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#just let somebody hug you please
ibeewashere · 1 year
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I would like. to pretty please have a chat. just a little silly little talk with whoever thought of everlight Brad so that I can just give them a quick little kiss. just a quick little smooch on the forehead. yk??
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luveline · 5 months
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I would dieeee for some more of Spencer and bombshell after her getting injured😭 him taking such good care of her, the BEST doctors, researching every single option😭 reassuring her rhats shes just as pretty😭
—Spencer looks after you while you recover from a brutal injury. fem!reader, 1.1k
Spencer thinks it’s one of the team's more gruesome injuries. Hotch has been stabbed to mince meat and Emily half-killed, Elle got shot, and he’s had his fair share of violence, too, but he can’t imagine the horror of being hit in the face with a hammer. The pain so close to your eyes, your teeth, your brain, the fear and the sudden crack. He feels sick whenever he remembers the sound, and he was sick the first time he dreamt about the way you cried as it happened. Your strange yelp, the immediate drop to the floor. 
Spencer never hit somebody as hard as he did that UnSub. His gun whipped out possessed across the UnSub’s face, and then drove forward into their nose with a stomach turning crunch. 
They’re in custody, and you’re in bed recovering with some of the best doctors in the world. Spencer thinks you both won this round, even if it doesn’t feel like a win right now. 
“Shh,” he whispers, “shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, don’t cry.” 
You cling to his chest as though worried he’s going to move out of reach, sobbing. You’re careful not to touch your face or his chest, the soreness too much, but the rest of you is clinging to him. You don’t have to worry, he’s not going anywhere. 
“Please, it’s okay,” he says, the tip of his nose to your forehead. “You can have another dose in twenty minutes. Just twenty minutes.” 
He supposes the pain reminds you of the full extent of the injury, your jaw fractured in two places, your gum traumatised, your face more bruise than anything else. You hate your appearance being out of your control, it’s making you panic —he can feel you shaking.
He’d sat down with your drink to find you already crying, he couldn’t have been gone for ten minutes, but it was long enough for you to fall deep into the throes of hysteria. You’d grappled for him as he sat down to hug you, your face hidden ever since, and now the shakes have started. He’s hopeless. 
But Spencer’s willing to do anything to make it better. “Can you tell me what’s upsetting you? Please?” he asks.
“It’s–” Harder sobbing, your tears dripping down from your chin to wet the thigh of his pants.
He has to calm you down.
Since you met Spencer, you’ve been the comforter. He can’t count how many times something has hurt him and you’ve rushed to save him. You’ve hugged and held and kissed him into smiling, you’ve never let him down, you’ve forgiven him after a hundred stupid mistakes, so Spencer doesn’t care that you’ve been inconsolable for days. He really doesn’t mind that he’s had to look after you this attentively. It’s his pleasure, and he’s getting better at it. 
He presses a few soft shushes somewhere in your hairline, his hand rubbing a circuit into your back with a firm pressure that never tips into roughness. He does it until his palm is numb. He could paint the slant of your back from muscle memory, fingers tripping down the creased fabric of your pyjamas, pulling back up to your neck. He’s never felt such tender sympathy. He hates that you’re in pain, but he doesn’t hate getting to rub your back. This is surely boyfriend territory. 
“You want something to drink now?” he asks quietly. 
You open your mouth to answer, sighing in pain momentarily. “Uh, yeah.” 
“Did you want the straw?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Okay.” He can’t force himself away. “You okay for me to move you?” 
“Yeah.” 
You can’t be blamed for short answers. 
There are surgeries to hold your jaw together when it breaks, and while you were unconscious (shock, rather than head injury), Hotch consented as your next of kin for the doctors to make sure things wouldn’t get worse, but it was Spencer who had to advocate for you afterwards. They’d wanted a metal connector to prevent dislocation. Spencer knew this could mean another scar, so he said no, because you might’ve said no had you been awake, and they should’ve asked you anyways. 
When you did wake up, you were vehemently against it. Which is fine, you can heal without it, but it’s scarier to do it unaided. Your jaw could dislocate if you do something wrong, which is not only horrifically painful, but a painfully horrific injury to have. You talk quietly. You take small mouthfuls of soft foods. 
Spencer looks at you now, tearstained, back arched like a kicked dog, and doesn’t know what to do. He wishes he were the one who got injured instead. 
He takes the hospital bed controls into his hand and presses the button to make the top of your mattress elevate. Tomorrow, they’ll send you home, and Spencer will have to construct a nest of pillows for you to sit in while you recover, but it’ll be worth it. Things won’t feel as intimidating when you’re in your own bed. 
“Lean back, beautiful,” he says. 
Your smile is a straight line with eyes lit up. “What for?” you ask. 
“Comfier. Less stress on your head.” You lean back. “Oh,” he adds, “and so I can get a better view of you.” 
Your eyes get impossibly brighter. “What do you think?” you murmur. Your voice sounds scratched to death from crying, tight from holding your mouth a certain way, but pleased anyways. It’s just as pretty as it always is to him. 
“You’re the prettiest girl in the world,” he says, reaching out to cradle your waist, his hand moving up and down the side of you tenderly. 
You have a bruise from under your left eye and bleeding down your neck, and you haven’t slept right for a few days, but you’re undeniably beautiful in Spencer’s eyes. 
You’ve been the most beautiful girl in the world literally from the day you met onward, with as much to do with your heart as your lovely face. He should tell you that, but he doesn’t. 
“Can I have water now?” you ask, covering his hand with yours. 
His confidence wobbles. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Sorry.” He grabs your drink, water spilling down the side to wet his hand. 
“Please don’t make me laugh.” 
“I’m not trying to,” he says pathetically. 
He holds the cup of water to your face and you guide the straw between your lips. Spencer’s sure he’s been in love with you forever, and it’s all but cemented now. 
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urfriendlywriter · 1 year
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Kisses Prompts that sends the readers reeling:
(5th, and 7th onee!! omfg 12th one PLSPLS somebody write and tag mee!)
hesitant kisses, but when they part one whispers "do it again. please."
hands caressing your neck or tracing your jaw as they kiss you nuts
their lips on yours, hot, feverish, partly sucking, teasing with their tongue (OMG-)
heated kisses - their hands on your bare skin, yours in their soft hair, lips nibbling, biting, moaning into yours, while heavily breathing after.
"love, don't hide your face, don't.." hands gently removing yours from your flushed face. "you make me fluster." you say, but they kiss you through those words and mumble against your lips, "you fluster me more, sweetheart."
kisses trailing down your chin, leaving love bites on your neck, chest, and all the shyness in between > < feeling their hot, sloppy wet kisses all over ur body, everywhere and beneath your stomach, and above it. :')
"i don't know how to kiss but let me kiss you, and I'll do it just right." (on my damn knees ffr)
moving to gasp for air, but the other still leans in, eyes closed, lips parted, absolutely wanting more!!! a string of saliva connecting each other's lips!!
hugs after kisses, that lasts several heartbeats long, as they nuzzle their face in your crook. kissing there as well, shyly smiling into it. (fyi im single since birth and haven't experienced ANY OF THESE BEFORE.)
"kiss me again, but- mphh"
cupping your lover's cheek. staring into their eyes with a grin before the kiss, their hands curling around your neck, anticipating it.
"lay down, love and let me do you how you deserve it."
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lovifie · 7 months
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Masterlist
Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other's body.
Simon and you have been dating for a while now, Simon usually lives at your house when he is not deployed.
He has talked to you about the rest of the boys, as well as talking about you to them. Well, letting them know he is dating somebody, no matter how much Johnny pesters him to learn more about you he didn't tell them anything.
And then one day, you wake up and still half asleep, you go to hug Simon; expecting the mountain of a person that is your boyfriend and the only thing you can feel is someone half your size. That wakes you up fast.
You look at whoever is sleeping next to you… and it is you. But you are you, so why are you sleeping in front of you when you are where you are? And where the fuck is Simon?
You turn around looking for him and you find him, in the reflection of the mirror, looking at you. You wink and the reflection winks back. Okay, cool, cool, cool, cool. So, if you are Simon… then Simon… is the you on the bed.
“Simon.” You whisper, slightly shaking his… your arm?
And the deep voice surprises you when it erupts from within you, but it surprises Simon more because he jumps awake and then jumps back when he sees you.
The Spiderman meme coming to your memory for a second.
“Why are you me?”
“Why am I you?”
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This just has like… so many possibilities. I am definitely coming back to this once I finish writing the next lift me off my feet chapter.
Like, imagine waking up on Simon Riley’s body. Going to base and there is like this 5’2 woman walking looking serious as fuck and then the fucking lieutenant is walking behind grabbing her shirt and looking terrified.
The possibilities, YUMMY.
Like, reader having glasses, and she puts them on like always but for some reason everything is blurry and then she turns to Simon and he is looking back the same way, just looking at each other like:
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Simon being terrified on reader on his body because he knows she's a menace and now she's 6ft, Simon trying to calm himself down and reader being like: "I wanna know how my pussy feels, Simon." And poor Simon being absolutely terrified of not being able to walk anymore.
Reader just constantly hitting her head walking through doors because she has never had that problem and now she's one more hit from permanent brain damage.
Reader looking at herself on Simon's body for a bit too long and getting a massive boner, going to Simon for help only to find him playing with your boobs.
Please, let me know what would be the first thing you would do if it happened to you because I know my stupid ass would just want to hit somebody on the face with my dick. Just because like, how do you respond to that?
Think of the possibilities and tell me about them 😈
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forlix · 9 months
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‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝・h.j.
— stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.
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words・6.4k
pairing・han jisung x female reader
genres・college!au, friends with benefits to lovers, snowed in trope, smut, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED, angst, ANGST, you have been warned, hurt/comfort, i can't write normal fluff to save my life, happy ending!!!, semi-slow burn
warnings・depictions of insomnia, recurring nightmares, graphic violence, character death (in the nightmare), fears of abandonment and falling in love, alcohol consumption, humans helping each other heal. smut warnings under the cut
playlist・stay - acoustic by jonah baker・all of me by big gigantic・babydoll (speed) by ari abdul・oasis by exo・volcano by han
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a/n・hi, here's my second installment of winter falls. writing this was immensely challenging and twice as meaningful, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. thank you to my may for being so fucking instrumental in piecing together this rollercoaster—this one is for you, i love you. thanks to my sahar for everything, always and forever. and thanks to all of you for being here. happy new year ♡
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smut warnings・spitplay, unprotected piv, please practice safe sex!!!, car sex, dirty talk, jisung's dick game is kinda crazy, squirting, lots of aftercare
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Every time Jisung closes his eyes, he sees somebody’s back.
It’s leaving. Traipsing somewhere he can’t follow. He tries to chase it—he always does, he never learns—but the premise doesn’t so much as surface before the ghosts circling around his ankles go for his throat instead. They snare him by the shoulders, force him to his knees, slam his forehead into the permafrost hard enough to break bone. They make sure the next time he tries to move will be the last.
So he remains, keeled over in the cold, until tearwater clings to his lower lashes in small icicles. Until bloodstained snow coats his lips like the manifestation of a curse. Until the back has disappeared.
Who does it belong to? He’s left to wonder. Where is it going?
Why can’t I follow?
Then he wakes up.
No longer does he lay awake for hours afterwards, scouring the dream’s every frame for his answers.
Now, he tosses and turns in clammy sheets until his exhaustion wins.
Now, he welcomes sleep like a miracle granted by some pitying god.
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You see him.
Through a living room packed with red-faced partygoers and dissected by oscillating strobe lights, albeit, but you see him anyways. 
Jisung can barely make out the rest of your face—he blames the lighting, or the soju, or both—but your eyes alone turn him to glass. Not a fancy vase through which the world distorts, but a simple pane that puts him and his ghosts on full display.
He hopes you like horror movies.
Felix knows you, because of course he does, and Jisung has never been happier to call the extroverted Australian his friend than when you come over to say hi. You stumble out of the crowd all smudged makeup and sweaty skin, your figure hugged by a short black dress with two diamond-shaped openings just above your hips, your glossy lips curved in a drunken smile. Jisung immediately wants it against his mouth.
Instead, it disappears behind his friend as you pull him into a quick hug. A few wisps of your hair dust over Jisung’s arm, momentarily replacing the smells of grease and vodka with cherry blossoms and vanilla.
“Lix, hey!”
“Darling, it’s good to see you! Feels like it’s been ages.”
“I know, right? How are you? How is everything?”
“Good, thank you. Just happy the semester’s over.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Then you go to lift your drink and discover thin air in its place. “Or I won’t. Whoops.���
This prompts Jisung’s first contribution to the conversation—and his first effortless laugh in a long while.
“Eventful night, huh?”
He meets your gaze from all of two feet away this time, and his knees buckle under him. That gaze, fuck. So clear and true, like a prism of glass refracting light into a rainbow. He would let you refract him a thousand times over if he had any light to give.
“Maybe,” you giggle. “Seems I’m a little too happy the semester’s over.”
“Wanna not get a drink to celebrate?”
Your expression flickers. Not in a bad way, more like you hadn’t expected him to ask so soon—or for yourself to have your answer so quickly.
A strobe light catches right under your eye and refracts the color in your blushing face. A rainbow.
“I’d like that.”
He tilts his head towards the kitchen. You give Felix’s elbow a light squeeze before moving past him; he gives Felix a glimpse of his growing smile before falling into step behind you. The blonde shakes his head, throws back the rest of his beer, then swivels at the sound of someone calling his name from across the foyer.
Felix will get drunk enough to forget the sight of you leading Jisung up the stairs, two bottles of pink lemonade tucked under your arm. Nothing stronger, as promised.
Jisung asks his question an entire minute after he intends to. “Where are we going, by the way?”
“Somewhere I can see your pretty face without having to squint,” you reply, and his stomach tumbles like a schoolboy with a valentine.
You don’t stop at the second floor. Instead, you nudge open a door Jisung swears just materialized to his left and emerge into the night air.
It’s warm for December, but he’s still met with chilly winds licking down the sides of his neck. That’s not the only reason he shudders, though. Below his feet, he finds a metal platform akin to that of a fire escape. Above his head, a staircase that looks one forceful step away from dropping off the side of the building.
You turn towards it. 
In a hurry, he sputters, “I’m, uh—I’m not sure about this.”
A beat passes. Your hold on his wrist loosens, not to let go, just to trace wordless reassurance down the back of his hand. Your fingers feel perfect sliding into the spaces between his, like drops of honey in the craters of soufflé pancakes.
“It’s safer than it looks, I promise.”
Jisung heaves a sigh. It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.
You’re right, though. The iron rungs are surprisingly rigid beneath his feet, and the two of you make it to the roof with no trouble. He does stumble when you pull him up onto the gravel, but it’s intentional, a purposeful blunder to have you closer. To snag another glimpse of that blush, another trace of that floral vanilla.
“Sorry,” he whispers almost directly upon your lips. And that earns him all three.
The next hour evades him for the most part, and Jisung is pissed about it. He’s with the woman of his dreams under a sky so clear it’s almost lustrous and he’s too shitfaced to recollect when he gave you his hoodie to wear; what you said that made his lungs capsize with how hard he laughed; how you ended up so close to each other, your legs strewn over his lap, his hands tracing over your thighs.
Thankfully, he remembers a few things. He remembers how frighteningly easy you are to talk to; he remembers your habit of smacking his stomach when you get flustered; he remembers you getting flustered a lot. He remembers the timbres of your different laughs and how your stunning features crinkle with each. He remembers feeling like a pane of glass in front of you, just like he had downstairs, and he remembers liking it, somehow. Liking the way you see through him, the way you allow him to just exist as he is. Liking the way you acknowledge his ghosts with such nonchalance, inviting them over for tea and biscuits.
He wants to remember everything about you.
It’s not often he wants to remember anything.
Eventually, your conversation comes to a natural close. In its absence, Jisung notices that the alcoholic sludge in his brain has largely diffused; with it, the rumbling bass of the party below. The full moon hangs at its highest point, blanketing the two of you with anticipatory silence, nudging you towards the only topic you’ve yet to breach.
He meets your gaze again, from all of two inches away this time, and his insides twist.
“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”
You blink at him, not following. Then he leans his forehead against yours, lets his eyes flicker to your mouth with such unbridled want that you’re instantly dizzy—and no longer confused.
Regret pools in your eyes moments before they close. “Yes, I think so.”
