot heel, and nigh bolts marches out the room. His proverbial tail definitely not between his legs.

The hall outside Guilliman's apartments is a central domed area that functions as a meeting area, where people go to one of six looming hallways. It's the bottom of a series of levels; and above, three echelons encircled by arcades and balustrades, framed on the exterior by engaged columns.

But the structure itself is immense and ancient, even by Imperial standards. One of the few still-original, unaltered parts of the great Gloriana-class warship's innards. It is doused in long swathes of red carpet and great standards of Magcraggian note, alongside glorious, heroic frescoes depicting Legiones Astartes in their thousands, crusading across the heavens with the Emperor their head.

Cato keeps his head down as he passes them, uneasy with guilt. Feeling as if their lenses are following him—intent on venturing into the lower layers to brood.

Several Astartes are hovering about amongst the personnel and serfs. The baselines look up at him in awe, and his Brothers nod in respect, but he pays them all no mind.

The furthest corridor beckons him, and so he goes; down the complex system of broad walks with high, barrel vault ceilings, mazing through the vessel's higher clearance reaches like arteries through a body.

Cato is seething, and self-admittedly itching to take a howler of a swing at the next thing that speaks to him.

He cuts down the southern channel and sees one of his subordinate Victrix Guard lingering in the middle of a groin vault intersection.

The younger Astartes is about to continue straight, yet he pauses.

Brother Marcellus meets Cato's eyes for a second, clearly notes his Commander's absolutely stinking mood from a hundred meters off; nods, swallows, takes a step backward—and changes direction to go left rather than pass him.

Cato's too pissed to even linger on the strangeness of the action.

Still, he doesn't rightly blame him.

Cato strides on, back straight, chin up—the red shawl pinned beneath his pauldrons swirling behind him.

His thoughts are eating at him the whole while.

He's sure his Primarch is just trying to innocently divine his sudden change of mind regarding you. There's no way his Father's aware of why. And yet, guilt is a big black wolf nipping at his ankles, making him hasten; and unease clouds about his heart. He's mortified, for lack of a better word.

The full implications of the situation are too enormous to be faced all at once; so he picks the smallest, most banal facet he can think of.

That being, you.

You, who he'll never see again if his Primarch finds out.

You, who's practically damned him without knowing it.

You, who he's now valiantly trying not to imagine in a hundred different circumstances where he gets away with it all. Each one more heretical than the last—it's like it was before he'd managed a hand on you: his body giving in to suffocating delusions, sleepless in his cot; lapping at whatever scant, lust-soaked morsels his mind offers up.

One of his favourites remains you scantily clad beneath a moonlit night sky, on the parapet of his ancestral fortress on the coastal edge of Perusia.

He likes to fantasise you like it there.

He suspects you would.

He knows just about all there is to know about you on paper, and wonders if you know much of Talassar. Or if you've read about Castra Tanagra. He assumes Guilliman would share the tale of that famed old battle with you as a part of your readings.

Each impossible reverie is a new shiny nail in his coffin, or dreadnaut—it depends where and how he dies, and if there's anything scrape up of him when he eventually goes down in a blaze of glory and duty, and honour.

If his Primarch catches him, there's going to be none of that.

He'll be struck from living record, like Titus had been. Cato would be lucky to get a little plaque in the deepest pits of the Fortress of Hera. Reduced to a whispered memory of his achievements passed solemnly between Captains, followed up with words of disappointment. Of waste. Until his memory dies with them and his deeds fade into obscurity, lost to any new brothers.

The fate that awaits you would somehow be worse. Cato was always going to die in war, as was his right—but you—you were not fashioned for such things. Yes, Guilliman enjoys you, but that fact won't save you. Just like it won't save Cato for all his usefulness. You'd be tried as a heretic, as a source of corruption upon the Legiones, and you'd be made to suffer; because torture ever comes before execution. You're so very soft weak in so very many ways. Your life lived in a gilded cage, without pain nor discomfort that extends further than grating professional grievances—he doesn't want to imagine the sound of you screaming, but he does.

He cannot stand the thought.

The sudden urge to barricade you in his chambers for permanent safe keeping is all-consuming.

It's suddenly all he can think about.

He has to find you.

The amount of serfs passing and parting to allow his passage thin out to nothing.

Even from the sterile confines of one of the many winding hallways, Cato abruptly swears he can hear the echoed rush of sandals—your sandals—reverberating off the floor.

He hadn't notice you following behind immediately because, damn it, he's spiralling thinking.

He chances a confrontation, and rounds about-face.

You stand there in the middle of the empty hallway like you've got a bolter aimed at you, frozen.

"Come here," he says, clipped.

You do not.

"Come here."

Again, no compliance.

"Do you pride yourself on being a idiot?" His voice is scathing now, taking a heavy step into your space and being met by you staying stock stiff, still. "Do you have any idea what that stunt of yours earlier might incur?"

"What?" You blink, finally animating. "I didn't do anything—"

"You know what you did," he hisses, accusatory. "You're hollow between the ears, but you're not blind."

Lips pursing tightly in mental deliberation, you make a fey noise of annoyance as a little frown graces your features, apparently not deigning to offer a comment back.

"Do you not understand that... this," he gesticulates between you both and his voice falls to a whisper. "This... is not common allowance?"

"It's not?"

Are you being intentionally dense at this point, or is it just second nature?

Cato raises a hand to knead the crease between his brows, "No."

"That explains a lot, actually," you say, seemingly without any real comprehension on the gravity of the matter. "I couldn't find any notes or references on it."

He's genuinely stunned, "Is that what you were doing when—"

"When I was rudely interrupted," you cut in, the comment is nigh a spat insult.

Cato isn't sure what to say to that sudden display of spine, and grumbles.

He surmises the optimal action is complete disregard.

Therefore, he has no problem turning on the heel of his sabatons and starting his pace on again.

"So... this isn't normal by Astartes standards?"

He's taken aback at your abrupt want for conversation after all that. Namely because it's atypical. You never attempted small talk with him. You never do anything but scurry off when he's accosted you for you flagrant overstepping—wait.

He feels as if the paradigm between you both has shifted again since the last time for some reason. More than last time, actually. More than you just simply having the audacity to backtalk him.

It's like some symptom of a deeper sickness rising to the surface.

It makes him unreasonably curious suspicious.

He wants to see just how much ground you'll give, so he plays along and answers, "Not as far as I am aware, no."

You hum, and immediately are at it again, posturing, "Surely you have heard of cases of it happening?"

"I have not," Cato says, and you hum in consideration.

You're satisfied at that information for a brief while, but then he remembers you cannot shut your mouth for more than five minutes, and purses his lips. He's already tiring of your incessant questioning.

"But you'd done it before?"

And that's just great.

You've expertly found an exposed nerve.

More kindling on the bonfire of him having an aneurysm before the cycle's end.

Cato can feel the hint of pressure behind his eyes as he begins increasing his walking speed. "I don't think that is a relevant question."

You haste to stay in step, "It definitely is."

"You ought to learn a civil fucking tongue when you're addressing me, woman," he bites out, nose crinkling into a sneer.

Unperturbed by his short-tempered comment, another thoughtful little 'hmm' slips out of you.

"So, to conclude... you where as inexperienced as I was at the start, and all those gloating insults back then were just projection?" You suddenly blurt out at rather impressive speed, like a politician possessed—before finishing with, "Sorry, 'all those gloating insults back then were just projection,' Commander Sicarius."

Cato grits his teeth and feels his eye twitch.

He stops, turns to look over his pauldron, and stares bloody murder.

He can't even imagine the idiocy in your brain that gave you the imprimatur to say that aloud.

But Throne, the sly little glint in your pretty eyes suddenly has his face thudding with heat.

Then you smile at him for the second time ever.

Cato bites back the urge to ogle you dumbly, and actually feels himself thicken in his body-glove in real time, because oh, fuck—his hind brain practically pelts him across the jaw with the mental pict of that sweet mouth lathing up the side of his cock.

Mentally unseated for a moment, his brows furrow; and he quickly turns away, applying himself entirely to the task of trudging down the stagings.

The silence is a breath of fresh air.

Even if he can still hear your laboured breathing a few steps back him from him. You're straining to keep up with his pace, and it's an excellent punishment for you. His heavy sabatons clank-clank-clank on the steel decking, and your little boots practically pitter-patter in contrast. It's a syncopated rhythm that he's absentmindedly trying to match—and when he lingers for a step he manages to even the beat out.

He hangs a left, and scales the wide stairs to the open intersection platform above two at a time; trying not to snort amusedly at the little groan you let out as you hurry up them behind him, heaving.

Cato realises abruptly that you're actually, really, seriously following him—and pretending you're not.

He makes a right at the top and then waits for you to fall in step.

And, pointedly, he then turns and doubles back around.

You stand there stupefied for a moment, before grumbling softly and continuing down the thoroughfare without him.

If his observation skills hold any weight, he heads straight into the nearest open room and waits for you to follow.

He doesn't activate the locking mechanism on the other side in on purpose when he strides in, and lets the sliding door close behind him.

This particular room is forgettable in its ubiquitousness, though unusual. He has no idea of it's actual intended purpose. It's fitted with screens and database terminals as if it's for debriefing purposes, but he has no real way of confirming. What he can catalogue is that there's wraparound surfaces littered with candles. A few strips of harsh lighting and scant furniture—a tallish counter and a few long benches. They're thankfully Astartes sized.

Which means he can sit down and pray for you to walk right into the metaphorical snare he's just laid.

Not a minute later, the door's sliding mechanism triggers and you scurry through—only to promptly go stiff.

You stare at him like a rat he's just found by lifting a crate.

The mechanism shuts automatically behind you and it apparently spooks you enough to jump a little.

"You're disgustingly predictable," he harrumphs, unimpressed.

A flush rises to your face as you scowl, "You're disgustingly predictable," you shoot back, echoing his words.

Of course, that audacity of yours leads to a short stalemate.

He huffs out a sigh as he concedes out of sheer frustration and says, "Three-seven-five-eight-eight-two-nine-one."

You blink dumbly at him, "...what?"

"It's my locking code," he growls, and Throne, you must be acting stupid just to grate him; because there's no way your brain is so smooth as to not connect the dots. "It's for the door, moron."

A soft 'ohh' leaves you as you turn and step aside to the key pad fixed into the frame.

"Three-seven-five-eight-eight-two-nine-one," he's agonisingly forced to say once again.

"Three-nine-five-eight-eight-two-seven-one..." you mumble to yourself.

Cato hears an angry beep and suddenly wants to smash his head into a wall repeatedly.

Grinding his molars, he snarls, "Three-seven-five-eight-eight-two-nine-one," and then adds, "If I have to repeat that one more time, I'm going to throw you out of the nearest airlock."

And it seems the threat of violence works wonders, because you don't bungle the input this time.

Cato sighs, exasperated, and leans back against the lip of the table behind the bench.

He ought to start carrying around a correctional stun rod. Just for whenever you annoy him. If it's good enough for a Neophyte to suffer, it's good enough for you, he supposes.

Or it'll send you into a seizing fit.

He's not to sure of the maximum voltage a baseline can take without their singular, puny little heart giving out.

One disciplinary option scratched out, then.

But he can think of many, many more to make a model Ambassador out of you. The wonders of carefully applied violence are plentiful. A little roughing up never hurts, or at least, not for long. And fuck, do you need some lessons on proper manners. He could have you smacked into shape like a show pony in no time—even if it'd be more like teaching a grox to trot lateral movements. Then again, he also believes if he stuck a frag far enough up a Carnifex's ass, he could probably get it to play Regicide.

And then pointedly, he starts thinking about your ass.

Cato is so utterly lost on the tangent of hypotheticals that he's flabbergasted when a small mouth lands on his own.

He hadn't even been paying attention.

He hadn't even noticed you'd neared.

It feels like the breath has been knocked out him at the sheer unexpectedness of it.

The kiss is hasty, your eyes scrunched shut and cheeks flushed, scowling with focus.

All the while, his mind reels because Throne, the contact of his lips to yours doesn't really feel particularly profound aside from how soft your skin is—but the intention of it is the real reward.

Cato's genuinely infuriated when you pull away.

You blink owlishly at him, giving him a cautious look like you're trying to gauge his reaction.

There are a thousand things he wants to ask, to say, but the foremost among them is but one.

"Again," he huffs, lessening the distance between you just enough to invite you back.

And he thinks that perhaps he’s abusing his station over you, but when you tentatively find a hold on his gorget to steady yourself to give him another kiss—those thoughts are all but erased from his mind. It's a curious weight off his shoulders to have you initiate and to show you want him in return, especially since it's as new to you as it is for him.

Nonetheless, he can't even imagine finding a reason to stop you, so he starts blindly mouthing; trying to coordinate around the fact he's so much larger than you.

The angle is difficult, but he's willing to follow your lead. Your body is even more fragile when he's in full armour. The risk of actually hurting you is realer than ever, but he can't help the desire to wrap an gauntlet around your waist and pull you closer to him. Thankfully, you let him when he urges you to, trembling hands flitting across his chestplate like you're unsure of what, exactly, you should be holding—and he catches the tiny line between your brows smoothing out as you risk a peek. Only for you to yelp, nervously wrenching yourself back in flustered surprise upon meeting his unwavering stare.

It's as if you expected something else.

He senses he's made a mistake of some kind.

Then he remembers from the motion-picts he's not supposed to keep glaring at you when kissing.

Regardless, he studies your face, memorising the lingering want still clearly there like his life depends on it.

He pulls you in and kisses you again, just because he can, this time brief and chaste. And then he goes for a third, fourth—fifth, each time slightly longer, until finally he rears back; and when he does you push up on your toes just a little, trying to chase him, but lose the nerve; although to Cato the reason for your faltering is, frankly, irrelevant. Because just like him, you lack the practical capacity to really know what next step you should take. Still, you look down at his armour, as if there's a latch to pull that magically undoes all his wargear.

He knows he's not going to get himself out of his armour in any reasonable way or amount of time.

There's no way he's getting the satisfaction of having you on him right now—but he still wants to keep you near.

He thinks he hears you ask for something, but he's too distracted to catch it in time.

"What?" Cato scowls, "What do you want now?"

It's clear you've been struck by your own embarrassment, strung up somewhere between shy and wanton, "I.. uh..."

"Spit it out," he rumbles.

You wince, hesitant as you mumble, "You, uh... i-in me."

Cato's brain skids to a halt. And it's the gall of that request alone that has him sweeping you up off the ground and spinning you around to sit in his lap.

It's obvious you're overwhelmed at being held to the formidably larger size of himself in full-plate. But as usual, you're yet to actively complain. Using his vambrace as a leg-bar to scoop under your thighs, he folds you in his grasp—your knees pressed to your chest as you're tucked back against his pauldron and chestplate.

The angle forces the hems of your robe aside, and he can see the underside curve of your ass; along with the plump mound of your vulva under the white of your small-clothes.

