#m writes lamp

[nottswitch]

— 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠?)

summary: your last night in italy, your last chance to remember this vacation forever

pairing: theo x fem!reader

warning: 18+ smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), spanking, choking, dirty talk, degradation/praise, mentions of alcohol, tipsy sex, smoking, broken Italian, modern!au, muggle!au

wc: 3.9k

a/n: it’s been a long time coming!! finally officially writing for theo. inspired by honey (are u coming?) by måneskin <3

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; theo m-list ; how to request

The air of the summer night was almost chilly, but only almost – the temperatures in the south of Italy are usually high at this time of year. However, it didn’t stop you from shivering as a light breeze of wind brushed against your skin, flushed from all the alcohol you had consumed in the last couple of hours. It wasn’t even that much in quantity – it was more so the mixture between the different kinds of it creating a heady haze in your direct and peripheral vision. And now, you were standing behind the club, having come out for a breather and a brief clearance of your mind. Your friends were still inside, lost somewhere between the dancing bodies, and you didn’t care enough to let them know you were heading out.

“Scusa, signorina, ha un accendino?”

You were shaken out of the blankness of your thoughts by a deep voice coming from somewhere behind you. You didn’t know what it said, since you weren’t the assigned interpreter of the group and knew jack shit about Italian. Slowly and cautiously, you turned your head to look at the source of that profoundly attractive voice. The man was standing a bit further away, still hidden by the shadows, so you couldn’t see his face clearly.

“Ciao?”

In your dumbfounded state, it was the only thing your brain could conjure up. The sole Italian word you knew for sure and could safely produce, besides the pizza names, of course. But if you started spurring them out – that would be deathly embarrassing.

The silhouette let out a low chuckle. He took a step further, and the light of a street lamp finally let you see the face of the mysterious voice. Your mouth was slightly agape as you studied his features: cheekbones that looked sharper than they probably were, emphasized by the shadows of the night; a cap of dark curly hair, messed up by hours of dancing in the club and the breeze that was currently ruffling it; his lips, rather… full and strangely inviting.

“Shit, I thought this line would work.”

Once again, his voice pulled you right out of your reverie. You realized that he was speaking English now, and his accent made the language sound tenfold more charming than it needed to be.

“What?” you asked, immediately feeling sheepish as you said it. It wasn’t hard to notice that you’d been standing there shamelessly ogling him while he tried to converse.

The previous chuckle of his turned into a laugh. The stranger stepped even closer, so close that you could distinguish a couple moles on his face, and his eyes… they were something else entirely. You tried your best to blink away the incoming clouding of the mind – it was simply dangerous to stare into them too much.

“I asked if you had a lighter,” he explained, taking a pack of cigarettes and his own lighter out of his pocket. “This line usually works.”

He lit up the cigarette, taking quick inhales until the tip started burning orange. Then, he took a deep drag, hollowing out his cheeks and making his cheekbones appear even more prominent. You watched in awe as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, deliberately blowing it out in the opposite direction.

“But you-” you tried to say, your voice embarrasingly cracking and making you clear your throat. “You have a lighter,” you finally uttered, rubbing your throat with your fingers and swallowing a lump slowly starting to form there.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just a conversation starter,” he explained with another low chuckle. You felt like you were five and he was you kindergarten teacher, explaining the reason the sky was blue. “And it did start the conversation, no?”

You smiled nervously, fumbling with your necklace. The stranger noticed your tensed up state and his expression softened from playful to friendly and approachable.

“Theo,” he said, holding out his hand. “Well, Theodore, actually, but only my mother calls me that when she’s angry,” he joked, his lips spreading in a wide smile.

You introduced yourself as well, feeling much more comfortable with his gaze warmly resting on your eyes. His hand was bigger than yours, softer than you expected and felt like a pillow. Once your palms connected, he wrapped his fingers around yours and instead of a handshake, lifted your hand to his lips to plant a kiss on its back.

Your cheeks flushed instantly at the feeling of his lips on your skin. They were so soft that a need to feel them on your mouth made itself known in the depths of your stomach. You cursed yourself for being so sensitive, but didn’t pull your hand away when his lips lingered there for a few seconds longer than necessary.

“So, bella,” he started, letting go of your hand, “what are you doing alone outside of a club at…” He glanced at his wristwatch. “…at five in the morning?”

“My friends are still inside,” you explained the ‘alone’ part, “and I just came out for a breather. Our flight is in six hours and we’re probably not going to sleep,” you added with a scoff. At that point, a sleepless night didn’t sound as enticing as it did just a day before.

“A flight?”

Theo tilted his head, taking another drag of the cigarette. You swore you were hallucinating, but you could hear a slight hint of disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah, we’re flying back home,” you replied with a sigh, also feeling disappointed for some reason. It was rather unfair, you thought, that as soon as you met a perfect picture of a man, you had to leave him behind, in a country so foreign to you.

“Damn…”

Theo let out a humorless chuckle, exhaling a plume of smoke and running his hand through his hair, letting the curls gracefully fall on his forehead afterwards. He noticed the curious glance you gave him and shook his head.

“It’s nothing, I just-”

He interrupted himself by taking a long drag of the cigarette and shoving his hand in his pocket, as if to stop it from clenching into a fist.

“I just thought I had a chance,” he finished with a white cloud billowing out of his mouth. “You know, to have your number, to take you out and all that…”

You sighed, lowering your gaze to the ground. You actually really wanted to go on a date with this handsome stranger, and life felt even more unfair than just seconds ago, now that you knew that your sudden desire was reciprocated.

“Life’s a bitch, I guess,” you breathed out, biting the inside of your cheek to stop your voice from shaking. You never knew that a simple one-minute encounter outside of a club could affect you that profoundly, yet there you were, wishing you could stay in Italy for at least a day longer.

Theo watched you intently as he kept on smoking, and silence fell between the two of you for a few minutes.