Your lips are so, so close that he can feel the air shift between you when they move, can feel the soft warmth emanating from them. Jisung pulls away before he does anything stupid.
You do the stupid thing for him.
You push his shoulders to the plaster behind him, push yourself onto his lap with a swing of your body and a slotting of your legs on either side of him. 
The plush of your thighs hugging his hips, the curves of your breasts pressed against his chest, Jisung tries to stare up at you, perplexed, aroused. But you’re so close that he can’t, so he settles with whispering upon the underside of your chin, “what are you—”
“Gimme your lemonade.”
The authoritative words come out in a slurred haze, and he all but hastens to oblige. 
You pluck the plastic bottle from his wavering grasp. His empty hand hovers as if uncertain where to go. But matters as trivial as hand placement drop off his mind’s precipice as he watches you unscrew the cap, the slope of your neck illuminated by spindly moonlight, and without thinking he pushes his hands beneath the hem of your—his—hoodie.
The skin of your waist is warm and smooth where his fingertips are cold and calloused, the juxtaposition unimportant in your reciprocal desires to touch and be touched.
“Open,” you murmur.
His jaw goes slack, firstly from pure disbelief. Then, obedience. The dark locks that obstruct his vision of you fall away as his head meets the brick half-wall behind him, as if the midnight breeze itself mandated their removal.
You pour some of the pink liquid past Jisung’s parted lips. Stray rivulets slip down his cheek and vanish beneath his neckline. You break eye contact to follow their path with dilated pupils and fluttering lashes. With unadulterated desire.
He swallows, gently, and feels the sweet substance surround his tonsils.
He swallows, forcefully, when you wrap your lips around the bottle, the plastic still slathered in his spit.
The swig you take is long, deep. Your throat bobs and your eyes close as if you’re savoring a finely-aged nectar. Then your lips are popping off the opening with a soft thwock, leaving a thick strand of saliva to suspend, suspend, suspend until the very second it’s about to drop, which is when you collect the residue with a deft swipe of your tongue.
“A placeholder,” you breathe, and Jisung’s head careens. A shared bottle. An indirect kiss.
“You’re a monster,” he croaks.
You giggle and lean down, curling a hand around his cheek, pressing a wet kiss to his Adam’s apple.
“Tomorrow, if we’re both sober…”
One, two, three pecks up the length of his jaw.
“...and you still remember my address…”
A suckle to the lobe of his ear.
“...you can kiss me, for real.”
A trembling breath.
“And then some.”
Jisung moans, loudly.
Thankfully, he remembers a few things.
He shows up at your place shortly after sunset the next day. You swing open the door, your face already alight with your world-ending smile.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
Then he’s kissing you like a man famished.
Jisung learns to love your back, that night. He loves its dips and curves, loves its rise and fall. Loves how it arches into him, how it looks drenched in his cum. It’s the back of his dreams.
The back in his dreams keeps walking.
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Jisung has never liked winter.
He has never liked its winds, whispering woefully as if mourning something unnamed and unseen. He has never liked its palette, whitewashing the world as if refracting a rainbow in reverse.
He has never liked cracking open his eyes and seeing the scenery of his nightmare outside his window. Nor does he like trudging over the sleet as if weighed down by the same ghosts that break him time and time again in his dreamscape. They love winter. 
And this winter, he swears, is the bitterest yet. On the nights when he’s allowed to sleep, the nightmare comes in such sharp relief that he thinks he’d rather anything else, the ghosts meaner, the blood redder, the silhouette slower. It’s an act of mercy when he’s still awake by the time bleached sunlight perforates the curtains, resting upon his salted cheeks and balled fists.
This winter, it is not just dislike that he feels towards the gray winds—it’s hatred. A maelstrom of loathing so large and dark that Jisung no longer knows where it’s headed or what it’s directed to. Or who.
When winter break comes to an end, he’s probably the only person who’s happy about it.
His friends certainly aren’t, looking like a line of angry nutcrackers with their folded arms and thunderous faces standing outside Greem Cafe.
Jisung calls out a greeting as he jogs towards them, and cue the grumbling.
“What is there to smile about? Enlighten us.” That’s Hyunjin. “I have to deal with four finals and three essays in the next five days and this guy is smiling.”
“He’s accepted his fate, I reckon.” That’s Felix. “We should do the same, boys. Let ourselves down easy, y’know?”
“No, no, he’s smiling because he remembered to bring me his chem notes.” That’s Jeongin. “You did, right? Please say you did.”
Jisung is stunned into silence. “Can I not be happy to see my friends?”
“No,” Hyunjin and Felix reply in unison.
“My bad,” he sighs.
“My notes,” Jeongin repeats.
“I have them, dude. Let’s sit down first.”
The younger boy shouts an impassioned “THANK YOU” at the sky like the clouds just saved his GPA. Jisung reaches for the door to the café, then stops at the sound of Felix’s voice.
“We’re waiting on one more person.”
He turns towards the blonde with puzzled eyes. He’d been under the impression the study session would comprise just them four.
“Who?”
Felix’s response falters on his tongue when he catches sight of something in the distance, and his face changes in a way Jisung’s seen before.
“Look behind you.” Felix shuffles past him, raising his voice to shout, “yo!”
Jisung glances away from the newcomer as quickly as he sees her. It’s not until his eyes pivot to the fire hydrant across the street that he processes her identity.
In one second flat, his mind clutters full. He thinks back to that party, when all it took was the sight of your smile for him to theorize you were the most exquisite thing ever made. He thinks back to the next evening, when he kissed you and verified his hypothesis. He thinks back to what followed and would continue to follow in the few days that remained before break: entwined tongues and emblazoned hickeys, whitened knuckles and whiny praise, snapping hips and shaking bedframes.
This winter, Jisung swears, is the bitterest yet.
But seeing you, the scarf wound multiple times around your neck doing nothing to hide your gorgeous smile, feels like catching a fragment of summer in his frozen hands.
“Thank god,” Felix groans before embracing you. Collapsing on you, more like. “I’m saved.”
You reach around to pat the boy on the back, your eyes brimming with laughter. “Lower your expectations, please. I did well on one exam.”
“You aced the midterm. That automatically makes you a rocket scientist,” Felix corrects, his voice muffled into the shoulder of your coat. A few beats of silence pass. Then, “this is comfy.”
“Okay, okay, let’s go get some caffeine in you,” you giggle. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”
Felix straightens up sleepily. And sadly. “Superb.”
Jisung hangs back as you introduce yourself to Hyunjin and Jeongin. He doesn’t even notice his growing smile until you’re standing directly in front of him and for the first time in three weeks there’s the smell of cherry blossoms in the air and a rainbow shining on his face again.
“Hi,” he offers.
“Hey,” you reply.
Hyunjin is the one to shatter the prolonged silence that follows. “Are you guys betrothed?”
Felix and Jeongin stalk into the café snickering. You and Jisung trail behind with flaming cheeks.
It takes Jisung two and a half hours to talk to you again. At that point in the afternoon, Felix is napping on the second practice test you’ve given him; Hyunjin has downed three shots of pure espresso and is currently viewing his screen with concerning intensity; Jeongin is at another table on a quiet Zoom call with his chemistry T.A., Jisung’s notes clutched to his chest like a life vest. And you’re leaning back against your seat opposite to him, scrolling through your phone in what he presumes to be a well-deserved study break. As good a time as any.
He opens up his texts with you. His fingers fly across the keyboard.
Jisung: do you have plans after this?
Your eyes stutter to the top of your screen, linger there for a moment, and lock onto Jisung’s from across the table.
He presses his lips into a thin line to suppress his smile. You let yours spill over in full form, and with it comes a soft giggle that would be worth getting his number fucking blocked just to hear one more time.
Three gray dots appear before elongating into a prompt response.
Y/N: I was gonna ask you the same thing…
He’s the one who laughs this time. Fuck, you’re cute. You’re so cute.
Jisung: can i take you to dinner? Y/N: Yes, I’d love that :) Y/N: When should we leave? Jisung: 9? Y/N: Sounds good~ Jisung: cool Jisung: it’s a date Y/N: It’s a date! Y/N: Excited 💛
With that, you put your phone face down and return to work, though your lips remain privately upturned. Jisung wants to kiss them again.
He also wants to turn you into a mess on his cock again.
Or both.
He doesn’t get much studying done after that thought surfaces.
Jisung: me too <3
When nine o’clock rolls around, you and Jisung begin cleaning up your work stations in near-perfect simultaneity. There’s confusion written all over Hyunjin’s and Jeongin’s faces as they watch you swing your backpacks over your shoulders—but Felix’s expression is a blank slate as he sips from his macchiato. Your ingenuity isn’t the only reason he invited you today.
As you make your way out of the café, your shoulders brush once, twice, and then Jisung drops his hand into the space between the two of you without uttering a word. You scoop it up in your own without missing a beat.
He steps into the freezing night feeling warm all over.
“You know what I realized?” You say as you walk towards his SUV.
“What did you realize?”
“We’ve never had a sober conversation before. Can we change that tonight?”
Jisung has broken hearts before.
There’s no euphemistic way to describe his tendency to abuse the sensitive organs, to wring them out and throw them away like irrelevant trash. To juggle and drop them with a sheepish laugh like they’re nothing more than props in a circus act.
He doesn’t do it to save himself or his partners from getting hurt or any self-ingratiating bullshit like that. It’s for himself, all for himself. All to unload his balls and his mind for fifteen blissful seconds. 
There’s blood on his hands. He never cared to wash it off.
Except you are the one asking for his heart this time around, a dash of hope in your smile as you do so, and he thinks it would be his life’s greatest honor to be discarded by you.
“Sure,” he answers.
He doesn’t even last until he’s inside the car.
Your back meets the door to the passenger’s seat, guided there by his hands on your hips. From millimeters away he watches your surprise morph into understanding, then darken into lust.
“I like when we don’t talk, though.”
It’s the most annoying thing in the world to remove so many layers in such a cramped space.
Combined, your clothing forms a tower high enough to block out the driver’s window completely. An unnecessary blockade.
The glass fogs up anyways.
“Fuck, Ji, yes, right there, oh my god.”
You have your legs spread open and the back of your neck digging into the cupholder on the door. It’s not comfortable. You’re too busy getting fucked open to care.
Jisung detaches his lips from your neck to ask, “here, baby?”
The head of his cock hits that gummy spot again, harder, sweeter. You convulse, your hand scrambling for purchase in his raven locks.
“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, please.”
Please. The word plays over in his fuzzy mind.
It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.
His cock slips out of you and you lament the loss of contact with a high wail.
“W-why’d—where’d you go?”
He can’t help but chuckle at how incoherent you’ve become. He cradles the back of your head with a tender hand and lowers your upper body onto the leather seat, adjusting himself to your new elevation.
“Right here, beautiful. Didn’t go anywhere—promise—” 
He expels the final word through gritted teeth as he slams into you again, and the new angle is glorious. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony. Profanities tumble from his lips in a steady stream before they turn back into syllables.
“Would never go anywhere. Would never leave without making this pretty pussy cream like it deserves—holy fucking shit, baby.”
You clench around him at his words and then he’s setting a new, relentless rhythm, rocking the whole vehicle with every hearty smack of his hips against yours, your wet walls squeezing him so dreamily he thinks he sees nirvana with every thrust.
You’re enjoying it just as much, if the bubbles of spit in the corner of your mouth are any indication, and Jisung is viciously proud to be the cause. Unbelievably lucky to feel your breasts jiggling under his chest and your nails digging into the back of his neck.
“Good?” He whispers, and you nod blissfully.
“So—good, Ji, so fucking good. Your cock is perfect, fuck, I can’t even—can’t even think.”
“You’re the perfect one. Can’t believe how well your cunt takes me, shit. It’s like it was fucking made for this.”
“It was,” you breathe, and he nearly shoots his load into you at this alone. “It was, it was—oh, god, I think—think I’m gonna come—”
“Do it,” he rasps. “Come for me. Come on this cock and it’s yours.”
“R-really?”
“Really.”
“Then, I will. I’ll come on your cock—make it mine. Need it so fucking bad, I’m so fucking close, oh—please—”
He anchors himself in place with a hand against the windowsill and the other travels down your body to rub fast, tight circles into your clit. You let out a wanton, prolonged moan, tilt your head back to expose him to your fluttering throat. And then you’re pulling his lips onto yours again, and the following kiss is sloppy beyond belief, the kind that can only antedate the happiest of endings.
“My cock,” you sigh into his mouth. “Mine.”
“Forever,” is the breathy response he doesn’t know if he means, the response he gives you anyways.
And then you curl your fingers in his hair. Clamp your teeth around his lower lip. Clench your thighs around his waist. There’s liquid everywhere. Tearwater spilling down the sides of your face. Release gushing all over his dick and pelvis and backseat.
He catches up the moment he realizes what’s just happened. Pulls out of you. Presses his head against the roof of his car. Spits on his hand. Pumps his pulsating cock. Sends himself over the edge you’ve just finished tripping over.
Eventually, he regains feeling in his limbs.
He opens his eyes, surveys the damage, and grins.
Your stomach is covered in ropes of white, your expression hidden behind your hands. You start shaking your head in profuse embarrassment the moment you feel his eyes on you.
“You squirted,” he says.
“I know,” you almost yell, and his grin erupts into a laugh.
He lowers himself back over you, takes your wrists, and removes them from your blushing face. He doesn’t think he’s seen you so flustered before and it has him palpitating in ways he never thought feasible.
Maybe he did mean the damn thing after all.
He pushes off the strands of hair clinging to your damp forehead and replaces them with a gentle kiss. “It was sexy as fuck and you’re everything.” 
There’s a certain softness in your eyes when he pulls away. He hopes, for your sake, it’s all in his head.
His car is in need of aftercare most of all. You shrug on your clothes with considerable effort and get to work, all while sharing comfortable chatter and easy laughter.
Those things persist during your dinner date at a nearby Chinese restaurant and the drive back to your place, which Jisung knows well enough to no longer need his GPS. Those things persist until he kisses you goodbye on your doorstep, because he would have to be fucking crazy not to after you gave him the best night he’s had in so long.
After you reminded him that he’s still capable of comfort and ease, in spite of it all.
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Snow comes a few weeks into the new year. 
This winter, it falls late, and it falls hard, like a gust of breath expelled from drawn lungs at the very last minute. Held there as if lying in wait for something unnamed and unseen. 
The gust of breath is too quiet to be heard over the one Jisung lets out against the shell of your ear. “Wait here.”
He goes to roll off you. You don’t let him just yet, darting your hand around his wrist and bringing his face back within centimeters of yours.
Han Jisung is beautiful. You knew it for the first time at that houseparty and you’ve known it every hour of every day since. But it’s always clearest to you in the afterglow, when his bare skin is golden and sticky and his delicate lips bitten to bright fuchsia. 
When his irises have gone black and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light.
You close the distance that remains between you. Your lips part with a content sigh. Your hands drift over the slant of his neck; his find home in the dips above your waist.
He breaks away once you’re both out of breath, and the pad of his thumb wipes lightly at your lower lip.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes,” you reply shyly. “I couldn’t help myself.”
The smile this brings to his face reminds you of a candle’s flame. Soft on the eyes and scalding to the touch when he presses it back against your lips. Once, twice.
“Can you wipe your cum off me now?” You whisper, and he laughs straight into your mouth.
The mattress lifts. His footsteps grow quieter. You shiver in his absence.
Only then do you notice the blizzard.
You stumble off the bed to throw your curtains aside. Snow descends from the sky like spools of unraveling yarn. The streetlights have been reduced to foggy specks, the parked cars to blurry heaps. Every sidewalk and rooftop in sight has already been slathered in ivory.
Jisung announces his return with a disbelieving whistle.
“Am I dreaming?” You murmur.
“When did that happen?”
“I have no idea.”
You don’t even notice the wild smile on your face until you turn to him and catch his reaction to it. He looks like he’s asking himself the same question.
“C’mere,” he hums, and you oblige.
He laves the warm towel over your breasts and stomach, as well as the places his release has trickled since you flung yourself to your feet. All while supporting the small of your back with a touch fatally careful, an expression wholly adoring. All evidence of just how blurry the line between sexual escapade and lover has become in two short months.
Your ribcage fucking throbs.
“You don’t seem excited,” you say.
He finishes cleaning you off. You give him a distracted thank you, noticing the sudden shadow draped over his face like a netted veil.
