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#i greatly appreciate teeth
8bit-mau5 · 1 year
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I’m a tad late with this one, but I’m finally done with my 2nd Clown Bust adoptable! I’ll be releasing these every so often to get designs i got in my brain out my system, cos i had Such strong inspiration for this guy.
I’m in a financial emergency and really need him to sell, so if you can’t afford him, I’d greatly appreciate a boost!
VENETIAN CLOWN - @/kaiiijuu
DM me if interested!
[Rules under cut!]
You may gift them, but under no circumstances are you allowed to resell them.
NONE of my art or adopts are to be minted as N/F/Ts.
You may not edit the original art in any way, shape or form.
You may not reupload the non-watermarked file anywhere, as that’s for your own personal use and viewing.
You MAY, however, reupload the watermarked version for the sake of judgement memes, select and bio pages, asks, and ToyHouse, where you can credit me under the same URL as my tumblr 8bit-mau5.
If you do not want them anymore, you can donate them back to me or trade them off to someone else! Be sure to let me know of the new owner if you trade or gift them away.
Don’t claim design as your own, and must credit me when you first draw them.
You have a maximum of 24 hours to send payment once approved. If you don’t send it within that time frame, I open them back to the public.
Transparent unwatermarked files will be sent only after payment has been received.
Feel free to change the gender, clothes, etc however you want, so long as the design is still recognizable.
You may NOT change the skin tone, whitewash them, or change their facial features, as most if not all of my adopts are coded as POC (obviously the facial features rule doesn’t apply to chibis, as those guys have no drawn distinct facial features).
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dreaming-abyss · 1 year
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I think I may be otherkin
Hello, I think I may be otherkin due to the disconnect I’ve felt with being human and several behaviors I have. I learned how to mimic animal sounds, particularly dogs and cats. I feel like I should have horns, or wings, or fluffy ears and a tail, usually things like headbands and those tails that you can clip or tie on help. I have a horn headband I really like but it’s not stable enough to wear all the time and my school considers things like that excessive so I can’t normally wear them :(.  I’d like to know if these are common feelings and what kind of kins usually have horns or wings and tails. 
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shorthaltsjester · 8 months
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I’m t4t fjorester anon. Do Not Apologize, I loved your essay and honestly, I would read more of it and definitely agree. It just made me think about them being T4T as a conjunction to your reading/interpretation of it and I wanted to throw a lil coin in your fjorester fountain
this has been sitting in my inbox for a Hot Minute but i did appreciate this clarification ! also t4t fjorester fills me with so much joy and like the fjord mimicking vandran and his relationship with masculinity and jester’s relationship with her virtue name and femininity in general are all things that along with their in text meaning are Very well suited to also be read as consistent with transness or general gender Stuff™. i just think they’re neat
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cntloup · 1 month
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Ex-Husband!Simon takes you to the hospital after he saves you from your abusive partner
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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He grits his teeth together and clenches the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as the words leave your mouth, explaining what happened to you all this time.
You make it to the hospital in under 10 minutes although he still maintained a safe speed and remained focused for your safety. 
They admit you quickly and he stays by your side, holding your hand and cooing praises in your ear while they tend to your wounds and you squeeze his hand as you wince and whine out of pain. 
“It’s ok, love. They're nearly done. You're doing so well.” he whispers against your temple on your uninjured side and softly kisses your skin. 
They finish patching you up and tell you that you should stay for the night due to a mild concussion. 
He sits on a chair by your bed while resting his head on the edge of the bed and holding your hand all throughout the night. 
In the morning, he wakes up with a stiff neck, but the only thing that matters to him is that you’re safe. 
“Where are we going?” you ask, still slightly dizzy and confused as he helps you get inside the car. 
“You’re staying with me, dove.” he responds. 
The car ride to his place is quiet as your mind is still foggy. 
You softly take his hand in yours and place it on your thigh, needing to feel his touch in order to make sure he’s truly there and it’s not all just a dream. 
He feels his breath hitch in his throat, trying so hard to keep his focus on the road.
“You really saved me, Si. Thank you.” you mumble as if in disbelief that he really showed up, your knight in shining armor. 
You've been dreaming about him saving you for so long and now that it’s finally happened, it feels like a dream. 
“ ‘course, love. What? You thought that I would leave you with that monster?” he retorts, eyebrows furrowed. 
“It’s just that... we haven’t even been talking for such a long time. I started to feel like you were so far away. Out of my reach. You know?” you respond in a soft voice. 
It makes his heart crumble in his chest to hear you say that. He knows exactly how you felt all this time. 
“Well I’m here now, luv. And I’m not going anywhere. As in... if you’ll have me of course.” he remarks, slightly shaking his head at himself, nearly spilling out all he wanted to tell you all this time. 
But it’s not the right moment yet. You need time to heal first. 
“Ok, Mr. Riley.” you say, a loving smile dancing on your lips as your beautiful face shines in the morning sunlight. 
He nearly crashes the car as he turns to look at you.
The first smile you gave him since he saw you. 
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 
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sweet-as-an-angel · 4 months
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Virgin! Simon "Ghost" Riley
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Inexperienced! Simon, Virgin! Simon, Riding, Unprotected Sex, The Mask Stays On, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.
Virgin! Simon who can hardly believe his luck as he watches and feels you ride him, your walls tight as you bounce on his cock, calling him your 'big guy'. His hands are on your hips, his own slamming up into yours in a rhythm you'd set for him.
He's sloppy. Unaccustomed to the euphoric stiffening of the knot in his stomach, pulling ever tighter with every slap of your ass against his thighs. Sure, he's had many an orgasm before, but never at the hands of another. Never so strong; a force of nature in its own right. He's breathing heavily - panting; you swear you can see him drooling from the corner of his mouth. Something viscous is filling you now. Not the full force of his seed, but a precursor to it. A warning.
The mask stays on (of course) during this exchange, but you can see the way he fights to keep his eyes open, to keep himself from betraying every sensibility and throwing his head back, screwing his eyes shut as his length is nestled inside you, a thick bump forming in your stomach with every thrust. Your hand slips down your front and you press it. Simon jolts, moaning between gritted teeth as you press, hard, harder still, forcing his cock into an even tighter position.
He's arching into you, the sensation of his veins and his bulbous tip throbbing against your insides enough to let you know that he's close.
You coax him. Goad him. "Y'gonna cum just for me, big boy? Gonna fuck me 'til I can't walk straight?"
He can't talk. Can't even think. For the first time in his life, he's fucked dumb. You can see it in the way his eyes roll back into his skull when you clench around him. Suffocate him. His hips stutter. His cock nudges something deep within you. You gasp.
It only took your calling him your "Good boy," to have him unravel before your eyes. He can't contain the strangled growl that is exorcised from him as he cums, deep and hard, thick, hot ropes of semen filling you. You can feel it, as if painting your insides white, bathing you in an unfettered warmth. His hands are cast-iron on your hips, pulling you down onto him as if to stop you from pulling away, to prevent even a drop of his seed from escaping you. He digs his heels into the bench beneath you, grounding himself.
And, as your orgasm sparks and ripples through you, you hunch over Simon, hands gripping his shoulders, squeezing him. You moan, long and loud, milking Simon for all he's worth. And now, between the sheets of his post-orgasm haze, he watches you, the ring of light above your head from the luminescent bulb of the changing room painting you as a saint in his eyes.
He's never going to let what you have - what you've shown him - go. No matter the cost. Not when this feeling of completion is steadfast within him, electrifying every fibre in his body, all the way down to his bones.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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marimogf-archived · 5 months
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it's mr. steal your girl!
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synopsis: getting stood up by your boyfriend on your birthday? don't worry, your best friend, infinite flirt satoru gojo, will never let you down!
genre / au: porn with a little plot? best friend!satoru, best friends to lovers, little fluff at the end, very little angst
contains: EXPLICIT CONTENT (MINORS DNI), afab!reader, slight dom!satoru, reader wears makeup and a dress, cheating, use of petnames (good girl, sweetheart, baby etc.), daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, photo taking, shitty bf naoya; wc: ~4.1k
happy reading, i hope you enjoy! as always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!! 🩷
PLEASE READ MY DNI BEFORE INTERACTING!
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satoru gojo is a player. or so the rumours say. everyone who talks about him says so. dubbed “mr. steal your girl” with how fast he had people falling for him, taken or not. that he's overly flirty, he hooks up with people on a whim and is not a fan of commitment.
but oh dear, was he committed to getting into your pants.
ever since he was introduced to you, arms interlinked with your boyfriend, naoya, he fantasised about being what the zen’in brat was for you. he could never treat you right, unlike satoru.
over time, the two of you got closer and closer, much to naoya’s dismay. but who was he to stop the great satoru gojo from seeing you? exactly.
most of your conversations were about your boyfriend. satoru telling you how much he hated how the zen’in heir treated you, how he was trying to keep you to himself and how you deserved better. the smile on his face fading whilst he listened to you defending naoya, trying to be a good wife-to-be, not expecting anything back from him.
satoru’s everlasting smile turned upside down, trying to understand what it was about him that had you so wrapped around his finger.
even today, on your birthday, he wasn't there. and yet you never uttered a bad word about him. even on this important day, he didn't care.
naoya had been called to an emergency clan meeting, apparently forgetting to give you a head’s up. not even a “happy birthday” text, nothing. you had waited for an hour at the restaurant until you got the call from him, telling you that he was tired after the meeting and wishing you happy birthday in that disgustingly bored tone of his.
with your heart in pieces, you called satoru right after, not wanting to waste the reservation and have a nice dinner either way. he took it as an opportunity to scrutinise naoya again, rightfully so.
“please, he could be treating you so much better. he acts like you're just an incubator for his heir and it's honestly annoying. he doesn't respect you at all and never will. he doesn't keep you around to marry, you're just a fleshlight for him. does he make you cum?,” he stated, sipping on his way too sweet tea.
you gasp at his lewd question, slapping his arm lightly and looking around to see if anyone heard him. heat was rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“what are you saying, of course he does!” you hissed, lying through your teeth.
satoru smirked, catching you red-handed. “you're lying and not even good at it.”
with a huff, you crossed your arms and watched how his eyes dipped to your accentuated chest and back to your face.
“okay, maybe he doesn't and i have to fake it sometimes but it still feels good. why do you even care?”
the white-haired man leaned forward, head resting on his large hand. his ocean eyes peering into yours over his sunglasses, making you squirm in your seat.
“because i want my best friend to be happy and making you cum is a part of that. it can't be that hard to make you orgasm, even naoya could do it if he cared. but he doesn't. hell, he stood you up on your own birthday because of his stupid clan meeting!”
you squinted at him, trying to ignore the thrumming in your chest as you uttered the next words.
“what? like you could treat me better?”
oh, now you've done it.
he finished his drink before grabbing your wrist and pulling you away to his car. the drive back to his apartment was tense, his warm hand on your thigh as he concentrated on the road. you squirmed, not having expected him to actually take the bait.
yes, he was your best and closest friend but he never lied about finding you hot. he never lied about his distaste for naoya, always bragging how much better he would treat you if you just gave him a chance. but because he was satoru gojo, the infinite flirt, you never thought he'd actually mean it.
he parked the car, getting out to open the passenger door for you. placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the front door. the smell of his cologne was overtaking your senses, getting dizzy at the prospect of actually getting in his pants.
unlocking his apartment door, he took off his sunglasses before gently taking your hand and guided you to the bedroom. as you took a tentative seat on his bed, looking around the room to avoid eye contact, satoru took a few steps towards you.
“we don't have to do it, you know. wouldn't want you to get in trouble with the zen’ins. not that i couldn't protect you. i’ll kill them if needed,” he said, kneeling in front of you and placing a warm hand on your knee.
“i just can't stand to see you so upset on your birthday and i wanna show you what it's like to be treated well because your dickhead of a boyfriend can't.”
your heart broke because you knew on the inside he was right. naoya didn't care about you at all, it was all a facade for his parents so they would stop pestering him to get married. but he never had any intention of putting a ring on your finger or having a long term relationship. you never even met his family, he didn't even invite you to his home. it was a purely physical relationship with someone you weren't compatible with with no regard for you. and for what?
it hurt. it hurt bad and you wanted satoru to take the pain away.
your eyes rose to look at him, tears brimming in them. as always, satoru read you like an open book. no matter how much you would try to hide it, he was always acutely aware of your emotions. when you nodded, giving him the green light, he smiled widely.
he rose, face to face with you, before gently kissing you and tasting the tears that started to roll down your cheeks. a whine escaped your throat, instantly being swallowed up by satoru’s lips and stored away in his memory. your eyes fluttered closed and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks once again.
his lips were so perfectly soft against yours and your hands slid up to his chest to grip his shirt. his big hands were on your neck and cheek, holding you close as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip.
your lips parted willingly, letting his tongue slide against yours. meanwhile, your fingers did quick work of the buttons of his shirt, leaving him in just a black tank top that stretched over his muscular pecs. your hands slid underneath the shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and exposing his toned arms.
his hands slid down to your shoulders, playing with the straps of your skimpy dress. he pulled away, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he watched your already dazed expression.
“you were trying to get some tonight, hm? dressed like that,” he murmured against your lips. his smile widened as you nodded, averting your gaze in embarrassment. though he wasn't the man you had intended to be in bed with, you weren't complaining.
satoru was an attractive man, no one could deny that. his snow white, fluffy hair, his cerulean blue eyes, his soft lips. down to his lean build, muscles invisible under his baggy clothes and only exposed to those who have the honour to take him to bed.