"Can we…?" his voice sounded in the silence of the night.

"Yeah," you breathed out before he could even finish the sentence. You knew exactly what he was implying, and you would probably die before you missed the chance to skip all the unnecessary steps and just outright go for it.

You could see Theo grinning and tilting his head back a little as another cloud of thick white smoke wafted above him. He threw the cigarette to the ground, crushing it with the tip of his shoe, all while his shining eyes were fixed on you, and you realized that your own lips perfectly mirrored his wide smile. Theo took a couple of steps towards you, the proximity between your bodies’ letting his warmth envelop your front. His hand hovered next to your waist while his eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission. Your nod was more than enough; you barely had time to breathe in before Theo’s lips were on yours, his hand firmly gripping your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. On instinct, your own hands ended up on his shoulders, stabilizing yourself, as your knees seemed to have a mind of their own and suddenly wanted to buckle.

Naturally, Theo tasted like cigarettes and a hint of alcohol; his scent invaded your senses with male cologne and something citrusy on top of that. His hands held you up, one of them leaving wrinkles on the thin fabric of your tank top, and the other one – caressing you flushed cheek with his thumb. You let out a soft, shaky moan when you felt his tongue gliding against yours and got a response in the form of another moan, but lower – from him. It sounded heavenly, and you found yourself wanting to pull more of this out of him.

Both of you were breathless when you mouths finally separated, a thin strip of saliva stretching out between your shiny, sloppy lips. A second later, it was cold and dripping down your chin, and Theo laughed, pressing his thumb to your skin to wipe off the mess.

"There’s a place, not far from here," he whispered, leaning in so that his lips would lightly brush against your ear.

"Whatever you say," you answered, closing your eyes and trying to gather the last bits of self-control not to jump on him right then and there. Maybe it was the previously consumed alcohol, maybe it was just him.

The corner of Theo’s mouth turned up at the sound of your voice, still a bit breathless and, undoubtedly, needy. He placed a teasing, promising kiss under your ear, eliciting a quiet but sharp breath from you, and pulled away, sliding his hand down your body, from your waist to your hand. Your fingers intertwined, and before you knew it, you were getting all but dragged along the cobbled street.

"Theo," you whined, tugging at his arm to at least slow him down a notch. "My heels!" you said, raising your voice a bit when the guy didn’t stop at all, as if he hadn’t heard you.

Theo turned his head, following your downturned finger and noticing your high-heeled sandals.

"Ah, piccola mia," he cooed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. You didn’t know what he said, but in your mind, his amused smile couldn’t have meant anything bad. In a split of a second, you were picked up, bridal style, your body pressed to Theo’s chest, your legs helplessly dangling in the air. You let out a short, surprised squeal, which made Theo bite the inside of his cheek in order to suppress a loud, hearty laugh.

"That’s much better, hm?" he murmured, observing your widened eyes with a small but cheeky smile on his face and a quirked eyebrow.

You didn’t really have any time to answer – the question was rhetorical, anyway – as he started to walk down the street, his pace a bit faster now that you weren’t slowing him down. You decided not to question and instead, wrapped your arms around his neck. Although, as you had come to notice, his arms provided just enough of a safety net.

The lobby of the hotel had high ceilings, leather couches and air conditioning, which was a nice contrast against you flushed cheeks. Theo didn’t bother lowering you to the ground when you entered, so now you were hiding your embarrassed face in the crook of his neck while the receptionist was checking you in. His cologne was filling your lungs more and more with each passing second, so at some point you couldn’t hold back anymore and started placing soft kisses on Theo’s neck and jaw. You heard the incessant tapping of his fingers against the countertop increasing in frequency and grinned into his skin, realizing that your efforts weren’t in vain at all. His relieved exhale rang out along with the clink of the keys to your room for the night.

As soon as you stepped into the elevator, Theo pressed you against the wall, swiftly grabbing the backs of your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist. His lips stole a sloppy kiss from yours before latching onto your neck and leaving a trail of saliva down to your collarbone. One of your hands ended up on his shoulder while the other one was eagerly pulling his head into your neck, craving for more of the pleasure his lips were giving you.

The high-pitched sound of the elevator arriving at your floor cut through your lust-filled haze, but Theo was far from willing to let you go even for a minute. He carried you into the corridor and looked around to spot the right number on the door. Thankfully, it wasn’t far. Theo’s pace was hurried, and his lips were stuck to your shoulder all the way, until you heard the key turning and the door opening, at last.

A sharp breath was knocked out of your lungs when Theo pressed you against the other side of door, hungrily swallowing the air coming out of you. His hands immediately went to your ass, firmly gripping the flesh over your skirt. You moaned into his mouth, already feeling the dampness between your legs starting to grow pretty rapidly. Theo smirked against your lips and sneaked a hand up your body, under your tank top. His palm pressed into your breast, his fingers closing around it and giving it a solid squeeze. His lips parted, and you whined in protest when instead of his tongue you suddenly felt just his hot, alcohol-induced breath. You desperately licked into his mouth while he panted, lost in the feeling of your tits and ass sitting so nicely in his hands.

"Cazzo, you feel so good," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse.

At the feeling of Theo’s strong hands kneading your ass and tits simultaneously you started whimpering, wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to move your hips against his, tightening your legs’ embrace around his waist.

"You’re a needy girl, huh?"

Theo pulled away ever so slightly, just enough to have a good look at his face. He chuckled, trapping his tongue between his teeth while his eyes flicked from yours down to your now swollen lips and back.

"Such a desperate, needy slut," he murmured, his hand leaving your breast and cupping your jaw, his fingertips pressing into your cheeks and making your lips form a pout. As a confirmation of his words, a whimper left your throat, and your pussy started pulsating against the front of his jeans. Your hips started grinding again, and you could barely hold in another round of pathetic sounds when you felt a hard bulge between your bodies.