“I’m not,” he answers, not unkindly.
“You don’t like snow?”
“Not really.”
“Why?”
He circles around the bed to get dressed. You bend to pick up the clothes tossed aside earlier and drop them into your hamper, then slip into a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants.
“It’s a long story.”
Just as you reach for a top, a bundle of cloth travels in an arc across your bedroom and hooks itself around the crook of your arm. His T-shirt. 
You glance at Jisung. He’s already looking elsewhere, but his private smile makes its way onto your face as you slip it on.
“Well, I have time.” You sink into your mattress, now surrounded by his muted musk, his papyrus and petrichor. “We’ll be stuck here a while, after all.”
“Stuck?” Jisung repeats, the lanyard of his car keys dangling from the pocket of his hoodie, his feet turned towards the door.
A pregnant pause commences. His intentions dawn, and you gape.
“You’re not driving right now.”
He breaks eye contact.
“Right?”
That was the plan, you read in his expression.
You know better than trying to reverse a river’s current by kicking up rocks. You know better than trying to curtail the flight of an albatross by clipping its wings.
You know better than asking someone who thinks he was made to leave to stay.
And you won’t.
“I have somewhere to be early tomorrow morning,” he stammers, the lines terribly rehearsed. “The snow’s not heavy, I’ll be—”
“Stay.”
You’re not asking.
Jisung looks at you, startled, as you glide across the bed. You place your feet on the hardwood and circle your arms around his waist. Lace your fingers upon the hollow of his back. His pulse goes uneven at your abrupt proximity.
Akin to the drag of a feather, you mouth at his cheek, then the side of his neck.
“You can stay, Jisung.”
He shudders at your words, and you’ve got him.
It’s oddly normal, the sight of him clambering into your bed in your clothing—a pair of old sweatpants and your favorite crewneck—like this isn’t the first time you’re sleeping together in your two months of sleeping together.
In fact, the only indication of anything unordinary is the floaty feeling in your stomach when your head hits the pillow and discover Jisung’s face only inches away. He drapes an arm over your waist, gathering you close. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck.
The inevitable question follows.
“Can I save the story for another time?”
“Sure,” you return, keeping your voice small. He doesn’t hear your disappointment this way. “Should we go to sleep, then?”
“We should.”
Your foreheads touch. Your noses bump together. Your eyes cross, watching the adoration pull at his. You dimly register your hand threading in his fluffy locks, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your lashes narrowly miss the surface of his eyes, and then he tips your face up by millimeters.
You don’t remember when you fall asleep. You only recall the hour beforehand that you spend with Jisung’s lips traversing yours, like you are the ocean and he’s uncovering new waters with every bruise he prints against your throat, every suckle he leaves around your tongue.
In your dream, the roles reverse and you are the one exploring him, mapping out his constellations with wide-eyed wonder.
You wake to a black hole.
For the first five seconds, you see nothing. You hear nothing. You feel nothing. You only blink in the darkness, your mind kicking into groggy gear to ask the very good question of why you’re conscious again.
Instinct moves your hand across the mattress. Empty space greets you where Jisung should be. Unfounded dread shoves your back off the bed. You gasp, the sound seeming to echo in the cavernous silence.
Your eyes adjust enough to discern light in the crack beneath your door, and you’re wide awake.
The following events go by in a blur. You stumble out of bed and into your closet, fastening your fingers around the thickest piece of fabric you find. You fly into the living room, where the lamp by the couch is left on and the pair of worn black Converse on your doormat have gone missing.
The front door is cracked open, and through the narrow inches you spot someone hunched on the stairs outside, his dark hair dyed platinum by the awning light’s fluorescence.
Your heart stills in relief, then quickens with anxiety.
You’ve tried wearing this crewneck in January enough times to know you can’t. In fact, you suspect that it somehow soaks up the temperature, lets it seep in between its every seam until it becomes one with the bitter winds. 
But he isn’t shivering, you notice as you take a seat next to him, draping the puffer over both of your shoulders on your way down. He’s simply staring off into the bleak storm, snowflakes sitting atop his head like a coating of ash, their color matching that of his frozen skin. He’s becoming one with the bitter winds. 
At first, you don’t recognize the man in front of you.
You’re well familiar with those ring-laden hands and the whetted jawline thrown into shadow, those remnants of cologne clinging to his frame. But you have never seen that gaze before, bloodshot and bleak and belonging to somebody new. Somebody who isn’t completely here, straddling the partition between the realms of people and phantoms.
Then he lifts his eyes and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light. Your stars.
And you recognize him for the first time ever.
You drop your hand to your hip, and his fingers feel stiff and cold and perfect, sliding into the spaces between yours.
“Why don’t you like snow?” You ask.
Jisung’s eyes return to the swirling sleet, but he moves your interlocked hands to rest on his thigh, and you know that he’s with you.
He’s been having this nightmare.
It takes place in a small clearing. It’s winter, and everything is covered in snow. Not the gentle kind that you can catch on your tongue, but the unyielding kind that’s hard and dense and covered in cracks, like a lake newly frozen over.
Somebody is in front of him, walking away. He can only see their back. He wants to chase after them. He doesn’t want to be left behind. But there are ghosts nearby, and they’ll split his skull open on the permafrost and tie his windpipe into a pretty bow if he so much as dreams of pursuit. He always does. He doesn’t know how not to.
Normally, the back leaves, and he can do nothing but remain. He can direct his loathing only to the snow into which he bleeds. 
Normally, he waits for the dream to end with something bordering on boredom. He’s seen this movie too many times. He fucking hates how it ends.
This time, though, the snow tastes like something.
After the flavors deliquesce upon his tongue, his head shoots up, his eyes blowing wide as they latch onto the retreating figure. He knows who it is.
His feet scrabbles against the ice with his attempts to rise to them. He lunges forward with frenzied resolve, and that is when the ghosts snap his neck.
He wakes up.
“Cherry blossoms and vanilla.”
You blink, tearwater streaking from your eyes in silent, steaming trails.
“That’s—”
My shampoo.
A broken sob escapes you in lieu of the rest of your sentence, and Jisung laughs, a flimsy facade that crumbles when he lifts his hand to dab at your moistened cheeks and it’s trembling.
“Silly,” he murmurs. “I’m used to it now.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
“I don’t want you to cry for me.”
“You died.”
“And I would do it again.”
This response comes without an shred of hesitation.
You first realized you had something to confess, that night in the the back of Jisung’s SUV. You’ve kept it locked away for your sake and his, even moreso. You see how fear clings to him like an unshakeable wraith, and you refuse to feed the parasite.
Now, your confession explodes from its fortress in the center of your soul and rises up your larynx. You panic like an inept security guard letting their only prisoner bolt free. Is it really the right time? Do you know what to say? Have you really thought this through? 
Too late. It’s rushing to the point of your tongue already. You suppose you’ll find out.
He saves you the trouble.
“Honestly?”
Your confession stills. 
“I don’t know if I’m okay, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise. You’d call my bluff. You’re good at that.
“But everything feels okay when I’m with you. You see me. You allow me just to exist as I am. You make me feel human again—you make me want to feel human again. You empty my mind.”
You feel as if you’ve been ejected into space naked, griping for air where there is none.
“I never believed in having somebody to lose,” he utters, gently leaning his forehead against yours. “But I would rather disappear than watch you go.”
You cradle his jaw with shaking fingers, trying and failing to quell the violence of your emotion.
“Don’t go,” he exhales.
You kiss him.
It should feel the same as before. You reach for the slant of his neck, him the dips above your waist. You sigh into him, parting your lips, and he moves into you deeper, harder, dipping into your mouth with his tongue’s pliant swipe. But there’s something new in the way you hold each other, in the seal of your mouth against his.
The line between sexual escapade and lover vanishes as if swept off the sand and into the sea. His stars come out of hiding at last and they bathe you in their residue, light your heart aglow.
Your confession resurfaces. It wants to stargaze also.
“I love you too,” you breathe.
The night comes and goes.
The two of you spend it entangling, sweating, your lips glued the expanse of his neck and the arcs of his shoulders, writing over the ghosts’ injuries with bruises of your making.
Only when the winds have faltered outside do you attempt to rest again. You are curled up in balmy bliss, utterly depleted. Jisung’s arms around your middle and legs threaded among yours bring you that much closer to slumber’s cusp.
You attribute it to your exhaustion when he mumbles something against you, and you have no idea what it means: “Thank you for refracting me.” 
Your confusion is palpable in your silence. His laugh hits the nape of your neck with a gentle puff, and he kisses the spot just beneath your ear. “Never mind.”
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!
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6okuto · 1 year
Text
FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS
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gn!reader | timeskip kenma, hinata, sakusa, suna
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KENMA’s chat has never moved faster than now as you sit together and watch edits that fans have made of him, and the two of you. you jokingly coo and hug him when you find an edit about “how he looks at you.” “ken! oh my god, you’re so—” “shut up, scroll away already.” “no, i’m sending this to myself, stop—give me the phone!” kenma turns away, forcing you to wrap yourself around him in a desperate attempt to grab the phone while it’s still on the video. the both of you are laughing when you yell, “chat, chat, somebody send that edit to me!” “chat, don’t listen to them. we aren’t even dating. this relationship was fake the whole time.” “shut the fuck up, kenma.” you say in mock annoyance—a grin still on your face—and hit his arm. he snickers as you stop to rest your head on his shoulder and frown. "please?" a beat passes before he huffs. “fine. i’ll send it to you after.” it was an inevitable outcome, but you still cheer and turn back to the stream to see everyone’s reaction, not catching the loving gaze he has on his face watching you again.
HINATA, despite his usual energy, finds his eyes drooping as he watches the live chat scroll past him. it was late, and he decided to talk to fans before going to bed—about upcoming games, a new restaurant he visited that he thinks might become a favourite, how he’s been looking for new shoes. it’s been maybe an hour when his responses are filled with more hums than sentences, and he decides to rest his head. by the time you find him, he’s been asleep for 10 minutes. “hi guys, i’m gonna end the live and get this guy to bed now,” you whisper with an amused smile. shoyo shuffles at the sound of your voice, and his comes out muffled against the pillow. “babe?” “sorry, sho, did i wake you?” “mm, ‘s okay. are you coming t’bed soon?” “yeah, just ending your live.” “...oh. goodnight everybody,” he murmurs and raises his fingers in what’s supposed to be a wave. his fans watch as he reaches for you, eyes still closed, and make sure to take screenshots of the sleepy, lovesick smile on his face after you kiss his forehead before the live ends.
SAKUSA’s always been teased about how little he posts on his social media outside of things related to his career. it’s not a shock that your relationship isn’t something he posts casually. after an interviewer jokes about how fans might think he’s single, or that you’ve broken up by this point, kiyoomi decides to make a photo dump encompassing the last few months with you. it has a photo of you tucked in bed and sleeping the first night at the new apartment, a video of you singing where he can be heard softly laughing in the background, a photo of you smiling at the birthday gifts and dinner you enjoyed together, a blurry selfie with the two of you kissing, and one where kiyoomi, known for his stoic face and attitude, is a little tipsy and smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck from behind. fans pour out words of support and excitement below his caption of “i love you. happy anniversary, and thank you for letting me be yours.”
SUNA and you are chatting with some fans when one asks if you’ve been watching anything lately. you both say the name of the drama you’re watching together without hesitation, the most recent episode still on your mind. “the way he like, turned her to face him and they were so close before finally kissing—” you cut yourself off with a grin, flustered at the thought as everyone excitedly agrees. “has suna ever done something like that?” someone asks. rintarou turns to you the same time you look at him, cocking his head to the side with a teasing smile. “yeah, have i ever done anything like that?” “no,” you lie, staring right at him. his fans team up, “ooooh”’s thrown his way. you’re not sure what anyone was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to take it as a challenge and step closer. the crowd is suddenly quiet as he leans in, eyes flickering from looking into yours down to your lips. “are you sure?” he murmurs. your breath hitches as he moves in even closer, lips barely an inch from yours. before you realize it, your eyes are fluttering closed as his hand comes to cup your face and lips meet yours. it’s barely a few days later until a video of you kissing goes viral, and rintarou is saving it to his gallery.
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hii can i request a snow x reader in which reader is married to another men and snow attend a party and try to win reader’s heart/seduce to marry her to fullfill both destinies in gaining power and rule panem together
Birthright || Young!Coriolanus Snow x Capitol!reader
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A/n: thank you for the request anon! please send through more requests of coriolanus snow cause im running out of ideas.
Warnings: swearing, smoking, slightly dark!reader and snow?
Wc: 2,089
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Divider by @firefly-graphics
You felt his hand slither around the curve of your waist, coming to a rest on the side of your hip. A smile makes it your lip as he peppers kisses along your bare shoulder and the side of your neck.
"Happy anniversary again, darling wife," Your husband, Flint, whispers against your skin. "Happy anniversary, husband," Your hand reaches to the side of his face where he leans against your touch, a light sigh leaving his lips.
"Must we throw this celebration? I'd rather celebrate this special day with you alone, in our room, preferably with no clothes on," He smirks as you breathe out of your nose and turn your body towards him. "I wish nothing more than to do that but this party needs to go through. For the sake of us," You whisper the last bit as he understands what you meant.
You take ahold of his hands and guide them down your body to let them rest on your ass as he squeezes your flesh, letting out a low groan. "Let's get this over and done with then," His tone was flat as he starts walking towards the door, his hand still on your ass as you move it higher up.
Putting on a smile, the doors open revealing the lavishly expensive styled room. Flint spent a lot of money for this celebration to be perfect. It had to be perfect for you. It was not everyday you would be celebrating your one year anniversary.
Your dress hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating the curves of your body. There was a slit on the side of your leg and a deep cut at the front showing cleavage. You were always known to be best dressed in the capitol, and your looks were not forsaken; Flint knew he was the luckiest man in Panem all because he married you.
As you stayed by your husband's side throughout the celebration, chatting to Flint’s fair-weathered friends and discussing the latest gossips with their wives, you were oblivious to a particular somebody's stares from across the room.
Coriolanus Snow swirled the goblet of posca in his hand before taking a sip, his eyes glued on you from where he was standing. The conversation around him drowning out as he watches. Watches the way your husband would pull you closer to him every single time a man would get anywhere remotely close to you, even if he was just walking pass.
Coriolanus knew Flint was a fraud. His businesses were crumbling only after a year, though he kept up a façade, for the sake of his reputation and image. He was a corrupt man who was too greedy and couldn’t deal with the consequences of his impulsive decisions with a stiff upper lip.
Snow wondered how much he had to borrow from the bank to organise such a party like this. He wondered if you even knew that Flint was in serious debt. Someone like you shouldn't be put in such a position. Your reputation possibly crumbling just because of a young idiot like Flint who you were forced to marry for political reasons.
Coming from the wealthiest family in Panem who owns a number of successful business around the Capitol and has large assets in banking, it would only make sense that you married a man with nearly equal wealth, like Flint. His family had assets in transportation and the travel industry, with assets of hotels littered all around the districts.
Born filthy rich and being raised in that environment, you only settled for nothing less than what you were already brought up with. You were the most sought after and eligible wife in the Capitol. You were raised from the age of 10 on how to be the perfect wife, and you were just that at only the age of 21.
Coryo places his goblet down on a tray carried by an Avox and weaved his way closer to you. He knew he couldn't just approach you just like that so openly, especially with Flint close by. Flint didn't even know that Snow was keeping tabs on his crumbling business and knew his dirty secrets.
And he had no idea that Coriolanus has been after you since, well, the day he laid eyes on you. You weren't a stupid person, quite the opposite. Intelligent, obedient, disciplined, stunning, rich, perfect, what else could the future president of Panem possibly want?
Snow always thought that you deserved more than to be with a guy like Flint. Your husband didn't deserve you at all, no, but someone like Coriolanus Snow did. You screamed authority in the marriage, and you would be perfect for First Lady. He always fantasised about you in that position, you walking around the presidential mansion, your children running around. The both of you standing infront of all of Panem, together, untied.
And he intends to make his fantasies come true. And so there he stood, only a few feet away from you, your eyes fixated on the goblet in your hand, a smile on your face when Flint kisses you cheek, though the smile doesn’t reach your eyes.
And as quickly as it appeared on your face, the smile disappears. “Snow!” A voice calls out making you look up and make eye contact with him. Coriolanus narrows his eyes at you before turning his attention to whoever called out to him.