Cato's suddenly offended by their existence. You didn't wear any last time, so why now? The irritation of there being one more thing between you and him is enough justification to yank at them, tearing them loose—before throwing them aside.

You grumble sourly, which he chooses to ignore.

The palm of his gauntlet smooths across your hip, and you make a small hugg as you shiver, goose-bumps suddenly covering your exposed flesh.

Cato lets the pads graze closer and closer to your sex, content to watch you impatiently glare at his armoured fingers from between the gap of your thighs.

With little preamble, he's stuffing his middle in. You're already so wet it's practically a cake-walk. Your cunt swallows down each articulating segment of his armoured finger down to the knuckle. The fact he's going to have to personally scrub your slick out from between the joints, instead of a lowly serf, is infinitely worth the shrill whine he receives as tribute.

"Would that my wargear had a zipper," he breathes, and fuck, he grins behind the obscurity of his gorget at the mournful mewl that remark earns. "I'd have you on your knees sucking for all the cunted trouble you've caused me."

You're making a warp-awful attempt at keeping yourself together, high-strung as you evidently are. Little more than a minute of him pumping his finger in and out of you has you red-faced and panting. All it takes to get those heavy breaths of yours to change into proper whines is his large thumb-pad adjusting to rest on your clit, applying pressure. You jerk, reflexively trying to buck into every motion. Fighting and failing to withhold the stuffy little moans escaping you—trying to stave off the inevitable by scrambling at the thigh plating of his power armour with one hand and tugging at his couter with the other.

Some part of Cato wants to stop solely out of spite for you being so grating earlier, or some other stupid mercurial justification of his; but instead, he simply continues, letting you squirm on his fingers.

And squirm you do.

It's clear to him the tide of it all is becoming too much for you to resist. Your sandal'd feet kick out where he's got your legs secured, joining in on the struggling as it begins anew when his thumb starts circling. It's a good sign, so he adds his pointer into you to bolster the stretch, curling in; before letting his fingers fan out inside you, stretching rather than stabbing. Your hips try to stutter forward in time with the quick thrusting of his digits, broken whimpers resonating off the room's walls. He promptly stuffs down to the knuckle and curls them again—and you all but bleat his surname as you're dragged into a fast and apparently exhausting orgasm. Just knowing he's you got you beat has his erection ache where it's trapped under the suiting and plating of his navel.

Cato can't feel you clenching through all the layers separating his skin from yours, but he knows from experience that you're seizing in fits internally—tight little cunt trying to milk a load out of an Astartes cock that should've been stuffed in you.

Just to allow himself one last bit of smugness, he scissors his fingers; giving a final swirl for good measure.

The shivered sob is worth every possible future disciplinary action he'll receive.

He pulls his gauntlet away slowly, and the wet shlick of it leaving you is almost amusingly alike pulling a blade from sinew. It's a degenerate comparison, he knows, but it's true.

Nonetheless, he splays out his hand and swallows dryly, eyeing the sticky, clear liquid webbing out and thinning between each ridge of his gauntlet'd digits.

Suddenly focused entirely on the fluid on his fingers, he pulls his vambrace barring under your knees up away. Now limp, and without the support, you slide off his lap and onto the floor in a slow slump.

"Nn-ngh," You groan weakly, face-down, legs still juddering a little.

Seeing as you're preoccupied, Cato doesn't even dignify the concept of hesitation, and promptly jams his fingers in his mouth—lathing the aftermath of your orgasm from them. And Throne, the taste of your hormones make him groan. He's absolutely stunned, unsure of how to act. He's so fucking stupid, why didn't he do this earlier? He's practically drugged by the omophagic aftereffect—getting off on your second hand bliss. Some sort of fey feedback loop in his brain catalysing his next decision solely on instinct.

He clambers to the floor and gets to his knees guards, securing a mitt on your bared thigh to roll you onto your back.

Apparently boneless with afterglow, you're easy to manhandle.

You barely have the strength to do much more than crane your head up at him and whine as he arranges your thighs apart, settling on his front between them with a warp-awful clank; before lifting your legs up to rest onto either lip of his gorget.

You try to scud back on your ass suddenly, but are quickly halted when he holds you fast by the hip.

He raises a confused brow.

"I-Isn't—" you start, still gathering the scraps of your brain together so soon post-orgasm, "Isn't y-your saliva acid?"

Cato suddenly wants to cuff you on the ear, "Who the hell told you that?"

"M-Master Calgar," you mumble.

Oh, of course, the gossiping hen.

He's going to have words with the Lord Defender of Greater Ultramar the next time they meet—words like 'for fuck sakes, stop scaring the woman he's trying to eat out with talk of Betcher's gland, Marneus,' come to mind, but then Cato realises that doesn't sound like he's not fucking you, so he quickly settles on: 'stop dignifying the Ambassador's hundred-and-one insane questions.'

"Not Ultramarines," Cato manages not to snarl, "It's a vestigial organ in most of us."

Your voice is shaky as you parrot, "Most of us?"

"Yes," He grunts, and promptly buries his face in your cunt.

The disproportion in size is painfully apparent when he realises his whole damned tongue is able to drag a stripe up the entire splay of you with minimal effort.

The pitched gasp he wins out of you is pure sin, and he's on the brink of swooning; but then you're running your trap again.

"Please, d-don't tell me you're one that can spit acid—" you manage to warble, seemingly still stuck on the topic.

Cato sighs as he's forced to pull away from your vulva, "I think you're forgetting I had my tongue on your tonsils in the library."

"Th-that's different," you stammer. "That's not as sensitive."

A long, unimpressed deadpan paints itself on his face.

"So," he starts with a bated hiss, "And let me be perfectly clear in this—you believe your vagina is more susceptible to burns than your mouth?"

Your face transforms into a strange mix of embarrassed and angry.

"I didn't say that—"

"Yes, you did," Cato grumbles.

"Did not," you huff.

"You—you just fucking did," he snaps, frustrated enough that he can feel one of the veins at his temple bulge. "The implication is obvious, you insufferable little whore."

You snort, but stay silent.

The argument appears, for all intents and purposes, to be finished.

"Did not," you say abruptly once more, pouting.

Cato's eyes roll back in his skull as he grits his teeth.

"Throne of Terra, if you don't drop the subject, acid in your cunt will be the least of your worries," he all but snarls, and that apparently quietens you enough that he can get back to lapping at you—the flat of his tongue running over your clit and earning a jolt.

He wraps his lips around the pink little nub and sucks. And that's all it apparently takes to make up for his amateur career in the practice.

You siphon down a sharp breath and let out a garbled cry, hips canting forward into his mouth—to which he obligingly stuffs his tongue into your slick entrance.

There's a satisfaction well beyond simple pleasure that swamps him at the way your thighs shake either side of his head. His own breath is hot about him, stuffy and dizzying; and the skin pressed against his cheeks is warm and smooth.

You're panting when he goes back to lapping over your clit, perching yourself up on a bent elbow and reaching out a hand.

Your fingers card through the messed brown hair atop his head. And he stiffens without realising—but he realises something: like this, the touch is ecstasy—pure, golden ecstasy. Every bit of higher thought in his head evaporates when you stroke him again.

A long, rumbling subvocal moan tears from him.

The infrasound vibration makes you buck weakly into his mouth again, teary eyed afore him as he adjusts his grip on you and crawls closer.

He's suddenly acutely aware that in this new, much more prone position, he's able to grind his body armour into his groin guard pressed on the floor. And as soon as the action bears results—namely a scorching burr of pleasure racing up his spine—he's deadset on rutting against the ground like a slavering beast.

He's frotting himself at a pace so rabid it'd cruel to subject your cunt to. It's brutal, and the harsh scraping sound of plasteel on steel only further proves that. It's just frantic lust—he's desperate.

It's complete insanity how close to finishing he is so quickly.

Not as close as you, though.

He can feel how your legs jump with each pass of his tongue; and then you're unraveling in front of his very eyes.

"I-I can't—I can't, S-Sicarius, I-I—" You ramble, dazed, trying to get away as he works you right through it, sobbing and oversensitive while he's rutting himself closer and closer to his own end.

It all comes to a head when your fingers dig into his hair, tugging—and his brain is overrun with static. A drawn out groan scathes from his maw as any sense of rhythm scatters like light through a prism. For a fraction of a second, the pleasure is serene.

Then it's abject agony, he feels—he feels like Roboute Guilliman himself has just taken a running start and kicked him in the balls.

"F-Fuck–ing—gh—" he chokes, vision swimming, straining against the tide of the torment. His back arches up, and he curls inward on himself; white-hot pain clocking his nervous system into overdrive. Every muscle in his abdomen is doused in acid. He's tolerated being shot, stabbed, burnt without so much as blinking—but this is an entirely new and entirely different sort of wound. It's like he's pissing promethium. It's—it's the catheter, he realises. He'd forgotten about the bloody catheter jammed up his cock.

Through the searing ordeal, he manages to force his armour's facilities to finally abide his impulses and dose him with a pain dampener.

And then everything's fine.

He opens eyes he wasn't aware he'd closed and finds your face has suddenly gotten far closer to his.

"S-Sicarius?" You stammer, and there's an honest panic in your voice. "Sicarius, p-please, please—a-are you okay?"

He realises he's on his back, and you're sitting beside him, half draped on his chestplate, frantically trying to figure out what's wrong with him to no avail.

You've leaned in so close he can feel your rushed breathing.

"I'm fine," Cato groans, and you sputter out a sigh.

"I-I don't know what happened, I-I—" you're still wildly confused and raving, and he inhales deeply; only to be greeted by the sour animal stink of fear practically dripping from you.

Cato rolls his tongue around inside his mouth and cringes knowingly at the foaming side-effect of the chem he'd self-administered, the acrid taste mixed with your slick is certainly not an ideal cocktail.

The sincerity of concern behind your reaction is baffling. He's not made of glass, for fuck sakes—and he's a bit pissy about the fact you'd actually fallen victim to the idea of him suffering some grievous injury so easily. But he supposes where there's a will of baseline overreaction, there's a way.

"You're acting like a child, woman. Pull yourself together," he sighs hoarsely, hoping the comment jars you out of your hysteria—or at the very least scares you off.

It does exactly neither, and you sidle in closer and rest your cheek on his jaw.

It’s an action so overwhelmingly horribly affectionate that it would’ve been a crime to not press into it with a lean of his head. Or, at least, that's the half-assed justification he tells himself.

Because he's loving enduring your attention, not seeking it; and therefore only humouring you when he lifts a hand and settles the wide splay of it on your flank as a comfort.

He shouldn't be, but he is.

[ramonathinks]

(18+, minors/blank accounts dni)

jealous ex husband gojo who just can't keep stand seeing you with someone else. he hates that you gave up on him, hates that you don't wear your ring anymore even though he does and he wears it proudly.

"you have a date tonight, the girls tell me." busted. you cringe and eye you little daughters, only six the both of them but you told them to keep quiet about the situation.

"yes..." you reply, anxiously awaiting his response.

you could just picture his face now, nose a bit flared and lips pursed. with clenched teeth he said, "alright, have fun." but it wasn't that simple.

he always kept close watch on you and it made you nervous with how simple it left the conversation. "well, i could come pick the girls up before then. about 8-ish?" he asks and you say yes before hanging up.

gojo was always too busy which was what led to the divorce. you'd both married young, 20 and stayed together since but when the girls turned 3 you had enough and just left. he wasn't being there enough for you or the girls and it hurt.

when he pulled up you cursed yourself for getting ready so early. your hair in long curls and a knee length skirt with a small slit on the left leg. he didn't bothering knocking or waiting for you to open the door, he had keys and you knew this so you continued with your makeup.

he was standing there watching you but you ignored him. or tried to but he walked closer and closer until he was right in your face. "how beautiful, you are." he held your jaw and forced you to look at him.

"why don't you ditch this date and come with me?" he asked, bringing your lower reign to his. "don't you miss me baby?" he nipped at your skin and the memories and feelings were coming back.

you had to be strong. you swallowed and pulled his back from you. "you have to stop this, im sure you have someone out there satoru, but she isn't me." you tried to walk off but he grabbed your wrist and brought you to your bedroom.

"y/n, so you think anyone can make you feel as good as i make you feel? don't you know i love you? my feelings never left and i know yours haven't." he rubs you through your panties and kisses you on your lips.

"everything can be different now." he promises, easing his way between your legs. his heavy cock entering you slowly, it was only the tip so far but it was splitting you open. you'd been without sex for two years and now tears were in your eyes.

"you think he can fill you up like me?" he adjusts himself and enters more of his cock into you. he was still so big, you were choking. you could feel him in your tummy and in your throat.

"you're always going to be mine, so stop running." he told you as he jerked his hips. "stop trying to let this go baby?"

"satoru—"

"mommy! the door!" one of the girls yelled.

"shh," satoru brought a finger to your lips and leaned forward to make love to your mouth. it was too much and you both were drooling after just a few minutes, he pulled himself out of you and looked at his wet cock.

"think about what i said." it was hard to forget. you clenched your legs together after you cleaned yourself up, not even wanting to face your date.

not even wanting to face your ex-husband either.

[thinkinonsense]

old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl *mdni

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something smutty so if it sucks im sorry lmao also if any writers have any tips please share! :)

logan has been around for long enough to know when a woman is attracted to him. there was a certain essence given off that was always a dead giveaway. usually it came from women close to the age he looked like and it tended to be brief moments of lust before all hope was lost. this was until he met you.

the pretty young girl working at the diner during her time off from college. everyday, he came in and ordered a black coffee. the coffee wasn't even that good but logan would spend two dollars every single day of his life if it came with the view of you bending over in that tiny uniform skirt.

logan would watch you for hours while he drank and skimmed the news paper alone in a booth. your hair was always up in either a ponytail or held together with a hair clip. he loved seeing your pretty handwriting as you scribbled on your notepad, taking orders. it was part of your job to be nice to everyone but you were especially nice to him. even your friends began to notice how you would linger by his table, constantly topping off his coffee mug and making small talk; sometimes giving him a slice of cherry pie on the house.

"don't you think he's kinda old for you?" one of your friends whispers to you behind the counter.

it's stung but you suppose she had a point. what would a man old enough to be your father want with a young wild girl like yourself?

"i-i guess so?" you stuttered, embarrassed at your previous attempt at flirting with him.

the rest of the night, you hoped he would leave before close so you could have some time alone with your feelings. summer was almost over and you would go back to the city soon. it was time to forget these silly fantasizes.

by ten, all the other waitresses went home except you, the older woman in the back who counted the drawer every night, and a few of the cooks. the only customer still there was logan. he flipped through one of the books he brought with him; still sipping away at that damn coffee.

"isn't it getting a little late for you, sweetheart?" he asked nonchalantly, not even looking up at you as you bent over to scrub the table next to his. the fifth table you've cleaned in the last hour and the second time you've cleaned that specific table. logan noticed but you didn't.