"Fuck," Theo groaned, for a second feeling nothing but the delicious friction your rapid movements provided. He lowered you to the ground, pressing a quick, firm kiss against your lips before guiding you to the huge, king-sized bed. You didn’t protest; you didn’t want to, and your mind was too far gone at this point. As soon as your legs hit the edge of the bed, Theo didn’t let you fall onto it. Instead, he pressed his palms against your lower back and your stomach at the same time, bending you over in one swift movement – you barely had time to stretch out your arms to support yourself.

Theo took a step back, biting his lips as he took in the sight of you, bent over, a tight denim skirt hugging your curves, your ass high up in the air due to the high heels on your feet. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he came closer again, lifting up your skirt to pool around your waist. You breathing grew more erratic as you felt his hands on your ass, grabbing the cheeks and spreading them open. A sharp slap landing on your right asscheek was a surprise, eliciting half a squeal, half a moan from you; your arousal trickled out of your panties in one wet line, which made Theo almost ecstatic. He gave your ass another slap, relishing your moan as he kneeled behind you, your thighs receiving a smack each as a signal to spread further apart.

If he wasn’t gripping your hips at that moment, your legs would’ve given out right when his mouth was pressed against your soaked panties. A shaky whimper escaped your wide-open mouth, making Theo’s cock throb in the confines of his jeans. In other cases, he would’ve taken his time teasing you, getting his fix of your needy moans and the sweetness between your legs. However, right then he was still somewhat tipsy and painfully hard, which is why your panties were quickly moved aside and his tongue dived straight into your dripping folds. A groan made your skin pleasantly vibrate, and your moans never stopped since, only growing louder and more frequent.

Theo’s tongue lapped up the juices from your cunt, his hands firmly gripping the underside of your ass, his thumbs spreading your inner thighs by pressing into them hard enough to leave bruises. You couldn’t help it - you bent your arms and lowered yourself down to your elbows, because you felt like you’d start shaking at any given moment. And you did, as soon as Theo’s skillful lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and making each and every single nerve shoot lightning strikes of pleasure through your whole body. Your moans and whimpers grew into sobs as Theo continued greedily devouring your aching cunt. The moment he gave your ass another slap, you were done for. Without any type of warning, you came, your hands gripping the sheets so hard they could probably rip.

When Theo heard you getting lost in your orgasm, he closed his eyes and groaned, feeling his own need painfully pulsating between his legs. He stood up, towering over your bent over and already spent form. You couldn’t even turn your head to see what he was doing, but you definitely heard the sound of a zipper being undone. You didn’t have time to dwell on that, as two of Theo’s fingers ended up inside your cunt almost immediately. Your whole body jerked forward, the pain of overstimulation mixing with the pleasure of his fingers stretching out your walls. The next sound was that of a wrapper being opened, and for a quick but very empty moment Theo’s digits left your hole. You whimpered in protest, pushing your ass back in search of friction, and you found it: the tip of Theo’s cock, wrapped up in a condom, slid along your folds up to your clenching and unclenching entrance.

"Cazzo," Theo breathed out, momentarily mesmerized by the sight in front of him. "Such a good girl f’me…" he continued murmuring as he rubbed his tip in circles against your entrance, making you squirm. His hand stopped your erratic movements, grabbing your hip to keep you in place. Once he was sure you weren’t moving anymore, that same hand landed on your asscheek, causing your body to jerk forward once again. "Such a dirty slut."

With one thrust he pushed into you, his hips slamming against yours with bruising force. You let out a sharp, high-pitched scream, immediately flowing into a stuttering moan as you felt the tip of Theo’s cock hitting a sweet spot. He moaned along with you, his head thrown back as he savored the feeling of your warmth and heat squeezing his aching dick. Shameless groans left his mouth with each movement he started moving inside of you, his initially slow pace growing into deep, hard thrusts. You buried your face in the sheets, tugging at them with your hands, desperate for some kind of grounding in reality. Theo’s cock kept hitting different spots inside you that you didn’t even know you had, making your pussy drip even more and causing squelching sounds to waft through the room, along with skin loudly connecting with skin. Theo’s hands landed slaps on your ass from time to time, each squeal of yours following it causing him to groan louder.

Your second orgasm wasn’t far off from the first one – with an especially deep thrust, Theo’s cock hit something entirely uncharted inside of you, making your thighs shake and your cunt clench around him. He fucked you through your climax, barely holding on, until you finally stopped squirming so much. His hand was on the back of your neck in a second, lifting your upper body from the bed and pressing it against his firm chest.

"Feel so good, bella," he breathed into your ear, causing your completely overstimulated body to shiver. This reaction brought Theo closer to his own orgasm, and his thrusts became messier with each passing second. "Gonna come soon," he whispered, lightly squeezing your throat and circling the shell of your ear with the tip of his tongue. You whined pathetically, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your walls clenched around Theo once again.

That did it for him. With a low, raspy moan into your ear, he came, his grip on your hip and throat tightening. His twitching cock made your thighs purse together involuntarily, and your body finally went limp against his chest. Both of you stayed like that for another minute or so, stabilizing your staggered breathing. As soon as Theo felt you calming down, he carefully spun you around and lowered you onto the bed on your back.

"That was…" you breathed out, sinking into the softness of the mattress underneath you.

"Yeah," Theo followed, a satisfied smile playing on his lips when he heard you struggling for words.

You let out a breathless chuckle, propping yourself up on one arm and following Theo’s padding to the bathroom with your gaze. Once he disappeared inside for a moment, you threw yourself back onto the sheets, covering your eyes with your hands and shaking your head in disbelief.

"Me… A one-night stand in Italy…" you murmured under your breath, rubbing your temples with your fingers, as if trying to get a grasp of the situation.

"A one-night stand?"