“Festus,” He flatly says, tone bored as he tucks his hands deep in his deep red jacket. The second Festus opened his mouth to talk, Coriolanus caught glimpse of your leaving figure, his eyes watching you as you look over your shoulder. The two of you maintaining eye contact as you silently tell him to follow you. “Hey- Where are you going” Coryo pushes past Festus’ protests, making a beeline to the door you just walked out of.
You were slightly bewildered when you saw Coriolanus standing just a few feet away from you. His return to the capitol hadn’t reached your ears, and there he was, in his full glory. You had to admit though, what he pulled off in the 10th hunger games with Lucy Gray, bold move.
“Why, Coriolanus Snow,” The clicking of your heels came to a halt as you turn around. Coryo quietly shuts the bathroom door behind him, locking it, as you raise an eyebrow at him and fold your arms over your chest.
“Y/n,” He nods his head at you, a smile on his face. “Any reason you wanted my attention?” With a slight tilt of your head, he chuckles, removing his hands from his pockets and locking them infront of him.
“Nice celebration your husband has thrown for you,” Coriolanus nods his head at you as you try and refrain from scoffing out loud. “How much did he take from the bank this time-“ “What do you want from us?” You cut him off sharply, getting agitated by the second.
He opens his mouth, but you beat him to it. “What do you know about my Husband, Mr. Snow.” You sigh, walking over to the bathroom bench whilst pulling a joint and a lighter from the cups of your dress. Coriolanus eyes widen the slightest when he sees you lighting the blunt.
You raise an eyebrow at him, inhaling the toxic smoke before exhaling, “What? Never seen a woman smoke before? Want a hit, Snow?” You chuckle, leaning your head back against the mirror, your hand with the blunt reached out towards him.
You don’t know why you exposed yourself in front of Coriolanus when only Flint and the servants at home knew you would smoke from time to time. For some twisted, odd reason, he brought comfort to you.
Coriolanus could feel his eye twitching at the sight. He had never seen a woman, of your kind, smoking. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on even the slightest. The way your pretty lips wrapped around the joint brought his mind to filthy places.
His eyes go over your body, head to toe, his eyes lingering on your exposed leg with the slit. You catch him staring as Coriolanus clears his throat.
“I know your circumstances,” He finally speaks, “Oh?” Coriolanus wets his bottom lip, “His businesses are falling, and he’s about to be bankrupt. Soon, you’ll lose everything to your name.” You stare at the man. How he knows about this boggled your mind. Coriolanus Snow was many things, but you didn’t quite take him for someone who spent his time keeping an eye on someone like your Husband.
“I know,” You say, close to whisper as you flick the ash from the end of the joint into the sink. Coryo was stunned to say the least. He was practically sure that you had no idea about it, though it would make sense that you would since he was your husband.
But you didn’t seem fazed one bit. Flint’s businesses have been plummeting for well over 6 months now, and yet you would always appear at every event dressed in extravagant, expensive clothing. You walked around as if nothing was happening, fake it ‘till you make it I guess.
But in truth, you were far from being okay in the inside. “Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is to ask for money from my own family because my Husband can’t afford to take care of my needs?” You furrow your eyebrows as you inspect the joint in between your fingers.
Coryo moves close to you, his body leaned up against the wall. “Who would’ve thought, If I knew Flint would end up bankrupt and be a horrible businessman, I would’ve knocked abit more sense into my parents.” You chuckle as Coryo joins.
“So, what was the point of wanting to see me?” You look up at him. “You don’t deserve to live like this, knowing soon you’ll lose everything to your name. The Capitol won’t be very kind to you Y/n, or your parents.” He points out. And you knew that he was right. A Y/l/n, stripped from wealth and privilege. That would go down in the history books.
“Do you know why I came back?” Coriolanus meets your eyes as you shook your head, “I didn’t even know you came back until today,” You admit as one corner of his mouth upturns.
“Let’s just say, I have a very bright future ahead of me,” He chuckles, his gaze on the floor as you listen. “And I need someone by my side, I can’t be the only one to bask in wealth and authority,” His gaze lands on you as you stare out in front of you, occasionally bringing the joint to your lips.
“Someone by your side? Like who?” You played dumb when you knew damn well Coriolanus meant you. Why wouldn’t he. “Don’t act dumb on me know Y/n,” He smirks, “You were born to be in the public eye, live in lavish houses, wear only the finest clothes and jewelry, power. It’s basically your birthright, am I wrong?”
Coriolanus moves to stand in between your legs as you look up at him through your lashes. His eyes lingered on your chest as he had a perfect view of them, the way they were practically pooling out of your top. You take one final hit before stubbing out the joint, and sit up to close the distance between the two of you.
His offer was enticing. The lords have answered your prayers. “You’re not wrong, but there’s just one tiny little problem.” You bite your lip lightly, wondering if you should even point it out because Coriolanus would already know. “My husband. Something that tragic would have to happen to leave me, single. If I divorced him later on, I’m afraid it would be too late,” You flicker your eyes to Coriolanus who wore a small smirk on his lips.
“Very tragic, my dear,” He lifts your chin up before dropping his head and capturing your lips with his into a deep kiss. When knews came that your Husband had mysteriously died, you immediately went to see Coriolanus. When he looks at you from his chair as you stand infront of him, a victories smile is etched onto his face, “Snow lands on top,” He voices out, his hand reaching out to you.
You gladly take his hand and sit on his lap, “Snow lands on top,” You echo, smiling against his lips before kissing him.
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rumisgf · 5 months
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“F.R.E.A.K” DENKI KAMINARI X BLACK!READER
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summary: everybody thinks denki’s girlfriend is so sweet and so innocent. but i mean, you’re dating denki, they should know better. especially after parties, they’d be baffled by the things you two do once you get home.
includes: very little plot, unprotected sex (reader’s on birth control), corruption kink, slight perv!denki, dom!denki, sub!reader, daddy kink, college!au, lots of dirty talk
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birthday parties are good for two reasons: one of them is that you get to spend time with the people who you cherish and celebrate your friends together as a group. importantly, though, the other reason,
is that denki gets to take you home and finally let out his pent up sexual frustration.
the way your bodycon miniskirt perfectly outlines your curves and has your ass sitting just right, the softness of your exposed legs, it’s just too much for him.
but, you could say the same for yourself. when kaminari gets all dressed up, he looks so good.
“mhm, move this for me baby.” he says as he’s tugging on your skirt. he lifted you up while making out with you as soon as you both stepped through the door, and practically rushed to the bed. you pull up your skirt enough to expose your already wet core, and he nearly drools at the sight. he wastes no time kissing down your stomach, occasionally biting and sucking on the flesh and earning sweet whimpers escaping your lips. “so fuckin’ pretty.. all mine.”
you moan as he kisses your sensitive cunt through your panties. “p-please…” you whine under his touch. “i know baby, i got you.” he smiles before sliding your underwear off in no time, relishing in how much of a mess you made in them before he even touched you. “look at you… ain’t even touch you yet. this all f’ me?” he says, slowly toying with your clit. “yess… fuck~” you throw your head back in pure bliss.
you never were willing to be this weak for somebody to where they can say such dirty things to you and you’re so turned on by it. and denki knows this very well. he’s ruined you, and he’s very proud of himself. ever since he started dating you, one of his goals was to successfully slut you out.
he laps and sucks at your soaking pussy, humming into your core in response to the lewd, pornographic moans coming at your mouth. and it’s when you slip out “daddy…s-so good..” he can physically feel his dick trying to rip out his pants. in a few more minutes, you’re creaming all over his tongue and he makes sure to lick all of you up.
scooting back up, he licks his fingers to swallow up any of your arousal left on them. “turn around.” he usually isn’t so demanding, but tonight was different. and you’re definitely not complaining. you get on all fours in front of him and arch your back. “yeah like that, good girl…” he says, breathless at the sight of you bent over for him like he hasn’t seen it 1,000 times. he places a harsh slap on your ass, making you gasp.
he frantically kicks off his pants and pulls down his boxers, his rock hard dick springing out of them. he slowly slides into you, moaning at your warm walls hugging him tight. “fuck- tight as shit baby..” he pumps into you, giving you deep strokes. it doesn’t take him long to hit your sensitive spot, and you moan out as you bury your head into the pillow. “take it mama, c’mon.”
“fuck daddy, s’ so big!” you cry as he picks up the pace. he grabs your hips and pushes you all the way back onto him, making you feel him deeper. “yeah c’mere, c’mere mama… take that shit.” your toes curl and the squelching noise coming from denki fucking your soaking cunt takes over the room. “f-fuck, fuck me please!”
he pants from behind you, a smirk plastering his face. “so fucking wet… you love this dick, don’t you? mmm fuck- creaming all over me, baby~” he cooes, his hand squeezing one of your ass cheeks. “y- fuck- yes daddy…love this dick so much!” you say through moans, gripping the sheets for mercy. “that’s right… such a good girl. who’s pussy is this?”
it’s such a lewd question, and it makes you tingle whenever he asks you while he’s pounding the life out of you. you never would’ve thought you’d actually get wet from somebody asking you, but here you are about to cum all over his dick just by hearing him say it to you. “yours, s’ all yours daddy~”
“good little slut… that’s right, this daddy’s pussy.” he smacks your ass, triggering the knot in your stomach to nearly come undone. “f-fuck ‘m gonna cum~!” you start whimpering, and he only thrusts deeper into you. “mhm, cum for me- ah shit- want you to make a mess for me, baby.” in a few seconds, you’re creaming all over his dick, screaming his name like a prayer and the sound of him fucking you becoming so loud, and so dirty. he moans as your walls clench around him, barely keeping himself together. “yeahhh, good girl..”
he pulls out and lays you down on your back, pumping himself in his hand. “one more?” he asks softly, almost as if he didn’t just say he owns your pussy. you nod with a smile, half lidded and dazed. he smiles back and laughs “that’s my good girl.” in no time, he grabs his length and slides into you with such ease. “oh my god-!”
he moans in complete bliss, reveling in your wetness. he once again starts pounding into you and your eyes squint in pleasure. “mmph! d-daddy!” you look at his with needy eyes. “i- fuck- i know, princess, i know.” he says as he almost feels bad, but he can’t. not when you’re squeezing him so tight and by the way your slick is painting his dick he knows how much you love it. “taking me so well, mama. so good for me..”
he buries his face into your neck as you cry about how you’re “so close~” and he’s “so big..” and you walls flutter around him as he fucks you. finally, you let go once more and sing out for him in his ear. that alone causes his thrusts to become sloppy and he grips onto your thighs. “fuck baby ‘m cumming, mmph!” he buries himself deep inside you, filling you up to the brim.
you both take a minute to catch your breath and he lifts up his head, smiling stupidly at you. his hand caresses your cheek as he innocently kisses you on the nose.
“…i really turned you into a slut, huh?”
“shut up!”
@ rumisgf
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year
Text
Yan Cheater + Cheater Reader
Yan Cheaters are funny lemme try-
Yan Cheater who sees their darling dearest out on the town alone. You should be with them, but they'll fix that shortly. You're the person of their dreams and after so many failed relationships they're happy to find the right one. On their way over, their entire world crumbles as you're seen hugging and chatting up some random with a closeness you've never showed them. The unfamiliar face slings an arm around your shoulder as you walk off together - laughing as if you were without guilt.
You heartless bitch. How could you? After they'd give you their heart - their everything. Fine, fuck you - they could do the same thing. After crying through the night and crying their eyes they hit up a past fling to forget all about you; aggravated that all they can think of as the look at their partner is features that remind them of you. They ignore your calls, block you on everything, and have the time of their life with whoever's available... And looks like you.
The first time you saw them with someone else you turned tail and ran, saving your tears for a better time and person. Good - run off. You know what you did. They won't chase you - no matter how red their heart bleeds after seeing you after so long. You meet again at a party a mutual friend left in the dark was throwing. You, for closure - them, looking for a new body to take home. They couldn't even hide their disgust as you stomped up to them, two lockets in hand.
"What the hell did I do to you...."
They scoff. Trying to play innocent? "You know what you did."
"No! No I don't! You ghost me for weeks and never seem to be home when I try to talk to you, but the second I see you, you have your arm around somebody else. As far I remember, we were happy together. What did I do to you to deserve this?!"
"Hm... I think it was roughly a month ago. You and that little whore you met outside that coffee shop that just opened."
"Coffee shop?... Wha-" Your eyes widen. Unable to control your anger, you slap them across the face so hard the blow rattles in their teeth. They clutch their jaw. You little-
"That was my cousin, asshole!"
You toss the necklaces to the ground, two sets of initials engraved on their fronts.
"You didn't even bother to ask me about it before you ran off. If you really loved me, you wouldn't say something instead of jumping to conclusions. I knew dating you was a mistake. You spineless coward."
Their tongue feels heavy, likely cut on their teeth from your blow - bleeding; just like the heart they thought they lost. In a way - they truly had.
"Couldn't get a refund since they were custom" You spit on the fallen jewelry as you turn your back to them. "Happy Anniversary."
They fall to their knees, crawling after you as you fall into the crowd - grabbing your ankle. "No, baby. Please, baby - I fucked up bad, I know, but I can make this up to you. Sweetheart please - I'll delete everyone in my phone right now, even my parents. You'll be the only one. You're all I need. Baby, see? I'm doing it - look. Look at me - I'm sorry. Angel? Honey? D- don't leave me... DON'T LEAVE ME."
You have to change your phone number the very next day from all the calls you receive from the burner phones they purchased that same night to speak their part. Jobs too - as they stand outside and harass customers since your boss refused to let them in by your own wishes - accusing everyone of trying to take you away from them. You return home one day to find your front door unlocked and before you can realize the danger you step inside - your ex waiting with a carbon copy of every gift you threw out and wearing everything you ever gave them.
"Darling... I'm wearing that shirt you bought me last Christmas. I honestly thought it was hideous - but...it came from you. I'm wearing that hoodie you thought you lost too. I lied because I wanted to have something that smells like you to keep. It doesn't smell much like you anymore. Only my tears. I'm sorry - I won't ever lie to you again. You're perfect. My sweet angel. Please...give me a second chance. I don't know what I'll do if you don't."
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emilys-bangs · 2 days
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The last thing you reblogged gave me an idea !
Touch starved Emily who is friends with you but would never dare ask you for unnecessary hugs etc., you two are close but she doesn’t want to cross that bridge since she definitely likes you a lot more than just a friend and also she’s scared of being so open and vulnerable that she admits she needs a hug and a cuddle.
You two are on a case once again, end up rooming together and there’s only one bed. You both don't really mind and go to sleep, each one on their respective side of the bed - except when you wake up in the middle of the night, Emily is cuddled around you, having subconsciously seeked your touch while she’s asleep.
You can decide how to go from there if this idea is any good to you, no worries if not and I hope you have a great week 😘😘
Tysm for requesting, I hope you have a great week as well! I sincerely thank that one post about touch starved Emily that made us all go insane <3
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Midas touch | emily prentiss x reader
Tags: touch starved Emily, room sharing, bed sharing, fluff, a ridiculous amount of yearning
Word count: 2.5k
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You’d have to be blind not to notice Emily’s affinity for touch.
It’s something you’ve picked up on after a mere week in the BAU, and honestly, you’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like she craves touch, physically needs the added comfort of hands wrapping around elbows, arms slung across shoulders and casual side-hugs. In the more lax confines of Rossi’s living room or o’keefe’s, it’s not unusual to see her wrapped around somebody, or at least closely sharing what’s meant to be personal space. 
At work, however, it’s different; a bit more subtle, but still palpably flowing with love—the way she sneaks behind Garcia’s chair and wraps her arms around her neck in hello, Emily’s cheek pressing against the analyst’s. How she runs her fingers through Spencer’s messy curls, and how—despite his protests—he lets her, almost imperceptibly leaning into her hand before she pulls away. Her hip is frequently attached to JJ’s, their temples touching as she slides her palm into the back pocket of JJ’s jeans. Rossi is given paternal kisses on the cheek, Morgan dragged around with his hand in hers, their fingers interlocking in a weave of pale and dark. Even Hotch gets his fair share of physical affection from her, though more subtle but no less loving; a tugging at his belt loops, a nimble fixing of his tie, the brush of her fingers along his elbow.
Everyone gets a piece of Emily’s attention. 
Everyone except you.