"need the hours." you mumble, frustrated by a stubborn stain. all logan could focus on was your scrunched nose and how your tight top pushed your boobs together just right for his viewing. "college is fucking expensive plus grants and scholarships only cover so much."

"hmm.." logan grunts. grants? scholarship? what a goody fucking two shoes, logan thought to himself. "if you bring me piece of pie, i think i can help you out."

you lean off the table and go get what's left in the glass container. it's probably a little hard so you definitely didn't plan on charging him for it. you sit the plate down in front of him and before you could turn around to walk away, logan reaches for your wrist softly.

"join me." he offers.

you knew you shouldn't but what was really the harm? at least your friends weren't here to make fun of you. the radio played quietly on an older station while you watched logan take a bite of the pie.

"why did your friends leave you here alone?" he asked, watching your face turn sour at the memory of them.

"don't wanna talk about it." your voice was small in the empty diner.

"why? think an old man like me can't relate to it?" logan chuckles. your thighs squeeze together without thinking. so much for not embarrassing yourself.

"no, no, not that." you shake your head and a strand of hair falls from your bun. "just sort of juvenile, you know?"

logan could tell that you were trying to come off more mature around him. you didn't want him to see you as some college kid.

"juvenile, how?" he eggs on, pushing down his glasses a bit.

god, those glasses got to you; and logan knew it.

"they don't understand how i feel about someone." you sigh.

"how do you feel about this person?" logan noticed you now avoiding his gaze, not liking it one bit. "eyes on me, princess."

the nickname caught you off guard like a dear in headlight; blinking and trembling up at logan. something logan enjoyed very much and could get used to.

"it's not important, just some stupid crush." you lie through your teeth. "they will forget about me in a month."

"why don't you think it'll work?" he cocks his head to the side a bit. "you're a pretty young thing, dollface. anyone of those college boys would be lucky to be wrapped around your little finger."

"i don't want college boys." you mumble, slightly annoyed by the memory of your friends.

logan felt himself getting hard at you admitting you had a taste for someone older. his eyes grew dark as he leaned in a little over the table.

"then what do you want?"

your moment to answer was interrupted by the older woman from the back, releasing you to go home for the evening. this was your chance to get up and leave before you admitted anything else that you would regret.

both of you stood up. logan threw down some cash while you went to collect your stuff behind the counter.

"i'll see you tomorrow, lo-"

"you didn't answer the question."

"i must go now if i want to catch the last train."

logan worried about you taking the train back to your apartment alone this late at night. usually you drive back but your car has been in the shop for almost three days now. he would watch you get to your car every night to make sure you were safe.

"i can drive you home." logan offers.

you shouldn't be this excited to be sitting in a strangers truck alone at night but here you were. the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before logan brought up the conversation from the diner again. what did you even want?

"i want someone who understands me..." you begin rattling off the first things that come to mind when you notice logan's hand on your knee. you don't dare move.

"someone who is responsible..." with every word, his hand creeps higher and higher up your skirt. logan is more than pleased when he notices your legs spread on their own.

"someone who is m-mature..." logan's fingers inch towards the delicate skin of your inner thigh. there's no way this was happening, you thought as his index finger plays with the lace on the center of your pink underwear. he smirked at the wet spot front and center, waiting for him.

"treats me r-r-right." every word was a struggle to form as he stroked you softly. back and forth. back and forth.

logan nods along, not letting up down below. his index finger hooks onto your underwear, pulling it aside. you weren't even sure if you were breathing at this point; all this teasing was torture.

"p-p-please, logan..." you whine. "touch me."

his thumb rubs tiny circles on your button, adoring the way his name pours from your glossy lips. your hands fly to his wrists, needing more; nails digging into his skin in the most delicious way.

"where did this greediness come from?" logan groans, dipping his index finger inside of you. "what happened to that good girl from the diner?"

logan's finger barely fit in the tight space. your head fell back and a loud moan escaped you.

"oh, you weren't letting those college boys touch you at all, huh?" logan mocks, adding another finger and creating a steady pace.

"n-no!" you whine, lifting your hips a little.

"you were waiting for a real man to have his way with you, isn't that right, pretty girl?" he growls, pushing your hips back down.

you completely missed logan pulling off to the side of the road until now. his pace increases becoming rather rough now that he isn't driving. logan leaves deep purple bruises down your neck and across your chest, praising you to no end until you gush around his fingers, completely soaking his palm.

your heart pounded like you had just finished a marathon. logan allowed you to catch your breath as he carefully removed his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick clean. he can feel your dazy eyes staring at him as he does so, making a real show of it.

"i've been wanting to do that for months now." he admits with a smirk.

"me too." you said, leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss; tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. logan wraps his hands around your hair, pulling you back a little when another moan falls from your lips.

"and we aren't even close to being done."

[leesalchemybook]

I have discovered there's now a tipping option on here :0 would people hate me if I turned it on? i don't know what the views/attitude towards it are on here. would people see it and turn their noses up at me and my blog/content, or would they cheer me on and be like yeah get that bread or something! or would people laugh because i'm not a good enough artist to ask for tips or get paid for my work? D:

[allbark-no-bite]

good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

————————————————————————

You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of  your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction. 

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

[lxnarphase]

GOOD MORNING, BABY

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...ft. : h. hiromi + k. shiu + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. aoi

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, breeding kink, sukuna is a dickhead, shiu really loves his girl, hiromi loses his shit, aoi is a great boyfriend, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!

who does it to tease you ↴

✧ k. shiu ; he's slow, purposefully grinding right against your sex, his cock leaking precum all over your thighs when he pushes through them. shiu thinks it’s so fucking cute how you try to grind against nothing in your sleep, he can’t help but tease you a little bit, a little smirk on his face at all your reactions

“always makin' me do all the work, aren't ya? hm, got a pretty lil' pillow princess on my hands...” “your man had such a tough day, and your here all comfy and sweet, waiting for me t' touch you. tsk, should've come home sooner, didn't mean to leave my girl waiting." “god, always loved how damn soft you are, angel. mm, so so soft and warm, jus' for me. don't worry, i'll wake you up with my cock cummin' all over your pretty skin.”

✧ h. kinji ; to be fair, you caused this. you teased the poor man all day, and kinji knows he's getting you back when you telling him you're gonna take a nap, rubbing your hands against his chest while wearing nothing but his t-shirt. since you're soooo eager to tease, he had no issues with teasing you back.

“hm? going to pretend you sleep? c'mon, sweetheart, don’t you want to be fucked? you're so fuckin' cute when y'wanna try and be stubborn, hun." "i know you’re awake, i see your pretty eyes trying not to open. all you have to do is open them and i’ll stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead.” “thaaat’s it, baby, tha's my girl. rubbing up against me while looking so pretty. let’s give you a reward, hm? gonna pop the tip in an' see how fast we can get ya to cry for the rest of it.”

who does it because they are desperate ↴

✧ h. hiromi ; there’s no knowing what caused him to snap, but hiromi comes home practically feral. it's hot, so hot as he quickly takes off all his clothes, uncaring about his expensive suit jacket on the floor. he’s been thinking about you ever since he left his office, thinking about every curve of your body, every sweet noise you’d make, and how delicious you sound saying his name.

“honey, wake up, please. ’m not fucking you until you wake up and look at me. you're not getting my cock til you look at me.” “beg? oh, no, no, no, pretty thing, no teasing and no playing around. the only one that’s going to beg is you, baby. now stop being a little brat and be good for me, yeah? don't wanna punish you, not when you look so cute right now." "how about i just fuck your thighs and, cum all on them? you want my cum to go to waste? or do you want to be fucked full of my cum like a good girl? make your fucking choice.”

who wakes you up ↴

✧ r. sukuna ; sukuna doesn’t even go to thigh fucking, he skips that. no, he’s grumpy his sleep was interrupted by the annoying rush of blood to his dick. so now, he's biting your thighs, sucking on them before going down on you, using his tongue and fingers to prep you lazily shoving his stupidly big cock inside you, humming when you moan yourself awake.

“look who's awake. took you long enough, I put so much effort into making you feel good before I shoved my dick inside ya. hey, don't smack my tits, brat, i'll bite your damn hand off.” “hm? you want me to move? mm. why should i? ...because i woke you up? tch...you're lucky you're s' fucking pretty or i'd just jerk off and cum all over your face.” "fuck, always take me in s' fuckin' good...i trained this cunt right, now she knows how t' handle my cock. 'member when you couldn't even take half of it in? look at you now, turned ya into my nasty little cockslut."

✧ t. aoi ; you fell asleep in aoi's lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your head against his shoulder. the thigh fucking was supposed to happen, yes, but you were tired, opting out for cockwarming him as he watched whatever show he put on. but then you started squirming around, whining so cutely in your sleep. how could he not take care of his girl?

“oh, hiii, bunny...you’re finally awake? hey, shhh, shh, 's okay, i've got ya. feels real good, right? y'just sounded so cute, i couldn' help myself, pretty, you were squeezing me so tight.” “too slow? do you want me to go faster, darling? all you have to do is ask....heh, no, 'm not being mean! i just think you're cute all sleepy, is all.” “it’s hitting deep? yeah? maybe i should lift you higher and slam you down to see how deep i really can go.”

[luvyeni]

𐙚 : SOMEONE WALKING IN ON YOU W/ ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE (reaction) ֶָ֢ !

content warning. oral ( f. receiving ), unprotected sex, getting caught, mean dom sunghoon

request: reaction to being cockblocked with enhypen plzz 🩷?

authors note. i hope you like it 🤍😌!!!

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

𐙚 : HEESEUNG ֶָ֢ !

neither one of you would notice at the moment, but will quickly question it when it's long over and you're just laying in bed — both of you fucked out completely unaware you've just traumatized someone. "sh-shit." heeseung held your thighs as you rocked your hips back and forth. "fu-fuck you feel so good -shit- please go faster." he groaned, his hand squeezing your boob as you bounced on his cock, your cunt squeezing perfectly around him , forcing a whimper like moan out of him. "shit im gonna cum." he breathed. "im gonna fucking cum." both of you were moaning and groaning, trying to chase your highs — that neither one of you noticed jake who quickly walked muttering a sorry , both of you continuing on until you reached your climax. it wasn't until you both were finished, laying against his chest watching a movie that you couldn't shake the feeling. "seung?" your boyfriend hummed, eyes still on the movie. "did someone walk in on us?" he turned to you. "i dont know." he shrugged. "why do you ask that?" you sat up. "i swear i could've heard jake." heeseung checked his phone and sure enough there was the text message 'lock the fucking door if you're gonna have sex in the dorm' he smirked putting his phone down. "well i guess he did." your face heated up. "im so embarrassed." he laughed. "baby it's fine , he probably barely saw anything." he said, kissing your temple. "i guess."

"but it would be kinda hot if he did though."

𐙚 : JAY ֶָ֢ !

it don't think jay would have sex in the dorms; let alone forget to lock the door; so it would most likely happen in the morning, and then he'd be too tired to even be really mad, but he would be a little annoyed. "jay." he sighed feeling you place kisses along his neck, his eyes that were closed; fluttering open. "i-i need you." he cursed as you guided his hand into his pants, feeling your wet cunt on his finger tips. "i thought about you." he groaned , turning to face you, slotting his thigh into between your legs. "yeah?" he watched you get off on his leg. "what you dream about princess?" you struggled to tell him ,he wasn't helping bucking thigh. "fu-fuck jay, m-more, i need you." he freed his cock from his pajama pants , ready to slip inside your warm waiting cunt. poor sunoo didn't know that, he just wanted to know if you both wanted breakfast; opening the bedroom door; jay was quick to cover your bodies , sighing heavily against your back. "hyung— sunoo knock please." he tried to not sound annoyed, but he also wanted sunoo to get the hit, and the young boy did. "i-i'm sorry." he quickly left, closing the door. "that was so embarrassing." you whined, he kissed your shoulders to soothe you.

"next time we'll just wait and lock the door."

𐙚 : JAKE ֶָ֢ !

shameless mother fucker does not care, if you're here they should know to not come inside his room. "fu-fuck jake wait." you grabbed his hair, trying to stop him from lapping at your cunt the way he was, covering your mouth to keep from moaning out. "pretty pussy taste so good." he licked your clit. "i need to taste you so more." he hooked your legs , the feeling off your legs closing around his head made his cock jump in his pants. now you two were being loud, but your moans didn't stand a chance against heeseung who had his headphones in, opening the door to see of jake wanted to play the game, only to register what was happening and turning right on his heels, walking out. "ja-jake." you pushed at the boys — who seemingly didn't even register what was happening, and kept going. "fuck, i thought you locked the door s-someone—" jake finally pulled away from your cunt , his face covered in your essence along with a cheshire like smile.

"you must've like it princess, your pretty little pussy clenched as soon the door opened."

𐙚 : SUNGHOON ֶָ֢ !

annoyed as hell, but doesn't stop; no he keeps going, you feel too good for him to stop now. "fu-fucking hell." he hissed his hands tangled in your hair, your ass bouncing back against him. "that's right, fuck yourself on me." he slapped your ass. "sunghoon fuck!" your head was thrown back as he plowed into your cunt, his balls slapping against your cunt , sweat dripping down your body as you both went at it like wild rabbits. "fucking wet cunt." he growled. "gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my cum." both of you were ready to cum, when the door opened, a frightened jay who heard a yelp thinking someone was hurt, quickly realized that it wasn't that type of yelp— immediately shut the door, sunghoon just fucked your poor cunt harder. "fu-fucking hell can't get any privacy in this dorm." he hissed, tears wielding in your eyes as he abused your poor cunt, he slapped your ass extra hard. "don't think i didn't feel your slutty pussy clenching around my dick when he came in."

"fucking slut, you like when people watch you being fucked past your limits."

©️LUVYENI

[tinyluvs]

Giving Spencer a blow job for the first time?

ooh i’ve had a few requests for this 🤭 tysm! angel! *mdni!!*

"sorry angel," spencer sighs when you gasp at his cock hardening against your ass, "it'll go away," he hums pressing a kiss against your shoulder, leaving his lips there for a few seconds afterwards

he angles his hips away from you, causing you to whine slightly, "why are you sorry?" you ask quietly, doing your best to turn around to face him, your chest pressed against his

it wasn't a secret to you that spencer had never really done anything with someone else, apart from a few kisses here and there but it was your fault he was hard, you'd tried to get comfy and in turn had wiggled your ass against his crotch just a few too many times

spencer's eyes flutter shut, long lashes touching his cheek, when your noses brush, "baby?" you prompt him, with a gentle kiss against the corner of his mouth, "why are you sorry?"