Theo quirked an eyebrow, heading from the bathroom towards the bed, his jeans all done and zipped again. You gave him a questioning look of your own, wondering what that sly smile of his meant. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to you and, in response, turned the screen of his phone to you. You squinted, trying to see what he was trying to show you, and gave him a skeptical look when you did. He seemed puzzled for a moment before understanding washed over him – of course, how would you understand a text in Italian. He physically facepalmed and pulled the phone away, looking at the screen himself.

"It says that ‘due to inadequate weather conditions, all international flights have been postponed indefinitely," he read nonchalantly, the only thing betraying his inner workings being that same smile you saw earlier. He glanced at you, trying to gauge your reaction to the news and see if you were getting the hint.

You bit your bottom lip, furrowing your brows as you were processing the information. Then, your eyebrows went up, and you lifted your head, meeting his playful eyes with those of your own. As Theo crawled up your body, your fingers were already mindlessly tapping a message to your group chat with your friends.

reblogs and comments will be appreciated ♡

[antidesire]

specialize in havin' fun. antidesire

disclaimer, 18+ only. f!reader x logan howlett, logan is ancient so obvi age gap? idk who this is for, what am i doing? think im the dick-sucking writer, i seem to always write about it. no established relationship, reader and logan fool around but reader is head over heels for him. this is just porn, I didn't intend to write logan so rough I think I went off the rails. roughness, a lil non-con??? forcefulness, oral m! receiving, boot.. fucking >:), saliva, desperate!reader, pet names, hair pulling, I haven't written in so long I forgot how to tag, lmk if I miss anything, sorry this is garbage babe.

reblogging, interacting and sending feedback is always much appreciated, requests are open !! ♡

logan's boots hit the stony pavement with a thud, leg swinging over the body of his motorcycle, propping it up diligently. what a fucking day, with a sharp inhale, he tried to shrug off any lingering thoughts that were worming around his brain.

your apartment was a humble and homely one, sure, sometimes the water would either scald you or, leave you falling on your ass when it blasted you with an ice-cold wake-up call, but you had decent neighbours, ones that didn't pry, or make a lot of noise, lot's of privacy, logan liked that, though he'd put up with anything for a night with you.

though this habit of leaving your door unlatched because you expected him, was something he didn't want to put up with, had he not taught you better?

"told you not to do that.." logan mummers under his breath, lord knows any fucker that tried to creep into the naively sweet girl's apartment, is one dead fucker.

pushing the door open, he was greeted with the familiar warmth of the living room, a chiffon scarf with tassels draped over the lamp on the tableside, drenching the room in tranquillity, candlelight flickering to compliment the dimly lit ambiance, he almost slammed the front door shut, as though the outside would taint it if it got too long of a look.

like a domino effect, just the click of the door scrambled you to your feet, tripping over the blanket thrown over your shoulders, "logan!" your hush whisper sounded just as excited as every other time he walked through the door, as though it was a script you followed.

"hey bab- ouh," logan huffed out, your head smacking against his chest first, your arms following in quick succession, squeezing tightly around his chest, "one day you're gonna give yourself a concussion doin' that."

muffled laughs vibrated against his chest. when you breathed in you could smell the gasoline on his clothing, and that cologne he wore, smelt earthy, woody, and a little citrus too.

impatient as always when it came to overtaking all your senses with the man you were enamored with, your fingers find the bulkiest part of logan's arms, not nearly enough length on them to get close to fully engulfing the meaty muscle of them, you squeezed and forced them both around your upper waist, encouraging him to hold you tighter, you wanted to feel light-headed with him.

if you could see the soppy smile that stretched on his face, eyes wrinkled with delight, you would've pounced further on him, "how do you do it?" your head raised at his question, chin digging uncomfortably into his sternum, he continues, "exist when i'm not here for you to love up on me?" logan's fingers tapped up your back, under the shirt of his you were adorned in, the blanket you had over you, long forgotten about.

your cheeks puffed out and lips parted, but only an exhale left them. you quickly shook your head, only nudging into him for more comfort.

“c’mere,” it was quite comical because any closer would’ve been impossible, though you craved it, with a push under your chin, logan leaned down, and without another beat he pushed his lips to yours, his thumb, followed by a trickling of his fingers trailing downwards along your neck, resting his grip mindfully there, as though the kiss hadn’t dazed you enough.

hoo boy, you were easy.

logan had years on him- years was an understatement, and you, this doe-eyed girl, hopelessly head over heels to please him, it was dangerous, logan felt guilty, soiling such a deer.

it was perverse.

it was perverse when he first rammed into you and you choked out the cutest little sob he had ever heard, eyes flooding with fat tears, he had tensed himself, so much restraint it took out of him to even think about pulling out after all the effort it took to push his cock inside you, you’d noticed and in a bit of a panic, “no- nonono.” your legs raised up and around his hips, the heels of your feet pushing against his back, “keep— hngh, stay, can do it.. i can do it.” your breath was so unsteady, “please.” and who was he to deny such a brave girl?

and now when he felt your lips part, trying to sloppily catch up with his own, fingers fumbling awkwardly at the lower hem of his raggedy white tank top, it was perverse.

it didn’t have to go like this every time, but it did, it got out of control, and fast, every single damn time.

logan's beard was dark, mostly, with little flecks of grey if you looked close enough. it scratched your pretty face deliciously when you pushed up further into the kiss, your hands exposing his tanned midriff, wandering upward to his chest, covered in coarse hair, you squeezed his flesh under your greedy fingertips every time you grazed over his waist.

the last thing logan would ever tell you to do was slow down, as much as he reveled in control, seeing you like this, your thoughts at the back of your mind, all action and no consequence, just what feels good, it was euphoric for him.

his nose prodded against yours as his tongue invaded your mouth, the sound of wet lips smacking and breaths hitching, you only let up when a sharp twinge of pain jolted at your scalp, logan's grip from your neck had moved up toward your hair, a bunched handful that arched your body delightfully against his own.

just sometimes, he'd have to nod you in a direction, when you got all fuzzy in the head for him you would've been feeling up on him with your tongue down his throat until your knee's buckled- just a little nod.

with another tug, you let logan maneuver you to the floor, not so gracefully when your knees thudded against the wood, but you didn't flinch, making quick work of his leather belt, the thing was heavy, a big brass oval buckle being the obstacle between him being down your throat already.

logan ever so kindly helped when he tugged the rest of the belt through the loops, it clattering to the ground beside his boots, next came the pop of his button and a quick push of the zipper downwards, flickering his eyes to where you were sitting, knees squashed underneath you, palms on each side of his thighs, and big pupils ghosting over his fingers.