It upsets you in ways you can’t fully explain—at least not without admitting to yourself that you’re falling deeply and helplessly in love with her. None of it remotely makes sense; despite her very deliberately withholding her touch from you, she’s been nothing but lovely, always having your back and gently correcting you when you slip up. 
But still, when an overbooked hotel forces Hotch to relay the unfortunate news of doubling up and she turns to you, surprise renders you silent. 
“Me and you?” Emily asks, paying no mind to JJ next to her.
You speak through your dry throat, “Um—yeah, sure.”
Hotch places the key in your hand, glad to have one pair down. You dig it into the flesh of your palm.
“I’ll take that one, thank you.” Rossi plucks a key from Hotch’s hand and turns away, leisurely walking to the elevator as protests rise behind him.
Hotch shakes his head, exasperated. You almost feel sorry for him. “Morgan?” He says, looking at him. Morgan nods, which leaves JJ with Reid.
Reid looks pleased; JJ less so, but she doesn’t protest as she takes the key from Hotch.
“Aww, good luck, pretty girl.” Emily coos, cupping JJ’s cheek and tapping it playfully. Jealousy stirs in your stomach, hot and acidic as JJ shrugs off her hand with an eye roll, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
The key is in your hand so you turn on your heel, a bad taste in your mouth as Reid starts to protest, the sound getting lost somewhere between Emily’s soft laughs.
She knows them longer than she knows you, you think as you take the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the beating of your heart. Your somewhat blurry eyes pick out the door with the matching number on your key. Your legs take you to it, almost on autopilot.
“Hey, wait up,” Emily’s voice carries, reaching you in a cloud of spun silk. There’s a rush of air behind you and you feel her creeping over your shoulder, the scent of her perfume choking you sweetly. “You don’t want me to sleep in the hall, do you?”
You can’t bring yourself to rise to the teasing in her voice. Fitting the key in the lock with unsteady fingers, you mumble, “Would’a let you in if you’d knocked.”
But trying to keep your distance doesn’t work, because the one bed in the room glares at you as soon as you push the door open.
Your throat goes dry. 
Emily hovers impatiently at your back and you swallow as you take a step into the threshold of the room, wondering how the hell she’d share a bed with you when she seems reluctant to touch you in the first place.
Panicked, you take your bag and head into the bathroom before Emily can say anything, desperately needing a moment to compose yourself. It’s safe to say you spend more time in there than you usually would, lengthening your short routine to busy yourself.
Only when you’ve semi-calmed down do you go out, finding her perched on the edge of the large—king sized, at least—bed.
“Hey. Are you okay with this?” Emily’s eyes are wide and dark, shining with concern. 
There’s no place for you to sleep anyway if you said no, but somehow you get the feeling she’d make it work if you were uncomfortable. A confused rush of emotion runs hot under your skin; lingering jealousy and ever present bitterness and confusing pleasure at her concern.
God, you need to go to bed.
“I’m fine with it,” you force a smile. It must not be very convincing, because Emily frowns, a delicate pull drawing her brows together. Just before she says something, you speak. “Are you okay with it?”
That snaps her out of it. “Yeah,” Emily murmurs, a dimple winking at you as she gives you a small smile, “as long as you don’t kick.”
You didn’t expect her to agree so easily. Some part of you wonders if she’s lying, but you can’t look at her eyes long enough to decipher that—you’re mildly afraid if you sunk into their depths you’d never be able to claw your way out.
“I haven’t had any complaints,” you try to shrug casually. “Do you prefer a side?”
“No, go ahead. It doesn’t matter what side I sleep on, I always somehow find my way in the middle.”
That makes you crack a smile.
The bathroom door clicks shut behind her and you press your knuckles into your eyes, wondering if you can possibly get through this night without losing your already delicate composure.
It’s just a bed, you tell yourself as you take out a pair of sweatpants to serve as pajamas. And it’s just for one night. It’s fine.
It’s fine. Sure it is.
You’re already in bed and beneath the sheets when Emily walks out of the bathroom. It’s a mistake to look at her, because you think you’ve just fallen deeper in love.
She’s shaking her hair out from the confines of its ponytail and it falls in soft waves around her shoulders, curling at the ends where the water sprayed it. A cotton tank top gently hugs her body, and pale blue shorts skim the tops of her thighs.
She’s not wearing a bra.
You’re staring.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to share tonight,�� Emily smiles sheepishly as she lifts the covers and climbs into the bed. A lump is lodged in your throat at the sight of her bare legs slipping through the sheets, shimmering softly from her lotion. It smells sweet, she smells sweet—like warm cocoa butter—and it takes everything in you not to inhale deeply like a creep.
“Neither was I.” You croak. Emily settles her head on her pillow and you try not to stare at her lashes, so naturally long and thick even without her usual mascara.
She’s literally going to be the death of you.
“G’night,” you mumble and turn away before she can answer. The heat in your cheeks burns, and you dig them into the pillow in hopes of cooling them down.
“Night,” Emily whispers back. The sheets rustle as she presumably turns, too.
Needless to say, it takes a while for you to fall asleep. 
It must happen at some point, though, because something wakes you. You open your eyes to the darkness of the room, unsure what it is. You just know that you’re abnormally warm and trapped beneath something smelling like cocoa butter.
Emily.
Your sluggish brain slowly puts the pieces together. Her arm is around your neck, cutting across your chest; her thigh is hitched over your hip. Cold fingertips are hooked into the collar of your t-shirt and you shiver despite the warmth of your own body. Slow breaths puff across your neck, warm and even.
Briefly, you think you’re dreaming, but just as quickly that thought dissipates. She’s too real, too warm—and anyway your imagination could never come up with something as divine as this.
You’re not completely innocent either. Your arm is hooked around her waist, your skin directly touching the warm skin of her waist. Her tank top has risen up and your blurry eyes catch a tattoo on her hipbone; a faded butterfly.
You should let her go. 
It’s an internal battle, because she fits there, perfectly, and even though you know it’s wrong, you close your eyes and continue holding her. 
It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. She doesn’t want your touch. She’s made that perfectly clear, but her warm body, the soft tickle of her hair, they cloud your senses, fog your brain and hide all traces of reason or sensibility.
But still, half asleep or not, you can’t betray her trust like this.
You’re just about to force yourself to let go when Emily snuggles closer, a long sigh escaping through her nose. Her lashes tickle your skin, wispy and light across your neck as she nestles into your collarbone.
Fuck.
You hold still and wait for her to move again. She doesn’t, other than the steady rise and fall of her chest, so you close your eyes too. You would’ve thought it would be difficult to fall asleep with almost every inch of her body touching every inch of yours, but you’re encompassed in warmth and softness and the scent of cocoa butter. 
Really, it only takes a minute before you’re asleep again.
———
She’s still in your arms when you wake up. Your alarm didn’t ring yet—it must’ve been a combination of Emily’s warmth and your internal clock that woke you up.
Her head is now on your pillow, one of her knees slotted between yours and her arm around your waist. She’s like a clingy koala, even in her sleep, and it only makes your heart ache.
Through the blurriness in your vision you see the small freckles that dot her cheeks. They’re tiny, almost unnoticeable, scattered over the bridge of her nose and under her swooping lashes. Her fingers tighten in your shirt and again the guilt surfaces, but it’s so slow to rise in the pale morning light, when you’re sluggish with sleep.
Emily’s eyes flutter open. 
Shit, you freeze, your muscles stiffening. 
You’re caught.
Suddenly you’re staring into dark chips of obsidian, clouds of sleep swirling through them. At first Emily gives no reaction, but then her brain evidently catches up and her eyes widen, her fingers letting go of your shirt.
Just before you apologize, she does.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts. Her voice is raspy and you fight the shiver before it travels down your spine. “I get really—”
“Clingy,” you mumble. “Yeah, I know. It’s obvious.” Your voice is soft, mainly because you’re too tired to fight with your own demons so early in the morning.
“I’m really sorry,” Emily whispers again, mortified. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink as she retracts her arm and her leg, curling back into her side of the bed. The sheets she leaves behind are warm, and you fight the urge to place your hand where she once was.
“S’okay. You do it with everyone, I know that.” Then, because it’s the morning and your brain is half asleep and still fogged from holding her, you ask, “Why not with me, though?”
Her teeth chew down on her lip. “Why not you, what?” She mumbles.
“Emily,” you sigh, “it’s too early for you to mess with my head. You know what.”
Emily gives a sigh of her own. She doesn’t look at you as she fiddles with the hem of her tank top and drags it back down, hiding the exposed sliver of her torso. It doesn’t help that your eyes follow her movements, because her shorts have ridden up her thighs.
“It means…more when it’s you.” She eventually says, her voice quiet. Your breath hitches and she continues looking down, frowning at the hem of her tank top. “Everything does. Can’t touch you like that and pretend it means nothing.”
The slight slur to her voice makes her confession all the more intimate. As does her bed head, the red sleep lines on the underside of her arm. This is a soft Emily, a vulnerable one, and she’s laying herself bare for you in the morning light while sleep still lingers in both your eyes.
It only confirms your love for her.
Your relief is palpable; it quickly shifts to affection, something flowery crowding the back of your throat and making it hard to swallow. She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t think you’re disgusting or repulsive. 
She couldn’t touch you because it would give her away. Because it’s the most genuine aspect of her, one she can’t dampen or hide any more than she can stop her heart from beating.
It seems almost too big a revelation for this small hotel room bathed in morning light. Still, your hand reaches for hers. You wrap your fingers around her own, both of them now resting gently on her stomach.
“It doesn’t have to mean nothing.” You whisper.
Emily’s eyes snap to yours. They’re like the black, bitter coffee you have no choice but knock back in precincts all over the country. They make your heart race, because they come closer—she comes closer—until both your heads are resting on the same pillow again. Emily cups your joint hands with her free one, reverently protecting the tenderness of your touch.
“You’re…” Her breath hitches and she falters, then sucks in a breath, “You’re telling me you want this?”
You squeeze her fingers. “More than anything.”
Emily blows out a low sigh. You bring your free hand up to trace the curve of her brow; she leans into it. “I do, too.” She confesses. “More than anything.”
Your thumb travels down to the corner of her mouth. “Then there’s nothing stopping us. Is there?” You ask gently.
“No.” Emily sighs. “Nothing.”
She tilts her head, lets you continue exploring her face with your fingertips. Her features are gently traced; the bridge of her nose and the outline of her lips and the shape of her brows. Slowly, her knee worms its way between both of yours.
You smile and Emily smiles back, a shy dimple in her cheek. 
“Be clingy. With me,” you murmur, keeping your voice low because you’re afraid love already spills from it, “I want you to be.”
Her nose nuzzles into your cheek. “You’ll soon regret saying that.” Emily mumbles, the vibration of her voice reverberating through your skin. It fills you with strange peace.
“Never.” You whisper.
Until the alarm rings, the two of you spend your time erasing away the boundaries, learning the lines of each other’s bodies with your fingertips with slow confidence.
Because now, you have all the time in the world.
taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism
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xoxoch3rry · 2 years
Text
Murdering my girlfriend prank - Colby Brock
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(NOT MY GIF)
NOT EDITED!!
Colby Brock x fem!reader
Warnings: Violence, Murder (fake obvi), fake blood, and curse words.
Summary: You and Colby decide to prank his roommates by making them think he murdered you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
"Wassup guys, it's Colby Brock here, Welcome back to my channel. So today I'm going to be doing the murdering my girlfriend prank on my roommates." "So basically me and my girlfriend Y/N are going to be ''getting in a fight'' and I'm going to kill her" Colby laughed looking at me. "But the objective is not actually to kill me but just to make your roommates think that you killed me" I looked at the camera.
"Right so let's begin" he smirked at the camera. "Ok, so I just went and checked and everybody is currently downstairs right now." I smiled, walking back into Colby's room and watching him set up the camera. "Alright so I have this glass cup that I'm going to throw to make it sound like things are being thrown around, Y/N and I are going to scream and yell at each other, and then it's going to go quiet, and then we're going to put the fake blood on her" Colby look at the camera nervously.
"I think I'm gonna go downstairs, and I'm gonna cry while I'm down there, but I'm also gonna set up a camera, so yeah. Also, I'm doing an acting class right now so this is gonna be practice" I smile into the camera while walking down the hall and towards the steps. I start to focus on letting the tears fall down my face while I had the camera at my side. I walked into the kitchen and saw Devyn and Kat sitting on the counter talking to each other, with the rest of the surrounding boys all taking shots.
"Hey, Y/N you okay?" Devyn asked, making everyone look at me. "Yeah, I'm fine" I faked a smile while looking down at the ground. "Are you sure you're okay Y/N" Jake stared at me "mhm" I opened the fridge grabbed a bottle of water and walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway to set up the camera. I laughed while setting up the camera on the floor under a blanket. I stepped back to look to see if the camera was noticeable. It wasn't.
I ran back up the stairs to tell Colby that we can start. "Ok, we can start" I smiled at him as I opened his door. I hugged Colby tight while taking in a deep breath of air. "I love you and I want to make sure you win this prank war" I smiled looking up at him. He leaned down and planted a kiss on my lips, "I love you" was all he said as he pushed me back onto his bed and started yelling at me.
"WHAT THE FUCK Y/N" Colby yelled loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. "I'm sorry" I cried out "I didn't mean to ok, it was just a mistake" I cried letting the tears form in my eyes. "Keep going" I whispered to Colby as he looked like a wanted to stop seeing me about to cry. He nodded. Counting to yell, "YOU FUCKED ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS!"
"It was a mistake, ok". Please, Colby, please listen to me" He picked up the glass and threw it on the floor as I screamed out from the shock of the glass shattering all over the floor. I moved some of the glass out of the way and lay on the floor covering myself in fake blood "Colby stop Colby" I screamed at the top of my lungs "Somebody help me please" I cried out "SHUT THE FUCK UP" Colby yelled as he banged on the wall with his hands as I continued to scream then stop. I heard people running up the stairs, and down the hallway.
"Colby, open the door" Sam yelled out as he tried to open the door, but it was locked. "Y/N" Kat screamed out "Y/N please open the door." "COLBY, OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW MAN" Jake yelled out. I smiled at Colby as I put some of the blood that was on me onto his clothes and face. I closed my eyes as he got up and walked over to his door. He took a deep breath as he unlocked it and barely opened it to where they couldn't see inside the room. "What?" he asked looking at his roommates, "Is Y/N ok?" Kat and Devyn asked at the same time. Colby didn't answer as he looked to the side of him, "oh my god" Kat said looking at the blood on his clothes.
Jake and Sam's eyes follow where Kat was looking. Jake shoves the door open, making Colby stumble out of the way. "OH MY GOD" Kat screamed out, falling to her knees and crying. "Holy shit," Sam said, placing his hands on his face, "Colby, what did you do?" Sam asked, looking at Colby. "I don't know man, it just happened," He said, stumbling over my body and over to his couch, taking a seat. "I didn't mean for this to happen" Colby cried out, tears falling down his face.
"What the fuck happened?" Jake asked, walking over to me and kneeling to look at me. "We got into an um f-fight and I just got so mad a-and I wasn't thinking and i-i just, I didn't mean for this to happen" Colby cried. "We have to call 911" Devyn cried, hugging Kat. "NO, NO, we can't". "Why not Colby" Kat asked looking at him with tears in her eyes. "Because um... It's A PRANK" he laughed out, wiping his tears. I laughed turning to look at Jake as he just scoffed and got up "NOT COOL MAN, not cool" he looked at Colby as he ran to get the camera.
"Oh, my god, Y/N I thought Colby actually killed you" Kat and Devyn hugged me. "Aww you guys care about me" I hugged them back. "Man, I thought I was gonna have to help you cover up a murder." Sam laughed with Colby.
"Thank you guys so much for watching today's video, if you liked or want to see more videos like this make sure you like, comment, and subscribe". "Yeah, we got 'em" I yelled into the camera still covered in blood.
After the video was over, Colby hugged me so tight I could barely breathe, "Are you actually trying to kill me" I laughed looking up at him. He laughed leaning down to kiss me on the lips "I'm sorry for yelling at you" he said as he broke away from the kiss "It's okay, but you do have fantastic acting skills" I looked up at him "I learned from the best" I hugged him even tighter burning my face into his chest.