"because," he pauses, his fingers pinching lightly at your waist, "i've never, you know, well i know how to i just haven't ever done it, with someone," he rambles ever so quietly against your mouth

you hum and smile softly against his jaw, "would you like to? with me?" you ask, letting your fingers slide just under the waistband of his pyjama trousers

"i don't know how to," he repeats, his fingers moving from your waist to wrap gently around your wrist. you stop, waiting to see if he pulls your hand away from him but he doesn't, he just holds you there

"i know," you say with a slight grunt as you rearrange your bodies until you're hovering over him, knees pressed against his hips, "let me teach you something for once,"

spencer gasps when you kiss him, his chin tilting upwards to chase you as you pull away, "you don't have to," he pants, watching you shuffle down his body and into the space between his legs

"i want to," you assure him, eyes flickering from his face and down to his cock, still very hard and pressing against his trousers. your tongue darts over your bottom lip as you lean in, nudging the hem of his t-shirt up with your nose

you trail kisses over his hips, sucking and licking gently at the soft skin, smirking against him when he starts to roll his hips against you, "oh god," he whimpers, fingers pushing through your hair

"you okay?" you check in, pulling the waistband of his trousers away from him, he nods at you, his tongue pressed between his lips, "lift up baby," you hum, tapping as his hip

spencer rolls his hips again, lifting them up just enough for you to tug the fabric down his thighs, letting his cock spring free. your mouth waters at the sight of him, thick, long and leaking pre come over himself

your thumb traces over a vein on the underside of him, following it upwards until you get to the tip. spencer moans at the friction, titling his head back against the arm of the couch while his fingers start to tighten in your hair

"fuck spence," you breathe hard as you start to rub over his slit, watching intently as his cock leaks against your fingers. following the same vein, you kiss up the length of him, stopping when your lips are smeared with pre come

"please, fuck sweetheart," spencer pants, looking down at you with soft, desperate eyes. slowly you lower your mouth onto him, eyes fluttering shut as you start to suckle

you know you're teasing him, moving down his cock too slowly but he sounds so good, whining and moaning when your tongue presses against him, your cheeks hollowing as he hits the back of your throat

"b-baby, god," he moans, pushing down slightly on the back of your head. you hum around him, sending vibrations tickling over his cock. spencer groans loudly, his hips pushing up again, causing you to choke around him, "honey, im so so-"

your eyes flicker up, looking at him through your lashes, keeping the eye contact as you start to suck him off, moving your mouth up and down his length, your lips stretched wide around him

spencer's jaw drops, a string of moans tumbling past his lips that has you whimpering. spit and pre come leak from the corner of your mouth, dribbling down the base of him that won't fit in your mouth, gently you wrap your fingers around him, sliding your hand up and down slowly

"sweetheart i'm not going to, fuck, last," he hiccups, the hand he has in your hair starts to move, pushing you down and pulling you back up, bobbing you on his cock while tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes

you do your best to make an uh huh sound around him, not wanting to take your mouth off of him just yet. he starts to twitch in your mouth, veins pulsing against your tongue as you lick upwards before flicking just under the head of his cock

tears start to spill down your face, rendering you a complete state between that and the mess spilling from the corners of your mouth. you reposition yourself so that your free hand can ghost over his balls, barely touching them

"p-please, oh, don't tease," spencer whines, his back arching slightly, his stomach tensing. he's close and you know it so you go all in, sucking him off with earnest, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock while the other gently rolls his balls

spencer starts to moan and grunt loudly, barely taking a moment to breathe in between it all. his hips stutter, pushing the tip of his cock into your throat

"fuck, baby, oh god," he rambles loudly, "y-you're so good at this, so good," he whines, his voice breaking slightly, you look up, eyes widening when you see a few stray tears running down his cheeks

a moan tries to escape you but it gets trapped in your throat, your muscles contracting around him, "oh fuck, wha- how're you doing that, please, i'm gonn-"

without much of a warning spencer comes, loudly. your eyes snap shut, come spilling down your throat in long, warm ropes that never seem to end. you do your best to swallow fast enough to keep up but to no avail, come runs down your chin

"holy shit," you choke, voice raw, when you pull off of him. you use the back your hand to wipe over your face, come, spit and tears leaving stains on the sleeve of your hoodie, "you okay?" you pant, resting your forehead on spencer's hip

"perfect," your boyfriend replies, voice slow and lazy, post orgasm haze setting in fast. his fingers scratch slightly at your head, "i love you, so much"

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

if you’d like to read the part two of spencer eating you out directly after this you can do so !! here !!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

tell me if there’s any mistakes! i tried to proofread but i’m tired 😌

[evie-sturns]

𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙪𝙩𝙨 - 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤

summary: chris is by far the best boyfriend you could've asked for, he's sweet, caring and adores you, except for when it comes to hooking up.. he fucks you like he hates your guts.

warnings: smut, slight choking, rough chris, hair pulling, fluff, aftercare (lots of it), swearing.

---—-----------------≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫----------------------

♫..he loves me but he fucks me like he hates my guts...♫

3:37pm

chris and I have spent the past few hours together around the mall, and he hasn't let me pay for anything.

"oh my goodness chris look!" i exclaim, pointing towards Brandy Melville, he laughs softly as i drag him by his wrist towards the entrance.

"don't you go here every day?" he asks with a wide grin, "no..." i cheekily smile back.

i pick out a small pyjama set, holding it up to chris's eye level. "i think i should buy it" i say, digging through my purse for my card. he nods slowly, "hey gorgeous, i'll hold that for you okay?" chris takes the set off me, holding it with 2 fingers.

before i can process whats going on hes at the counter swiping his card. my eyebrows scrunch, "chris stop!" i say, trotting over to him.

"my treat" he says stupidly back, elbowing me lightly. he takes my hand, pulling us out of the store as he hands me the clothes.

"chris let me cash app you please i feel guilty." i say, looking up at him. "honestly it doesn't matter to me." he says back, squeezing my hand assuringly. "chris-" i say, but instantly getting cut off by him, "no, 'means nothing to me yeah?" he says.

"okay mr rich." i scoff back, he shakes his head with a smile, then sweeps me up off my feet and carries me to the car, i protest the whole time.

8:31pm

"here you are!" i smile, handing chris his phone before plopping down on the couch next to him. he gives me a warm smile as he stretches out on the couch, inviting me to lay ontop of him.

"what are we watching?" i ask, shifting slightly on his body, trying to get comfortable.

a small groan escapes his mouth, which he 'subtly' disguises with a cough, "chris?" i question again, my eyebrows scrunching. i roll over off of him, his forehead is decorated with small droplets of sweat, causing his baby hairs to stick to his face.

“you oka-“ i’m instantly cut off by his sudden movement where he sits up and grabs my waist.

“here’s what’s gonna happen yeah?” he starts, his eyes fixated on mine.

“you’re gonna strip and turn around for me, understand?”

i nod with a small hum.

standing up off the couch, i drop my shorts to my ankles, followed by my shirt and bra.

i turn around, following chris’s instructions.

“did i tell you to keep those on?” he says, staring at the thin piece of material covering my last bit of dignity.

“chris what’s going on-“

“no.” he interrupts me again.

i shimmy my panties down my thighs, soon they follow the rest of my clothes in a heaped pile on the floor.

“that’s right.” he says in a low voice. “on your knees.”

i fall down onto my knees, looking over my shoulder at chris.

he heaves himself up off the couch and walks over in front of me, his bulge inches away from my nose. i take a deep breath as he pulls down his sweatpants, leaving him in his boxers.

chris doesnt move.

i look up at him with doe eyes, "please.?" i ask softly.

"please what." chris instantly snaps back.

"you know.." i say, toying with the waistband of his boxers.

"i don't know actually." he teases.

"go on, what do you want to do?" chris says, his hand resting on the back of my hair and playing with it soothingly.

i sigh, my cheeks flush as i spit out the sentence "let me suck it"

he nods, thats enough of a signal i need before im practically tearing his boxers off him.

his length springs out, tapping his stomach lightly.

i instantly wrap 2 of my hands around his base, squeezing lightly, i feel 1 of chris’s hands grip the back of my head, his long fingers intertwined in my brunette locks.

i feel him guide me by my hair closer to his tip, willingly i start to kitten lick, earning a desperate groan from chris.

i wrap my lips around him, he takes it as an invitation to start fucking my face.

he slowly tilts his hips foward, encouraging inches of his length deeper into my mouth.

i feel his tip kiss the back of my throat, i squeeze my eyes shut as chris stops his movements, i hum around him

chris starts to thrust in and out of my mouth, his hands growing tighter in my hair as pleasured whimpers fall from his mouth.

i grip the back of the brown haired boys thighs with my hand, “fuck..” i hear him curse before abruptly pulling out of my mouth.

a soft cough exits my throat as i wipe my mouth, saliva somehow on my cheeks.

before i can process what’s going on chris has grabbed my hand firmly, he pulls me up off the floor and into his arms.

he carries us out of the living room into our bedroom, throwing me down onto the bed, his heavy pants fill the room as i lay still on my back, my thighs inching apart as the familiar heat rises through my core.

“you want it?” chris asks, his voice low and croaky.

“please..” i whisper, staring into his eyes.

without another word he’s fully inside of me, a loud squeal escapes my mouth as he grips my waist, slamming into me with passion.

chris isn’t small, quite the opposite actually, in the 6 months we’ve been dating we haven’t fucked that often, only a handful of times due to his schedule so it would be wrong for me to say i’m used to his size.

his hands grip the inside of my thighs, pushing them apart painfully wide.

“look at you hm? taking it all without being able to keep your mouth shut?” chris scoffs, his pace never daring to slow.

those two sentences around make me clench hard around him, “chris- fuck!” i scream, my hands gripping his back.

“don’t fucking come yet, i never said you could.” his voice is almost angry, i know he isn’t though but holy shit.

i can’t even stop it, the knot in my stomach snaps. chris’s eyes brows raise, his pupils staring into my squinted eyes. he continues to thrust into me desperately, i whine from the sensitivity

“no, you decided to come early so now your gonna have to be fucked while your sensitive.”

“chris..” i groan, my brain clouded with the post orgasm

my heart picks up as he places one hand on my throat, he’s never done this before.

he squeezes lightly, ever so slightly holding me down to the matress

after a few seconds he pulls out, almost instantly finishing on my stomach with a low moan.

chris instantly lets go of my waist and throat, he sits down on the bed next to me and pulls me into an embrace. he strokes my hair frantically.

“are you okay? y/n sweetheart.” he says his voice lightly panicked.

i let out a small laugh, i’m in a state of shock from how fast his mood switches but i can’t complain,

i have no reason to.

chris’s face lights up with an innocent smile as he paints my face in kisses.

he slowly stands up, carrying me to the bathroom. the brunette shuts the toilet lid, placing me down on-top of it as he rummages through the cabinets.

my legs shake from the intensity, which chris seems to pick up on.

“shit- i’m so sorry are you okay? was it too much?”

i shake my head “chris no, it was really fucking good..” i say, my voice breaking with a smile.

“are you okay though? did i hurt you at all?” chris says while pulling a small towel out of the drawer, wetting it with warm water.

“chris im okay i liked it.”

“but if you didn’t like it just tell me okay? i would never be upset.” he says, walking over to me and bending down between my legs.

i spread my legs on the cold seat, “can i clean you up gorgeous?” he asks, holding the warm damp flame in one hand.

“yeah- yes..” i say, wiping my face.

chris dabs lightly at my thighs and around my hole, “this okay?” he speaks like he’s talking to a child.

“oh shit what-“ chris says, his eyes drawn on my stomach which is painted in white streaks.

“that was me? jesus i was in a trance or some shit” chris says, shaking his head as he wipes it off.

“okay i’m gonna get us some clothes okay?” he says, standing up with a grunt. chris walks out of the bathroom and comes back several minutes later fully dressed and holding a pile of neatly folded fresh love.

“you need help getting up?” he smiles, a sorry expression on his face. i stick my hand up which he grabs, gently lifting me up onto my feet.

“okay just try out your arms up for me” chris says with a concentrated look on his face.

he slides the sweater over my body, followed by the matching sweatpants.

he lets out a small sigh “feeling good?” he asks, picking me up again.

“thank you chris.” i say burying my face in the crook of his neck, his long hair brushing against my face.

“comfy?” he says, placing me down on the sheets that are now crumpled from my deadly grip on them 15 minutes ago.

he lays down next to me, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me close to him.

“i’m sorry about the choking thing-“ he starts, but i cut him off.

“stop apologising chris, these past 30 minutes have been the hottest moments of your whole life, and i’d gladly do it again in an hour.”

---—-----------------≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫----------------------

@leah-loves-lilies @braindead4l @suyqa @chrisstopherfilmed

[ridingthatd]

❝𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎❞

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

manipulative!geto ✘ fem!reader

summary: geto is one of your innocent friends, what happens when you get stuck in a cabin with him alone since your boyfriend gojo can't make it?, will he stay so innocent?

warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, cabin sex, perv!geto, fingering, squirting, nastiness, geto gets what he wants, gojo is your boyfriend, manipulation, obsession.

today is the day. today is the day geto will get what he wants. today is the day geto will get what he dreamed of. today is the day geto gets to live his little nasty fantasy. today is the day geto will finally get to feel your soft, plump body against his- that's if, if only if everything goes according to his plan, and be demanded getos plans will always work.

"ah here you are suguru!" you slowly wave your hand at geto as he makes his way toward your cabin, the cabin where you and gojo have been living for the past few months, he would be lying if he said he isn't jealous of his dear childhood friend. keeping you all to himself. gojo and geto have always shared everything, even the stupid childish dream about living without curses- they both shared it, so what about you? why is saturo so selfish that he can't share you with him?.

part of geto doesn't blame his friend because if he had you. he would split the ocean in half before giving you to anyone.

geto smiles softly at you. waving back, he smiles even wider once he sees the way you're hopping from leg to leg- clearly just as excited as he is to meet you.

"careful y/n don't want you hurting yourself on my watch." he speaks out once he's in a close distance to get a good look at the gorgeous goddess in front of him, cheeks flushed from hopping around, grinning from ear to ear, hair slightly messy because of the cold breeze that's hitting both of you.

you playfully role your eyes "don't worry suguru I'm a grown woman, of course i wouldn't hurt myself in such a silly way like you do." getos cheeks flush remembering the embarrassing moments of him being clumsy around you.

"aw your ears are getting red no need to be embarrassed geto" you say while gently rubbing his ear between your finger tips- trying to rub his redness away. getos breath hitch this little act of yours, you have no idea- no idea what you do to your so called "sweet" suguru.

"im not embarrassed, it's just because it's cold outside" geto mumbles, you let out a little mhm while you move your hand away folding them close to your body, making your breast slightly peark up."if you so say, now get inside don't want you catching a cold on my watch" you say teasingly micking him- now it's his turn to roll his eyes at you.

both of you make it inside the warm cabin, it wasn't to small or to big, it was just enough the perfect size for two new happy couple. it was the perfect size to cuddle and fuck in, if geto was the one with you here- he would have fucked you in every inch of this cabin, print his cock in you everywhere, claim you in every inch so everytime he isn't here, you would remember the way he fucked you in every corner- but today there isn't ifs because he's gonna make it happen, after all he's geto.

you happily sip the last bit of the soup geto has made for both you.