“i know i’m not your boyfriend, but i’ll show you how he should be treating you,” satoru’s voice was low and his tone so sincere that tears burned in your eyes again. his calloused thumb wiped away the stray ones escaping, kissing your mascara-stained cheeks.
his kisses started travelling lower, along your jawline and down your neck. you closed your eyes with a sigh as satoru’s soft lips explored your hot skin. he gently pushed you back onto the soft mattress, his lips never leaving your neck. his tall frame towered over you, a feeling of safety embracing you.
he alternated between sucking and biting, marking you as his. quiet moans left your lips as his large hands found your soft breasts, massaging them through your dress. your nipples were already perked up, visible through the thin fabric.
“‘toru…” you whimpered, hands gripping his broad shoulders. your sounds were music to his ears. he pinched your nipples through your dress, making your back arch into him. that gave him the perfect opportunity to slide the straps off your shoulders, exposing you to the cold air in his bedroom as well as his hungry eyes.
“what is it, sweetheart?” he taunted, leaning down again to ravage your chest, hot mouth engulfing your perked bud. you whined, your hands finding purchase in his soft hair. the other breast was also getting attention. his big hand squishing it, rolling the sensitive nipple between his fingers. switching sides, the cold air made your saliva-slicked bud even more sensitive. he gently bit your nipple, making you moan his name and pull his hair.
pulling him off of you, he looked at you with dilated pupils and a cocky grin on his lips. your heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall.
“please, just make me forget about him.”
your dress was off in seconds, leaving you just in your skimpy lace underwear that sported a wet patch already. he took off his clothes down to his boxers equally as fast before focusing his attention back on you.
you felt so small underneath his intense gaze, his body framing yours as he leaned over you again to kiss you feverishly. you pulled him closer, hands wandering over his hot skin, feeling his muscles twitch and flex. satoru had a way of making everyone around him feel small due to his height but now you truly felt tiny underneath his large frame.
his kisses trailed down your chest again, going lower and lower until he knelt between your legs, nipping at the skin of your thighs. you sat up on your elbows to see his darkened eyes and his nose nudging against your covered cunt, inhaling your scent.
“all this for me? you shouldn't have,” he smirked, pressing a soft kiss against your clothed clit. you whined his name, wiggling and hinting at him to get on with it. he let out a chuckle and hooked his fingers under the waistband to pull your soaked underwear down your legs, a string of arousal connecting your cunt and the fabric. throwing the skimpy fabric over his shoulder, he placed his warm hands on the inside of your soft thighs as you tried to close your legs.
“nuh uh, baby, let me see what naoya’s been claiming.”
satoru gojo may not be a fan of commitment. but currently, he was hopelessly devoted to you.
okay, you and your wet cunt in front of his face. your folds were glistening with arousal, the scent of it overtaking his senses. all for him and him only.
he had dreamed about this for a long time. to have you like this underneath him, bashfully writhing and moaning for him to hurry up.
his lips found your thigh, fangs showing to nip your skin and mark you. you were watching him intently, mouth agape and drool threatening to run out of the corner.
when his hot tongue finally made contact with your pussy, your head fell back and a loud moan left your lips. the wet appendage was lapping up your juices and he moaned at your sweet taste. his eyes were trained on your face, brows furrowed in concentration.
he was dead set on fulfilling your wish. to make you forget your shitty boyfriend, erasing every bad memory from your mind and body.
his hands gripped your thighs, nails leaving crescent marks as your hips moved on their own, grinding against his hot mouth. his tongue flattened against your clit, providing you with just enough friction to grind against.
his scalp started to burn pleasantly with the way you were pulling him, using him to get yourself off. his tongue was so hot and wet against you and his lips curled into a smile when he noticed your moans getting louder and your hips stuttering against him.
he pulled away just as you were tiptoeing on the brink of orgasm, a needy whine leaving your lips.
“hah… why'd you stop, ‘toru? please, wanna cum,” you whimpered and he almost gave in if it wasn't for his plan.
his fingers spread your lips, watching your tiny hole clench around nothing. your glistening arousal dripping down your hole made his mouth water again. his long middle finger slid into your warmth slowly, your arms giving out underneath you and your back arching towards him.
he curled his finger upwards, finding the spongy spot in your walls almost immediately and abusing it right away. whimpers left your throat and you gripped the sheets next to you, fucking yourself on his finger.
“fuuck baby, s’tight. naoya isn't fucking you right, is he?”
a rhetorical question. if he would, you wouldn't be in this predicament.
he added a second one, his larger fingers stretching you out and reaching spots inside you that naoya never could. but just as you were close to cumming, he pulled his finger out, leaving you high and dry again.
“why'd you do that? i wanna cum, ‘toru, please, just let me,” you cried out, leaning up on wobbly arms with huffs and puffs.
“because i haven't given you your birthday taps yet.”
your eyes widened at his insinuation. satoru grinned at you before his big hand made contact with your pussy again.
but not in the way you had hoped and wanted.
a harsh slap echoed through the room, followed by a whine from your lips. the man between your legs grinned, fangs shining in the low light of your bedroom.
“c’mon baby, you gotta count,” he teased, calloused fingers drawing gentle circles on your swollen clit. “for good luck.”
you couldn't concentrate, feeling dizzy at the stimulation and your two denied orgasms already. but to satoru’s delight, you started counting. he kept going, always giving you a little breather in between and rubbing your clit or pushing his fingers inside you to keep you on edge. your thighs were trembling, littered with marks and your voice was starting to give out at the halfway point.
“please ‘toru, i wanna cum so bad,” you pleaded, gripping his wrist and looking at his smug face with tears rolling down your cheeks.
“you're almost done, baby. if you finish without cumming, i’ll give it to you,” he spoke, thumb rubbing your hot skin soothingly. truthfully, satoru didn't even know how he was lasting, dick painfully hard and dripping against the mattress. but he restrained himself somehow.
for you.
the last few slaps against your cunt were torturous, stars dancing behind your eyes with each slap and the coil threatening to snap.
“okay, you're done, baby. did s’well, you deserve a reward now, hm?” satoru teased before plunging two fingers into your dripping pussy, his tongue wet against your clit.
your back arched unnaturally off the bed, hands gripping his white strands. you almost blacked out from the pleasure as your hips gyrated against his fingers.
“oh, s’good, tha…thank you, thank you,” you panted, chasing ecstasy, “fuck, feels so good.”
“yeah? better than your shitty boyfriend?” he cooed, watching you get yourself off on him. your skin was glistening with sweat, the smell of your arousal filling the whole room and your moans just music to his ears.
“can't believe he'd wanna miss out on this,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. not that you would've heard, too busy getting lost in the pleasure.
“m’close, pleasepleaseplease, daddy!! please let me cum!” you begged and satoru’s heart leaped out of his chest at the nickname. he'd never expected you to call someone daddy but now that he heard it once?
he never wanted anyone else to hear it.
“come on then, make a mess, baby,” he said, giving you the green light, “make a mess on daddy’s fingers.”
satoru watched in delight as your body convulsed and your cunt gushed clear liquid into his waiting mouth. he was drinking up your juices and moaning against you, prolonging your orgasm. he slowed down his fingers, giving your clit kitten licks before pulling out with a wet squelch. his fingers were drenched in your juices and he lifted himself up, pushing his fingers past your lips.
he could've sworn he blacked out for a second when you looked at him with fucked out eyes and heart-shaped pupils. sucking your essence off his fingers and moaning around them.
“fuck, you're so hot. i can't believe he doesn't wanna fuck you 24/7. such a good girl,” he whispered. you whined, brain scrambled from how hard you came.
he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, giving you a heated kiss before rummaging around his room for a condom. once you came to your senses again and realised what he was looking for, you called out to him.
“satoru.”
he turned around, looking at you getting on your hands and knees shakily and looking back at him. his dick twitched in his underwear as you wiggled your ass at him, cunt dripping onto the sheets.
“you don't need one.”
at the premise of fucking you raw, he got behind you, boxers discarded in seconds and his fat cock grinding against your wet heat. your arousal was lubricating his length before he slowly pushed into your warm, wet cunt. he let out a moan, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. he bottomed out, feeling you clench around him and he tried his hardest not to bust right there.
“oh m’god, so big,” you whimpered, arms threatening to give out. one of satoru’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you up and closer to him. the other snaking up for his hand to cover your throat and squeezing gently. his chest was pressed against your arched back, his whole body caging you.
“yeah? like being filled up with daddy's cock?” he whispered in your ears and you whined, feeling your cunt stretching out. his hand snaked down to your sensitive clit, slowly circling his fingers and adding to the stimulation.
“s’good, daddy, please fuck me,” you moaned, drool escaping the corner of your mouth as you held onto satoru’s strong arms.
he started moving at your command. slowly, gently, feeling your walls hug his length so deliciously. his dick hit every sensitive spot of your walls, mushroom tip nudging against your cervix.
“fuck, baby, y’r so tight, so good f’me,” he grunted, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your shoulder before picking up the pace. his hips snapped against yours, your tits jiggling with every thrust.
your lips were parted, letting out a constant stream of moans at how deliciously painful satoru’s swollen tip bruised your insides. stretching you out and nudging that gummy, sensitive spot inside you that had you reeling towards the edge.
“g’na cum again, daddy. pleaseplease let me cum!” you whined, nails leaving red marks on his skin as you struggled to keep your hold on him. satoru smirked against your skin, sinking his teeth into your shoulder with a groan when you clenched around him. you were trying so hard to keep it in, to be a good girl.
all for him.
“cum for me then, make a mess on my cock, baby,” he whispered in your ear. he held you close to him as you shook, pussy clenching and gushing around him and soaking the sheets.
“oh fuuck, oh my god!” you whimpered when he slowly thrusted into you. he was prolonging your orgasm while inching closer to his own, your sensitive walls hugging his length so tightly.
satoru let go of you, letting you fall to the mattress. one of his hands gripping your hip tightly. the other was grabbing your hair, pulling your torso up. putting his foot onto the mattress for leverage, his thrusts began to speed up, a constant slapping sound echoing through his bedroom. his pink lips were parted, letting out deep grunts and moans of your name.
“gonna fill y’up, baby. gonna breed this little pussy, get you all nice and pregnant, so that asshole knows you’re mine. you'd like that, wouldn't you?,” he grumbled, completely pussydrunk.
“please, daddy, fill m’up, make me yours,” you mewled, absolutely drunk off the way he was hitting your g-spot over and over again. the coil in your stomach was tightening yet again.
his hips snapped into you, just a few thrusts more until he was stilling inside you. bottomed out, he let out a long moan as rope after rope of his cum painted your insides white. the warm feeling of his seed made you cum yet again, coating his length in your essence.
you two stayed still for a breath before satoru pulled out with a lewd squelch, watching as his cum slowly dripped out of your clenching hole. he grabbed the flesh of your buttock, using two fingers to push his cum back into you. he then took your phone, snapping a picture of your leaking cunt and sending it to naoya.
captioned: “it's mr. steal your girl! :3”
he wanted to block the contact but refrained, just for you to see his reaction. while he got off the bed, you flopped onto your side, heavy breathing making your chest rise and fall. he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your sweaty forehead, whispering that he'll be right back.
you didn't come back to your senses for a while, trying to make up what actually happened. guilt and anxiety overtook you, but the pleasant buzz of sex overshadowed it soon enough.
satoru returned quickly with a wet washcloth and a glass of water with a straw. he held it out for you, watching with heart-shaped pupils as you emptied the glass in mere seconds. the wet washcloth met your face, gently wiping away the sweat before he reached between your legs, wiping away the remnants of both your orgasms.
your eyes were struggling to stay open, trying desperately to fight sleep. a content smile lifted the corners of your mouth, a gentle simmer overtaking your heart.
“so this is how the great satoru gojo treats his hookups, huh?” you mumbled, not really expecting an answer. satoru’s hand settled on your cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly over the hot skin. the gentle touch forced you to look at him, tears burning in your eyes at the prospect of facing your actual boyfriend.
as if he could read your troubled mind, satoru leaned down again to press his lips against yours, trying to convey the loving thrum of his heart with just a kiss. but just in case it wouldn't work, he parted from you to speak.
“you weren't just a hookup though. this is how the great satoru gojo would treat his potential girlfriend if she would finally break up with her scumbag of a boyfriend,” he murmured, nose nudging yours, forcing an exhausted giggle out of you.
“but good thing, i already did it for you!” he held the phone up to your face, showing you the photo he sent to naoya as well as the slur of angry messages that followed, including one stating that he was breaking up with you. reading through it all with a slacked jaw, a breathy laugh erupted from your chest.
the realisation hit you in the face. you were finally free from the zen’in clan and their horrid heir. not that they'd care anyway.
“you're unbelievable, satoru!”
he took the liberty of blocking the contact now, setting your phone down on the nightstand.
“i truly really like you, i didn't just wanna give you some mind-blowing birthday sex. not that i’m complaining,” he laughed, reaching out for your hand. the giggle that left your lips had his heart doing somersaults.
“i truly want to see you happy and i’m a firm believer that you would be by my side. i know i always joke about it but i’m being honest right now. will you please be my girlfriend?” he asked, voice quiet and almost insecure which was an unusual phenomenon.
you felt your heartbeat pick up, the organ thrumming against your ribcage. you always had eyes for satoru. truthfully, you got with naoya out of spite in hopes that the feelings would subside. but the truth would always prevail.
“is that a rhetorical question? of course i will!”
satoru gojo, "mr. steal your girl", has only ever stolen one girl in his life and that was you.
but by god, was it worth it.
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a/n: WAHHHHHHH it's finally out of my system!! this is dedicated to my favourite gojo fucker @jabamin for her and gojo's birthday 🩷 (everyone go wish karina a happy birthday or else 🫵🏼) thank you to @tojiella for your help proofreading, also tagging @screampied @ramonathinks @c0pkiller @tetsuskei and @gojoest as fellow gojo lovers teehee. i hope you enjoyed, love you so much 💗
© marimogf 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.