"look at me baby." his thumb prodded at your bottom lip, inviting it to slip past and rest on your tongue, your eyes blinking up at logan, and your head tilting a little when your fingers scrunched the denim of his jeans.

his thumb pushed against your tongue and his finger hooked under your chin, pulling you into him until your cheek smushed into his abdomen and he retracted his hand, pushing his strained cock against your mouth.

you darted your tongue out and felt the texture of his briefs against it, eager fingers nudging the elastic down just enough to get him out of the fabric, barely letting his cock twitch as it met the air, a line of open-mouthed kisses trailing from the underside of his cock, hazily trailing the vein your tongue searched for, the one that leads straight up to his tip.

“s’like you’re drunk when you get like this,” logan hums, his grip on your hair was loose now, you made the prettiest distraction he’d ever laid eyes on, his thighs clenched and he twitched against your mouth again, already shallowly fucking up against your lips, “you remember last time? gotta take it easy, baby.”

last time, was partly logan’s fault, far too carried away in the warmth and slippery slick of your mouth that he had forgotten how big he was, and how small you were, how small your mouth was, it was an easy mistake when you always took anything he threw at you so sweetly, even if it ended with you gagging so uncontrollably, you almost threw up, oops.

your skin warmed out of humiliation at the gentle reminder, hastily leaning up on your knees, either of your legs sprawled out beside you when you reached up to hook both of your fingers in either side of his belt loops on his jeans, a steady handle now you opened your sticky-glossed lips and pushed the tip of his cock into your mouth, that familiar ache in your jaw not tearing down your confidence, but fuck, he was big and thick.

he tasted salty and he felt heavy in your mouth when you shoved more of him past your lips, shocks of hot lust pulsing straight between your legs whenever you heard the man above you even so much as sigh.

here he was, not even five footsteps into the room, with his pretty little thing kneeling before him as though he was a deity you praised, and devoted yourself to, in truth further condemning yourself with a life of sin, much to the both of your pleasures.

your head bobbed, and every so often you'd pull your head upward and curl your tongue around the red-hot tip of him, decorating him with sticky kisses, before he got a little too riled and there came that pulse of pain in your scalp again.

"that's very cute," the mewl that sounded in your throat was buried as soon as he pushed on the back of your head, and stuffed his cock down your throat, "i said take it fucking easy, but don't push your luck sweetheart."

your eyes almost bulged when you felt the tip of his boot nudge in between your legs, awkwardly bouncing until you feel it slip underneath you, flush against your aching warmth, "ffu-" you choked out, a stray fat tear trickling down your puffed out cheeks, mixing in the mess of saliva that pushes past your lips when logan keeps fucking up into your mouth.

"sshush, shsh." he coos out, his fingers that were previously tangled into your hair moving to your cheek, wiping at your sweet little tear, "I got you, baby, relax." his voice was as smooth as honey, and you took a second to still yourself, unclenching your jaw, as much as you could whilst he was rammed into your throat impatiently, exhaling out of your nose and hollowing your cheeks, taking a stronger grip on the hoops of his belt, for your own sanity because the way he tilted the tip of his boot up against your pussy was wickedly evil.

the thin layer of your short shorts did little to help you, you'd spoiled them as soon as his lips meshed with yours earlier.

another inhale,

exhale,

you managed to slide your mouth down much more fluidly this time, even tugging him flush against you, until the hairs at the base of him tickled your nose, you tried your best to pay no attention to the way logan had his boot in between your legs, no, no attention to the way your hips had a mind of their own, swaying against the hard material, your clit bumping deliciously every time you breathed him in, and raised your head and letting it fall in a rhythm.

the sounds that parted from logan's lips were otherworldly, his timbre was guttural and he got increasingly vocal, "fuhhck, mm," logan's brow bone had wrinkled, bliss evident, even in the way his head tilts to watch more darling little tears push past your eyes, "wish you'd greet me like this every day, ah, ah!" he hissed out, the muscles in his thighs tensing when you jolt him forward by the loops in his denim jeans, and he hits the back of your damn throat, and you take it.

cocky, that’s what you were being, and he loved every single drop of it, “gonna be a good little girl, make me cum, mm? yeah?” logan hums, feeling you squeeze his legs in approval.

good little girl,

if there were any three words to put together to make you putty in logan howlett’s hands, it was those.

your little sobs were more evident every time you lifted your head to pay some sweet attention to his tip, collecting the dribbles of sticky precum at the tip of him, rutting yourself against his boot which didn’t fly by logan’s head- no matter how enamored he was with his dick down your throat, “desperate for me to ruin every single bit of you, have a little more respect for yourself sweetheart.” he chuckled out, cruel.

if you weren’t so full of him, your senses screaming loganloganlogan, you would’ve said something, you would’ve scowled at least.