"I didn't know you were a chef suguru- I guess every day the huge brain of yours learn something new". geto blushes a little before snorting at your little comment about his brain "it's nothing special, it's just a soup recipe I learned from my grandpa, that he used to make when I was sick" he says while staring at the way you happily rub at your cute little tummy, that he has noticed grew a little since the last time he saw you- it's not that he minds oh no it makes him more eager to touch you- to squeeze your little stomach while he eats you out, holding you in place by your tummy.

"still it made both of me and my baby happy" you say cheekly not realizing what you just said till geto drops his spoon.

"y... your baby?" geto repeats making sure he heard you right, making you realize what you just said- your eyes widen and you stand up quickly making the chair you were sat on fall with a thud.

"NO- oh god no im not pregnant or anything!" you hurriedly say as if geto thinking your pregnant is your hugest fear, he stare at you confused.

"then why did you-" he was cut off by you "it's just me and gojo been acting as if im pregnant and saying cheesy stuff-" you say as if that makes any sense "I don't know why but it's been gojos new thing to act as if im pregnant so it just rubbed off on me I guess" you mumble hoping the big guy would understand what you mean- you finally got the courage to look up at him, and it catches you off surprise what you see- you have never seen geto with such a dark expression on his face, he was clenching his hand into a fist under the table. you were not sure what to say.

so that's what gojo been up to huh. breeding his lovely y/n. trapping you so he won't be able to have you. the thought of that made geto fume in rage, how many times have gojo fucked you and breed you full with his cum? how many times have gojo planted his seed inside of you pretending to impregnate you? geto won't let this happen, and tonight he will make sure of it. by marking his seed inside of you before gojo gets to steal that from him.

"it's.. it's fine it just got me off guard that you guys would have kept something as big as you being pregnant from me" geto stares at you with sad eyes- he has to keep the innocent act till he gets what he wants, he wasn't entirely lying. it would make him really upset if you guys kept such thing hidden from him.

"no no no no suguru- you know you would be the first person we would tell if that ever happens right?" you say panickly "yea I know".

soon after the sun has disappeared and a gloomy dark weather has appeared- you had always since childhood hated rain and thunder, of course geto knew that- this is why he's here today. this is why he made a specific plan to be here at this time, at this weather, and mostly at a time where gojo wouldn't be around.

you stare at the window as your hear the soft drops of rain starting to fall- you frown "saturo won't make it today with such weather" you worriedly say and of course geto knew that I mean after all it was part of his plan-"yea looks like it".

loud thunder and heavy rain sounds fill the room. under the darkness of this room it lights up each time. after every thunder to, show a glimpse of you and geto laying together with only 1 blanket. 1 pillow. 1 bed.

"im sorry geto-its just... you know i can't handle the thunder" you softly whipser, shuffling next to him. of course again geto knew that, he knew that you would get scared to be alone in your room, he knew that you'd come to him seeking for comfort, and he knew he would give you that with no hesitation.

"it's alright. it's just like back when we were kids right?" geto mumbles shifting to turn around and look at your curled up back shivering from discomfort of the loud thunder. he slowly stretch his arms towards you. fingers itching to feel the warmth of you, once he reachs you- you stiff unsure how to feel about that "geto-" you were cut off by him shushing you gently while hooking his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest.

"shhhh it's okay. im here everything is going to be okay" he softly rock you against his chest-pressing your whole body warmth against his and god it felt so good to have you this close. finally he thought while pressing his nose against your hair- taking a deep breath of the cherry smell of your hair. finally he thought again. finally he can have you while slowly trailing his nose against your ear going lower and lower. finally he thought once more. finally he can get to mark his sweet little y/n.

"geto-" you breath out once more, feeling your childhood friend press his front against you- gently sucking your earlobe in his mouth, coating it with his warm spit.

"what are you doing-" you gently tug, trying to escape his grasp- not realizing you accidentally rubbed your ass on his already ragging hard on. geto hiss, realising your now spit-covered earlobe from his mouth "careful- don't want me cumming in my pants just yet". you gasp you have never thought such a dirty words would come out of your dark haired innocent friend.

a loud thunder seems to snap you out to reality, you flinch at how loud it was- you couldn't even fully react because geto was already shushing you and gently rubbing your belly. "shhh it's okay baby I know, I know just let me take care of this okay hm? let me make you forget about this- you don't have to do anything just lay close to me while I make you feel so so so good, that you won't have to worry about the silly little thunder hm?"

you were confused, scared, shakey about what's happening this is why you hated rainy days because they always make you go blank- weak can't do anything, you didn't even realize that you were crying until you felt geto licking away a tear that dropped from your eye. his tongue felt warm and wet against your cold cheek.

"aw my little baby- don't cry I will take care of you, don't worry" he gently whispered still soothing your belly the only difference is that his hands are now under your shirt- making skin to skin contact with it. his hand felt so warm and comforting that you simply just sniffle and node to scared and confused to do anything else.

"such a good girl for me" geto mumbles against your neck while slowly lowering his hand from your belly- to your underwear trailing soft circles on top of your underwear.

he can feel your sweet little pussy throbbing under his hand- such a sweet pussy even through confusion your pussy is still so eager for him. he flickes your underwear up and slide his hand under- his groan is muffled by your neck, as he suck on it leaving a redish purple mark covered with his drool behind. he can feel how sticky and warm you were plusing under his touch- clenching around nothing so ready for one of his long fingers to slide right into your warmth.

he starts sucking on your delicate neck drung off the smell of you, as he rubes gentle circles on your clit- you let a whimper, you let out the sweetest whimper he ever heard. it made him go crazy because it finally hits him. he's making you his. he's making you feel good. he's touching your pussy. so warm so sticky so wet, he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips against your ass basically humping your ass while fingering you.

he goes faster. more aggressive- you couldn't help the loud whine that left you. clear warm liquid gushing out of you, coating his finger, he starts to hump you faster he can practically feel his percum soaking through his boxer.

he suddenly flips you into your back- him on top of you, earning a gasp out of you- you finally caught a look at him. he didn't look like the sweet geto you knew, he looked like an animal waiting to rut, his hair is messy, cheeks flushed, drool leaving his mouth and coating his puffy red lips. you couldn't help your gaze going down- he was huge who knew geto could hold such a weapon between his legs.

Impatiencly he slides your shorts and underwear off- he couldn't wait more to take a look at the sweet puffy pussy of yours. once it was free he left out a long groan- head dropping to take a closer look while hooking your legs around his shoulder.

"fuck y/n- look what the sight of your wet pussy do to me" he shakily says palming his dick out of his boxers. he was indeed huge, the long distance between the darkish hair around his base and the top but what caught your attention is the hot pink head and the white percum leaking out of it. it was a breathtaking sight you couldn't deny.

geto is shaking- he doesn't know why. is he shaking from excitement. is he shaking from how nasty he is. is he shaking because he knows it's fucked up or is he shaking because he can't wait to eat the wet creamy pussy in front of him- he doesn't waste any more time and dig right into his meal.

the thunder is long gone. it stopped and the only sound left in this room was the wet, sucking and licking sounds your pussy is geto slowly raise his head, you thought he was finished but the way he holds your eyes tells you something different- he maintain eye contact while slowly spitting, letting the drool leave his mouth and land directly on your clit. this time it was you who couldn't hold out your moan. once he started to suck on your clit again it's over for you.

you squirt all over his face, clear liquid gushing out of your pretty pussy- geto couldn't believe it, but that didn't stop him from opening his mouth and letting all the squirt go directly into his mouth. it's like he's drinking out of a holy fountain of a goddess, and this sent him over the edge- white hot cum spurts out of his angry dick and lend on your thighs.

your body was shaking, you could barely keep your eyes open after this. the only thing you heard before falling into deep sleep was "rest y/n because we're not done yet".

[c0llisiion]

Pairing : jeon jungkook + f!reader

Genre : smut

★ : request <3 , drabble , public sex , unprotected sex , slight praise kink and degradation ig? — lmk if i missed any!

W/C : 713

A/N : IM BACK 🤣 tysm to anon for rq this!! sorry for being inactive again i js have been going through another block 💀💀💀 i also started working on a jk au sooooo ANYWAYSSSSS NJOYY!!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Picnic dates have got to be the cutest date idea ever. Especially when the picnic is in an area where there are not many people—just you and your boyfriend—the nature, the food, the aura—everything that brings you solitude.

And that's why he had you push against a tree trunk. Your hands gripped onto the dry, flaky surface as Jungkook frantically pushed your little sundress up. “Jungkook- not right now- people could—" "You look so gorgeous in that little dress doll, I cannot resist.” He cut you off, fingers rubbing slow circles over your clothed cunt. Jungkook was a freak, and thank all the gods that he matched your freak too. He didn't care if people could catch you guys while you were doing the deed. It was thrilling for him. The possibility got him very excited, and you didn’t mind it either.

“Jungkoo-“ you were cut off again as his large hand wrapped around your mouth. You felt him push your panties to the side; the girth of his dick landed on your exposed ass with a soft thud. “Dont want anyone hearing you, right?” You whined against his mouth as his angry red tip prodded into your sopping hole. He fucked his tip into you so you could slowly adjust to his size. “Gonna have you dripping my cum. Fill you up so good, yeah? You like that, don't you? Show everyone who you belong to?” He said while pressing you closer to the trunk. Chest flush against the surface. His long cock started pushing itself into your tight pussy. Stretching you out perfectly. His other hand gripped your ass cheek, giving it a tight slap before fully pushing himself in. Your eyes roll back, and tears start swelling up.

He wasted no time in fucking you senseless. His pace was quick and hard. Skin slapping against each other, and your muffled moans echoed throughout the area. His right hand tugged the top of your sundress down, squeezing and pulling on your sensitive tits. Your hips bucked into his at the new feeling. You clenched around his length as he plunged into your pussy. “Shit doll, taking me in so well… You only know how to bounce on my cock, dont you?” He teased. Jungkook’s mouth was agape; soft, breathy moans escaped his wet lips. Gummy walls clenched around the girthy length, your cream collecting at the base of his cock.

You moaned into his mouth like a bitch in heat. Eyes swelled up, and mascara seeped down your face. “Such a needy thing, aren't you? So needy for me, huh?” His hand left your tits to play with your swollen clit. Your hot tears ran down your face and stained his hand. The overstimulation gets to you as he starts flicking and rubbing the sensitive nub. His dick pushing into you harsher and harsher.

Your legs started trembling as you were almost close. “Coming baby? Does my baby want to squirt all over my dick?” Jungkook leaned down and whispered lowly. You turned your head around and nodded incoherently, eyes filled with tears. Jungkook smirked at your reaction, “Anything for my good girl.” His pace reached an inhuman rate. Your eyes shot wide open as he drew rough circles over your nub. “Yeah? You like how that feels?” You nod through tears and cries. You cried out loudly into his hand as you came all over his cock.

Clear liquid gushed out of your sopping hole and ran down your thighs. Jungkook was chasing his own orgasm. His thrusts got sloppier and faster as he almost reached his high. Hearing the wet sounds of your fucked out pussy sucking him in was enough for him to shoot his load deep inside you with a loud groan. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him fill you up, excess cum seeping from the sides as he slowly pulled out his softening cock.

Jungkook detaches his hand from your mouth; a thick layer of your saliva coated his palm from your constant drooling, and he let out a soft chuckle as he saw the state of his palm. He pulled your panties back into place before patting them and leaning down to whisper in your ears, “Show everyone who you belong to, kay?” 

A/N : THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGGG! The idea for the rq popped up after i suddenly retrospected this one twt 🌽 vid i once saw 💀 ALSO DID YALL CATCH THE TINASHE REF 🤭🤭 life has been really hectic and I have so many fic ideas and inboxs 2 complete 😭 i might be slow in posting so be patient w me! Ilysm!! Tc <3

Masterlist!

[grugruel]

Little Bit

Pairings: roommate!bucky x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: Moving in with your bestfriend always seems like a great idea, until something inevitably breaks you apart. . .

He grabs my jaw, 'I fucking hate you.' He breathes, and I smile against his lips.

'No you don't.' I whisper, 'You love me.'

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, forced proximity, angsty rom-com vibes, praise (reader calls bucky good boy once), I love you's, choking, creampie, rough sex, pinv sex, semi-public masturbation, swearing.

A soft blue light shone through the windows, the neon sign across from us coloring every reachable piece of the flat a hue of blue.

Sitting on our shared couch, moved in just a week ago. I lay my head in my hands, I too was colored blue.

'How do we fix this?' He asks, sitting in the armchair across from me.

'Us?' I move my hands from my face to look at him with a faint smile, that doesnt quite reach my eyes. The light hitting him somehow fusing into purple, I turned my attention outside, searching for any type of red light.

'How, do we get rid of the flat. . .' He corrects me, forcefully shoving his finger into the coffee table, punctuating the words.

A tinge of sadness sinks it's teeth in me, moving to gnaw on the edges of my mind. Just a few hours ago, he'd still been my best friend. Since childhood, in fact. And now?

'We can't, you know that. We already signed the contract.' I sigh, 'Besides, neither of us have anywhere else to go. Or do I have to remind you?' Crossing my legs, I lean against the back of the couch, Meticulously searching for that red. Perhaps it was just the anger swelling inside him, pushing outward, seeping into his skin and tinting it red. Mixing with the cool of the blue, however, unsuccesfull in calming him.

He clenches his jaw, 'You, don't have anywhere to go.' He points an accusing finger at me, 'I- On the other hand–'

'–Have nowhere to go.' I finish his sentence for him, exhaling it in a whisper, 'We only have eachother now, ironically enough.' I flash my eyebrows upward, the words tasting bittersweet on my tongue.

Reality seems to set in as he too, leans backward and looks out through the window. Now seeming more lost than angry. Nonetheless, he blames me, for. . . what happened. I reach out for him, gracing his knee with the tips of my fingers–

But he pulls back, yanking his knee out of reach for my touch and faces away from me completley. Turning his head over his shoulder, I feel him retracting within himself, tugging all previous feelings and memories with him. He closes his eyes and exhales a shaky breath, 'Dont, I don't know you.' His voice was cold, 'You're nothing more than a roommate, a stranger im forced to share a home with.' Completley devoid of emotion.

My eyes stung with tears, and I hurry past him. Rushing upstairs to the loft, shutting myself in my bedroom.

That was a few weeks ago, the anger and sadness had settled. But in its wake, annoyance and spite had developed.

It felt very much like living with a sibling you hated dearly, a nemesis, your rival. Yet still loved, because of your ties.

'Just get out already!' I groan, stomping my foot into the floor from pure frustration. I felt like a child throwing a tantrum, but he just brought it out of me.

'I'm. Using. It.' He shouted, voice slightly muffled.

'For fu-' I stopped myself, but closed my eyes instead. Reminding myself to be the better person, 'I. Need. It.' I threw his punctuation back at him, 'I have to shower, youre making me late!' I shouted back through the door.

We both had a date, at the same time. Bucky was occupying the shower, it felt like he delayed just to make me late.