3K notes · View notes
bluebeary-jay · 8 months
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Damage done
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Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)
Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully
Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts
Word count: 4K
A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌
It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.
So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.
It was about the play at Sarah’s school.
“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”
“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”
You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.
You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.
“It’s your kid, Joel–”
“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”
“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”
“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.
“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.
“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”
“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”
“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.
“No, you’re not.”
“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.
It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.
Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.
Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…
Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.
“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.
He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.
Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.
You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.
“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“No, you didn’t…”
“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”
Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.
But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”
He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.
“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”
He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.
“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”
A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.
“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”
You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.
“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”
“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”
Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.
Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.
“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”
“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”
You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.
“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”
His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.
Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.
You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.
“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”
“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”
You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.
And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.
“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”
“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”
You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.
“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.
“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”
Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.
“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”
He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.
Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.
Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.
You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.
Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.
“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”
You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.
And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.
You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…
You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.
You couldn’t lose him.
“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”
You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.
“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”
You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.
“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”
“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”
He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.
“What can I do?”
That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.
“What?”
“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.
“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”
Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.
“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”
The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.
“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”
“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.
“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”
You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”
“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”
You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.
His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.
“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.
“I want to take care of you.”
“But your back pains…”
“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”
You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”
His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.
He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.
But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.
“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.
“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.
“Can you… can you hold me?”
Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.
Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.
You knew you were safe with Joel.
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It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.
Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.
But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.
And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.
When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.
“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.
He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.
3K notes · View notes
slttygeto · 8 months
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"DON'T WANNA WAIT ON IT, TONIGHT I WANNA GET NASTY" | GETO. S
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synopsis: on your night out with your boyfriend, you start feeling a little needy which results in him taking matters into his own hands. but after being rudely interrupted by his best friend, suguru knows exactly what to do with you.
content warning (so much omg): porn with a bit of a plot, fem! reader, established relationship, there's a bit of a dom/sub dynamic between reader and geto but it's not very obvious, dry humping, making out in the car, semi-clothed sex, sex on the couch, cunnilingus, blowjob, praise<3 lots of it, pet names (baby), dirty talk, suguru knows how to talk, size kink, fucking on satoru's couch, throat/face fucking, squirting, strength kink. heavily not proof-read (i was too tired) really, just grab your shower head.
word count: 3,5k
note: thank u for almost 9k followers! and most importantly, i need to get railed by this man. and very soon.
another note: my one and only @aurelianamu was the one to suggest the idea btw!!!
comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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suguru loved you like this. when you were so horny and needy that no thought in your head was cohered, and all you cared about is having his cock inside you. the way you got flustered as you watched him drive, your face turning red and your breath catching in your throat when he fixed his pants or his shirt rode up a little to reveal the happy trail beneath the fabric. or how you immediately turned to look out of the window when he put his hand on your thigh, praying that he wouldn’t squeeze it.
suguru found it so amusing, how you were trying to act like none of it was affecting you but he could feel the way you were squeezing your thighs together, or shifting on the seat to grind your pretty clit against something, anything, even if it was the seat of his car.
which eventually resulted in him pulling the car over in a pretty dark area and ushering you to straddle his lap.
it wasn’t the most comfortable position, but you did not care—suguru’s lips are on yours. suguru was kissing you so good you were starting to feel dizzy, his hands were squeezing your thighs, your ass, your waist—and your were slowly starting to lose your mind at the electrifying feeling of his rough, big hands on your skin. he pulls away from your lips and kisses down your neck, smiling when you quickly melt on top of him and your hands are shakily placed on his shoulders, squeezing them to let him know he was making you feel so good (although your sounds were making it pretty obvious).
you start moving your hips back and forth on his crotch, and despite being pretty out of it and dizzy, you smile when you hear the muffled groan of your lover, his lips pausing at a certain spot on your neck before switching to his teeth.
he pulls away from your neck and stares at your hips, at loss for words at the way you swiftly roll them back and forth on his pretty visible bulge and he sighs, a hand gripping your side before staring up at you—your flushed face and fucked out look.
“fuck, you’re so sexy.” he whispers under his breath and lets his other hand find your other side, squeezing hard enough to make you pull up your shirt for him to see your skin. “that’s right, that’s it baby.” his praise sends tingles down to your pussy, and you think to yourself that there’s no way you were going to cum like this—in your clothes, in suguru’s car in some random place he found. but it was happening, and the realization that you were going this far just because you were horny for your lover seems to soak your panties even more.
but the moment is short lived when suguru’s phone starts pinging. once, then twice and then the sound of notifications is louder than your moans and your lover’s groans, and it’s hard to ignore it now. you huff a little when he reaches for his phone on the front board of his car and his eyes squint in annoyance trying to see who could possibly need him right now.
of course it’s his best friend.
gojo
dude
gojo
dude i left in a hurry this morning for a mission and i kinda dont know if i turned off the stove or not
gojo
you live pretty close could you pleaseeee go check on it for me?
gojo
ill pay you
gojo
actually i wont but pls go check it cause im really far away from home
suguru sighs out loud and leans back on the head rest of the seat. he sees your disappointed stare along with your flushed cheeks and brings a hand up to your face, thumb caressing your jaw before tracing your lips.
“sorry baby, we’re gonna have to start driving.”
“was it satoru?” your immediate and correct guess on who could possibly interrupt such a great moment has your lover smiling to himself before placing a hand behind your head and pulling you closer to him. he kisses you sweetly, tries not to deepen it but when you whine against his lips and pull away, he almost says fuck it and pushes his seat back to fuck you on all fours.
“it must be urgent,” you say against his lips before shuffling back to your seat. “come on, lets go.”
suguru hates when you’re this disappointed and sad, he wishes he could tell satoru he didn’t see the messages and take you to the back seats of the car to fuck your brains out. but he knows that satoru knows him too well, and that there’s no way he didn’t see the messages.
he starts the car and on the way there, suguru comes up with an idea. he doesn’t share it with you, knowing that you would immediately shut it down and flat out refuse. so he waits until you two get there to share his plan with you, knowing very well that a simple kiss and grinding his painful bulge against your core would easily make you give in to it.
when you arrive to satoru’s place, you feel tired, worn out. you and suguru did absolutely nothing beside dry humping, but having it be interrupted so suddenly made your mood drop a bit too hard. you stand in the living room of the strongest himself, looking at the various framed pictures of himself and your lover through every single ugly, awkward and embarrassing phase of their lives and it’s heartwarming.
but one thing you can never get used to is how expensive satoru is. you forget that he swims in money, and so his apartment was a duplex that reeked of opulence, with furniture that probably cost more than your yearly income. you try not to touch anything and choose to stand next to the couch while your boyfriend checks the house to see if his best friend did indeed leave anything on.
“he needs to put cameras here or something,” you say when you see your boyfriend approach the living room with a relaxed stance, hands in his pockets.
“hm, why?”
“it’s pretty fancy, you don’t think he could get robbed?” suguru smiles at your worry and places a hand on the back of your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“i’m pretty sure anyone who thinks it’s a good idea to rob satoru is stupid.” it doesn’t ease your worry but you decide to let go of it.
“well, if everything is safe then let’s go.” suguru’s hand doesn’t leave the back of your head. instead, it travels down to the small of your back and pushes you closer to him, your chests flushed against one another.
“we’re not in a hurry baby, and we were in the middle of something before coming here.” you freeze when you realize what he was insinuating and your hands immediately go up to his chest, in hopes of making him realize what he was suggesting in the first place.
“baby… we’re in satoru’s house,” you laugh nervously, hoping that the mention of his best friend's name snaps something in him-- but you don’t try to push him away, the arousal that you felt in the car coming back in strong waves when you notice the lustful stare of your boyfriend.
“and? satoru is not here,” his other hand rests on the back of your thigh and travels up to your ass, squeezing the flesh. “I left my baby hanging,” he leans down and brushes his lips against your quickening pulse. “you were so close in the car, I’m sure I can make you cum quickly, yeah?”
normally, you wouldn’t have agreed to this, to being fucked stupid on satoru’s expensive camel leather couch in his living room. you would’ve pushed your boyfriend’s head away from between your thighs and told him how absolutely insane all of this was. normally, you wouldn’t be this fucking horny to begin with.
but you were, and it was stopping you from thinking straight.
suguru on his knees was already enough to make you drool, but the way he had pushed your skirt up and gripped your thighs before diving into your pussy—you were starting to think all of this was a dream. but when you looked down and locked eyes with an eager looking suguru, tonguing at your clit before sliding his nose over the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue past your folds, you felt how real all of this was.
you were a mess, chest heaving and hands not knowing what to hold onto. they rest on your boyfriend’s shoulders but you quickly retreat them when he starts sucking on your clit so good, your back arches off of the couch.
“oh—“ you buck up your hips but suguru easily pins you back down with a single hand. “oh god.” you sigh and throw your head back, hands gripping onto the couch.
your boyfriend looks up once again, and he has to hold himself back from fisting his cock at the sight of you—a fucked out mess from his mouth. your hair was everywhere, and your lips looked swollen from his kisses. you don’t seem to notice the way he’s staring at you, solely focused on the way he’s sucking on your clit and he chuckles. he does and watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, so fucking pretty.
you try to fuck yourself on his tongue, grinding on his mouth for any sort of relief. your could taste your orgasm, it was at the tip of your tongue and when suguru pins you down to the couch with his strong hands, watching his arms flex is what sends you over the edge.
“that’s right, baby come on,” his praise makes you whine out loud. “come on baby, let that pussy make a mess on me.”
you cum on suguru’s tongue with a mixture of a cry and a whine, toes curling and your thighs shaking as you try to come down from your orgasm. each kiss your boyfriend presses to your clit as you let your orgasm wash over you sends a jolt through your body, and right when you think he’s done, he’s standing up and the visible bulge in his pants makes your mouth water.
you expect him to free his cock from his pants, and the eager look on your face makes him chuckle.
“what? you want this?” his hand palms his cock and you nod, hands resting on his thighs as his bulge is now at eye level with you. “this is what you’ve been wanting all night, right baby?” his hand rests at the top of your head, and your chest swells with something when you look up at him and find him staring down at you, looking so proud. butterflies dance in your stomach as you hold eye contact with him, your hand tracing his bulge with delicate fingers.
“go on, kiss it,” your hands start to unbuckle his belt but his quiet “ah, ah” makes you halt your movements.
“kiss it through the pants baby, I don’t think you’re ready to have it yet,” you don’t try to protest, fingers grabbing his thighs before pressing a kiss to his bulge. you drag your tongue over the fabric of his pants until you reach his belt. you push up his shirt and kiss his stomach before sliding your tongue over the same happy trail that almost drove you crazy earlier that night.
“one more baby,” his hand rests under your chin and tilts up for you to look at him. you kiss the bulge again, and again and again. you hear suguru chuckle from above and his hand caresses your throat for a bit.
you watch with eager eyes as his hand starts to unbuckle his belt and you rest your hands on the back of his thighs, patiently waiting for him to throw the belt somewhere before you’re unzipping his pants and freeing his cock from its confines. you hold his heavy in your hand, stroke it a couple of times before kissing the angry tip.
“fuuuck, look at you,” his hand goes back to your neck and squeezes it. “not so worried about satoru finding out anymore, hm?” the lazy grin he flashes you makes you shift on the couch and you’re suddenly aware that you’re grinding your pussy against satoru’s couch.
you shake your head and tap the tip of his dick on your lips and then wrapping them around the sensitive head. you pull away from his cock completely before kissing the base of his cock, the sight of you appreciating his cock with kisses and licks makes suguru place a hand on top of your head.
“shit, baby,” you lick all the way from the base up to the tip before pushing his cock inside your mouth. your hand wraps around the rest of his cock and you start to bob your head at a slow pace, your smaller fingers trying their best to stimulate all of his cock. suguru looks absolutely breathtaking from this angle.
his hair was sticking to his forehead and he had his shirt pull all the way up, holding it in place with his hand. his hips buck towards your mouth a few times and you gag each time, pulling away from him to breathe only to wrap your mouth around him not only five seconds later. he wishes he could find your eagerness amusing, but he finds it hot. he can feel his thighs tingling and the drool that’s trickling down to his balls makes the sight of you sucking him off on his best friend’s couch even hotter.
“yeah, just like that,” he sighs and throws his head back. his eyes flutter shut and you take it as a sign to go faster, your other hand finds his balls and you carefully start to fondle them, you hollow your cheeks and bob your head faster.
“fuck baby, mhm,” he looks down at you and finds you staring up at him, flashing you a smile that reaches up to his flushed cheeks. “god, I could fall in love all over again.”
you let go of his balls and slowly let go of his base before bracing yourself on his thighs. suguru watches as you inhale before pushing his entire cock down your throat, gagging and then pulling away.
“b-baby,” he chokes out, his hand finding the back of your head. you repeat the same motion once, and then twice and the faster you got, the harder it was for suguru to have complete control over himself.
“breathe in for me,” his hands grab your face and you do as he tells you, closing your eyes as you brace yourself for the contact. suguru starts fucking your face at a slow pace, but it picks up when he hears the sound of your throat being absolutely destroyed. you gag on him a couple of time and there’s drool on your lap and on the couch, but you don’t let it stop you from nuzzling your nose against suguru’s pubes.
your boyfriend chokes out a few curse words as he cums down your throat, and when he pulls away, his hands are all over your neck, caressing it and praising you for taking him so well. you cough a few times and there’s tears running down your cheeks, but you still manage to flash your tall lover a drunken smile and your hand finds its way towards his very sensitive cock.
“baby—“ he tries to protest, his eyes squeezing shut.