“you’re so pretty like this, let me fuck your throat yeah? you want that?” it wasn’t a question, logan’s rough hands settled on either side of your head and not missing a beat, he was thrusting into your mouth, forcefully, and hard.

his grip was stable, far too strong for you to do anything, anything but your arms flailing and clawing up at his chest, even tearing a hole in his white undershirt that bunched up under his arms.

too much. your brain screeched in panic, but your body betrayed you, helplessly fucking yourself against his boot with your thighs squashed on either side, and holy fuck, you were cumming, your puffy clit rubbing perfectly, and the lack of air did something so euphoric, it was all so wrong, but it could only be right when your body pulsed with pleasure so overwhelmingly you could do nothing but trust him, and let those fat crocodile tears stream down your face.

“sh-shit, did you just cum?” he laughs, he fucking laughs, “ahnngn, that’s so sexy.” logan was losing it, his fingertips pressed into the plush of your cheeks, hips getting sloppy as he neared his high.

one, two, three more thrusts, stuffing himself into your mouth and he is cumming for what feels like an eternity, hot and sticky fluid gushing into your mouth and spilling past your lips, dripping onto your thighs.

he lets up and eases out of your mouth when he squeezes the rest of his spend onto your tongue, gesturing with a nod of his head, “there’s my sweet girl.” you swallow, and it hurts, the strain in your throat, in your jaw, between your legs, every inch of you feels used.

“thank you, lo.” you barely scratch out, knees trembling when you lean up, nuzzling your face against his abdomen, your arms clasping around his waist for comfort, his stomach gleamed with sweat and saliva too, somehow.

logan lifted you to your feet in a swift motion, one of his hands under your arms as the other tucked his dick back into his briefs, getting you to the couch, wrapping that previously forgotten about blanket around you, “i’m gonna run us a bath, you stay here.” his lips pressed a kiss so delicately to your forehead that you felt it almost regenerate your entire body.

“can you stay for a second longer?” your voice was small, unstable.

“m’ not leaving.” logan finds it endearing, honestly a little heartbreaking, “you can’t walk and your shoulders are up to your ears sweet, lemme get a bath going,” he explains, more reassuringly but you still grumble.

he sighs at that, you barely even recognize you are horizontal after what feels like a long blink, one of logan’s arms snugly under your knees whilst the other held your upper back, and he walked onwards to the bathroom, “you remind me of a little lamb like this.” he observed, and laid another sweet kiss, this time to your lips, and your stomach churned in delight, he reassured you once again, just for tonight,

“don’t worry, i’m not leaving yet.”

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐖.

❝ you're not a curse, you have never been. you were my blessing and my salvation– the best thing that has ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved. ❞

summary: when your entire village faced the king of curses' wrath, you were sure you'd be as good as food for him but life decides to weave the strings of fate and intertwine yours with the very person who tries to cut it short.

desc: 8.6k words, f!reader, sfw, angsty angst hehe, major character death, cannibalistic thoughts (sukuna is a cannibal after all), takes place in the heian era, true form sukuna, bit ooc bc we know his ass isn't capable of love, ! slightly gory parts!, this is canon bc i said so, kenjaku isn't known as kenjaku yet – he's still known as noritoshi kamo, yorozu mentioned, basically just me raw dogging the storyline during the heian era lol.

notes: this took way longer than it should but i battled like three burn out sessions to write this so lmao. also does anybody get the aot reference in the title? this might MIGHT have a part two if i can think of a good plot to mirror it. if you get the reference, you'll alr know what it's going to be titled :P

must be horrifying isn't it? being a mere human amongst sorcerers and curse users capable of destroying and killing— powerless among the powerful whose thirst for yet more power remain a bottomless pit of unquenchable desire.

in this state of the world, your life wasn't your own. it belonged to the people who were strong enough to kill you or considerate enough to spare you.

and among dangers looming throughout, one triumphs all. one whose name was even powerful enough to send curses back at just the mention of it.

ryomen sukuna. feared by curses and non curses alike. the ruthless evil entity who feeds off of humans. there is no doubt about him being the king of curses, capable of having any being in the palm of his hands.

including you.

your village faced the wrath of the king of curses himself, not a brick was intact nor a rock left unturned. and what's even worse? he didn't have any reason for his destruction. he just did it out of his sheer will.

perhaps you should consider yourself lucky to have your life spared, along with some other women and children. all the men were gone without traces — maybe for the better.

trapped in the basement of the castle’s kitchen, you await your fate to be eaten.

what was that you said before? lucky? no, you realise how horribly wrong you were. the wails and cries of terror as yet another person was dragged out of the small room was enough to ring in your ears forever.

the sudden quietness that followed soon after was enough to suffocate you.

the room was dark, wet and disgusting. it reeked of decomposed bodies and blood. nobody was fed well and even if one or two loaves of pitiful bread were thrown into the small cell, it wasn't nearly enough to feed a group of starving people.

at least the number keeps decreasing day by day.

you'd notice how the people who cried, begged or fought back were likely speeding up their deaths so you kept to yourself, waiting for your turn, even if it's just a while later.

after what you think was a couple of days came your turn. you had lost your perception of everything in this tiny suffocating room; you might as well be dead.

you heard some loud clanks of the metal door and suddenly, a harsh pull sends you essentially flying towards whoever was grabbing you.

“this is the last one” you heard a gruff voice say as a light shone inside. it felt like ages since you saw any sort of light, of warmth. in a way, you were relieved. your suffering must be finally coming to an end.

“its this one isn't it?” a low voice asks as they being a lamp closer to inspect you. your eyes were opened and after a long while, you saw again.

“why is she in such a weakly state?” the person holding the lamp grimaces at your sight. through your hazy vision, you could still make out the white hair, perfectly in place. they were beautiful.

“well that ain't my fault is it?” the big creature yanks your arm and you fall wherever it does.

suddenly shards of ice fill the room and the fire from the lamp is put out. in its place is a glowing icy caricature of the creature, holding you intact.

as terrifying as cursed techniques can be, they were also mesmerising. the beautiful fridgid sculpture leave you in awe; the rough hand holding your arm was now frozen and unmoving.