Eventually, the door opened and steam poured out of the opening. A cloud of buckys scents wafted in her face, and from it he emerged, with only a towel around his hips. With his bare upperbody on full display.

It's not like I hadn't seen him without a shirt before, but that had been as friends. Buy now that we weren't friends anymore. . . Well, I couldn't help but feel a little something.

He smiled smugly, 'Your turn.'

Oh how I wanted to scream at him, how could someone be so self-satisfied? I frantically gesture with my hands for him to move past me, and the second he did, I threw myself inside.

Finally, the water flooded down my body, every drop doing its duty in soothing an unwelcome ache. Stress and worry washing off of me, sliding into the drain, everything was perfect in this short, shielded time.

It would be over in a moment, when I rejoined the chaos that was my life.

But for now, my hand slipped downward. Quickly finding the source of my ache, and releaved it, rubbing it away in massaging circles. Doing my best to stifle my moans– When involuntarily, an image of Bucky popped up in my mind.

His towel around his hips, the low "V" on full display, his muscles rippling, torso stretching, showcasing his body and toned abs in all their glory. But what if those big hands had grabbed my waist, and pulled me close. What if he sank inside me, how heavenly it must feel. I bit my lip, my fingers moving faster. Realising too late that I was only spurring myself on, I came quickly, doing my best to stifle my moans. Toppling over, I leaned against the shower wall as I caught my breath. Praying I had been quiet enough.

When done, I hurried and dried myself off, then stepped out the shower a wrapped a towel around my torso. I took a quick look in the mirror, making sure that my actions were in no way visible on my face, then opened the door and re-entered the apartment.

The sun was just beginning to set, it was late in the day and the neon light had yet to come on. Golden light filled the apartment as–

Bucky fell onto the couch. . .

Almost looking like he'd jumped over the back of it.

I looked at him strangely, myself acting like I hadn't just touched myself to thoughts of him. 'You ok?' I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

He nodded, and grabbed a pillow, pressing it against his abdomen with an unreadable expression on his face, 'Mhm.' He hummed, 'Just fine, why would't I be?'

A violent urge to strangle him grabbed ahold of me, anger nipping at my skin, I was starting to tire of his passive-agressiveness. I inhaled through my nose, and exhaled through my mouth. Calming myself before I answered, 'You're right, how silly of me to ask. I don't even care.' and headed to my room.

What I did not see, was his eyes following me, lingering on my rosy cheeks and wet hair. Roaming over the bare parts of my skin, noting the way it was riddled with glistening water droplets. Nir had I seen, how he'd walked past the bathroom door earlier and somehow heard my moaning, or that he'd stayed and listened, intently. Sowly becoming more and more aroused. I did however, see a glimpse of him "smoothly" covering his tracks when I opened the door, the old run and jump maneuver. By some miracle, I didn't put the pieces together. Because I had not seen his erection either.

I put on my long, sleek, red satin dress.

It fell perfectly over my body, clinging to every curve. Paired with a pair of nude heels, my legs looked magnificent thorugh the slit too. I walked downstairs, expecting Bucky to make some snide remark, but he was nowhere to be found.

I figured I'd at least let him know im leaving. Presuming he was in his room, I approached it, and could indeed hear him inside.

But I wasnt to sure what to make of the sounds. My subconscious instics must've kicked in, because I reflexively took my heels off and snuck closer. Muffled grunts and slapping came from the other side of the door, they were, lewd almost, kind of like–

My jaw dropped. My name, I heard- I heard my name. He just moaned my name. Surely, this wasnt real, I scoffed internally. He was pranking me, right? Maybe it was an actress, or crush who shared my name? He was gonna open that door any second, jump out and tell me how stupid I was to think such a thing. Yet, something tightened inside me, a dull pulse flaring up.

There was a final groan, then the sound of a zipper. I blinked, frozen. Until I heard footsteps, and forced myself to snap out of it.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit! I quickly tiptoed over to the window, pretending to look outside. Realising I still had my heels in my hand, I had to alternate between putting them on and acting nonchalant.

The creaking sound of his door opening rang out behind me, and I yelped, my head whipping over my shoulder to look at him, taken completely off guard.

His eyes went wide as he met mine. His expression made it very clear that he'd expected me to be gone by now. 'Oh–' he clenched his jaw to keep it from falling. Rubbing the nape of his neck, he looked around nervously, 'Thought you'd gone.' He said, irritation lacing his tone, 'Since you were so stressed about being late and all.' He remarked, narrowing his eyes.

God, the gall on this man.

I put my other heel on, and turn around completley, 'Stress that you caused, you mean?' I pointed out, the final rays of sun warming my back as I looked at him, 'Dont worry, I'll leave you to it.' A giggle bubbled up in my throat. I had to suck on my bottom lip to stiffle it and hide my smile.

I turned on my heel and fled, not sticking around to see his reaction.

I couldn't keep him off my mind, surely it was not me he meant, I heard wrong. He hates me, for gods sake!

At that thought, my date picked me up, and the night was pretty uneventful from there. We had dinner and drinks, but something else was occupying my mind. I was just replaying the way my name sounded falling from Buckys lips, the way he breathed it, moaned it. My core ached at the memory.

My date no doubt thought me distant, but it couldnt be helped. I was desperate for the feeling of a man inside me, for bucky more specifically. So I laid my hand on top of my date's, 'How about we take this to my place?' I asked, smiling seductively.

Eagerly, he agrees.

Arriving back, we stumbled into the apartment. Kissing enthusiastically, as the colorful light had returned. Bathing us in a dark red light. Faintly, it illuminated our path upstairs as I grabbed his hand and pulled him to my room. We'd been too busy to notice Bucky, already standing in the kitchen.

Who hadn't had a very succesful date either, the only difference being that he did not bring her back to their place. He respected their home, but apparently she did not. A feeling of anger bubbled up inside him, but it felt different. Not like it had that first night of their fight, now, he almost felt threatened. He scoffed, surely not, noo–

The red switched to green, and his brain thought it before he himself came to the conclusion, was it. . . Jealousy? He furrowed his brows, disputing with his his mind. Never, he hates her gut. Hes been teasing and annoying her, because he hates her. Simple as that. Earlier, today was just a moment of weakness, a man doing his manly obligations. That was all, he told himself and looked outside, the green light poking fun at him. Calling him out in ways he did not appreciate, it was nauseating.

He had to talk to her, go up there and put a stop to it. This was his apartment too, he had a veto.

He marched firmly up the stairs, the green contrasting the red hot anger on his face as the sounds of laughing grew stronger. He reached for the door handle, when he heard their moaning.

Her moaning more specifially, the sound of skin against skin, of a creaking bed and the way it thumped against the wall. His mind blurred the sounds of the other guy, and instead focused on the sound of her, her labored breathing, her whimpering and mewling. Wishing he was that guy right now. He could've listened all day, but snapped out of it. Shaking his head as he realised the immorality of it. He couldnt just barge in on them, he'd tell the guy to fuck off the second they were done. He nodded, yeah. . . His hand fell to his side as he took a step back–

She moaned, so beautiful. Humming, 'Ooh, fuck, thats good bucky.' The words slipped from her lips befor she could stop them.

Buck froze, they all froze. Blinking, he did a dubbel take. Huh?. . . Huuuh?

'I'm, uhm–' She tried.

'What did you just call me?' The guy questioned, 'Is- is that your roommates name?' Dumnfounded, he pulled himself off of her.

Bucky couldnt believe what he was hearing, he snickered 'Holy f— shit.' Unable to controll himself, he burst into pure laughter as he ran down the stairs. Covering his mouth in the motion, spite pouring out of his ears. 'What a marvelous, marvelous day.' He declared openly, throwing himself on the couch, arms splayed over the back. Waiting for the next scene to unfold.

The man, clothes in hand came rushing down the stairs, and noticed Bucky watching him, 'You him?' He asked.

Nodding, 'Uh, huh.' Bucky hummed, confirming the mans suspicious as a cocky smile spread across his face.

'Fantastic.' The stranger hissed, and muttered under his breath. '. . .Some competition. . .' Then fled the apartment, throwing his clothes on in a hurry.

Bucky laughed, 'So good,' and sighed with content, shaking his head in disbelief.

A second later, I came bounding down the stairs, a sheet pulled around my body. 'Did he leave already?' I asked, sprinting to the door.

Grinning, he answered, 'That he did.' Slanting his head in observation as he took her disheveled appearance in.

I run my hands through my hair in frustration, 'Shit!' My head then snapping to Bucky as he's just sitting there, snickering and looking at me smugly. 'What?' I ask, but he only shrugs, smiling stupidly. 'Wipe that smile of your face, you big idiot.' I shout, 'Where's your date, huh?'

Flinching, hes taken aback 'I didn't bring her home! Its called common curtesy!' He shouts back. Both incredibly sucessfull in riling the other up, immediately getting kn eachothers nerves.

'You jealous or something?' I throw my hands in the air, laughing incredulously.

'I don't need to be, I heard you, you know.' He smirked, 'Up there.' Nodding to my bedroom. And my blood runs cold, embarrassment prickling my face. But I clear my throat, trying to control my emotions, 'You were listening?' I quirk an eyebrow, the corner of my lip tugging.

'Wha– of course not! He protests.

'No? Well, I did.' And now it's my turn to grin, 'I heard you, too. Earlier today.'

His veins freeze, 'I don't know, what you mean. . .' Bucky begins–

'Yes you do.' I saunter toward him, getting right in his face. 'Just admit it.' I hiss, humouring myself.

Grabbing my jaw, he breathes 'I fucking hate you.' But I smile against his lips. The neon sign turning pink, painting us both in its lovely rose colour.

'No, you don't.' I whisper, 'You love me.' And drop my sheet, stark naked underneath.

In a hurry, he crawls back on top of me, lining himself up with my core. Teasing, he slides his member up and down my folds, 'Fuck' I moan, and he slides in. Immidietly setting a gruesome pace, hitting my cervix with every thrust.

He looks at me with awe in his eyes, eyebrows furrowing. He lools teribbly pained, 'I do, I do love you.' He whimpers, as if the sight of me and the the truth he'd refused to accept hurt him.

In a clash, his lips met mine. Feverishly our mouths clash together, tongues waisting no time in tasting the other. His hands glide down my sides, until they grab my ass and he lifts me into his arms. I gasp and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling on his hair, making him grunt. He walks us into his bedroom, and throws me onto the bed with a yelp, then crawls on top of me. Kissing his way up my body until our mouths found their way back to eachother. I unbutton his shirt and unbuckle his belt, hastily pulling them both off of him. He sits back, and zips down his pants, kicking them off. His size was more than enough.

He groans in my ear, snaking his hand up to my throat and as he leans on the other. Nuzzling my face softly, his hand toghtens around my throat, lightly choking me as his hips slam into mine hard into mine.

My hands roam his back, sinking my nails into his skin whenever a particularly rough thrust sends a spirit breaking ache through my body. His lips trace their way down my jaw, specking it with kisses, whispering 'I love you.' In muffled moans against my skin.

I grin, and run my hands through his hair 'Good boy.' I whisper–

He whimpers, 'Fuck.'

The snap of his hips falter as the both of us are reaching our orgasm. He kisses his way down my throat, meanwhile adjusting his hold around it. 'I love you.' He mutters between every kiss, when he finally falls over the edge. His seed spilling inside of me as he does his best to keep thrusting, helping me to reach my own climax. With the chole of his hand, member inside me and his muffled I love you's. The knot tightens in my stumache, and I topple over too. How could I not?

'I love you too.' I whisper, and I feel him smile against my throat as he squeezes it one last time. 'Good, it was too hard to stay mad at you.'

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SAY ‘AHH’ featuring wriothesley.

tags : orgasm delay/denial, public sex, cockwarming, dirty talk, edging, slight exhibitionism, possessive behaviour, public groping, slight praise kink // wc. 0.7k

author’s note : i really like this one, esp since im actually saving for wrio (HOYO LET HIM OUT OF THE DUNGEON PLEAAAAASE) i need him bad and my ovaries scream in joy whenever he appears on screen :3 also there's this one voiceline he says in the archon quest that actually has me arching? joe zieja the man you are :(( anyways notes n reblogs are always welcome here, please don't spam (esp w/o a follow), and that's all the admin stuff done, enjoy your read!

this work is NSFW minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

everyone wants to get close to WRIOTHESLEY. he’s the most feared fighter in the fortress of meropide, having won countless pankration matches and being voted most likely to head the fortress more times than even he himself could count. 

everyone’s fear and admiration of this man is partially why you think you can feel a million and one pairs of eyes on you as you sit on his lap in the coupon cafeteria, his throbbing cock nestled deep in the confines of your dripping cunt. “baby…”

“keep it down, angel,” he grumbles, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth before offering you a bite of your own meal. “people are gonna get suspicious.”

as if the scene wasn’t suspicious enough anyways! everyone knows of your relationship with wriothesley (it’s a hot topic in the women’s dorms, the fact that you share a room with him), so it isn’t completely irregular to see you sitting in his lap in the cafeteria. 

what is completely irregular and may raise suspicion is the fact that as you sit on his lap, wriothesley’s length is slowly but discreetly pumping into your stretched out cunt, it’s engorged tip nudging against your g-spot with every movement. it’s intoxicating, but he told you that you can’t make a single noise, and just sit pretty until he’s finished eating. 

he also told you that you can’t cum either, and that if you do, he’ll have no problem fucking you out in the open for everyone else to see how much of a slut his girl is. 

“hnnn, wrio…” muffled moans are directed into the crook of his neck and you bite down gently on his skin. it’s not helping that every time you make a noise a little too loud for his liking, he moves his hips upwards that little bit more, pressing his tip harder onto your g-spot. as a result, you can’t hold yourself back, leading to a cruel cycle of wriothesley’s brutal edging and your pitiful compliance. 

“almost done, baby, see?” he points to the nearly empty metal container before lifting a forkful of food to your mouth. “open up now, doll. say ahhh.”

“ahh–ah!” his hips thrust upwards and your eyes roll lewdly into the back of your head as your tongue lolls out onto your bottom lip. a couple of heads turn but you manage to cover it up by burying your head into his chest. 

wriothesley has to restrain himself from bursting out with laughter. you’re trying so hard to be good for him that it’s becoming a struggle, and watching you try to stop yourself from giving in and fucking yourself on him like he knows you want to is providing him with ample entertainment. you’re such a good girl, sitting pretty and letting him spoonfeed you your pleasure by edging you in broad daylight. 

“what’d i say about being quiet, doll?” his voice is a low whisper in your ear, one hand slipping under your skirt and squeezing your ass harshly. “ ‘s almost like you want to get caught.” he starts to speed up his slow grinding, hands sliding up to your waist as he starts to move you back and forth. 

“god, you want it bad, huh?” he feels your teeth brush his neck. “my girl can’t even wait ‘til we got back to the dorms, shit.” you try to gyrate your hips discreetly, your pussy aching to feel him against your sweet spot again. “let up a lil’ bit, sweetheart, you’re squeezin’ too tight.”