“more suguru,” you kiss the tip and he almost falls over. “I want more. if we’re gonna do it on satoru’s couch, might as well make it worth it, yeah?”
you were the devil, and suguru who usually bragged about how hard it is for anyone to trick him was easily falling in your trap.
he towers over you on the couch and kisses you so roughly you’re pushed back on the couch. your legs wrap around his middle and your arms find his neck, and you can’t deny how good it feels to have suguru’s big body covering you whole with so much ease.
his cock quickly hardens from you two making out, and when you feel it poke your thigh, your hand reaches down to stroke it and your thumb grazes the tip.
“you’re having too much fun,” he whispers against your lips and you giggle, but it quickly dies down when he pushes past your wet folds with so much ease. you don’t need time to adjust, but the force in which he was fucking you with knocks the wind out of your lungs.
“satoru will never find out what we did on his couch,” he says, out of breath. “he will never know that I ate this weeping pussy so good on his couch,” his hand then finds your neck and squeezes with a lazy grin. “or that I’m fucking it stupid while he’s away on a mission,”
each word goes straight towards your pussy, your brain seems to stop functioning because you stop responding to your boyfriend and your lips are parted in pleasure. his thrusts are getting rougher and sloppier, and he presses a hand on your stomach with an eager grin.
“if you’re gonna cum on me again, might as well make it messy.” you don’t understand what he means at first, too lost in the feeling of your approaching orgasm on your fingertips. but when it washes over you in violent waves and small cries and suguru fails to pull away from you, but chooses to press harder on your stomach, you start to panic.
“suguru—“ you choke out a sob when the tip of his cock keeps abusing the same spot and over again. “suguru, it’s too much—!”
“you can take it,” his voice is low and his eyes are fixated on the way your squelching pussy seems to not want to let go of him. “just one more baby, okay? one—“ he sighs out and his pace falters for a second but he finds eagerness once again when he sees your head thrown back and hears the cries of pleasure.
he pushes your legs up to your chest and presses them there as he pounds into you with all of his strength. the couch starts moving with each monstrous drive of his hips, and your eyes widen when you feel something down there.
“suguru wait—“ your hands try to push at his shoulders. “m-messy, it’s gonna be messy!”
“good,” he keeps fucking into you and pins you down to the couch with his weight. “come on, I know this pussy can make a mess,”
your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his pelvis rub down on your clit, and along with the tip of his cock incessantly abusing that sensitive spongy spot, your body finally lets go and you let the earth shattering orgasm wash over you in shaky waves and a loud cry.
suguru curses under his breath when he feels you spray him with hot liquid but he doesn’t stop and continues to fuck into you until he empties himself inside you with a groan before pulling away from you, afraid to hurt you by plopping himself on top of you.
it takes you a good minute to catch your breath, and suguru caresses your stomach snd thighs, soft praises fill the air before you can finally look him in the eye with a less hazy mind.
“hi baby,” he says softly, a hand resting on your stomach.
“hi,” you reply in a voice barely above a whisper and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” you don’t say anything and let him lift you up and carry you to one of satoru’s guest bathrooms.
despite feeling drowsy, your earlier concern resurfaces at the top and when you jolt as your boyfriend sits you on the toilet seat, he quickly expresses his worry about hurting you.
“did I hurt you?”
“are we gonna clean satoru’s couch before we leave?”
suguru stares down at you in amusement but answers you anyway.
“I’ll get a cleaner baby, you don’t worry that pretty head, okay?” you hum in response. there’s silence for a moment before you speak up again.
“that poor cleaner,” you say sleepily, head resting on suguru’s stomach. “give him a tip, okay?”
your boyfriend stifles a laugh and pats your head.
“yeah baby, no problem.”
two days later, you’re laying in bed with your boyfriend, watching a random show on TV before his phone starts pinging again. you both lock eyes before he's checking who's texting him. and lo and behold,
gojo
SO YOU DID TAKE MY OFFER
gojo
i told you my couch is comfortable
gojo
but damn getting a cleaner for it???? you two sure got comfortable
suguru shows you the messages exchanged between himself and his best friend and he laughs when your face still turns a red color.
“I told you he wouldn’t mind.”
“no! he knows we’re messy!” your boyfriend pulls you on top of him and his hand lands on your ass with a harsh smack.
“you mean filthy,”
“not the point!”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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quicksilversg1rl · 5 months
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thinking about young!coriolanus snow using his fingers to shut you up ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
you were seated on his lap in his study, your bare pussy deliciously grinding down onto his clothed erection, a wet patch forming on the fabric; your head was thrown back, tits bouncing as your hips met his.
he watched you intently, eyes scanning your flushed figure as you made a mess on his pants.
suddenly his office phone started ringing, your hips stilling as your head picked up, watching as coriolanus reached for the phone. you were about to get up and throw your clothes back on when his left hand lightly tapped your ass, signalling for you to keep going.
your eyes widened, a smirk evident on his face at your reaction; you as well as coriolanus knew that you couldn’t keep quiet to save your life.
your hips slowly began to lull forward, his very prominent bulge and the fabric of his pants catching on your bundle of nerves oh so sweetly, causing your teeth to sink into your bottom lip, a soft whimper slipping out, causing coriolanus to give you a look.
you muttered out an inaudible 'sorry’, tears brimming at your waterline as you tried to keep your moans at bay, but how could you, with his dick hitting your clit so perfectly, you couldn’t help but let out a moan, the elitist coriolanus was talking to asking if everything was okay on his end.
your eyes widened as you realized what had happened, coriolanus’ right hand covering the microphone as his left hand moved to grip your chin, his nails digging into your cheeks.
“coryo i’m sorry,” you huffed out, your hips still moving as you looked at him, lashes fluttering as you looked up at him.
coriolanus swore he could cum just by the way you were looking up at him, your naked body shining under the orange hue of the overhead lights in his study, your hair sticking to your forehead, bottom lip bitten red.
“tsk tsk, you can’t even follow simple instructions and keep quiet for me, now can you bunny?” he spoke, his eyes lowering to your aching wet cunt grinding down onto his painfully hard dick.
“i suppose i’ll just have to keep you quiet myself hmm..” he muttered out, shaking his head as his thumb moved to glide over your bottom lip, your lips parting as his digit slid into your mouth, thumb pressing down onto your tongue as your lips wrapped around it.
your eyes closed as your tongue glided around his thumb, your lips plump as they sucked, coriolanus softly grunting at the sight as he moved his hips up to meet yours, the phone pressed to his ear as he hummed to whatever the person on the other end was saying, not even caring what they had to say, the only thing on his mind being how he was going to fuck you silly on every single surface in his study.
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this is for you nic @bluemerakis 🐇💖
likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🎀
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚
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leaderwonim · 4 months
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𓇻 I’M A FEMINIST, OBVIOUSLY, BUT I WOULDN’T REALLY MIND HIM SAVING ME.
▸ PAIRING.. class president!yang jungwon x outcast!fem!reader
▸ SYNP. jang y/n hated yang jungwon. perfect, loved by everybody, class president yang jungwon. people only liked him because he was a man and he was charismatic. however, when she’s being picked on by the girls at school, yang jungwon comes to her rescue, and weirdly, she didn’t mind it?
▸ GENRE. enemies to lovers (it’s one sided though, yn just hates jw😭) angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of sexism, fluff
author’s note: this is based off of olivia rodrigo’s unreleased song! This was honestly so much fun to write and it took me about 3 days cause I fell violently ILL like the day after I started writing😭 As usual, REBLOGS and COMMENTS are so greatly appreciated <33
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Jang Y/N was what people called an outcast. Although she was pretty and had the grades, she heavily disliked half of her class, which in turn, didn’t exactly make her very popular.
“I hate him.” She says as she shoves a spoonful of rice into her mouth. Her only friend was her sister, Wonyoung, who told her that she shouldn’t be so negative all the time.
“Who, Jungwon?” Wonyoung asks, frowning. “Yah Y/N, you can’t hate him forever. He’s nothing but nice to you.”
“I don’t care,” Y/N mumbles angrily, putting away her lunch. “Wonyo, people only like him because he’s a man who can say a few charming words. He smiles and at least half of our class falls onto their knees or something.”
Wonyoung chokes at her sister’s comparison, and can’t help but let out a little laugh. “I��m just saying Y/nie, you can’t just despise him because he seems perfect to the naked eye. In fact, I say become friends with him. It’ll be good for you.”
Y/N shuts down the idea right away, much to Wonyoung’s dismay.
“I am just saying,” Wonyoung stands up, finished with her lunch. “I mean, don’t you find it sad? That you eat lunch everyday with your sister instead of eating with friends or a boyfriend?”
“No,” Y/N says, frowning. “I like eating lunch with you Wonyo.”
“Hm, I guess.”
The Jang sisters lock arms, strolling to their next class. They miss the longing glance that Yang Jungwon sends towards Y/N’s direction, already too far gone into the Decelis Academy hallway.
‏‏‎ ‎
Unfortunately for Y/N, she had her leadership class with Jungwon, where they would discuss things like student politics and how to better the school so that Decelis could stay at its rightful place of number one on private academy rankings.
It was stupid, Y/N thought, Decelis shouldn’t even be close to number one, this school was filled with a bunch of spoilt children who were obsessed with the idea of money and power.
“Is there a problem, Miss. Jang?” The teacher asks, noticing the little scoffs she was adding each time Jungwon spoke about an initiative he wanted to add.
“No,” Y/N shrugs. “I just think Yang Jungwon’s new initiative is just a waste of time. It's not going to solve anything.”
Jungwon smirks, something that Y/N so desperately wants to wipe the floor with. “Y/N, always the critic of my ideas. Very well, let’s hear your brilliant solution.”
She rolls her eyes. Of course Yang Jungwon wanted to pretend to remain civil, if he had blown up on her, it would’ve tarnish his reputation, and Yang Jungwon would be nothing without his reputation, right?
“Instead of your one-size-fits-all approach method, we need personalized mentorship programs. Each student faces unique challenges, and your initiative doesn't address that.”
Jungwon smiles. “Well I suppose you’re right. But perhaps if you actually joined the initiative, you'd understand its effectiveness.”
Y/N grits her teeth, not enjoying how much Yang Jungwon was enjoying this. “Oh, right, because following the herd blindly is the key to success? Unlike half of Decelis’ population, I prefer independent thinking.”
The boy leans closer in, face almost touching the girl. “Sometimes collaboration is the key to progress, Y/N. Try it sometime.”
The two students make eye contact until Y/N breaks, finally pulling her eyes away.
“As usual, Yang Jungwon always has to be right.” She mumbles under her breath. “God, please save me from being in this class any longer,”
‏‏‎ ‎
Y/N throws her backpack on the floor as soon as she steps into her house, not caring about the expensive computer her grandmother had bought her last Christmas that was stuffed inside. Her parents were in the kitchen, discussing something in hushed whispers, almost as if it was top secret.
Always being the curious child, she leans onto the wall that separated the living room and kitchen, trying to make out what the topic was about.
“I’m just worried honey,” she can hear her mom say as her dad rubs her back comfortingly. “Y/N doesn’t have a lot of friends at that school, Wonyoung told me about it. You know she only hangs out with her sister and that’s it?”
“I mean, is it really that bad that she only hangs out with Wonyoung? She’s always been quiet, I think we’ve just got to respect that. She’s an excellent student anyway, there’s no harm in having little friends.”
Although her parents truly just wanted the best for her, Y/N felt like a complete loser by how they were going about it.
She quickly rushed to her room, biting her lip in annoyance at how everybody seemed to have an opinion about her life. She was happy with how it was going, and she didn’t care that her only friend was her sister, Wonyoung was a sweetheart and lived with her, it was a built in best friend for life.
“Just you wait,” Y/N huffs, sharpening her pencil. “I’m gonna go to university, leave this place, and I won’t have to hear about any of these kids ever again.”
‏‏‎
Y/N woke up the next day with a red eye, probably from crying last night despite telling herself she didn’t care.
She cared, a lot.
Romanticizing being alone was fun until she realized that she was truly all alone, with no friends to lean on.
“Is that Jang Y/N?”
Park Jiwon. The devil herself. She was evil as she was pretty, and she had no problem making Y/N’s life a living hell.
“Where’s Wonyoung? Did your own sister finally get tired of you?” Her little group of minions laugh as if it was the funniest thing ever, and Y/N tries and stops herself from giving them all a swing to the face.
“No, but I’m sure you’re used to that feeling, right Jiwon?”
“Oh you little b—”
“Jiwon, you can’t hit her! You’ll get suspended and it’ll go on your permanent record.” Her friend says, which makes the girl straighten up right away.
“You’re lucky Jang,” the girl snarls. “But yah, what were you thinking? Talking back to Jungwon? He’s so smart and handsome, dedicating his time to make initiatives for the school. You should be more grateful.”
She and her minions get so close that they practically push Y/N back onto the locker, suffocating her with their glares.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” The voice of Jungwon doesn’t go unnoticed by a single girl, who, all but Y/N, straighten up their hair when they realize he’s behind them.
“We’re just talking, right Y/N?” Jiwon says, pinching onto the girl tightly.
“Really? It doesn’t seem like it.” Jungwon rolls his eyes. “Park Jiwon, don’t make me give you detention for picking on other students. It doesn’t make you attractive.”
The girl gasps, immediately letting Y/N go as her face heats up in embarrassment.
“I wasn’t—”
“Just go.” With one point of a finger, Yang Jungwon got Park Jiwon and her minions out of the hallway, leaving Y/N and him alone.
“You okay?” He asks her, eyes concerned.
“Thank you,” she breathes out. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Why didn’t I?” He raises his eyebrows. “You were getting picked on.”
“Well, I’m not the nicest to you.” The girl says, suddenly embarrassed. “At all, actually. So thank you Jungwon, really.”
“Ah,” the boy smiles. “It’s nothing. I don’t hate you if that’s what you think, I think you have a brilliant mind just like me.”