“now.” the icy person leans down, meeting your eye level, you hadn't realised the dim moonlight illuminating the ice crystals in the room “what shall we do with you?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you're concious enough to make out your surroundings, you find yourself in a small dimly lit room. it was heaven in comparision to the previous one.

you scrumble towards the small lamp and take in the warmth. you had no idea where you were, what happened or what would happen but for now, you were alive. barely, but alive still.

weakly, you sit on the floor— there isn't anywhere else to sit anyway. upon hugging your knees you notice an apparent bruse on your arm. the same place where you were grabbed, the memories come back slowly.

did the white haired person save you? could you maybe have a chance at life?

no, being in captivity by the king of curses himself tells you enough that you weren't going to make it out of here alive. well, it's not like you necessarily want to either. your home and the people in it were gone, some of whom you witnessed their end.

it's only fair for you to meet the same fate as them.

the sound of the door unlocking interrupts your thoughts, then in came the person with snow like hair.

“finish this” they hold out a tray of food and set it down next to you. you only lean away defensively.

without so much of another word, they make their way towards the door that is, until you decided to stop them.

“you saved me didn't you?” it had been a while since you even heard your own voice and you don't miss the way it sounded more resigned than it had ever been.

“do not be fooled. it is all in consideration for my master. finish the plate” with that they walk away, leaving you with even more questions than before.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

when the certain white haired person decides to show up, they look pleased with your health. well, it should come as a no surprise since they keep feeding you — overfeeding you in fact. and you know why.

fatten up the stock so that it's in top shape when it's time to consume it.

“follow me” they say, holding the door open.

obediently, you follow the person you owe your life to, for now anyway, and they lead you through alleys and stairways you had never seen before.

only sounds of footsteps and your exhausted huffs can be heard in the hallway filled with various markings on the wall. you don't even want to know what they mean.

“so… how do i call you?” you manage to ask, maybe if you try to get close to them, maybe they can help a second time.

don't kid yourself.

no reply comes and you feel heat rush to your cheeks from embarassment. but hey at least you tried.

your wandering eyes missed to see them stop before a certain door and you crash into them with a grunt. they must be well built because the impact did not faze them at all.

“sorry” you rub your nose that was sore from bumping your face into their back.

“i go by uraume. i am master sukuna's loyal servant. beyond this door is the garden and you are to take a walk twice a day to build up your stamina. i shall be checking on you daily.”

“why should i need to do that?”

“do as you are told. now go” they open the door for you.

beyond the door is a garden too beautiful to belong in the palace of such an abominable being. flowers of all kind adjourn each corner, flourishing in all their bloosoming glory.

the sky was as clear as can be, with the sun brightly shining as if it's wishing people a good day. the birds chirping and the gentle breeze that brushes through your hair reminds you of your home back in the village and your heart aches a little.

“thankyou” you turn back but uraume is now long gone.

gee must people be so cold around here?

you stroll along the garden, savoring your time outside in so long. how long has it been exactly? you couldn't recall. maybe you should ask uraume the next time they come around.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

only this time when uraume does show up, they don't lead you towards the garden. instead, you find yourself at the door of the king of curses’ throne room.

uraume doesn't say a word and only ushers you in.

is this doomsday? you recall the screams of fear from the people you used to share a home with. the look on their faces, their nails desperately clinging onto the prison bar while pleading for mercy — all of that for naught.

and the silence that followed.

it's possible that the well timed meals and the strolls you took in the beautiful garden was the mercy your people begged for but never got.

maybe you should be thankful you even got to have those.

“master is impatient. you should go in right this instant” uraume insists. something about their behaviour tells you if you don't do as told, you'd have a fate worse than what you could ever think of.

with all the courage you could muster, you unlock the door and take strides into it, as confident as you could make it seem.

the four armed monster looms in front of you, starting down at you as if you were only a mere bug.

perhaps you were — small and helpless, under the mercy of the predator who had seen you.

you bow politely, it seemed like it was the only appropriate thing to do.

sukuna thinks you're pathetic.

just a mere human and not worth his time. there was only a small reason as to why he hasn't had his way with you yet.

your flesh and blood.

to him, you smelled hauntingly sweet and hypnotisingly alluring. that was what drew him to your village in the first place — the hunt for the sweet scent that awakened all his senses, although he doesn't have any idea why.

sukuna is a curious being, he seeks to know the mysteries of the world — one of the reasons why he's so wise, adding to his strength.

so until he has his answers, he plans to keep you around. after that, he can enjoy your flesh however he wants.

just you standing mere feet away from him was enough to tempt him to bite you already. how would it feel to sink his teeth into your skin and have your blood flow down his throat? sukuna couldn't wait until he has the chance to do so.

“leave.” the monster only dismisses you after staring at you so intently, he might as well be staring deep into your soul.

you look up at him in confusion, why would he call you here without any particular reason?

“do your ears not work, human?” sukuna says, rather impatiently.

“lower your gaze and know your place, fool” he practically growls and you look away faster than the speed of light. one more bow and you're bolting out the door.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

your stay at the palace was a cycle of eating, sleeping and taking strolls. it was beginning to get monotonous, boring even. but its much better than facing the king of curses ever again.

you still had no idea why he called you to his throne room and honestly, you don't even want to find out why.

life wasn't so bad — the flowers were beautiful and smelled lovely, the meals were scrumptious and your sleep? well nightmares were inevitable but there were nights when you slept like a log.

and unbeknownst to you, a certain four eyed creature could be seen watching over you. no, observing you. its only right for him to observe his prey right?

it's not out of the goodness of his heart that when you whimper and cry out in your sleep because of a weak nightmare curse looming over your head, he kills it with only a tilt of his own. no, it's only because that curse deters your well being, hence your development to reach your full potential to be a perfect feast for him. nothing more.

weak human, you don't have the means to kill such a low grade curse or even see it. so why were you special? what makes you so different than the other filthy beings with no cursed techniques roaming the earth? sukuna still couldn't tell.

he's aware though — of your silent fear and unspoken resentment you have towards him. he's aware of your quivering soul whenever you sense his presence. he's aware of your desire to escape this place.

but he's also aware of how your smile becomes a little more genuine when you smell a particular flower in his garden. he's aware of how your eyes soften when you see the setting sun. he's aware of how you tried to get close to uraume and only get shut out. he's aware of you.

and that angers him to no end.

what infuriates him even more is how that pathetic servant thinks he can talk to you, and with such ease too. how dare he speak lowly of you? that's a direct insult to him isn't it?