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grugruel · 5 months
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I am-- in DESPERATE need of Prewar cooper Howard FILTHY smut. Taking his Co-star in his trailer on set on a hot summer's day and they're both sweaty and needy and he's got a FILTHY mouth on him. maybe she plays the damsel in distress and he can't get over how good she looks all tied up 🔥 she definitely enjoys teasing him but takes it too far,, poor cooper 😔😏
Yessss, currently feeling feral, so this was perfect. Did my best, hope you love it🫶
Quiet on set
Pairings: pre-war!Cooper Howard x f!reader
NSFW/MDNI
Masterlist
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Summary: wrapping yet another movie together, these co-stars take out their constant tension in Coopers trailer.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: (acted violence and death), pinv sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, edging, lap-riding, cowgirl, doggy, bratty reader, petnames (sweetheart, princess, girl, woman), praise, slight degradation, choking (blink and you'll miss it).
AN: Currently working through my requests, it might take some time for those of you that sent them in! But I appreciate you all, thank you!!
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I could feel that heavy, star-studded aura bearing it's weight down on me, his eyes ransacking every part of my body as he awaited his cue. Through the blinding stage lights, just out off frame, he stood hungry, hands white-knuckling his belt and teeth sinkong into his bottom lip.
'Help! Somebody please save me!' I cried out, the rattling railroad tracks cool beneath my body. The air stuffy and clammy, the mid summer heat penetrating the studio walls. Truly making the desert set come alive.
Enter The Man from Deadhorse, walking into the picture with his signature gait, spurs jingling and eyes acting as he stared my captor down. Heat practically burning in his gaze when he delivered the infamouse line, "Feo, fuerty, y formal."
Although, a growing suspicion resided–perhaps it was not acting at all, but rather me, that had him ignite that way.
The bang of a revolver shot out, hitting the antagonist right between the eyes as a result of an experienced and deadly aim.
Dignified indeed.
I yelped, making my eyes big with shock. 'You came!' And then let a relived smile soften my expression.
The sound of a charging train began rolling, a billowing steam engine and a piping whistle thundering along a busy railroad. But it was no worry anymore, I was to be saved.
The sheriff's attention–his starved eyes, switched to me, and my bound form.
Swiftly, he moved over the dusty desert set in his blue and yellow getup. In a second of harrowing anticipation, placed in clever calculation to have the viewers at the edge of their seats, he loomed over me, that infamous gaze following every curve of my body. The rope circling me in such a way it accentuated my goods, and what the cameras did not see, was a ravenous smirk on the hero's lips–holding a silent promise ment only for me.
In a flashy movement, he cut the rope from my body and pulled me off of the tracks and into his embrace, the camera panning to us as the sound of the train just missing our bodies passed by the frame.
'Don't worry sweetheart, you're safe now.' He purred, voice drawling with that trademark smile accenting his lips, lips that only a second later collided with my own in a strong, righteous kiss-
'CUT!' A voice bellowed, and the set bustled to life with congratualations and handshakes as they were traded between the crew and cast, celebrating yet another wrap.
But his lips had stayed on mine for a second or two too long, and I had to pull away. Gasping for air, pretending that we simply hadn't heard the call over the ruckus.
'My trailer in 10 minutes, honey. Don't be late. . . I got a surprise for you.' He whispered in my ear, disguising our continued embrace as a friendly, celebrating hug. A hug with a condensed, slap off the ass–hard enough to sting, quiet enough to go undetected.
And with a wink, he was off. Chatting and laughing while coworkers patted his back with him returning the gesture. Meanwhile I myself became wrapped up in party-ready colleagues of my own. But the partying would have to wait, I had somewhere far more fulfilling to be.
I hadent been able to keep the 10 minute mark, the cast and crew had stuck around for longer than I'd thought. Which made sneaking to his trailer all the more difficult, but I managed. Eventually.
I opened the door to a dark, even hotter cabin, no movement or noise that I could detect. But the second I shut that door behind me, he revealed himself.
'There you are. . .' A low voice growled from the shadows. Then there was a sound of groaning threads, a woosh, and I was captured. A lasso had been thrown around my body, pinning my arms to my sides as I was blindly pulled into the depths of the darkness, and collided with something, strong, something hard. 'You kept me waitin' princess. Fame gone to your head already?' The words were breathed against my cheek, puffs of his sultry breath warming my already damp skin deliciously.
'I imagine I'll be on your level soon.' I hooked my index fingers through his belt loops, eyes adjusting to the dark as I pullied him closer with what little movement I was allowed. 'Now, I want my surprise.' I pouted, brushing my lips along his, the features of his face clearing up like the sea after a storm.
'This is it.' He flexed the rope between his fingers, feeling its coarse texture. Taking my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged.
'My surprise is a . . . rope?' I could't hide the sound of disappointment from my voice. 'Should I start playing the damsel now or? Oh. . . Please Sheriff, save me!' I mocked.
'Well yes, the rope is you're surprise.' He paused. 'Now, what makes you so sure I'll play the sheriff, huh?' He tightened the rope around me to emphasize. 'Perhaps I captured you.'
'Oh?' I was truly intrigued, but sighed an overly dramatic sigh, just cause I was hoping it'd get a rise out of him. 'C'mon now, cowboy. You can do better than that–thought I was your special girl.' I teased, eyeing his dark form through my lashes as I used his own words against him.
He nudged his nose against my cheek, his lips moving into a grin along my jaw. 'You are my special girl. . .' He confirmed, voice gravely as he pressed his hips against mine, letting me feel the hardness beneath his pants. '. . .and my special girl will be fucking pleadin' when this rope has served its purpose.' The lasso was thrown into serveral more circles around my upper body, wrapping me tighter as he imitated what he'd seen on set.
'That a threat?' I groaned, his stiffness rubbing against my mound. Creating friction so wonderful I found my hips automatically flexing against his. More. I needed more.
'A promise.' He fell back onto a couch. 'You'd better start ridin' before I put that big mouth of yours to better use.' He tugged on the lasso, helping me fall into position stradeling his lap.
I settled with a whimper, my core veiled by the thin fabric of my skirt as it made direct contact with his clothed member. But with the way I was bound, he'd restricted my arms further, they were unmovable infact. I couldn't support myself, couldn't unbutton his pants. 'Can't reach. . .' I whined, frustrated that I couldn't get his fucking dick out.
He hummed. 'Mmm, serves you right, dont it?' He pulled my skirt over my hips, and grasped the rope around my waist, making a point of not touching me as he pushed me downward and pulled forward, grinding my core against the coarse fabric of his pants. 'Now, ride.' He growled, the friction affecting him as much as me. For I had a simular reaction, if not worse.
The air was sucked right out of me, but I did as he ordered. Grinding my hips into his lap, over and over again, moaning curses left and right. But however much I tried I couldn't losen my restraints, couldn't get a grip on any part of him to work myself harder against him. I was stuck in a rut of superficial pleasure, with his occasional torturing tug. I just wanted to feel him, his touch, on me, in me. I didn't care, juat somewhere.
'Touch me.' I whispered, my head lulling against his shoulder as I desperatley tried increasing the friction.
He hummed, a breathy and guttural sound as he replied, 'Starvin' already?' He leaned closer, mouth hovering just above that sweet spot on my neck.
'Yes, yes.' I placed a kiss on his throat, grateful for what he was about to bestow me-
My button-down blouse was ripped open, buttons flying everywhere with a loud clatter as they hit the floor, the expensive prop ruined too quickly. 'Plead.' His rough knuckles brushed over the beginning of my breast, as they were now bare for him.
I gasped, 'What?' lust driven confusion clouding my mind. The stifling heat didn't help my mind to clear either.
'Plead, sweetheart.' He repeated, his murmur vibrating against my skin.
It was my turn to grin, my turn to drag my exposed teeth along his jugular, my lips closing around them as I kissed his jaw tenderly. 'I dont think so.' I purred, readying myself to stand up. 'Guess I'll have to find some other man the sate my needs.' I licked a stripe along his jaw before sitting back. 'My very, very. . . Slick needs.' And scootched back, leaving a wet inprint on the convex bulge of his jeans.
But before I could do anything too drastic, he grabbed my waist, he touched me, and pulled me back into a perch. A small victory for me, but the battle wast over yet. Now, our heads leveled with eachother. 'Don't you dare.' The jealousy was evident in his tone. 'Filthy little brat. . .' He hissed, 'I can play that game too, sweetheart.' He began unbuttoning his pants with the other hand, pulling his erect member out.
And drool dripped from my mouth as I got a good view of it, but he didn't lift me up and enter me, no. That would be too merciful. He simply pushed my undergarments to the side and pulled me closer, my slick cunt sliding over his length, wetting it as he let me feel the size of him, what I could get, but wasn't allowed. 'You aint to only woman in this cast.' His mouth trailed downward, lips following the valley between my breasts, the tip of his nose and chin collecting droplets of sweat along my skin.
His words stung, and even though I knew he only said them to rile me up, they worked. I didn't answer him, didn't deign to give him any words, but carefully began moving my hips instead, easing them into a slow rocking, and the few seconds I got were jaw dropping. I hoped he somehow just wouldn't notice, foolishly enough.
He hardened his grip, holding me steady, unmovable, as if he'd bound my lower body together aswell. 'Naughty fucking brat.' He leered.
Fuck, I just needed something, anything. The aching was building within me, unadultered want for pleasure. Pleasure which only he could give me.
'Fuck. Me.' It was an order, no sign of begging in my tone.
'Plead for me, woman.' He dragged the word out, chuckling. That ravenous grin on his lips he nipped at the soft flesh of my breast.
'Cocky bastard.' I scoffed, but yielded. 'Please. Fuck. Me.' But there was no weight behind them, the words fighting to stay in my mouth, coming out strained.
He cocked his head to the side, eyes searching my own as amusement filled them. 'C'mon now, you can do better than that.' He threw my words back at me.
But the desperation was seeping through my skin, into my quaking muscles and quivering bones. 'Please, please, please. . . Fuck me, Cooper. Oh, you big, famous movie star.' I whimpered. This time, meaning every word, although some in a more mocking fashion than others.
He faced me again, grinning as he shook his head in disbelief. 'Wicked fucking woman, I'll fuck some sense into you yet.'
'I dont think you have it in you, cowboy.' It took everything in me to keep my lips from curling into a smile-
Suddenly, I found my face pushed into the soft cushions of the couch. One hand pushed me down firmer by the neck, while the other lined himself up with my entrance. He stroked the tip through my folds, teasing me torturousley slow. The aching grew so strong I thought I'd break into a million pieces right then and there. 'Please. . .' I begged, the word half a whimper. '. . .please.' I had no self restraint left, no morals or standards to keep up. I just needed him, inside me. Now.
'About, damn time.' He pushed inside of me, wasting no time by setting grueling pace that had my body shaking. Muffled moans and whimpers escaped me, there was not a thought in my mind. No room for anything but him inside me. 'Yeah? You like that? Filthy girl. . .' He groaned, his hand colliding hard with my ass. The slap ringing out through the cabin, and it was glorious.
I nodded, or did the best I could while the force of his hold constricted my movements.
He hummed again, that low titillating hum. And leaned over me, bracing himself on the forearm that held my neck. His body laying flush over mine as his hips struck into mine, deeper, harder. His lips brushed against my ear, opening his mouth to whisper-
Raised voices, approaching, shouting outside the trailer. 'Better stay quiet now, sweetheart.' He breathed, and just then, out of spite, he struck into me harder, only to see if I could keep us secret. But I wanted to scream, needed to. So, I shoved my face into the cushion, muffling my crying out.
'Thats it. . . Good girl.' He praised, moaning the words against the shell of my ear. And as the voices approached, he slowed the thrusting, keeping the depth but dimming the strength. Softening the loud lewdness of our slapping bodies. His hand slid around my front, finding me clit with easy expertice. 'Good girl.' He breathed again, kissing my earlobe. As if it was my award for doing as I was told. 'Sticking my dick in you was all I had to do to fix that attitude of yours?' His fingers began rubbing circles over my clit, stimulating my already pulsating body further.
'Yes. . .' I whimpered, 'Yes, yes, yes.' And his hand moved to my throat, placing it between my jugular and jaw, tilting my face a sliver closer to his. 'Kiss me, please.' I pleaded, and he met my lips. His hungry, hungry lips surpassing the neediness my ownas be pushed his tongue into my mouth. He tasted heavenly.
The voices had passed since long, their drunk celebrating dissapearing beyond the lot. And his thrusts grew equally hungry once again, pushing into me, hitting my spot with reverance. The pressure was building, threatening to spill over the edge with every flick of his hips. 'Close. . .' I moaned into his mouth, my breath coating his lips.
'Yeah?' He moved his lips, kissing my cheek and down my throat.
'Yeah.' I shuddered, my whimpering indicating how close I was to release. The ramping, strained breaths between us almost sent me over the edge alone, white spots flecking my lids, lightning neighing in my nerves, the wall so close to collapsing-
And he pulled out, releasing my clit and pushed himself off of me.
No, no, no, Cooper please.' I whined, the pressure dissapearing, slowly seeping out into nothingness.
'There you go, sweetheart. Now you're pleadin' properly. . .' He basked in my despair, that smug grin of his adorning his face in all it's glory. He uncircled the rope, pulled me to his chestand twisted us, making us swap positions, with me once agains tradeling him as he laid on his back below me. 'Now ride me properly too.'
Oh I was, and I would get my revenge. I pulled my blouse and skirt off, I would have him pleading and squirming when I was done with him. 'That's more like it.' His eyes ravaged my body, staying longer on my nipples and hips, and cunt. 'Pretty little brat.' His tone so self-righteous it would've made me scoff, but I played along. Snaking my body against his, I wrapped my hands around his, finally able to touch him and pinned them both above his head. Then sat up and aligned myself with his length, slowly sinking down, greedily accepting every inch as he hissed. It dulled the pain he'd left me in, his member filling me up made me whole again.
But I wasn't done yet. Leaning in, I kissed him, distracted him, and carefully grabbed the discarded lasso. He would be pleading, he would.
And after a moment I sat back up, hands on his chest. Pushing him back down as he tried to follow me. Which is when he realised, that his arms wouldn't budge.
'Mmmh. . .' He chuckled, '. . .clever girl.'
I nodded, hands tracing down his sculpted abdomen. Transfering from his body to my own, I let them roam. Moving them along my hips, waist, stumache, breasts, throat. Just watching, enjoying every second of his growing displeasure, of his twitching and leaking inside me.
'Plead, cowboy.' I sqeezed my breasts, whimpering form the feeling. 'I'd much rather have you touching me.'
His lips drew into a thin line, hips bucking into me, slithering for any movement, any stimulation. 'It must be hurting.' I murmured, 'You can end it, just plead.'
His breaths were ragged, guttural and groaning. 'Cruel, cruel woman.'
'Now you're getting it.' I smirked. 'Plead. . .'
He scoffed, eyes hard as he opened his mouth, 'Please. . .' He mustered the word through clenched teeth.
Oh it felt amazing, the word as much as his member as I began moving along it, riding him. 'Fuck.' He grunted. 'When I get loose, girl-'
I laid my index finger against his lips, shushing him. Enjoying the sound of our wet squelching, his hard breaths and my own moans. I leaned down, my body rubbing against his while I kissed his chest and made my way along his collarbone.
'Why don't you give my lips some love too, girl.' He moaned, and I figured I could give him that at least. My lips met his jaw, bushed along his lips and then-
He grabbed me, locked his arms around my torso in a grip of steel, as he thrusted into me, rocking me violently into his arms.
'You really think I've never been tied up by a lover before?' He grunted, pushing his tongue into my mouth. And just like that, the pressure was rebuilt and released, washing over me in electric waves, shocking my body and nervous system.
'Easy girl, there you go.' He held me still, pecking me with kisses wherever he reached as he let my quivering body do what it needed, he himself coming moments later with a few last thrusts. And I collapsed on top of him, the strong rise and fall of his chest helping me calm my breathing.
'Wanna go again, movie star?' I asked.
'Which position, cowgirl?' He answered.
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urfriendlywriter · 2 years
Text
fluffy prompts for characters pining on each other :)
(ackkk 8th, 9th, 10th. and omg 17th onee >\\<, feel free to use, tag meee when u writeeee <3 @urfriendlywriter )
"don't smile at me like that !"
grinning stupidly whenever they compliment you
their gaze often goes to your lips.
holding hands to comfort you
crouching to your eye level while they cup your chin, wiping your tears, "tell me what i can do for you." "stay."