And for the first time since she’s stepped into the school, Jang Y/N finds herself liking Yang Jungwon, and not just for his looks.
‏‏‎
“Y/N!” The loud voice of Yang Jungwon doesn’t go by Wonyoung, who gives her sister a smirk as she slightly pushes back her shoulder.
“Wonder why he’s coming,” she teases, which makes Y/N scrunch up her nose in annoyance.
“Would you like to come with me to this new bread place?” He asks, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Sorry—I ran all the way from the cabinet office to here.”
“It’s alright,” Y/N giggles, which makes Wonyoung’s eyes pop out of their sockets because she swears she never heard that sound coming from her sister’s mouth before. “I’d love to Jungwon.”
“Great! I’ll uh.. I’ll see you later!”
Wonyoung turns to face Y/N as soon as Jungwon leaves, giving her the biggest grin ever. “What was that?!”
“Let’s just say, I don’t hate Yang Jungwon anymore.” Y/N smiles, laughing as she watches Wonyoung’s jaw practically drop to the ground.
‏‏‎
“It’s cold, isn’t it?” Jungwon says as he and Y/N walk to the new bread place.
“Yes,” Y/N puffs out, “I should’ve brought a jacket.”
Before she knew it, Jungwon already takes off his jacket and wraps it around the girl’s shoulder.
“Jungwon,” she whines, “then you’ll be cold!”
“It’s alright really!” He laughs, giving her a big smile. “I’m practically invincible to cold. Was just asking because you seemed to be freezing.”
“You’re sweet,” she says, looking down at her feet. “I feel really guilty for trying to one up up all the time or prove you wrong. I just hate it, you know?”
“Hate what?”
“You might not realize it but a lot of people don’t want to hear what I say because I’m a woman, and that’s it. Just because I’m a woman. Like sometimes, I have ideas just as brilliant and changing as yours, but everybody says I’m complaining and over analyzing. When you say it, with your handsome face and clear voice, everybody’s suddenly entranced, and they’re so interested in school politics.”
“So you think I’m handsome?”
Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing back Jungwon slightly as he laughs.
“I’m kidding, Y/N. I know what you mean now. I’m sorry that I can’t change how people view and perceive things, but I want you to know that I listen to your ideas, that I care. You might not realize this either but whenever you’re talking, I always listen. Like your initiative about bringing better programs into the school, I listened through the whole thing because I just—I’m inlove with the way you articulate things and the way you speak. If I was half as good at speaking my mind like you were, I’d be unstoppable. You’re a great person, Y/N, and I’m so glad I’m able to see that.”
The way Yang Jungwon speaks about her makes Y/N want to cry and smother him in a hug, which she does a second later by bringing him into a bone crushing hug.
“Thank you Jungwon.” She says, face in his neck. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He feels like he’s out of breath by how close the two of them were, his heartbeat racing by each second that passed. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N.”
‏‏‎
“Hey!” Y/N is practically used to seeing Yang Jungwon come up to her everyday now, the two even spending lunch together every two days.
“What’s up Yang?” She says, noticing a packet of papers in his hand.
“You know your feedback on my initiative? Your personalized mentorship program idea! The headmaster really liked it and he’s implementing it starting next semester with your name as the credit on it!”
Y/N’s eyes widen in joy, shrieking as her hands unconsciously come in contact with Jungwon’s, the two holding both of each other’s hands tightly as they jumped in happiness.
“You’re amazing Yang Jungwon!” She says giddily, “you really are.”
The two of them stop to stare at one another for a brief second before Jungwon finds himself leaning in, closing the gap between their lips.
When they pull away, the smiles on their faces never fades, Jungwon’s dimple ever so prominent.
“I love you,” Y/N breathes out. “My wonderful class president.”
And although Y/N is a feminist, obviously, she wouldn’t mind a man like Yang Jungwon saving her, for he taught her what love was like, and that she should never ever settle for less.
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ghostarii · 9 months
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GLASS TABLE GIRL ! ~ BLADE . ❛ i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.
˖ ⁺ ⫾  SHOW NOTES fem!reader ❱ guitarist!blade ❱ groping ❱ reader is a groupie ❱ PWP!!! ❱ (reader is intoxicated so technically) dubcon ❱ spanking ❱ degradation ❱ clit n nipple slapping ❱ ig ooc!blade but who cares ❱ choking/asphyxiation ❱ size kink ❱ dacryphilia ❱ outdoor/public sex ❱ exhibitionism ❱ spit ❱ face-fucking ❱ dirty talk ❱ reader has 0 self respect ❱ name calling ❱ overstimulation ❱ creampie & unprotected sex (stay safe) ❱ clit pinching ❱ hair pulling ❱ multiple orgasms ❱ cumplay(?) ❱ no aftercare ❱ minors & dc antis do not interact.
˖ ⁺ ⫾  CREDITS i have not written a fic in so effing long nd i was high writing this so excuse my rustiness :c but i have risen from my grave so let’s rejoice nonetheless ! !blade is on my mind 24/7 n i just want to be used n abused by him omfg turn me OWT! i listened to one of the girls by the weeknd literally the entire time i wrote this sooo feel free to listen while reading ^_^ i was js writing as i went so ts is very pwp sorryyy . . i’m gonna try to be more active on here i js need time to write so in the meantime pls show that my works would be appreciated here =( likes & reblogs are so GREATLY APPRECIATED ! ! ! if u don’t like, pls scroll cs comm guidelines r so mean to creators T_T
˖ ⁺ ⫾  RUN TIME 7.5k+ words . (of pure filth)
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IF SOMEBODY ASKED you who your favorite artist was, you would say Ren—known by his moniker: BLADE. There was nothing you didn't like about this man; everything about him fundamentally and ultimately was the object of a girlish obsession. You knew all of his songs front to back, followed his social media on every single platform, and never missed a single piece of media uploaded about him. Your life was built around his style: dark and mysterious and enigmatic. He was your number one, unmatched and unchanged.
He was a hard man to come by. He frequently held small shows, with no more than twenty-thousand people on the high end. It was impossible to go, and every time you tried, your chance miserably passed you up. But this time, June twenty-third, twenty-twenty-three, you were right there, in the middle of the pit, only mere feet away from Blade. It was your first time seeing him in person by the grace of your best friend who surprisingly snagged tickets, and you’d never been more grateful in your life.
Blade was ethereal. The concert videos you’d seen over the years did not compare to the image in front of your face. It was dark, the main lights being spotlights shone on his pearly, perspiring, black, skin-tight silk-clothed skin, and dim red LED lights on the set behind him. His fingers ran effortlessly across his guitar, an inexplicably attractive riff and tone singing from the instrument. You felt like you were in Heaven, your eyes never leaving the show before your eyes. It was hot and uncomfortable in the pit but it was worth it. So worth it because he looked at you: taking you in with an unfaltering stare. His lip slipped between his teeth, and he shook his head, throwing stray locks to the back, and God, you felt as though you needed to be bolted to the ground with the way you wanted to jump on the stage. He walks up to the microphone, the most gut-wrenchingly hot vocals sliding off of his tongue. His eyes were closed, smudged eyeliner emphasizing his fluttering, long lashes, and his lips were spit-slicked, parting and pursing with each sultry lyric leaving. They were plump and rosy as if they were asking to be kissed—it was a sight to behold.
You sang your heart out, dragging your hand from waving in the air down a curvy path on your body, going from your shoulder to your chest to below where Blade’s sight would reach. You turned to your friend and recited the lyrics with a big smile and following giggle, all to turn your attention back to the stage and lock eyes with him. Your thighs clamped together just at the narrowed and burning gaze he delivered. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted a man more than you do right now.
Your friend found a way closer to the stage and you wedged your way between the crowd, finding yourself so close that the speakers were banging on your eardrums. You could feel the music in your bones, and all you could think of to describe it was hot and heavy. Maybe it was all of the pregaming you and your friend did before the concert, or the condensed heat and gyrating bodies, but you were so hot. You wipe your sweaty skin as you sway to the beginning of the next song, taking out your phone to begin recording.
Blade leans into the mic, muttering lowly, “I want you all to sing.” He pulls the microphone out of the stand, letting his guitar hang off of his shoulder from the strap. And that’s when he makes his way to where you stand, muttering small “yeah”’s and “good job”’s into the mic as the crowd collectively sings. He kneels right before you, “Sing.” he says into the mic.
You go wide-eyed—cute, he thinks—but you start singing. You grab an open portion of the microphone, leaning in as close as possible and reciting the lyrics of the song just as you were told. All eyes and cameras were on you, and that included Blade, who held an intense gaze on you the entire verse. When you finish the crowd erupts in cheers and screams, and he pulls away, finishing the song. You turned to your friend and screamed about your main character moment, dancing and singing even happier into her recording phone. This was the best night of your life.
For the rest of the concert, you had the time of your life. Blade ends the show with a final guitar solo, the entire audience silent as he wrecks the strings and pours his heart into his vocals. He briefly spoke to his fans, thanking everyone for coming out and heading backstage as everyone began to clear out. And all he could think about was that girl who his eyes couldn't help but wander toward, and to whom his thoughts dedicated his innuendos. He remembers the sign you held at the beginning of the show: “BLADE ♡WNS M(Y)E (HEART) ♡”. Your eyes honed filth that your natural disposition didn’t and he longed for it. He held bated breath as he informed his security about you, requesting you be located and brought to him and they replied with “We’ll try our best, sir.”
It was an after-concert tradition for Blade to hit up a local club, especially in situations like this where it was his last stop. He hoped he’d find you there, but he knew you would, especially if you were as big of a fan as you looked.
“Yukong, just thirty minutes! Please!!” you pleaded, trying to pull your friend into your opinion. She shook her head no, “I can’t! I have to go home! I’m so tired and you know…” you stop your friend there, not wanting to hear about her boyfriend.
“Fine. I’m still going though, text me when you get home.” you didn’t want Yukong to go home. But arguing was pointless, and only time was being put to the test, not her stubbornness. You knew from your years as a Blade fan that he always went to the club after a concert to meet fans, and some rumors even suggested ulterior motives, so you wanted to go. Yukong frowned at your flat expression but still hugged you, waving at you as she got in her car to go home. You’d be flying solo, but you had faith in yourself.
So you make your way over to the nearest club via taxi, praying that this is the one that Blade would visit. You weren’t all too familiar with the place, its name, Starskiff Haven, only being one you’ve heard in passing. Regardless, your thoughts were assured by the abundance of fighting and pushing bodies to get in the door—and when your phone lit up, a Twitter notification from a Blade Updates page noting his location, Starskiff Haven, you smiled widely, making your way to the line.
It was way too long and you weren’t interested in waiting all night—you had to meet Blade. A time like this is when Yukong comes into hand with her very stern persuasion, something that’s near impossible to deny. But she left, and you’d have to figure out a way in. And a thought immediately came to mind.
You walked to the front of the line, breathing in deeply and psyching yourself up for how incredibly you were about to embarrass yourself. When you exhale, you book it, beelining straight into the club, right past security. You immediately shift your demeanor, blending into the crowd seamlessly as security guards rush in, looking around for you. Hiding behind the most cluelessly drunk girl, you make your way to the bar, immediately ordering a sidecar. It packed a punch and the combination of how many shots you had earlier, it’d be just enough to get you through whatever you were about to do.
You turn around in the swivel stool, taking in the atmosphere and coasting the area for any sighting of Blade. The club was darker than the concert but heavily illuminated with hazy, colorful LEDS and much, much louder, filled to the brim with chatter and deafening bass-boosted music. Your drink was brought to you moments later, and with a big sip, you raked your eyes over the club once again. You could see bodies grinding on the main floor, the DJ bopping his head as his hands moved diligently across his DJ controller, couples making out and slipping into cornered areas, and friend groups recording and taking pictures. It was a lively environment, sure, and from the strength that beat on your tongue, established by incredibly skilled bartenders—but you weren’t looking for a new clubbing spot, you were looking for Blade.
And Blade was looking for you. Swimming through the unforgivingly hot crowd for you. He wasn’t itching to have you, he was itching to take you. Every time he closed his eyes he was brought back to his time on stage and how you danced in the audience. How your lips pushed out his lyrics and how your hands couldn’t stop waving in the air and running on your skin. How you swiped off sweat from your forehead and fanned yourself with your sign. And how you couldn’t keep your star-filled eyes off of him. Every light reflection off of your eyes showed desperation and neediness. You were begging to be picked without ever uttering a word, and he was not one to ignore indulgence. You needed him and he wanted you—so where are you?
Perched on that blue-velvet cushioned swivel stool. Sipping whatever remaining contents of your sidecar. And when he saw you, you saw him. You locked eyes and each plastered ill-intended smirks across your faces. And while you had his attention, you brought the glass to your lips, smacking them open and running your tongue along the sugar rim, collecting the sweetness on your tongue. You sucked on your tongue, rolling your eyes and he swears the “Ahh” leaving your lips is audible from his distance. He stayed still even as you slapped down your money on the counter, hopping down and disappearing into the crowd.
You make your way to him quickly, holding onto your rapidly rising chest and laughing at yourself. You were on a roll of unbelievable behavior, but it seemed to be a clean stroke because you were yet to meet a roadblock. And in a very blurry couple of minutes, the goal you’d been working toward was in the palm of your hand—literally.
You danced your way to Blade when you were finally close to him, sliding up against his body sweetly. He was tall and so sturdy against you, but he was smooth like butter as he synced to your movements and danced behind you. His hands were on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he pushed up against you. Your exchange was wordless but it spoke volumes. It felt like a dream, entirely too good to be true but you indulged anyway, grinding against him. A gasp escapes your mouth as his left hand unabashedly grapes your tit, squeezing roughly and experimentally. His other hand trails dangerously on the band of your shorts and you let your head fall back on his shoulder, “I'm your biggest fan…”
He laughs at your declaration, leaning to press his lips feather-lightly at the shell of your ear, “Are you now?” you nod immediately, pressing into him. “‘Blade owns me’.” he mocks your sign, and laughs when he feels you slightly tense under his touch.