“can’t,” you whimper, nails digging into his biceps. “ ‘s too big.”

“remember what i told you? no cummin’ until i’m done.” he shoves another forkful of his food into his mouth. “and if you don’t mind yourself, i won’t let you cum at all.”

“no, nooo..” your voice fades into a pitiful whine as you stop moving, desperate to please your boyfriend. “wanna be good for you, wrio, wanna be your good girl…”

“i know, baby, i know, but you’re gonna have to wait.” he gestures to the rest of the cafeteria, and the open space surrounding it. “can’t let them see how pretty you look when you cum. that’s f’me only.”

he tugs your hair gently, pulling your heated face out of his neck before tapping your bottom lip with a forkful of food. “open up, honey. we’re almost done.”

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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[qwimchii]

this is not important at all but im so obsessed with cod that i told my mom the whole run down and lore of the series and the characters. so my mom and i do this thing where we'll basically do headcanons about them and my mom's particular headcanon about ghost is that when he has an s/o, he follows them around like a puppy. and i havent let that go since she said it. thank you mother.

now i just imagine scary dog privileges with simon. like, you're at the grocery store and a person just has to look at you wrong before he's giving them a downright bone chilling glare, satisfied when they scurry away. you're quick enough to notice the outlandish, terrified look on the stranger's face, their eyes darting between you and your boyfriend behind you before running away. turning around to give him a confused look, he just squeezes your waist.

don't worry 'bout it doll, he murmurs, a laugh somewhere deep in his throat as he moves past you to inspect a can of soup on the aisle shelf.

you always just quirk your brown at him, knowing he probably has a smug smirk under his surgical mask at how easily he can scare away any potential threats to you. though to you, they seemed more like victims.

you just sigh, moving over to rub your scary dog's broad back as you tip-toe to peer over his shoulder at the can of soup in his hand.

and then my mom also said that he also follows you around like a puppy because he feels like if you're out of sight, you might disappear :( you're so precious to him and so sweet that he feels like you're a dream :(

it's giving— he likes to take showers together and doesn't want to be separated for a second. not in a clingy way. just in a i always need you to be in my peripheral, kind of way. he admitted that in a late night shower with you once, his arms curled around your waist and his face nuzzled into your neck. where he belongs. body warm and flush to yours. it made showering ten times more difficult but you couldn't find it in you to complain.

also, when you're working at something in another room, getting real quiet and focused, it makes him nervous. nervous enough that he has to stand from where he was sitting on the living room couch to check that you're still in the same apartment/house. leans against the doorframe to watch you, so adorably focused in silence, not wanting to bother you or become overbearing. just stares at you to know that you're still there and commit the image of you to his memory. sometimes, you don't even notice him watching you. when you do, he gets a bit sheepish as you coax him over, letting him sit in your desk chair so you could sit on his lap as you worked.

you're like his recharge station. he'll hold you for a good ten minutes, eyes closed and listening to you work and your soft breaths in complete silence, before he's all good to go back to whatever he was doing again.

—nsfw below

but if you're needy enough, getting squirmy on his lap and unable to focus as he pinches at your pebbled nipples through your pajama shirt, he'll pull down the waistband of his sweatpants and tug on his cock, hardening real quick as you mewl softly for him. then, he'll push inside, your slick insides sucking in his cock inch by think inch. he'll hold your ass flush to his hips as he cockwarms you, shushing your low whines begging for him to move, telling you to be his good girl and just relax and keep working.

even though it feels impossible, you'll straighten up and follow his orders, whimpering when you feel the head of his cock grind deep inside you.

but when you really feel like being a brat, not listening to anything he's saying, he'll fold you over the desk and fuck you. sometimes slow, teasing rolls of his hips and other times brutal thrusts. his hips smack against your ass, simon practically drooling as he watched the flesh of your ass ripple with each thrust.

when that's over and done and your pliant and finally satiated as he leans you back into his lap, you're too sleepy and tired to keep working, so he'll carry you to bed and coax you into a nap, stroking at your hair and kissing your eyelids and cheeks.

as he watched you sleep, slow breaths on your lips, sometimes he'll pinch his own skin because are you even real? you're his sweet little fairy that he has to treasure and take care of :( your needs are so important to him :(

ps my mom has never seen a video of ghost before either. she's only seen pictures but she knows him so well??? shes psychic tbh or maybe i just talk about cod too much also these days weve been talking about soap at lot. she thinks that he'd be obsessed w cats like constantly needs one to pet in his lap and that is soooooooo like domestic and warm and now the imagine of him reading a book and petting a purring orange tabby i—

i did NOT mean to turn this into a whole ass post but m ovulating ok bye

@ivybeeloved and @babygirl-riley this isn't really a full cod ff but i tagged you guys anyways?? hope that's alright <3 💞

[golden1u5t]

he’s clueless. | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: @reidsdaisies

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: your boy is a genius but when it comes to sex, he's absolutely clueless.

you and spencer were on the bed having an intense make out, he was underneath you gently rutting his hips up into your clothed core while you sat on top of him. he let out a whine of protest when you pulled away from his kiss swollen lips but only to let out a soft whimper when your lips come in contact with the heated skin on his pulse point.

his hips were still occasionally rutting up but he thrust up particularly hard when he felt you start to nip at his skin. "'m sorry-i've never really done this before. well, maybe twice before this but it didn't turn out to good. i don't think she really-"

you cut off his rambling with a soft kiss on his lips before you sat up completely. "it's okay, spence. just- women don't usually like to hear about your times with other women while in the middle of trying to do it."

"im sorry, im just really nervous." his heart started to beat faster than it already was as he stared up at you, thinking that he'd just ruined the moment. spencer hadn't been with enough women to know the proper way of doing things. he didn't know what things to say and what things not to say but it seemed like with every women he's ever tried to peruse, he only ever said the wrong things and it caused them to lose interest.

"i was just teasing you, honey." you laugh softly and place your hand on his reddened cheek, swiping your thumb lovingly over his skin. "we don't have to do this if you're not ready, you know."

you had only been together for about four months and sex wasn't something that came up until now, you didn't want him to feel obligated or feel like he was being rushed into this. spencer didn't feel that way though, he wanted to have sex with you but he was just so inexperienced and the thought of you not enjoying yourself like he would caused him to become even more nervous about the whole thing.

"¡ am ready, i promise." he rushed out, his eyes meeting yours. you paused for a moment to give him time to back out if he wanted to, he never did. you nodded your head once you were sure he was being honest and pulled your hand away from his face, you grabbed the hem of your tank top and pulled it over your head.

spencer's gaze dropped to your chest as soon as your shirt was off and the small blush that was only on his cheeks spread across his whole face, if you didn't know any better you'd think it was his first time seeing a woman topless. he sat up as you moved off of his lap and pulled your shorts off. spencer watched you earnestly until you hooked your fingers into the waistband of your panties, he reached out to stop you from pulling them off.

"can i do it?" he asked, tearing his eyes away from your body and back to your eyes.

"you want to take them off for me?" you masked the surprise on your face when he nodded his head and pulled your hands away. you laid back against the pillows and gestured for him to come between your legs.

spencer slotted himself between your legs and tentatively placed his hands on your thighs, he looked up at you for confirmation before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and started to pull them down your legs. a barely audible gasp fell from his lips at the sight of your pussy, pretty and slick just for him.

it took him a moment to regain focus but once he did he started to undress himself, starting with his shirt and working down to his boxers. you noticed the slight tremble in his hands so you reached forward and helped him push them down his thighs, he did the rest in getting them off.

"god, spencer, you're huge." you mumbled, propping yourself up on your elbows and wrapping your hand around his cock.

"do you think- will it fit?" his hips jerked forward when you swiped your thumb over the leaking tip, his eyes wide as he watched you practically drool over it. spencer had never had someone look at him the way you were looking at him now, it was the first time he actually felt wanted and it was causing a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.

"we'll make it fit." you let go of his cock and lifted your gaze to his eyes. you laid back onto the bed and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him into your body. "ready?"

spencer eagerly nodded his head and pressed your lips together, reaching between your bodies and guiding his cock through your folds. the small moans you were letting out against his lips each time his tip bumped against your clit gave him the confidence to keep going, he finally lined himself up with your entrance and started to push forward.

you pulled away from his lips to give him a gentle reminder to go slow, to which you only got a broken gasp and a nod in response. he lowered himself down so your chest were flush together as he bottomed out. he tucked his head in the crook of your neck as your hand went into his hair.

there was a moment of silence before spencer pulled his hips back and carefully thrust back in, he was just testing the waters but the way you tugged at his hair and let out a soft moan let him know that he was in the clear to do it again.

it took some time to get settled into a good pace but once he did, you could swear that it was the best thing you'd ever felt. even with how inexperience he was he still managed to hit all the right spots without you having to direct him much. maybe he was good at it because he spent most his time reading and a few anatomy books had gotten thrown in the mix somewhere or because he learned from his mistakes the few other times he's done it. either way he was the best you'd had in a while.

even though you'd hardly gotten started, spencer could feel himself slipping off the edge. "i can't last, im so close." maybe he should've been embarrassed to admit he was going to cum so soon but he couldn't find it in him to care when you felt so good around him.

"it's okay, just- fuck- just keep going." you moaned out, reached down to hold his hips and try to keep the rhythm going as his thrusts started to falter. spencer grunted and whined against your clammy skin as he felt his cock start to twitch, his head getting hazier with each thrust he dealt to your throbbing cunt.

you spread your legs wider and held his hips into you as you felt his cum filling your walls, he held his breath as the knot in his stomach unraveled. a few seconds later he sucked in a sharp breath and started back thrusting into you on his own, despite the pinpricks of overstimulation.

he was determined to make you cum around his cock even if the line between pain and pleasure started to blur.

[luvyeni]

❛GOOD SHOT❜ ( bokseungah )

p. bestfriend!bokseungah x camgirl!reader w. 4.1k

warnings? threesome, oral ( m. receiving ), handjobs, unprotected sex, facial, nipple play, dirty talk, consensual filming

request: can you do a maknae line smut (skz) please🙏🏼??

authors note. i hope you like it, this is like 4000+ words of pure filth😭 — 𖦹 ( your best friends finding out you're a cam girl and you're not embarrassed ) !

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

“o-oh fuck.” You moaned out, the thick silicone dildo stuffed inside your cunt. “fuck it’s so big, im gonna cum.” Your moans exaggerated, but the people through the screen didn’t know that, they still paid you. “fuck im cumming!” you gasped— then a song played from your phone; someone was calling.

Who could be calling you at this moment? You made sure to always turn your phone off when you filmed videos— you must’ve forgotten this time, and it could definitely be heard on your camera.

You were a cam girl in your free time to make your living; hiding your face so you won’t be recognized, even going as far as to changing your sheets; you weren’t embarrassed but you’d rather not be in public and have a random person recognizes you as the girl who does porn

Quickly finding the phone turning it off, throwing it somewhere choosing to deal with later, coming down from your high— your fans wouldn’t care, as long as they got off they were worried about the background noise. “fuck that felt good.” you giggled. “came so much.” Pulling the toy out of you, thighs covered in your essence, as you teased your clit with the tip of the toy.

After ending the video, it was time to edit it, using the blur function to blur out your face, hitting the upload video to your account. “shit where’s my phone, i need to post it to twitter.” you search around, now in some shorts and a tank top. “ah here it is.” you picked up your phone, seeing who called you— it was jeongin, one of your best friends, you’d call in him after uploading to twitter.

“okay done.” You said hitting the upload button to twitter. “okay to see what jeongin wanted.” you searched for his number, hitting the call button. “pick up you fox.”

Jeongin searched for his phone which was ringing, trying to pause the tv with the other. “what the hell are you doing?” seungmin said; felix looking up from the tv upon hearing your name— jeongin picked up his phone. “its yn.” He said, finally hitting pause. “she must be calling me back.” Seungmin watched the boy answer the phone with a huge smile. “jesus just say you want to fuck her and call it a day.”

“don’t say that— no not you yn, seungmin being seungmin.” He said, felix laughing. “tell yn i said hi.” He said, his phone buzzing. “you too, how about you both fuck her instead of jerking off to twitter porn.” Seungmin said, felix flagging him off, ignoring him, seeing the notification for twitter. “he’s just upset i paused the tv when you called.”

“ah so he’s being a hater as user, tell him I said tighten up.” You laughed, hearing seungmin fussing in the background. “so why’d you call me?” you asked. “oh, um do you want to watch a movie tomorrow?” he asked. “we haven’t seen you in a long time.” he said. “sure, let’s do it.” you said. “you guys can come here, my tv is bigger.” seungmin spoke up again. “not everyone can afford shit, we aren’t even sure how you’re paying for shit, you don’t even have a job.”

Believe you or not you and seungmin were also best friends, you were best friends with all of them; you met them during your first year of college, you and jeongin were dorm mates, and he introduced you to felix and seungmin— you eventually moved into your own apartment once you made enough money from caming, the boys moving into the their own shared apartment for second year of university.

“you guys can argue tomorrow, we’ll bring the food okay?” you heard felix say. “i have extra beers, you guys don’t have to bring those.” jeongin hummed. “okay , see you tomorrow.” he chirped. “okay, bye innie!” you hung up.

“be careful innie i can see your boner.” seungmin teased the boy. “jesus you’ve had three years and you still haven’t fucked her, even felix has gotten somewhere with her.” felix rolled his eyes. “we were drunk and it was truth or dare.” He defended. “don’t bring me into this.” He said. “and it's still further than innie here has.”

Felix ignored them arguing back and forth, still scrolling through his twitter, coming across his recently new favorite account; a cam girl he’d came across — a new video had been posted, the video automatically playing, moans playing from his phone. “are you seriously watching porn right now?” they turned to the boy.

“no of course not, it played by itself.” He tried to turn it off. “well turn it off.” Jeongin said. “im trying the phone is frozen.” He knew should’ve bought a new one. “jesus your phone is stupid.” seungmin got up talking the phone, about to turn the phone off when a song played from the video— he knows that song, that was your favorite song, he knew that because it was also your ringtone; and those sheets, you had those sheets, and the heart shaped birthmark that on your lower hip that he saw when he accidentally walked in on you getting dressed one day when you still lived with jeongin; those same sheets in your bed.

That was the first day he ever thought about fucking you, much like his other friends.

“jesus are you seriously watching it to” jeongin said. “at least do it in your room.” he scrunched his nose in disgust. “shut up.” seungmin said, trying to see if the girl in the video would speak, is she spoke it would confirm his suspicions— and then you did and it confirmed just as he thought as soon as he saw that birthmark. “that’s yn.”

“what?” jeongin got up, looking over the boys shoulder. “you can’t even see her face, how can you tell?” he said. “I’ve watched a ton of her videos, I would’ve recognized if it was yn.” Felix said. “I doubt you’re thinking about her voice when she’s naked, bouncing on dildo.” He said flatly. “this is her voice, she owns those sheet and she has that birthmark.”