"do you want to dance?" they lean against the doorframe, a pause before walking towards you with a fond smile, "if you insist."
"" I love that you are you when you are with me ""
"make me."
^ "wanna bet? i will." [IM *DEEP BREATH* *DIES*]
"if you had the guts, [name], you would have kissed me." "you think something is stopping me from doing that right now? :)"
"is that so? *subtly smirking*"
"what's your ideal type?" "you."
constantly touching. always finding reasons to touch each other.
"can you both just kiss and make up-" "*both of them* [NAME]-"
finding someone flirting with your crush, but all they have is eyes for you, and on you
"can i kiss you?" "took you so long to ask."
almost kissing. but somebody walks in. "HOLY FUCK, ABOUT TIME THIS HAPPENS! I'M SO SORRY, PLEASE CONTINUE-" they grab your jaw and kiss you infront of them.
feeling hot all over the place after the kiss ) #)'?&)%+#
"let me-- *adjusts your hair while cupping your face*--and we're good to go. shall we? :) "
the hug after the confession. the warmth it gives!!
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sajajhsbz · 1 year
Text
Jealous
Pairing: Sodo Ghoul x reader
summary: Since you joined the band, Sodo has been hostile towards you, but you would have never guessed the reason was jealousy...
warnings: Smut| fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, choking, and spanking.
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"it's not my fault y/n can't play fucking right"
"I can't play? Please Sodo you got half the fucking song wrong"
"fuck you"
"you wish"
"ok ok ok" Copia intervened "Let's all calm down a moment and take a break, alright? Sodo" He nodded to him "Go have a smoke"
A grumbled "fine" echoed off the rehearsal room as he walked off, slamming the door behind him.
"god he's such a fucking drama queen" you sighed, having a sip of your water as you sat down between Phantom and Swiss.
"he always has to shout- and always at me! I honestly don't get what I've done to make him hate me so much"
They exchanged a look, a smirk playing on their lips.
"I don't think he hates you, sweetheart"
you snorted " 'sure looks like it"
"I think it's actually quite the opposite"
"What, that he wants to fuck me?" you asked, rolling your eyes "You all do, you perverts" you teased "And if that's the case, yelling won't get him anywhere"
they chuckled "We know baby, but you know how he is..."
"yeah, an asshole"
just then the door opened, Sodo's still clearly tense figure emerging from it.
"yeah" somebody whispered in response, but you were focused on him.
Copia asked him something, but his eyes set on Swiss's hand you hadn't even noticed was placed on your thigh.
He emitted a grunt that spurt of jealousy to answer Copia, and your eyes met for just a moment.
You definitely took note of that.
__ __ __
Only you, Phantom, and Sodo were left in the rehearsal room, as always the ones taking the longest.
You laughed at a funny remark Phantom made and slapped his shoulder playfully as you finished packing your stuff.
"oh I almost forgot" you recalled "Here is your pick," you said, fishing it out of your pocket to hand it to him.
"don't worry, keep it"
"Are you sure? Didn't you have this since you were young?"
"I did, but I want you to have it"
Your lips turned into that happy pout he adored
"thank you so much!" you smiled, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight hug.
He hesitantly hugged you back
"you were always my favorite" you whispered into his ear, sensing how he shivered under you
"thank you, handsome," you said again, kissing his cheek for a moment more than necessary before letting him go.
"n-no worries" he shook his head, poorly attempting at hiding his blushing cheeks.
He picked up his things as quickly as he could before rushing to the door.
"Uh-Uh, I-I'll see you later"
"bye handsome" you chuckled, watching him scurry to his room.
A loud sigh came from your right, and you caught Sodo rolling his eyes as you turned around
"oh don't worry you're handsome too" you teased, walking to him.
"You gave the poor kid a hard-on just for fun?"
"no, not just for fun, I'll take care of it later"
And there it was, that tick of his jaw as jealousy darkened his eyes.
"what, you're jealous?"
He avoided your gaze, pretending to be busy with his guitar's chords.
"you can tell me if you are..."
"I'm not" he spat
"so you're saying you haven't thought about me that way? that you haven't fucked your fist just last night imagining it was me?" you mocked, a sly smirk playing on your lips "We have really thin walls y'know?"
"fuck off"
You let out a dramatic sigh "Fine, then I guess I'll go keep Phantom some company since you seem to have a stick up your ass" you said, walking to the door, but before you could reach it, his hand grabbed your wrist, turning you around.
"I knew it" you grinned, as he stared right into your soul with his frozen eyes.
"shut up"
you smirked, ghosting his mouth, "Make me"
And at that, he'd had enough.
he crashed his mouth with yours, devouring you as if you were a fucking meal and him a starved man.
His tongue moved into your mouth, exploring all you had to offer as his hand gripped and groped like it was their duty.
He slammed you against the door, making you wince as your head hit the hardwood, he couldn't have cared less as he finally got a taste of what he'd been dreaming about for a whole year.
He didn't know why he had refrained for so long. He hated himself for wanting you this much, and all that hate was oftentimes wrongly pointed at you.
You let out a quiet whimper as he started sucking on your neck, your hand going straight to his long hair.
"see now, it wasn't so hard" you mocked him in between breaths "You could have told me earlier that this was all you wanted"
"I thought I'd told you to shut up"
You chuckled "you did"
"God you're such a fucking brat" his hold on your waist tightened "I think you need something to keep that mouth busy" he smirked "and as much as I'd like to see you kneel before me, I don't think you've earned my cock just yet" he taunted you, seeing the way your eyes had sparked at the proposal.
His hand traveled up your body until two of his long fingers reached your bottom lip.
"Be a good girl and show me how good you'd suck my dick"
You wasted no time taking them in your mouth, closing your eyes as you pretended it was his cock.
He groaned at the sight "Just like that-" he said, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth as saliva pulled from your puffy lips.
You hadn't even noticed his other hand sneaking beneath your skirt, until you felt his thumb press to your clothed core
Your eyes snapped open as a muffled gasp attempted to flee your throat
"Yeah, I like you much better when you can't talk" he nodded, looking proud of himself.
"don't you even think about stopping" he growled, eyeing your lips as his fingers found their way inside your panties "if you do, so do I" he threatened, gathering some of your slick on his middle and ring finger and teasing your entrance with them
You moaned, but didn't need to be told twice as you resumed bobbing your head to suck on his digits.
"that's a good girl" he smirked in approval as he pushed his fingers inside of you, leaving you breathless.
"so wet for me" he murmured, kissing your neck as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling them just to the right spot "Such a good slut"
Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head with every movement of his skilled fingers, but you still tried to focus on your task, although his sucking on your neck really didn't help.
"aw, you're already coming aren't you" he cooed, feeling you tighten around him "poor baby" he continued, raising his head to look at you.
"you think you deserve to cum?" he asked, fastening his pace and causing your knees to buckle.
You eagerly nodded, giving him your best doe eyes
Yes I do, please,is what you would have said, if your mouth hadn't been so busy at the moment.
"yes? That's what you think?"
you nodded again
"We'll I don't" his movements cruelly came to a stop "all that teasing... that's not what good girls do now, do they?" he asked, his fingers leaving both your cunt and mouth.
"please" you begged, eyes suddenly teary
he chuckled "That's a sight I thought I'd never see, you begging me"
You wanted to punch him, but god, did you also want to come.
"please sodo" you prayed, bringing your hands to the tent in his pants "please" you breathed
"oh is that what you want? My cock?"
you nodded
"how come you don't use that mouth of yours when you should?"
"yes, sorry, yes, please fuck me"
"I don't know..." he taunted, but this time, you were ready to fight back.
"I know you want to" you spoke sultrily, slowly getting rid of your shirt "I know you've been dreaming about it since I first joined the band" You unhooked your bra and let it fall to your feet before slowly starting to stoke his erection "I know yo-"
You couldn't finish your sentence as he had gripped your hair, forcing your head up to look at him.
"You really are a fucking brat y'know" he grunted, suddenly turning you so that your head was pressed against the door "can't keep that mouth of yours shut for the life of you" he growled, as he undid his zipper.
His hand on your head traveled to the back of your neck, keeping you still, as his other hand gripped his cock and positioned it at your entrance.
"I'll see how you do with my cock deep inside you" he smirked, pushing into you without any warning.
"fuck" you screamed at the stretch. As much as he had gotten you ready, it still hurt deliciously.
" 'S too big for you?" he taunted, rolling his hips "I thought more of you sweetheart"
"shut up" you moaned, "just-please fucking move"
"don't have to ask twice" he snickered, as he started fucking you at a brutal pace.
"f-fuck- 'feels so-so good" you cried out, letting him use you like a doll.
You could feel him everywhere
"Yeah? Phantom makes you cry like this too, Swiss, any of the others?"
"So jealous..." you smiled, watching him from the corner of your eye.
He grunted as he slapped your ass in response "You really just can't help it, can you?" he asked, the hand on the back of your neck moving to the front of it and squeezing it tight.
A fire spread over your body, as a wave of pleasure took over you.
"look at you" he mocked "Finally fucking quiet" he murmured, bending down to whisper in your ear as his thrust didn't give signs of slowing "and all it took was my cock in your pussy and my hand around your throat" he bit your earlobe, making you cry out even louder "If I'd known, I would have done this a long time ago. Would have saved me so many headaches..."
And once again, the urge to punch him was overtaken by the need to come.
You were a mess. The only sound your throat could make were shameless moans as he pounded into you like it was his life-long duty to split you in fucking half.
"Such a good little slut for m-
A knock at the door distracted the both of you, but he didn't stop whatsoever.
"I FORGOT MY PHONE IN THERE!"
It was Swiss
"WE'RE BUSY!" Sodo yelled back, starting to fuck you harder again
"YEAH, I CAN HEAR. BUT I REALLY NEED IT"
A loud moan climbed your throat as Sodo's thumb found your clit.
You had a suspicion that was exactly his goal.
"GO THE FUCK AWAY"
"MAN C'MON I'M HAPPY YOU FINALLY FUCKED BUT I STILL NEED MY FUCKING PHONE"
You would have laughed if you hadn't been so cock drunk
"I SWEAR SWISS, IF YOU DON'T WALK AWAY RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU"
"FINE, BUT YOU OWE ME"
"WHATEVER, JUST GO!"
"I AM"
Your moans had gotten louder in the meantime, and your legs were shaking as your orgasm approached rapidly.
"Fuck- I can feel you squeezing me sweetheart" he groaned "you wanna cum?"
"Please" was all you could muster
"scream my name as loud as you fucking can, ok?"
You nodded,
"good girl" he kept his pace "Good. fucking. girl"
And at that, a wildfire ignited in your body as your orgasm took over every inch of your being.
You quite literally screamed his name as you came, and just as you started to recover from the life-changing climax, you felt him still inside of you, as thick ropes of his come filled you up to the brim.
He pulled out of you and all you could do was smile as you turned to him.
"swiss is pissed"
"yeah well, I don't give a shit, I just had the best fuck of my life"
"you'll have to make it up to him"
"I have no idea how"
"I do"
"do tell"
And at that, you giggled, as you raised yourself on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear
"we should let him join next time"
2K notes · View notes
yellowharrington · 5 months
Text
all i really want (is you) -- carmy berzatto x reader
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pairing + fandom: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader, the bear fx
word count: 3k
warnings: smut! 18+, minors pls dni. afab!reader with pullable hair, no use of y/n. light daddy kink and dom/sub undertones. spanking, exhibitionism, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected piv + creampie, reader and carmy both drink alcohol. please let me know if i missed anything :)
a/n: this is depraved. thanks @wtfsteveharrington for reigniting my need to write about carmy lmao. title is from "all i really want is you" by the marias. please leave comments or reblogs if you liked it <3
divider by @cafekitsune
summary: carmy secretly books a lake-front hotel room in chicago for your anniversary.
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Carmy would be the first to admit he’s not very good at being romantic.
He forgets, lets things slip through the cracks, time and time again. He makes up for it, and you understand of course, but he’s working on it.
When your anniversary is approaching, he knows he has to make a plan. Busy with the restaurant, the menu, the money - all of it was overwhelming, but your not-so-subtle reminder of the date gave him the idea.
“So…” you had joined him in your shared kitchen, hand brushing through his curls as he slaved over a pan sauce he’d been perfecting.
“Yes?” He wasn’t annoyed - never annoyed, by you - but in the thralls of cooking, nonetheless.
“It’s our anniversary next weekend and I was thinking we’d try out that new restaurant you were talking about. You know… the one that’s suuuuuper hard to get a reservation at?” You smiled coyly as he held out the spoon with the hot liquid on it, wordlessly asking you for a taste-test. 
“Sounds good,” he had remarked, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek and returning to the task at hand. “I’ll make a call.”
“Thank you, Carm,” you let your hands roam his clothed back as you feel the sauce between your lips and on your tongue. “That’s delicious.”
He hummed in response, as your hands drifted down to his sides and played at the hem of his t-shirt. “After our anniversary dinner I have a little… present for you.”
Before he could respond, you had slipped away to the bedroom, only flashing him a smirk before closing the door.
The weekend of your anniversary had approached quickly, and Carmy had actually managed to get everything in place. The reservation for dinner was set, his gift burning a hole in his pocket, and thoughts of what your gift to him may entail swirling around in his head. 
You walked out of your shared bedroom, adorning a black dress that hugged your body perfectly. Jewelry to match - done up just right, effortlessly perfect for the occasion. His hand came up to his mouth as he took you in, thanking whatever God above that brought you to him.
“Too much?” You asked, toying with your hair in the mirror and correcting the edge of your lipstick. 
“No,” Carmy answered, coming up behind you in the mirror and admiring your form. “Perfect.”
You felt yourself blush as he took your hand and held it to his lips, kissing your knuckles and pulling you into him. “Ready?” 
~
Dinner came and passed, shared glasses of wine between the two of you as you reminisced about past times together. Carmy had always been shy, but easy to talk to, especially when he had some time to open up. You gave him space to do that - he’d never felt more comfortable with anybody before, somebody he trusted with everything. You listened, told him what he needed to hear when he needed to hear it, and kept him in check all while supporting him from the sidelines and meshing perfectly into his insane life. He was eternally grateful for finding you.
He slides a small box across the table at dinner, and when you open it up, you gasp at what’s inside. A dainty necklace, a glossy “C” hanging on the end of it, where it would sit against your chest. 
You let his deft fingers close the tiny clasp behind your neck, the pendant hanging perfectly, glimmering in the amber candlelight of the restaurant. “You’re gonna make me cry,” you laugh through a watery smile, Carmy’s hand crossing the table to slide into yours. Warm skin against warm skin, you smile at his small display of affection, tilting your glass towards him as he clinked it with yours. 
You notice something might be up when you get back into his car, and he doesn’t take the turn off back to your shared apartment. Instead, he veers off into another lane, holding onto your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze for encouragement. 
You’re down by the water now, making a confused expression at your surroundings. City lights around you, the bustling of other people on dates or nights out, as Carmy pulls into the parking lot of a hotel. 
“What are we doing here?” You look at the people stepping into the hotel lobby, some dressed in clothing that was probably more than your rent. He wordlessly turns off his car and exits through the driver’s side, saying something to the valet before grabbing a bag out of the back seat and rounding back to your side. He opens the door for you and takes your hand, before leading you through the doors and into the grand front lobby.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling above as he took your hand and lead you to the front desk, a confused scowl still across your features. The person at the front desk waved you two over, typing something into the computer. “Good evening. Checking in?”
Carmy nods, handing over his ID and credit card before smiling down at you.
“We’re checking in?”
“Happy Anniversary.”
You have to make sure your mouth isn’t hanging open, as Carmy’s coy smile plays along his lips. 
“You didn’t have to do all of this,” you whisper to him, feeling heat spread across your cheeks as you take in your surroundings. Your hand slips into his as you press your cheek to his jacketed shoulder. “Let me show you to your room.”
An elevator ride to the top floor has you antsy, as the attendant opens the door for you to your room. She reveals a lake-front room, with views of the harbour, twinkling lights in the distance reflecting onto the massive floor-to-ceiling window. “Is it to your liking, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto?”
A blush runs up your cheeks as the insinuation. Carmy didn’t correct her, just slipped her a tip and assured her the room was perfect. The door clicked politely behind you as you stepped into the room and kicked off your shoes. You turned around to meet Carmy’s eyes as his expression softened, your hands coming up to cup his face.