“I picked you,” and again, he leans down to your ear, “Are you happy, slut?” The word is so mean but it sounds so good from him. You nearly moan, nodding eagerly, as if complying with his word came with a medal. You were a slut, so willing to give it up as soon as he laid eyes on you. And you weren’t afraid to go low to get his attention, doing just about anything to be his for the night.
Fangirls like you are nothing new to Blade and as a man who looks like he does, it comes with the territory. He can read you like a damn book, cover to cover with ease because despite how enigmatic and indifferent to the norm you may try to appear, you wear your whole being on your sleeve. You do everything in your power to be somebody you're not. Your life revolves around who you think you should be and not who you are. A lot of girls are born with “it”: an innate ability to be the one wanted and desired, but you? Your “it” is manufactured, the blueprint drawn out by girls who are it. You're stuck in a limbo created by your age: too old to not be settling down, but too young to not live your life, and you try to make a box for yourself, being the exception to a path laid out for you. You're lost in the life you lead, and with the way you're dancing so shamelessly and needily on him, Blade knows you. You’re the type of girl who sees getting used as a flex, and despite signing an NDA or promising to never say anything, you’ll tell this person and that person that you got to sleep with the Blade; that the Blade picked you. Women like you are a cancer in the industry. Pests that are incessant and damn near impossible to get rid of. He knows you won't be any different than those before you, but there’s a desire to take you that he cannot ignore.
It’s his natural instinct as a man—or he’s just a shitty person. Perhaps a combination of both, because all he can think about is putting you to use. You’re making it so easy, moaning into the air under the thick remixed song the DJ is spinning, grinding against him, and holding his hand on your tit—you want him, and you’re giving yourself to him on a silver platter. You have a clear lack of respect for yourself, but luckily for you, that’s Blade’s type in women.
The atmosphere seems to be getting heavier, and it feels like time is getting slow and choppy. Now your arms are around Blade’s neck and his large hands are holding onto your ass, and you’re so close, you can feel your chests brushing with each breath you take. The world around you is nothing but background. It doesn’t exist to you, it doesn't matter to you. Not when you have Blade, the literal man of your dreams, right in your palm, and all he's looking at is you.
You feel so special. So wanted and so desired. You feel all eyes on you like you're the main attraction and everybody can’t help but watch and weep, wishing to be you. Your ego is skyrocketed and every embarrassing thing you’ve done tonight doesn't matter to you anymore because it paid off. Your eyes locked and the space between you closed. Your heart synced with the booming beat of the current song playing. You lean in, pressing your hands at the back of his neck and pulling him in. And you kiss him. You kiss Blade.
Blade kisses you back. He tightens the grip on your ass and you moan into his mouth, letting him infiltrate your mouth. He sucks on your tongue, smiling against you when he feels you push up on your tippy toes and hears you whimper into his mouth. He kisses you back. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, pecking your lips once more before moving to your cheek, then to your jaw, then to your neck. His hands are groping at you, roughly grabbing your ass, then your waist, then your breasts. “Are you wet?”
He says it so only you can hear it. You nod. “How wet?” He moves back up to your jaw, placing another kiss. You flutter your lashes, meeting his gaze, “So wet. All for you.”
At your response, he groans, pulling off of you. He chuckles when you pout at him. You’re just what he needs for this night. He grabs your chin, holding your face and leaning down, your lips brushing against his own. “I'm going to go smoke.” and he tells you this for a reason.
You watch with the biggest smile on your face as he sifts through the crowd, heading out of a side door. It was now or never.
Quickly, you rush to the bathroom to freshen up. You fix your hair, digging into your pocket and fishing out your lipgloss, reapplying, and you fan yourself, cooling down to not look a flustered mess. And just as quick as you ran in, you ran out toward the side door, immediately looking both ways for Blade. You smell smoke distantly and turn right, and a few paces down he stood, leaning against the brick wall of the neighboring restaurant. He's next to stacks of old wood and crates and you smile, thinking about whatever was about to go down between you.
You step in front of him and he smiles, taking you in once again. He blows his smoke in your face, tapping the ash off the cigarette before smashing the butt into the wall behind him. “Hi,” you say. He says nothing back, just slides his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you in. The kiss you share this time is messy and he now asserts control, nipping your bottom lip when he feels you go weak and pulls back.
He rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand for him. This is the first time all night he’s seen you properly, in moderately okay lighting. Your jean mini-skirt is tight to you, accentuating the curve and fullness of your ass, and teases what’s beneath with your plump thighs poking out and how it rides up slightly. Your skin-tight baby tank is seemingly one with your figure, bringing out the best in you and making him smile with the “I ♡ BLADE” print across your chest. Your thigh-high boots did nothing when you were near him—he was looming and caging. He was intimidating and arousing, and with the lustful gaze you shared, the climax of your day was steadily approaching.
“Take it off.” He looks down at your chest and you get the memo; immediately grabbing the hem of your tank top and pulling it over your head. “Slow. Take your time…” And you listen, letting your body swivel as you remove the shirt. You unhook the clasp of your bra, and before your boobs could spill out of the confines, he grabs you and wedged you between him and the wall he previously leaned on.
The front of your body is slapped on the cold brick, but you’re swallowed in warmth as he presses against you, grinding his hard-on against your ass. One hand grabs your wrists, and the other turns you around. You look at him innocently, shivering at the breeze that blows down the alley. You can smell him: woody, smokey, and expensive. Yet here he was, pressing you up against a brick wall in a random alley. “You’re such an easy slut, y’know.”
“Bet you been thinking about this; daydreaming about your favorite artist pinning you and trashing you like the fucking whore you are.” he presses against your front, nipping at your jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
You whimper, “Fuck me. Take me. Make me yours.”
“Tell me.” He growls - your answer not sufficing. “Want you to break me,”
“Always fantasized…wanting you to shove your dick down my throat and use it mindlessly and mercilessly.” He begins to kiss down your throat again, licking the tender skin. He smirks when you stop talking, your breath hitching and your head craning backward to open the expanse of your neck. He starts biting on your newfound sweet spot when you begin again, “Spit in my mouth and force me to swallow it with your cum,”
He gets to your chest, immediately taking a nipple between his teeth. He listens to you wince and whine as he does, pushing your chest into his face. “And make me beg you to fuck me. Teasing me…fuck—pinching me, pulling my hair until I'm teary-eyed and begging…”
“...And then you fuck me like you hate me; choking me, slapping me, degrading me all while I thank you stupidly.”
“You’re just fucking disgusting,” he mumbles around your nipple. He lets your hands go, palming your free tit immediately. His eyes are narrow as you whine when he twinges the bud roughly. “Put so much thought into this…you’re a weirdo slut.”
You shake your head, breathing out heavily to refute his claim, “Nuh-uh—your biggest fan.” you correct.
He laughs at you. You’re much more fun than he thought, and a lot less shameless, too. You're throwing all of your big cards out; this is your go-big or go-home moment, and while you have him here, you’ll bare yourself wholly because if not now, then not ever. Blade has to commend your patience though. You're letting him toy around, graze around your unknown territory and feel you out. You’re needy but obedient. Tired of waiting but understanding. Absolutely fucking shameful and proud, but eager to be good—so maybe he was wrong about you. You do have an “it”: an innate ability to be the perfect fucktoy.
When he lets you go, he immediately instructs you to get on your knees. And you listen immediately. The cold gravel digs into your bare knees and it's incredibly uncomfortable, yet you don’t utter a word. Your nipples are hard and pebbled and are probably so sensitive, yet you say nothing. You only sit before him, fingers dancing on the exposed thigh as you look up at him, waiting to be put to use.
So he slaps you. As you told him to—he slaps you, and his hand is heavy coming against your skin. It sounds off for what felt like possibly hundreds of miles, and your face doesn’t sting, but it hurts. The skin is heating up from the impact and your head turns to the side, hair falling against your face, yet you don’t utter a word. He grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him and dangerously smiling when your teary eyes look up at him wide and thankfully. “Pull my cock out,” he instructs, letting you go and standing up straight.
You get to work on his belt, undoing it swiftly, and then you unbutton his pants. You tease yourself: slowly pulling the zipper down, and when pulling his pants down to his ankles, you palm him softly, gently patting his throbbing cock and staring at the growing wet spot in his underwear. You kiss the wet spot, and then you kiss it again, and again until you suck lightly on it while making eye contact with him. You moan at the very faint taste, fluttering your eyes shut, and finally sliding your hand under the band of his underwear, holding his dick.
Blade hisses at your touch, bucking slightly into your hold at the initial contact. Usually, he’d curse you out at this point for going so slow, but he’s letting it slide this time; allowing you to take control and show him how worth it and nasty you really are.
He’s big. He’s thick—your hand can just barely wrap around the entire shaft, and as you lift him to unsheath him from his boxers, you feel how heavy he is. And hard. So fucking hard.
You gawk at his cock like a kid in a candy store, staring at his leaking slit intensely—almost as if you're waiting. “Go ahead; show me how big of a fan you are.”
You kiss his tip, the bead of precum smearing on your lips. Smacking your lips apart suggestively, you wrap your right hand around the base, applying tightness and pressure as you find the right grip, and when you do, you finally lick a clean stripe across the head. Your tongue sweeps up the new milky droplet spilling out, and you contently hum at the taste, making him groan in response. You lick from the angry tip all the way to his trimmed base, then back up again until you’ve teased every side of him and located his sensitive vein.
If anybody would have told you that all you dreamed about would be coming to fruition—all by mere luck and chance—you wouldn’t believe it. And you still don't; even as you spit a thick bead of your saliva on his cock and then massage it in with your tongue, swirling all around the sensitive head. But it’s real because he moans out for you as you finally take him in, the throb getting heavier as he sits on your tongue and your lips hug him tight.
You begin your ministrations: toying with his balls lightly as you bob up and down, going as far as you could. You tried your best to take him all in. You stretched your mouth wide around him until it felt like your mouth was going to rip at the corners and until it felt like all you could do was sputter and leak drool around him. Tears brimmed in your eyes and each time you blinked them back, keeping a pretty smile on your face every time you came up for air. Your lipgloss was mixed in with spit, and clear tear streaks had already begun to run their course with your base makeup, but you didn't stop. You were moaning incessantly, suffocating his dick in your intense vibrations that had him moaning and grunting.
When you come up from your nth deepthroat attempt, it's not for air, but to breathlessly huff out “Fuck my face…please,” And since you asked so nicely…
“Blink twice if it gets to be too much.” You open your mouth as wide as you could, sticking your tongue out. He pulls your hair back for you, yanking your head back and spitting on your tongue. His eyes tell you not to move, so you don’t, keeping eye contact with him as he wraps his other hand around your own, guiding your smaller hands up and down his shaft. He shudders, “F-fuck…’m so fuckin’ hard…”
And then he slides onto your tongue, not wasting any time before bottoming out in your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise, and your unprepared gags speak volumes to your shock. But that doesn't deter you from wrapping your lips around him. And from there, he pulls out, pulling your head back and then pushing you back down as he thrusts his hips forward. He curses under his breath before picking up his pace, thrusting so hard that his grip tightens on your hair to hold you properly in place, fucking roughly into your face. You can only choke and sputter, having already taken your hands from around his dick and digging crescent nail shapes into his thighs. The sounds eliciting from the two of you are so nasty and filthy. His balls slap at your chin, your voice rings out from around his girth, and his moans echo around the world. You can’t take it but you’re doing a great job of trying. He slaps your face again, pulling out and hitting his tip on your tongue. “Keep your fucking eyes on me,”
“If you can do that, I'll cum all down your throat and all over your pretty fucking face, okay?” You nod eagerly, and as an incredibly degrading action of praise and acceptance, he slaps his spit-slicked dick against your cheek a few times. “Good girl.” Butterflies swarm in your stomach at his praise.
When Blade slides in, he smacks against your face. He goes to the very hilt, pushing his way to the depths of your throat roughly. Your nose is pressed up against his pelvis, and your cheeks are catching stray tears. But this is consistent as he begins thrusting, using you per your request. He grunts out each time his tip hits the back of your throat, thrusting so roughly and meanly into you. Again, you feel like all you can do is choke and gag, spilling slobber and precum mix back down his length. It’s fucking filthy and the loud squelching and impact noises hit your ears nastily, yet you can’t help but squirm and attempt to grind for friction to subdue the need throbbing in your clit.
Above you, the man is falling apart. His hips stutter every now and then and his voice is fucking endless. His long hair sticks to his sweaty forehead and sides of his neck, and it looks damn near intentionally placed from how beautiful he looks. The outdoor lights are like distant illuminators; glowing behind him softly—almost angelically. His eyebrows are knitted together and he struggles to keep his eyes every time he reaches the back of your throat and you start gagging. It’s beyond pleasurable. Blade isn't sure if it’s because of all the tension the two of you have built up, or if it's because he hasn't had any action in the last 3 weeks because of his neverending schedule, or if it’s because your mouth is fucking amazing, but he can't keep himself together. His chest starts heaving faster as he comes close to his high, his knees beginning to buckle, and his stomach caving.
You flick your tongue on the underside of his cock as much as you can and glue your eyes to his, seeing his release breaking him down inch by inch. “Fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum!” He announces, throwing his head back.
He stills in your mouth and you take the opportunity to suck harshly on his tip, swirling your tongue around it like it’s the sweetest lolly you’ve ever tasted. He pulls out of your mouth, and you vigorously stroke his cock, so focused and determined to milk him dry. He leans forward, slapping his palm against the wall behind you for stability as he cums. He moans so prettily as he paints your face, the warm ropes making you hum contently. You give him no break, sucking his tip one last time to make sure you get the most out of what he’s given you.