Felix turned the phone off, trying to come to terms with the fact he’d been jerking off to his best friend for the past few months. “how did you remember all this?” jeongin asked seungmin. “when you both lived together; i accidentally walked in on her getting dressed, I saw that birthmark, and she had those sheets.”

“and you remember?” felix said. “and you know her voice, seems like jeongin isn’t the only one who likes her.” He smirked, seungmin rolled his eyes. “says the one who only got a boner after finding out it was his best friend he’d been jerking off too, seems like you’ve thought about that kiss longer than you’ve should have.”

“so all of us want to fuck our best friend.” Jeongin sat back. “we’re terrible people.” He said. “not really, I mean she’s hot , anyone with eyes and a working penis would have these thoughts.” Felix said. “and fuck you can’t tell me this video wasn’t hot.” He said. “boys and girls can be friends, but i know what i want.”

“i doubt she’d want to do anything, i mean we’ve been friends for three years and she hasn’t made a move.” Jeongin said. “please she flirts all the time, you’re just stupid.” Seungmin said. “as many times she’s given you fuck me eyes and it’s completely flew over your head.” He scoffed. “its almost pathetic.” Jeongin face turned red, the thought of fucking you had always been there, but seeing that video just fueled that fire tenfold.

“how do we even tell her?” felix thought with his brain for a minute and not his cock. “that we know what she does, and that we—” his voice trailed off, seungmin finished it. “all want to fuck her? Just tell her, come on it’s yn she’d had if we held this in anyway, when we see her tomorrow there’s gonna be obvious tension, and she’s gonna be pissed if she feel left out.” He shrugged. “and by the look of those videos i doubt she doesn’t want to.” He smirked. “i can bet on it.”

The next day you got ready for the movie, sitting out the beers on the table along with a bowl of fresh popcorn— dressed in a comfy pair of shorts and a top; waiting for your friends to arrive.

“leaving your door unlocked knowing anyone could come kill you it crazy.” seungmin walked through the door. “please if the 86 year old woman across the hall manages to not break a hip while trying to murder me then she deserves it.” Standing up, grabbing the snacks from his hands. “why are you two just standing there come in and sit.” You told the boys who stood behind seungmin timidly. “I don’t know why they’re acting like they haven’t been here before.”

“literally we do this all the time, sit make yourselves comfortable, i’ll get some glasses.” you made your way into the kitchen, leaving the boys alone. “stop acting like a bunch of timid virgins and be normal for once in your lives.” Seungmin said, sitting back as you came back with a few cups. “everything alright?” felix nodded smiling. “y-yeah were fine.” You tilted your head. “innie?”

He turned to you, “you sure, seems like you can barely look me in the eyes.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “what’s up with you guys, did something happen?” you hated feeling out of the loop. “just tell me don’t have my anxiety up all night for something stupid.” you sat on the couch, sitting the cups down on the table, giving them a quick glance at your boobs, really not helping the situation.

“spill now.” you said, jeongin decided to say something. “yesterday we saw something.” He said. “and me and felix don’t think it’s true.” Seungmin scoffed speaking up. “are you a cam girl?” he said, if he was gonna be thrown under the bus, he better get something out of it. “seungmin.” Felix said, turning to you. “you don’t have to answer— yeah.” They were stunned, you answered so quickly. “really?” felix took out his phone, clicking twittet, and you’ve put two and two together. “ah so you’ve found it.”

“so that’s you.” Jeongin said, felix pulling up the video. You grabbed the phone, the recent clip you uploaded to twitter playing in front of it. “I post this one yesterday, this was new.” Seungmin smirked, the other two baffled that you were so nonchalant about it. “I told you it was her, that birthmark is too specific.” He said, you turned to him.

“you? how’d you figure it out before him.” You pointed to jeongin. “we’ve lived together, we seen each other naked plenty of times.” you questioned. “yeah well felix has been jerking off to you for the past 3 weeks and hadn’t figured it out, clearly im the only smart one.” Felix face turned red. “why would you tell her that, yn I swear I didn’t it was you until yesterday.” He said, but it didn’t bother you. “felix im not embarrassed about what i do, i make content for people to watch.”

“but im your friend.” You shrugged. “the only reason i didn’t show my face is because i didn’t want to, not because i was afraid to.” you said. “did you like it at least?” his eyes widened. “huh?” you smirked. “did you at least like it?” he shyly nodded. “you looked good.” He said. “I know, I did.”

“you’re really cocky.” Seungmin spoke up. “its annoying.” You rolled your eyes. “whats annoying is instead of using your words and just saying you wanna fuck me, you try and get under my skin.” you bit back. “its been three years minnie , im not dumb, at least jeongin tried to hide it.” jeongins face turned read. “it took me a little longer to figure him out, but you, you don’t even hide it, you just try and hide it by petty bickering with me like you’re a kid.”

“yeah?” seungmin stood up from the chair, his body towering over your sitting one, you looked up at him, a smirk that he desperately want to take off painting on your face. “is that what gets you off when you’re fucking yourself with those toys, the thought of your best friends wanting to fuck you.”

He words slightly threw you off, because he wasn’t wrong, there was a few times on and off camera were you came to the thought of one of closest friends fucking you— it was him time to smirk. “what I tell you guys, girls like her are easy to read.” he said, his hand coming up to your hair, you allowed it, it was actually turning you on especially with the audience. “always desperate to be fuck, no matter who it is.” He said. “you’d fuck your viewers if you could wouldn’t you?” you whimpered as his hand tightened in your hair. “lets make the sluts dreams come true, felix is a viewer no?” he turned to the boy, who was shifting in his seat watching the scene go down. “felix get over here.”

He released your hair, his hand coming to the strap of the tanktop. “take it off, it's let doing much anyway, we can see your tits through the shirt anyway.” He moved to the side, allowing you to take the shirt off and for felix to move in his place. “go a head, suck him off you know you want to.” It was clear who was in charge of the whole thing now, and it wasn’t you.

“yo-you don’t have to.” Felix said, as hard as he was, he didn’t want to force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. “but i want to, I really do.” you said. “you heard her, so get over here and stop being such a pussy.” Seungmin said; felix got up replacing his spot, standing in front of you, his bulge in your face. “don’t just stare at it, take it out and suck him off.”

You undid the strings to his sweat, putting your hand in his pants, fishing his cock out. “fuck.” He sighed, as you stroked his cock. “you’re so big.” You kissed his tip, giving it a few kitty licks. “please put it in your mouth.” He moaned, his hands flying to your hair as soon as you took him into your mouth. “fuck.”

Jeongin watched this all play out and he was definitely not okay, watching you suck his friends cock did more to him than he thought it should, his cock ready to be freed. “yn.” he reached for your hand, seungmin watched him put your hand on his boner, you squeezed him through his jeans. ““don’t forget your precious innie, we all know how much you want to fuck him.” He said.

Jeongin unbuckled his jeans, pulling them down along with his underwear. “shit, stroke it for me.” He sighed as you moved your hand up and down on his shaft. “fuck.” He groaned, the living room filled with felix and jeongins moans; along with the noises coming from you as felix fucked your face. “fuck your mouth feels so good.”

“how about we film this?” seungmin said. “since you like being on camera so much.” He took out his phone. “I bet your viewers would love seeing you all slutted out like this.” He hit record on his phone, recording you having your face fucked your best friend while you slowly jerked off your other best friend. “there we go our own little yn loves being fucked on camera.”

You felt felix speeding up, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. “fuck im gonna cum.” He whimpered, pushing your head down, making you take his cock all the way down to his pubic bone. “shit im cumming.” He grunted, his cock twitching— ropes of his cum shooting down your throat. “shit.” He pulled his cocked out your mouth, letting you finally breathe. “that felt so fucking good.”

“here hold this.” Seungmin handed the phone to felix. “i want this slutty cunt first.” He said. “lay on your side.” He commanded, you compiled; jeongins cock in your face. “why do you get to fuck her first?” Seungmin glared at felix.

“earlier you both were about to throw me under the bus and im the only one who hasn’t acted like a pussy this entire time.” He said. “now hold the camera right.”

He pulled your shorts off your legs, along with your panties. “look at that wet cunt.” He lifted your leg. “show the camera her slutty wet cunt.” You felt his fingers brush across your cunt, as felix moved closer with the camera.

“so fucking messy.” He finally freed himself from his pants, lining himself up with your hole. “gonna stretch this cunt better than those toys you fuck.” You felt him entering you. “fuck seungmin.” You moaned. “jesus this cunt is so tight.” He grunted, holding your leg up, straddling your other one as he fucked you. “those dildos must not be working.”

Felt jeongins hand on your boob, playing with your nipples; your head in his lap, right where his cock was. “suck him off.” Felix said, his eyes much darker than before, and now full of lust. “fuck, you heard him do it.” Seungmin said, you took him into your mouth, he squeezed your boob, groaning as you took him fully. “oh fuck.” Jeongin held your head down, seungmin fucking into you much fast, forcing you on his cock more, gagging around his length. “shit im gonna cum.”

Seungmin on the other hand felt his orgasm approaching, vigorously fucking your cunt. “fuck im gonna cum all over this cunt.” You moaned around jeongins length. “fuck, do that again and im gonna cum down your throat.”

Felix watched through the phone, his cock getting hard again. “shit this is so hot.” He groaned, watching you struggle to fit jeongin into your mouth due to the angle while seungmin fucked you. “fuck im cumming.” Seungmin groaned, pulling out as his cock twitched, as he came all over your cunt. “shit such a messy slut.” He slapped your cunt. “fuck felix you’ll have fun with her, real tight cunt.”

Jeongin bucked up into your mouth a few times , grabbing the back of your head. “fuck im cumming!” he finally released himself in your mouth. “shit.”

Felix replaced seungmin, handing the phone off to jeongin, rubbing figure eights on your clit. “wanna make you cum first.” He stuffed his fingers inside you. “fuck you really are tight.” He scissored you open. “fu-fuck lix, please make me cum.” You whined. “you heard her lix , make the slut cum.” He removed his fingers, replacing it with his cock. “lixie!” you squealed, he shut his eyes as your cunt squeezed him. “oh fuck your pussy feels good.”

“lixie im gonna cum.” You moaned out. “go a head, show the camera how you cum.” Hearing those words from the boy who was too shy to do anything a few minutes ago was all you need to make you cum. “oh fuck you’re squeezing my dick.” He grunted, fucking into you faster. “shit im gonna cum.” felix pulled out, stroking his cock, letting him cum spill all over your stomach. “fucking hell.”

The camera still rolling as you took a few breaths. “you want more?” seungmin said, taking the camera back, you nodded. “let’s give the whore what she wants then.” You sat up, jeongin grabbed your waist. “show the camera how you ride, do to me what you did to that stupid toy.” Jeongin said in your ear, his voice low. “come on, sit on my cock.” He held your waist, letting you slowly engulf his cock. “oh fuck.” He groaned, as you fully sat down on him. “move for me.”

You began to move up and down on his cock moaning out his name as his hand came up to your boob, squeezing. “look at the pretty slut.” Seungmin grab your face, the camera on you. “want you to suck me off.” He said, handing the camera back to felix. “come on open that mouth, you can take one more cock.” He said tapping his tip of your tongue. “suck.”

Felix got up, his cock still rock hard, bobbing against his stomach as he held the camera in his hands. “can you help me out?” you hummed , your mouth full of seungmin, taking him into your hand , letting his fuck you hand. “fuck squeeze it just a little.” He moaned out, fuck your fist. “fuck im gonna cum all over your tits.” He groaned.

“look at the slut, so cock drunk.” Seungmin said, jeongin bouncing you on his cock. “letting us use you like this -fuck- gonna let me cum all over your face.” His hips snapped against your face, making you take his cock all the way down your throat.

You moaned out, clenching down on jeongin as you came for the second time ,he hissed. “oh fuck , im gonna cum.” He groaned, you clenched again. “fuck get up.” he lifted you off of him, just in time too, cause soon he was cumming, some of it getting on your stomach and thighs. “fuck.” He rubbed your clit. “fuck cum for us again.” He grunted in your ear.

Felix came second, cursing out as he came all over your tits. “sh-shit so pretty.” His hands came to your boobs, toying with your nipples while jeongin played with your clit. “cum one more time for the camera.” Felix coaxed you. “you can do it, pretty go ahead and cum.” You gasped out, letting the knot in your stomach snapping. “fuck.” You felt your juices spray out of you. “fuck she squirted.”

“good slut, gonna cum all over your faace as a reward.” Seungmin pulled out of your mouth a trail of spit following as he stroked his cock until he came covering your face with his seed. “look at you all covered in cum.” He scooped a little bit of cum off your lip, pushing it into your mouth. “suck.” He said.

Felix stopped the camera, finally letting you rest. “you okay, do you need anything?” he said. “A shower.” Your voice was gone. “jesus we did number on you.” Seungmin teased, you shot him the finger with a eye roll. “oh really, think you could go for another round right.” Your eyes widened. “stay away from me.” You said.

Felix helped you in the shower, jeongin knocking on the door. “I need some pants, you made a mess on me.” Your face heated up. “so-sorry, there’s some sweatpants in my drawer that are way too big for me in my drawer.” He smiled. “and don’t worry about it, i would’ve been upset had it been anyone else.”

“i got you some clothes out to wear.” Felix said, all of them now standing in your bedroom as you walked out. “thank you lix at least you care about my wellbeing.” Seungmin scoffed as you kissed felixs cheek. “well how about I call the food delivery back and tell them not to come.”

“and I picked your favorite movie and got it all ready so we can watch it in here so you don’t have to sit on your uncomfortable couch.” Jeongin said now in a pair of sweats. “hmm, well thank you.” You changed into your clothes, climbing into bed. “I found your draw of toys.” Seungmin opened the drawer. “jesus you are into some crazy shit.” He said, picking up the various toys. “se-seungmin put those down and come sit down.” Felix said with red ears. “fine.” He picked up the vibrator one last time, lifting his eyebrow to show you, you covered face. “seungmin.” Jeongin pulled him to his seat. “im done, im done, jesus she just took three cocks on camera yet she’s all shy now.”

“send me that video.” You said, felix feeding you some of the chicken seungmin ordered. “why?” jeongin said. “memories innie.” You said sarcastically. “why else?” you said. “she gonna post it.” Seungmin said. “but your face is in it, you sure?” felix said, you shrugged. “I don’t care, it’s hot and I don’t have to film next week.” you said. “you guys don’t mind it right? I mean I can blur you out.” You said.

“I don’t care.” Jeongin said, felix agreeing. “I wouldn’t have filmed it had I not wanted it to be posted.” Seungmin said. “good, I’ll edit and post it next week, now I don’t have to film.” You said. “I can’t believe seungmin was the one to find out first, I always knew you were staring too hard that day you walked into my room.” You smirked, he scoffed.

“you were naked , of course I was starring.”

©️LUVYENI