“I can’t believe you did this.” You’re breathless, still taking in this grand gesture he’d somehow planned completely behind your back.
“You deserve it,” he said simply, tongue darting between his lips as a strong hand came to overlap yours. 
~
The sun had gone down now, navy sky further illuminating the lights below. Rain slacked against the window, simultaneously hard and soft, the glow of the bedside lamps casting shadows on the walls as you got yourself settled. Carmy had abandoned his jacket and tie, leaving him in a crisp white button-up shirt and black slacks. He was laid back on the bed, one hand behind his head, taking some time to relax.
You dipped into the bathroom, smoothing out your hair and checking your makeup in the mirror. You undid the back of your dress and let it slip down your body into a pool on the tile, revealing the gift you’d picked out for Carmy. A black lace set - cupping your breasts perfectly. Lace panties to match, connected to stockings that came high up on your thighs. 
You stepped out, stocking-clad feet soft against the carpet. Carmy immediately notices, eyes blown wide as he sits up to take you in. 
“Thought you might want your gift now,” you sauntered towards him and met him at the end of the bed, his thighs spread for you to fit between them. His hands immediately came up to touch - to confirm you were real, mostly - because his brain was telling him you weren’t.
You looked down at him, cupping his chin with your hand and the other coming down to his shoulder. Pushing down on him gently, his back hit the mattress, wild eyes not moving off of you for even a second. 
You move to straddle his lap, fingers coming down to start unfurling the buttons on his shirt, revealing the soft skin of his chest. Carmy’s rough, calloused fingertips pressed into the plush skin of your hips, eyes wanting to flutter closed but being too entranced by the sight before him to look away. 
His fiery eyes fell to the swell of your breasts, hands coming up to press and squeeze at the skin there, thumbs ghosting over your hard nipples. You felt your back arch, pressing against his palms, wanting more, as much of him as you could get. 
Carmy’s hands slid down your body to find your clothed core, eliciting a small moan from your lips. You rutted into his hand slightly, feeling his skilful fingers start to work at you over the lace.
You weren’t expecting to give him the upper hand, but it was hard not to submit to his touch - wholly his, looking down at him but still feeling as though he had all the power.
He was sitting up now, pushing your panties to the side and feeling the slick between your folds, maintaining eye contact with you through it all. “Carm,” you panted, strained, embarrassed to be coming apart for him already.
As if he knew, he pulled away, wordlessly bringing his fingers up to your lips. You wrapped your mouth around them, letting your tongue dart between the digits as he wet them with your spit.
“Pretty girl,” he muttered, only loud enough for you to hear, earnest eyes looking up at you, fuzzy around the edges with lust. “My pretty slut, aren’t you?”
“Just for you,” you replied, a smirk on the corner of your lip as he swiftly grabbed your hips and flipped you to have your back on the soft hotel comforter.
He stood before you, giving you a chance to unbutton the rest of his shirt and undo his dress pants, his hand now cradling your chin. You pushed his slacks to the floor, rubbing his thick cock over the fabric of his black boxers. His hand came down to pet your hair, taking a fistful of it at the nape and pulling it back to reveal your shiny lips and eager eyes to him. The pendant he purchased for you glinted in the light.
“Tell me how bad you want it.”
His firm hand on the back of your neck was enough to make your cunt weep, even without his touch. “Please, I need your cock. Please.”
“Good girl. Sit up, all fours.”
You quickly found yourself on your knees on the soft bed, as he let his cock free. He pumped it a few times, angling your mouth with his grip to allow it to drop open. He pressed forward, slipping in between your wet lips and eliciting a carnal groan from his throat. You let yourself submit to his face-fucking, using your mouth to get himself off, leaking tip pressing against the back of your throat. You gagged around him, throat constricting, which only emboldened him to continue. Spit escaped the corners of your lips as you took him in, swallowing him down, all while looking up and batting your long lashes at him. 
“Taking it so good,” he remarked, with a particularly long thrust into your throat. Leaning forward, his broad hand found a fistful of your ass, squeezing it before planting a firm spank. A yelp escaped your lips, as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the force of him in your throat.  
He pulled you off, cock bobbing between his legs before he smeared the spit that had collected all over your plush lips. “So fucking good for me, baby.”
You smiled triumphantly as he leaned down to kiss you sloppily, mixing your spit with his and taking the time to undo your bra and throw it to the ground. 
You didn’t even mind when he pushed you back onto the bed, pulling the stockings and panties off to meet your bra on the floor, surely ripping them. His hands pushed your thighs apart, wet pussy on full display as he dove right in, not giving you even a second to catch your breath.
“Fu-uck,” your voice was hoarse and jagged, his warm tongue feeling like it was everywhere. You squirmed beneath his strong squeeze, forcing your back off the mattress as he licked a broad stripe up your centre and flashed his eyes up at you.
Your eyes were trained on his movements, knowing better than to close them. Your hand came down to his sandy curls, feeling your breath quicken as he suckled on your clit, moving his jaw in such a way that was sending an electrifying pulse up your spine.
He moved one hand from your thigh to circle your entrance with his middle finger, enjoying the way you shuddered at the feeling. “Please,” you begged, watching as he detached his tongue from your clit to simply play with your hole. “Please, I need you inside of me.”
His lips pursed as he waited for you to understand why he wasn’t proceeding. A knowing glance, a sob from you as he teased you. “Are you talking to me? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
“Please, daddy. Please fuck me with your fingers.”
“That’s better.” He plunged into you, thick finger curling inside as you let out a choked sob, your cunt pulsing around him as he moved in and out. His lips attached to your clit once again, sucking and grinding his tongue into you, other hand coming up along your stomach to grab your tit and pinch your nipple.
You rasped his name, throat raw from his previous fucking, letting it pour out of your lips over and over. He lapped at you - feeling every quiver from your pussy and shake of your legs as he continued at a bruising pace, not letting up no matter how much you squirmed beneath him. Still pushing you into the mattress, his own cock rutting against the sheets and growing harder every second that his mouth is on you.
A white-hot feeling spread across the back of your thighs, back arched as you tugged on his hair and met his gaze. He rode out your high with you, letting you gush around his fingers and feeling waves of pleasure rise and fall as your breath steadied. Your chest heaving, sticky with sweat, mascara smeared at the edges as you laid back, feeling Carmy’s fingers pull out and his mouth detach from you.
He found himself between your thighs once more, rock-hard cock sliding between your slick folds to tease your overly sensitive clit. He kissed you, a hunger within him, arms coming up under you to hold you as close as possible. Bare skin against bare skin, his mouth sucking in your bottom lip and biting down slightly, eliciting a smile from you and a depraved moan from your lips.
You reached down between your two bodies and slipped his cock into your ready pussy, swallowing him inside of you and hearing his gasp against your lips at the friction. A shameless grunt as his hips drove into you relentlessly, his curls falling into your face as your head tipped back, letting his mouth attach to the side of your throat and suck a bruise into the soft skin beneath your ear. Your hands found the strong muscles of his back, digging them into his skin and finding your legs wrapping around his middle.
An assaulting pace, languidly in and out of you as you met his eyes, pure lust and fire behind them. You could see the idea flash across his eyes.
He pulled out of you gingerly, as you winced at the loss of contact. He pulled you up with him, towards the windows of the hotel room.
He lightly pushed you against the cold glass, earning a sinful moan from your lips as he took your hands hostage behind your back. The rain still pelted down outside, a symphony against your hard and fast breath.
“Why don’t you show all those people how you like to get fucked, huh? Show them what a slut you are?”
A devilish smile on your lips was met with your cheek against the glass, a broad palm on the opposite side of your face, as his cock slid back into your pussy with ease. Your ass was pushed out for him to land a firm slap on it once again, picking up his pace. His hand came around to push your legs apart, playing with your clit and drawing you close once again, as he released your hands to leave prints on the glass.
“Fill me up, please daddy,” you moaned, letting your head fall slack. “I want you to cum so fucking deep inside of me, fuck,” — another spank, paired with jagged thrusts as Carmy got closer to finishing — “fuck me like you own me, baby.”
“I do own you,” he growled, forehead pressed against your shoulder blades as he felt your pussy clench around him. “Cum baby, cum with all those people fucking watching you.” 
“You own me Carmen, I’m yours.” you chanted, turning around to meet his eyes. You watched his eyes glaze over and jaw hang open as his thrusts slowed, making a mess of your pussy as he came deep inside of you.
Your second orgasm followed soon after, cock twitching inside of you as you clenched around him. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder as you stepped away from the glass, legs unstable as a furious warmth came up over your cheeks.
After getting cleaned up together in the bathroom, he flicked off the light as you turned towards the window. His body pressed up against yours, arm secured around your waist as he peppered kisses along your neck and shoulders, musing about how beautiful you are.
“Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered, another kiss to the outer shell of your ear that made a shiver go up your spine. “I love you more than anything.”
You curled into him and listened to the relaxing rain, his steadying breath and strong arm lulling you safely to sleep.
415 notes · View notes
roturo · 1 year
Text
LOOKING FOR A RIDE?
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UBER DRIVER! GOJO SATORU X READER.
WARNINGS: strangers sex, fingering, unprotected sex, nipple play (both receiving), slapping, switch!gojo satoru, switch!reader, tummy buldge, creamy pie kink, marking, virgin!reader, gojo whimpers (just bc i say so), riding, GOJO HAS NIPPLE PIERCINGS EVERYBODY!!, dumbification, sub-space, overstimulation, aftercare, fluffly ending.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: did i wrote this on the airplane? yes. do i got this idea while i was in a uber? yes. was the guy hot? no. was it a horny idea? absolutely. reblogs are appreciated.
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Uber driver!Gojo who got a notification for a new ride. He looked at your name and thought this was going to be another drunk and annoying girl who would try to hit on him.
Uber driver!Gojo who picked you up from a bar but you looked everything but happy and drunk. You looked sad and mad. He thought this was going to be an awkward ride, feeling some kind of tension between the both of you.
Uber driver!Gojo, who was surprised you sat in the front seat and not in the back seat like most people do. He just greeted you and asked for the pin and destination. He gave you a sly smile and started driving.
Uber driver!Gojo who suddenly stopped the car thanks to a dog passing by without warning and grabbed your thigh preventing you from hitting yourself even if you had the seatbelt on. After a minute of relaxing himself, and checking nobody got hurt he locked eyes with you, a red blush flashing through his face when he noticed what he did.
Uber driver!Gojo who wouldn’t stop apologizing but kept his hand there, sliding it through your thigh, making you tremble each time he got closer to your core. He kept apologizing but a cocky smile was adorning his face.
Uber driver!Gojo who asked why you had a sad and angry face once you entered the car. Driving with just one hand while the other rests in your thigh.
Uber driver!Gojo who couldn’t believe it when you told him your boyfriend dumped you for your best friend in front of you— How could someone dump and hurt a cute thing like you?
Uber driver!Gojo who was about to take his hand off your thigh but surprised himself when you stopped him from doing it, placing it even closer to your core.
Uber driver!Gojo who started playing with your panties once you make your dress go higher and your thigh in full display— He didn’t take his eyes out of the road even if he was dying to see your wetness.
Uber driver!Gojo who let out a small sigh when you giggled and moved your panties to the side— so he could have access to your wet pussy.
Uber driver!Gojo who slid his fingers through your lips so they could get wet, circling your clit every time he could, making you leave small whimpers begging for more. 
Uber driver!Gojo who got even harder—(if possible) when he looked to his right and your face was full of tears and you were begging for his fingers inside of you and stop the teasing. When he inserted them the both of you let out a sigh— feeling how your cunt hugged him and every moan you let out when he touched that spongy place that made you see stars.
Uber driver!Gojo who started moving his fingers faster once he heard you moan his name. ‘Gojo, please more’ You said, trying to keep his hand inside of you. ‘It’s Satoru for you baby.’
‘S-satoru, please… make me yours..’
Uber driver!Gojo who lost all his sanity when you said those words and had to park in some empty parking lot. He wasted no time making more space while making his seat backwards— He grabbed you by the armpits and positioned you on top of his crotch— His hands resting on your hips in a possessive way— Making sure he will leave marks for you to remember.
Uber driver!Gojo who kissed you for the first time in the night— and kissed you like it was the last time he would do it. Savoring every moment of it, trying to leave a mark so everytime you kissed somebody else you would think of him.
Uber driver!Gojo who chuckled when you started unbuckling his belt while you straddled his leg— ‘Impatient, aren’t we?’— He helped you unbuckling his belt and undressing you, taking off your dress and noticing you were wearing no bra.
Uber driver!Gojo who kept staring at your chest for some minutes, a red blush notably adorning his face and ears. ‘You’re gonna cum in your pants before you get inside of me if you keep staring like that’— He looked back at you and smiled— caughting you by surprise when he inserted one of your nipples in his mouth.
Uber driver!Gojo who marked both of your nipples, reddish almost purple marks on them, he even made a heart in your left boob. Admiring his work of art, he took his cock out of his boxers. Rock hard, a pearl of cum coming out of the pinkish tip, going down to his base— white trimmed little hairs adorning it— a vein coming out of his left side, circling his cock.
Uber driver!Gojo who got even more amused when you kept staring at his cock in surprise, like it was your first time— Uber driver!Gojo who swears he could cum in the moment when you told him ‘Uhm… I’ve never done this… Like… inside y’know.’
Uber driver!Gojo who got an urgent urge to be your first and stretch you out, molding your cunt for his cock only— He wanted to watch you cry and for you to beg for mercy.
Uber driver!Gojo who said he would take it slow since it was your first time but he didn’t expect for you to insert his cock all inside of you in no time. Making him leave a whimper out of his mouth which almost sounded like whine— Your eyes full of tears, leaving small moans even if you’re not moving, his hands not moving from your hips, grabbing them ever harder than before.
Uber driver!Gojo who started whimpering once you moved for the first time—slow and cautious with your movements had him going dizzy and giddy of how good you felt. Sighs coming out of his mouth, when you started going faster. 
Uber driver!Gojo who’s demeanor changed once you started crying of pleasure and rocking his hips with no rhythm— his hips slapping with your ass, moans and slap of skin was all the sound you could hear. Your hands traveled down his shirt, looking for his chest.
Uber driver!Gojo who let out a high pitched moan when you pinched his nipples—the feeling of the cold metal on them and the warm pinch of his hand making him see stars— never experiencing this before, always dominating his partner, but now it was like both of you had control with the other.
Uber driver!Gojo who would never admit he liked the feeling of submission, leaving whimpers every time you jumped on his cock and pinched his pierced nipples— You took off his shirt and inserted one of his nipples inside of your mouth while you continued riding him—the cold feeling of metal and spit wetting his nipple making him even more sensible.
Uber driver!Gojo who grabbed you by the hair, making you look at him—he kissed you passionately, but then slapped you across the face, caughting you by surprise and moaning out his name.
Uber driver!Gojo who felt his high coming and started thrusting inside of you roughly, making you dumb—vision blurry and incapable of forming coherent words. Rolling your eyes everytime his cock touched that spot inside of you.
Uber driver!Gojo who grabbed one of your hands and positioned it on your tummy, making you feel his cock going in and out of you.
Uber driver!Gojo who made you cum while he continued thrusting inside of you— you couldn’t see anything at this point and tears were all you could feel coming out of you.
Uber driver!Gojo who came the hardest he has ever come before, tears coming out of his eyes and a moan turning into a groan when he felt his body not stopping from filling you up. Feeling your tummy grow a little thanks to the amount of cum inside of you, you’re not even sure if your birth control would prevent this.
Uber driver!Gojo who let out heavy breaths of out him trying to calm himself down, when your body is on top of him— resting and waiting for you to come back to reality— still inside of you while one of his hands rests in your low back and the other is playing with your hair.
Uber driver!Gojo who’s really sensitive but waits for you to gain consciousness back— whispering sweet words in your ear while he gives you small peaks on your head. You wouldn’t lie, you stayed like that a little more even if you felt awake again, loving the feeling of the both of you.
Uber driver!Gojo who helped you out of him, keeping you on top of him, resting your body on him, while your hands and head rested on his chest. ‘So… do you wanna go on a date?… I don’t know, maybe give it a try and i’ll show  your best friend and ex-boyfriend they didn’t know what they just lost?… Show them how beautiful you are, show them how your smile could brighten up a whole town. Show them you’re happier without them.’
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