Blade catches his breath, standing up straight soon after and condescendingly cooing at the mess made on your face. He picks up a glob as he sweeps his thumb over your cheek, sliding the digit in your mouth. He presses on your tongue, finding pleasure in how you swallow your sounds under a layer of gagging, but how you never tear your eyes off of him. He does this until you’ve cleaned off your face—but he's not done with you.
You're finally allowed off of your aching knees. You're sure the gravel will leave an indent from how long you were down there. He pinches your pebbled nipples, smirking as you yelp. “What was it that was next? Making you beg..making you earn my cock in you?” you nod rapidly, backing into the wall for stability as he toys with your very sensitive tits. “Show me how you beg then.”
You put your hands on his shoulders to help you stand up, feeling so weak all of a sudden. Your voice cracks as you try to speak, meek little whimpers flowing out as he works your body expertly—like he knows what gets you going. “Please…fuck–Please fuck me, I need you so bad…!”
A shrill yelp is chased out of your throat when his palm cracks against one of your boobs, “Is that all you got? Try again.”
So you do. “Need you to fuck me, Blade. I wanna be used by you, broken–please, I'll do anything!”
“Not good enough. Again.”
“Please fuck me like the slut I am! I need to be full of you, need to have you fuck me ragged and dumb so all I think of is you!” you pitch up your voice, breathing it all out in one breath.
Pitiful. Another smack. “Again.”
“I'm so needy for you, please! It hurts–I need you so much, it hurts! Please…”
And he's heard enough. His right hand slides up to your neck, forcing you against the wall. His grip is tight, fingers pressing into the sides and you have to fight for your eyes to not roll to the back of your head. “You must not want me as bad as you acted like you did…”
“I do! I do!” You interject, but your voice is weak and small—nothing in comparison to his deep and lust-saturated tone. “Then act like you do. Beg.”
He runs his other hand up your thigh, cupping your cunt. Your panties are soaked, and he can feel the heat radiating off of you. He pushes the fabric to the side, running two fingers through your folds and you swear you almost fell out then and there. You'd gone teased and untouched all night—you were beyond ready.
“Pussy is fucking soaked…” he mumbles, letting his index and middle finger twirl through your folds, getting closer and closer to your clit. “You want me here? To fuck your sloppy pussy until you're cumming your brains out?”
Your eyes start to roll and he can feel the pulse intensify in your cunt. That's exactly what you wanted. “Say it. Say ‘I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade’. Say it,”
You part your lips, and he slightly loosens the grip on your throat, “Wan–want…I want my sloppy pussy…” You get shy with your words, and he delivers a slap to your clit. The stimulation has you buckling over. You feel like his hands on you are going to be the death of you. “Say it.”
With the courage finally built up, “I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade! Please, I need it s’bad…feel like I'm gonna fucking die!” leaves your lips easily like spreading butter on toast. His lips that you never got enough of tasting quirk up into his signature smirk. He lets you go, pushing you against the wooden crates and flipping up your jean skirt.
“There you go; atta-fucking-girl.” he practically rips your panties off of you, slapping your pussy just for the hell of it. He cringes at the sound it makes and laughs cruelly at your whimpering. He presses up against you, his semi-hard dick pressed against your ass, and he wraps his arm around you and shows you the coat of your arousal that paints his fingers. “Spit.”
With your spit and abundance of slick collected on his fingers, Blade strokes his cock, going until he’s near painfully hard. The sounds he elicits make your pussy clench around nothing, needing to be satiated so desperately. “Are you ready? There’s no going back.”
This is somehow the sweetest moment for you. Your heart swells and you can only sheepishly nod, wiggling your hips eagerly. “Never been more sure about anything in my life. Ruin me.”
Ask once more, and you shall receive once more. His cock is swiped through your folds and collects a considerable amount of your arousal. He lines up at your entrance, watching you brace yourself with a smile ingrained into his face. He pushes in with a sharp inhale, biting his tongue at the feel of your tightness. Your pussy sucks him right in and—fuck. Warm and soft and tight, he could cum right now.
Your face crinkles up and you grip tightly onto the wooden crates in front of you. You’ve dreamt of this for so long—touched yourself at night to the thought and it's finally happening. He's inside of you, stretching you out, sinking in and in and in, inch by inch until he buries himself deep in your guts, until his tight and heavy balls are touching your folds. You're so sensitive you feel like you're ready to cream already, and you need it, need him, and need more. You grind your hips back on him, exhaling thickly as you rest your head against your forearm. “So fucking ready for me…”
His hand cracks down on your ass. It hurts so well and you wince, arching your back further. He sighs, kneading your skin softly. Then he pulls out, inching out until only the tip sits idly in you. You turn around to look at him, and doing that ignites his fire.
Your face is pathetic and fucked out already. Eyebrows knitted together and your eyes heavy, hardly staying open. Your lips are parted yet folded into a small frown, and perspiration rests at your hairline. You egg him on to slam into you, and he watches your frown drop into a wide ‘o’ shape, your eyes fluttering. So he does it again. And your lip now slips between your teeth. And again. And you drop your head back onto your arms.
And so Blade keeps up this pace, gradually going faster as the pit in his stomach urges him to do so. Your sounds are now uncontrollable—they fly out of you like a skipping record, incoherent babbles, and sinful moans. Each collision of your bodies elicits a visceral, wet slap that echoes off the walls of the alleyway. People around the world could probably hear what you're doing, and you're not sure if that bothers you…if the thought of a curious passerby walking down this alley naïvely would be an issue. If anything, it makes you get louder, your throat not getting to rest.
He hits you again, groaning when your pussy clenches around him. “You’re so fucking loud– you want somebody to find us?” Yes, that is what you want to say. But you moan out louder, shaking your head no. He hits you again. “Don’t lie to me,”
“You’re a fucking painslut,” he spits at you. He wraps his arm to reach your clit, immediately finding the bud and pinching it. Your knees go weak and he stabilizes you against him by pushing you further into the crates in front of you. You sniffle and whimper, presumably spilling tears down your filthy fucking face but doing nothing but asking for more. You've gotten so wet, dripping everywhere messily and Blade only cringes his face up with each wet collision. You're so nasty, so filthy, letting a stranger who you parasocial bonded yourself to defile you in public. He's feeding into your crazed delusions, but he’d honestly rather be doing nothing else. When he pinches your clit again your body shakes. Your knees buckle again and from the waist up you're basically limp. He feels you tighten around him and he sucks his teeth, parting your ass to peer at the milky ring forming around the base of his cock. “Did you just fucking cum?” Yes, you did. And you felt like Heaven doing it.
“You came ‘cause I pinched your clit…” he does it again and you jolt up, whining for him to stop. “So if I slap it…” he slaps it, eyeing you for your reaction. “Or rub on it like I love you…” his fingers run circles on your bud, feeling you get impossibly tighter around him. “So fucking easy.”
He resumes his thrusts like he never stopped—slamming into you unapologetically and now additionally, rubbing on your cute, abused clit. He's not going to last long at this rate. Your pussy gushes around him like a running river and the noises have gotten even nastier. Squelching and the occasional puffs of air escaping…you’re a mess.
“Love this fucking cunt,” he praises while pinching your clit. His free hand that rested on the small of your back is now holding onto your neck, forcing you to stand upright against him. Blade is lean but muscular. His arms flex and you feel his abs every time your bodies get close enough. His strong thighs touch yours and it's like you feel his entire body weight every time he pushes into you. “So good, ‘s so fucking good, Blade!”
The man laughs at your outburst. He angles his hips differently, trying so hard to find your sweet spot to get you creaming again. “Yeah?” he asks, tightening his grip on your throat. “Mhm-!” you concur.
“Where?” He’s sure he's found it, and he drives his hips up, groaning happily once he feels your gummy walls contract around him. “Here?”
Your head nods rapidly. “Yes, yes, yes–fuck! Right there, oh my fucking God!”
Neither of you are going to last. Blade’s balls are so tight and the way your pussy hugs him is even tighter. You suck him in like you never want him to leave, but your over-stimulated squeals and shaking thighs suggest otherwise. He’s found your sweet spot and is recklessly abusing it, going all or nothing. The way he toyed with your clit like a kitten pawing at a toy was too much—it started to hurt, to throb endlessly as your stomach knotted and your hole drooled. His grip on your neck was the icing on the cake. You felt like you could no longer breathe — like his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you and him choking you was keeping it out. Every little thing he did pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
He was even more merciless than before. Blade fucked into you harder, rougher, and faster than before, and you chalked that up to his orgasm catching up to him. You listen to his songs on repeat all the time but never have you heard him sing more beautifully than now as he digs your pussy out. You were really blessed with this night, and now it is coming to a very eventful end.
“‘M gonna fucking cum–!” You announce, and Blade nods his head in agreement. He slaps your cunt one last time, his fingers covered in your juices now tweaking at one of your nipples. “Me…me too, fuck.”
He leans into your ear, “Make me cum in this fucking pussy,” a throaty moan breaks his sentence, and you moan back, feeling it coming. “So close, so close…!”
It's this contraction that has Blade falling apart. He thrusts into you one last time, his eyes shooting wide open as he cums deep in you. He moans gutturally and shakily, feeling you clench tighter as you orgasm as well. His hips stutter in you and your hips ride back onto him as you both come down from your highs. The alley is now deafeningly silent and you flush in embarrassment from how loud you must have been. He lets your neck and tit go, using one hand to now spread your ass and pull out his cock. Your pussy is puffy and shiny, and when he’s out, he watches with a burning gaze as your mixture of cum starts to slightly spill out.
He groans, slapping your ass one last time. You two finally separate, and you turn around to look at him. You're sure he doesn't look as fucked up as you do, but even so disheveled and fucked out and sweaty as he is, you can’t help but feel your heart flutter. He pulls up his boxers and pants, fixing his shirt before he looks over at your mostly naked frame. He comes over to you, pulling down your skirt, and his doing this makes you feel less like a one-night stand, and more like one of his girls.
Being so close to you, he breathes you in. You smell like sex, but beneath that is a layer of whatever fruity perfume you sprayed on you, and it's delectable; so he kisses you. It's something he doesn't usually do, and he wouldn't have done it for you, but you entrance him. Perhaps it's because you're what he likes— he's met his match.
But you kiss each other passionately like you were trying to reignite the flame you just spent God knows how long fucking out. Your tongues are well acquainted with one another, swirling and bumping and riding past one another knowingly. He pulls away from you, looking in your eyes as he lets spit fall onto your tongue once again. You smile happily as you swallow it—God, you could do this forever. “Come back with me,”
You didn't expect him to say that. You blink your eyes a few times in disbelief. This night can't be any more unreal. He notices your confusion and smiles, “Is that a no–”
“–No! I'll come with you!” you don't know where he’s taking you, or what it means to go with him. You do know that you’ll have a lot to tell Yukong, NDA or not, and that you’ll never forget this day.
Smiling again, this time devilishly, Blade pulls away from you, pinching your cheek. “Good girl.”
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angelshimaa · 7 months
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━━ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 ;; 𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒
⤷ feat. bakugou and kirishima <3
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✧ cw :: gn!reader, qualifies as fluff, eijirou calls reader 'pretty' as a petname bc i say he does, reader calls kirishima 'eiji'
✧ a/n :: based off this !! tbh i wrote this so quickly, but i wrote it and that's that !!
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katsuki's footsteps match yours as you walk side by side while he listens to you. you're musing about something; it could be anything and everything under the sun and he holds onto your every word, trying to look at you while keeping his focus on the bustle of the city roads.
as much as he wants to keep listening, the speeding of cars right next to you (a little exaggeration) has a drop of unease causing him the slightest discomfort.
it's quick and smooth, the way he tugs gently onto your sleeve and pulls you to the other side of him. a little startled, you let out an 'oh!' and turn your face to look at him.
"i don't trust your dumbass to not stumble into the road."
red eyes look ahead but you know he's aware of the way you look at him, a smile playing on your lips.
"such a gentleman, katsuki—"
he snorts. "shut it. now, go on."
only katsuki tells you to shut up and continue talking in the same breath. with a small chuckle, you pick up where you left off, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you replay your boyfriend's motions in your head.
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you step out of the store with eijirou following right behind you, carrying the new clothes he 'helped' you pick out.
"all you did was react the same to every item of clothing, eiji!" your head is turned back to look at him, and as you walk out into the street you watch him laugh lightly, oh so beautifully.
"not my fault you look gorgeous in everything, pretty— woah there!"
now alert, your eyes don't leave eijirou as his steps quicken a little, closing whatever gap lay between the two of you. his hand guides you to the side after he places it against the small of your back, and you find that he's put himself in between you and the busy road you weren't paying attention to.
"there we go! gotta keep my pretty outta the way of danger." his sharp teeth flash at you in a proud grin.
"such a manly man you are, eiji," you play along and somehow his grin grows brighter.
he reaches for and grasps the bag of clothing you hold, passes it to the hand farthest from you and reaches for your free hand.
his fingers interlock with yours and you can't help but smile at how cute he is.
"always for you, pretty."
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✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
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catcze · 6 months
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Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
[ #Taglist registration here !! ]
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"You cold?" Wriothesley asks.
"No," you try to tell him over the sound of your teeth chattering. Your arms are hugged close to your body, your posture rigid. Every single cell in your body is screaming at you to leave this stupid ass mountain— you never have been very good with dealing with the cold, and you doubt you ever will be.
Beside you, Wriothesley just sighs and stuffs his hands into his pants pockets. Unlike you, the bastard was a cryo vision holder. He got a pass when it came to having to deal with freezing temperatures.
"I did tell you to bring more layers when we left, sweetheart," he chides you, and you growl.
"I didn't think it would be this cold!"
"Ah," he says, waving a finger in the air victoriously. He grins. "So you're admitting that you are cold."
Your jaw drops— your boyfriend can be such a little shit sometimes, as much as you love him. You stick your tongue out at him and, out of sheer spite, you head forward, sheer cold momentarily forgotten as you try to search for those starsilver ores the traveller had asked of you. You just want to get off this mountain, go home, and take a long, long nap in your warm bed. Ideally with your boyfriend cuddling you back to normal temperature.
You hear the approaching stomp of Wriothesley's large boots behind you, crushing snow underfoot, but pay him no mind. Then he steps up close behind you, holding out his coat.
"Arms up," he says. You frown.
"Wrio—" he could get cold himself, you want to say, but he cuts you off by shaking the coat in his hands.
"Arms up." And he won't take no for an answer. So you keep silent this time, holding your arms out and letting him slipi his coat onto you. As soon as the extra layer is on you, you feel just the slightest bit better. Still cold, still wet, but... better.
"You didn't have to, you know," you say, turning to face him. You say that, but you can't deny how you nestle into the collar, trying to warm your face. Wriothesley doesn't miss it either, and he smiles. One corner of his lip pulling higher than the other.
"Cryo vision, sweetie. 'M not gonna freeze before you," he says. "Besides, the sooner we get home the sooner we can warm up with a cup of tea. That sound good to you?"
Wriothesley takes your hand and weaves your fingers together, pulling you along the trail. He squeezes your fingers and you squeeze back.
Feeling much warmer now (and not just because of the coat) you nod, and trot along after him. "Yeah. Sounds good, Wrio."
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cntloup · 2 months
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Being there for him when an old wound flares up :'(
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"Good morning, Si!" you greet as you step into the kitchen.
He stands in front of the counter, pouring some tea in his mug with slightly trembling hands.
"G'morning, love." he says back through gritted teeth followed by a shaky sigh.
"Si, you ok?" you ask, your eyebrows furrowed in concern as you walk up to him and gently put your hand on his shoulder, tilting your head to look at him.
His head hangs low, his hand comes up and rests below his rib.
He squeezes his eyes shut and grabs the edge of the counter, wincing as another wave of pain hits.
"Is it flaring up again?" you ask, "I'm fine. It's nothin'." he replies, stifling a groan.
"Si, please. Come here. Sit down, honey." you beckon softly, holding his hand and leading him towards the chair.
He sits down slowly, not being able to hold back anymore as he winces and groans loudly.
"Oh my god, Si!" you gasp, reaching your hands forward to help him,
"It’s ok. Don't worry." he reassures you as he finally sits down with your help.
You feel a tingle behind your eyes and soon, tears start to fall, "What can I do, Si?" you ask, feeling helpless.
"C'mere, lovie." he grabs your waist and sits you on his lap, your body resting on his uninjured side, your head on his shoulder.
"How can I help?" you ask again, desperate to soothe him and take away his pain.
"Just stay here in my arms, yeah?" he responds softly as he nuzzles your back.
"Ok." you mumble, voice muffled against his shoulder as you shed silent tears.
"I'm fine, lovie. Don't worry. It will pass soon." he says, trying to reassure you, pain still evident in his voice.
You let out a sob and cup his face in your hands, kissing him with all the love you feel for him.
"I'm so sorry, Si. I don't know what to do." you hiccup and he caresses your cheek, gently wiping your tears away with his thumb.
"You're doin' plenty right now, dove. Just bein' here with me is enough... I love you." he murmurs as he kisses you again.
"I love you too, Si." you whisper back, laying your head on his shoulder as he tightens his arms around you.
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 
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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months
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What about Graves with a breeding kink or if reader is pregnant? I know you don't rlly write for him a lot, but I love when you do.
Idk if you'll feel like answering this, but ily and ur fics regardless 🫶
Graves w/ a Breeding Kink
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Warnings: 18+, Smut, Breeding Kink, Possessive Graves, Housewifery, Pet Names,Profanity,  Fem! Reader.
He lusts for the American dream; the very foundations upon which he continues his existence. To have – to create – a family. And he can think of nobody better to achieve that dream with than you.
He’s on top of you, arms either side of your head, gasping, panting, bent over you and exerting every inch of himself as if you were crafted of some divine substance with tools far beyond human comprehension.
He’s been at it for hours now. You see it in the way his hair sticks together, slicked with sweat as it drips down his face, hear it in the thick, wet sound of his cock slipping back into you with every thrust of his hips, feel it in the growing ache in your abdomen as he fills you again, letting out a strangled, short-breathed moan as your body squeezes around him. He doesn’t let up, though.
He pushes through, gripping you by your hips and pulling you closer onto him. You gasp, back arching as he hits a spot deeper within you. An area he’d been abusing all night, 
“B’such a good little mommy for me,” he whispers into your hair, just above your ear. He presses a lopsided kiss there, lip wet from the many times he’s drawn it into his mouth with his teeth.
“Y’want that, Sweetness?” he pants, looking into your eyes with his half-lidded pair. “Want me to–” – he grunts – “want me t’make you mine from the inside out?”
You can’t get the words out fast enough; garbled and twisted, they come out tangled and in knots, as if tripping over each other to reach a unified ‘yes’. With the little energy you have left, you nod with all the enthusiasm your half-gone mind can conjure. Graves smiles, giving a brief, airy laugh. “Knew I’d made the right choice pickin’ you. Knew you’d make a good housewife for me someday,”
You clench. Graves gasps. He brings warm lips to yours as if to press his love there, as if you are to now impart upon him that which he has longed for for years unnumbered; a family.
He angles deeper, presses his throbbing, pulsating instrument into the most inconspicuous part of you that has you arching your back and letting out an almost-scream. Your knees press into the sides of Graves’ waist, tightening around him just as your cunt did. He yells, uses every ounce of his strength to not collapse on top of you, the tip of his nose against yours. Something in him tightens, snaps, and he floods you for the umpteenth time, pressing himself deeper, making sure his seed takes.
Not that you can see for your eyes being screwed shut, but Graves gazes upon you as you bask in the afterglow of his labour, feeling a smile creeping up onto his cheeks as he takes in your every feature. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s seen them, in one form or another, he never stops being fascinated – enamoured – by them. By you.
When you come down, come to, you give Phillip a smile he knows all too well – one that preludes your telling him you’re ready for bed. He all but pounces on you as you turn onto your side, taking you by the wrists and pressing them into the pillow beneath you. A dark glimmer passes through his eye, and he gives you a hazy, slithering smirk, followed by his southern drawl.
“Oh no, Princess,” he says, taking your chin between his fingers.
“We’re not done ‘til I say we’re done.”
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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verstappen-cult · 9 days
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WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, LESTAPPEN.
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PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader x charles leclerc.
SUMMARY — It's the day after the race in Las Vegas and Max and Charles wake up with a huge headache, two rings in their fingers and no idea of what happened the night before.
GWEN'S MESSAGE. this was requested by @piastrification! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i had so much fun writing it! and i hope you like it. as always comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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Max wakes up with an awful headache and very thirsty. He tries to adjust his vision to the sunlight but every time he tries to open his eyes, there’s a shooting pain in his temple. 
He groans, rolling around in bed. Next to him is Charles still sleeping on his belly, messy hair and something like confetti around him. 
Max can’t remember anything from last night. Well, he remembers going out with Charles, Lando, Daniel and Pierre and then a lot of shots and dancing and people shouting their names and then… nothing. 
“Fuck this.” He whispers and gets out of bed very slowly, feeling dizzy. 
He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and have a big glass of water before he passes out from dehydration. 
Max is filling a second glass when he sees it; a silver ring around his left ring finger. 
He does not wear rings. 
“Max?” Charles calls his name and Max walks back into the room with his heart hammering in his ears. 
“Did you give me this ring last night?” He asks even before Charles has time to properly wake up. 
“Uh?” The Monégasque says, sitting on the bed and looking confused at the hand Max has up in the air, showing him the piece of jewelry. “No?” Charles rubs his face with his left hand but stops halfway when he feels something on his ring finger. “What the fuck?” 
There is a silver ring, just like the one Max has, on his finger.
And that is not one of his rings because this has three little diamonds encrusted in it. 
“Max,” Charles breathes, a shiver running down his spine as he looks at his boyfriend. “What happened last night?
They look at each other with wide eyes, a million thoughts running through their heads. 
“I remember leaving the club with the boys and then everything goes black.” Charles gets out of bed to look for his phone because there must be something in there, but all he finds are five missed calls from Pierre and a lot, a lot, of messages from you on the group chat. 
“What’s wrong?” Max asks as he walks away to fill a glass of water for Charles. 
“Y/N is here,” He answers, showing him the phone and thanking him for the water with a kiss on the cheek. “She’s downstairs waiting for us with Lando.”
Max groans, falling back onto the bed. 
“I feel like we did something really stupid last night.”
“Shut up, we didn’t do anything.” Charles busies himself with looking for clothes in his suitcase, so he doesn’t have to think about last night. 
They should forget about last night. Last night didn’t happen. 
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By the time they made it to the lobby, Max and Charles had agreed that they needed to talk to Lando before talking to you about the shit show that was last night. 
They may not know exactly what happened, but by the matching rings they know it’s nothing good.
However, they forget about it when they see you standing next to Lando wearing the most beautiful floral dress and your perfect smile. 
“Hey, sweetheart.” Max says, taking off his sunglasses for a second to give you a peck on the lips. Then, he’s putting them back on. 
“How’s the hangover?” You tease them, feeling Charles' body tensing next to you. And you really want to laugh because you know exactly what happened thanks to Lando and a very detailed story. “What did you do last night?”
“Nothing,” Charles is quick to answer, looking at Lando and silently begging him to do something. But Lando just laughs. “Lando, can we talk for a second?”
“What do you need to talk to him about?” 
“Oh, just about something Dani asked us to do before he left last night.” Max lies and if it weren’t because you’re in a good mood and know why they are lying, you would feel angry. 
“Oh, but Dani’s right there.” You point behind his backs and they immediately turn around to find the Australian man talking on the phone. When he sees them, a big smile spreads over his face, giving thumbs up before going back to his conversation. 
“Now, why are you lying to me?” You bite your lip, trying to keep up with the show. “Did you do something I should know about?”
And then, they say at the same time:
“I swear we didn’t do anything, we went to sleep early!”
“We don’t remember what we did last night, okay?!”
Lando bursts out laughing, even bending down as he tries to breathe properly, which draws the attention of a few people around that slowly start to recognize them.
“Well, I guess I’m not needed here since you keep lying to my face.” You pretend to be hurt and it's not easy when all you want to do is laugh in their faces.
Max and Charles start talking over each other, trying to make you understand what is actually happening. 
“And then we woke up this morning with these!” Charles takes Max hand in his, showing their rings. “I swear to god we don’t know what happened.”
“We were so drunk.” Max looks at his feet, feeling embarrassed. He never drinks that much, but apparently last night was a special occasion. 
“Oh, but I know.”
They look at you, expectantly, surprised, confused, a mix of emotions on their faces. 
You take out your phone, looking for something before turning the device around so they are able to see the screen. 
“You got married.”
There on the screen is a picture of Max and Charles with an Elvis impersonator between them, holding his left hands up in the air showing their rings while Charles is holding up his phone with a picture of you, a drunken smile on both of their faces. 
You slide your finger to the left, and a video starts playing. 
You can hear Lando laughing while recording. “What are you doing?” He asks, walking closer to Charles who is looking down at the picture of you on his phone. 
“Baby, we got married!” He exclaims as Max wraps an arm around his waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “She doesn’t answer. Why isn’t she answering… Are you mad, baby?”
Dani appears on the video, laughing his ass off as he takes the phone away. 
“You’re not on facetime, you idiot. It's a picture.” Pierre says from somewhere next to Lando, probably.
“Say hi to Y/N!” 
“Hi baby!” Charles really likes to call you baby when he’s drunk. 
“We got married!” Max says a little too loud, but doesn’t care and kisses Charles cheek. “Look, we have your ring right here.” He shows a silver ring similar to the one they have, the difference is that the diamond in the middle is slightly bigger. “Congratulations!”
The video ends with all of them laughing. 
There’s a minute of silence before Charles speaks. 
“Okay, it wasn’t that bad.”
“What!?” Max looks mortified. 
“Well, everyone knows that weddings in Las Vegas aren’t actually weddings.” Everyone looks at him at a loss of words, but he just keeps going. “We aren’t actually married.”
“Charles,” Lando laughs a little more. He’s definitely having the time of his life. “weddings in Vegas are very real. You are married.”
“No we’re not!” 
Max sighs, placing a hand on his boyfriend — husband’s shoulder. “Charlie, we are.” 
Charles gaps, immediately looking at you. “I’m so sorry! We didn’t know!” 
You can’t help it anymore, so you laugh. 
“Oh my god, you should see your faces!”
Max and Charles look at each other, and then at you. They don’t have a clue about what is happening anymore. Not since last night. 
“You’re not… mad?” 
“Well,” You wipe the tears from your eyes, shoving your phone back in your purse. “I was at first, now i just find it hilarious.” 
“I’m so sorry, schat.” Max runs his hand through his hair, looking sheepishly at you with a pout on his pretty lips. 
“It is your fault!” Charles says out of nowhere, pointing a finger in Lando’s face. “Why didn’t you stop us?”
Lando raises his hands in surrender. “I tried!” 
“You should’ve tried harder!”
“Max promised to let me win if I let you get married!” 
“Max!” Charles says, offended. 
“I won’t do that.”
You shake your head, patting Max’s cheek lightly, condescendingly. “You will if you want me to forgive you.”
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