‘you mean less than a concubine?’ sukuna scoffs at him for even comparing you to one.

so the next time he calls the council for a lecture, he doesn't even blink one of his four eyes when the said servant in question gets slashed by his formidable cursed technique.

the room grows thick with the smell of blood that was now splashed all over the carpets and tapestry hanging on the wall—a grueling task for the cleaners later.

“every tongue that rises against my prey shall fall.” the headless body of his once loyal servant serve as testimony to his words.

the palace may be big but rumours flew around: another servant ruthlessly executed by the monstrous beast. even the people under him weren't given an ounce of consideration.

is it a coincidence that it was the same person who cornered you just a day ago? you don't ponder.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

after the ruthless slaughter of your village and everything in it, it didn't take long for sukuna to find his next target.

it wasn't anything new to anybody at all that he was a bloodthirsty beast, revelling in chaos and ruin. one after another, his victims were crushed mindlessly and so easily, it made you sick how powerless other people are in comparison to him.

out of all his battles and countless destruction, one prominent opponent was the fujiwara clan.

they were an elite clan, taking pride in the strength of their squadrons. the world held its breath upon hearing of the battle, maybe they had the potential to rival the king of curses.

the outcome didn't change though. sukuna remained prevalent—bringing the sun, moon and stars at his feet. the five empty generals did not even measure upto him.

the battle must have been so agonising to the point where the authorities were willing to hold festivals in his honour, out of utter terror.

it was at this harvest festival where sukuna had encountered a certain shameless sorcerer who was on her way to be completely obsessed with him.

yorozu had only one goal: to alleviate sukuna's loneliness with her love — something she believed only she was capable of.

thus why she leeches onto him, much like a hick. perhaps sukuna doesn't see her as a threat or he deems her powerful enough, he didn't get rid of her, for now at least.

however, her dreams were short lived.

yorozu sits next to sukuna in his throne room, enticing him with gentle nudges of her exposed chest. her haori was united and her hair fell graciously past her shoulders all the way down her chest.

she only shrieks in horror as she stares at the uninterested man. “you look different… you are different!” she screams angrily.

sukuna only hums in response, deep in thought of how his little prey has been holding up. despite his festivities and celebrations, you were there in the back of his mind, like an itch that cannot be quite scratched.

she stares at him, stepping back further and further “it couldn't be…”

yorozu brings herself to her knees, looking up at sukuna desperately. “i have so much more to teach you about love and the ultimate strength and solitude that it brings!”

she rises, her eyes were erratic, anyone would be afraid of her outburst that was about to come. anyone but sukuna.

“im the one who will teach you about love. that is my purpose and my goal. now tell me, who is it that is taking away your loneliness?”

sukuna raises a brow. it's possibly the only time he indulges yorozu’s antics and also the last.

“i will find out who it is! it doesn't matter if i have to tear this palace apart” yorozu violently darts out the room in search of something, anything. to her, if it was powerful enough to move sukuna then she would have no trouble finding whatever it is.

and she doesn't. not because you're too powerful but rather because of the lack of it. you stuck out like a sore thumb with no cursed energy running through your body, weak and unarmed just strolling across the garden— like the pathetic human you are.

sukuna arrives at the scene, ever observing, ever thinking.

“that is not true love” yorozu mutters, her fists were clenched on her sides as her gaze burnt into you who was unknowing of the fury burning inside her.

“you're mistaken, sukuna. i will show you what real love looks like!” yorozu screams, making her way towards you who could only stare at her in fear, frozen in place.

it would take sukuna less than a blink of his eye to stop her but he was intrigued. what would he feel if you were to be killed? would he feel pain? anger? the beast always finds his answers so he waits.

and what was that about true love? does that woman think he was capable of it? with you, no less? she sees you, a mere human, as a threat so that must mean something.

yorozu lands on you, digging her nails into your skin, blood gushing out of it. sukuna admires the sight.

you scream in agony as she continue to scratch through you and into you with ease. a maniac expression forms on her face at your slowed breaths and now silent helpless whimpers.

but before you were completely gone, sukuna gets rid of her. you were too busy holding onto your life to tell how he did it but one blink was enough for her to be gone and another makes you realise you were caged in the arms of the four armed monster.

“interesting” you heard sukuna say, before your lashes flutter and your eyes close against your will.

sukuna holds your limp body in his arms protectively with calculated gentleness as if a slight jerk would hurt you. well, in your state, it would.

upon watching you get torn apart, sukuna realises he isn't as heartless as he deemed himself. it drives him angry. how could a being as weak as you would have the capability to move him? how could you inflict pain onto him when you're the one who's at his mercy? he scoffs at how ridiculous it is all.

but when his eyes land on you– your fragile body almost lifeless and bleeding, his only thought was towards your safety and not towards devouring you, albeit the sweet scent of your blood tempting him and calling out to him to drink it.

he stares at his hands tainted with the pretty crimson colour, glistening in the sun but it pales in comparison to the way your eyes were shut as if you were only asleep. sukuna sighs, alright then.

his reversed cursed technique flows through his body into your own, healing the deep tears and cuts. he only hopes you aren't too angry at him for waiting that long to step in.

your staggered breathing was replaced with slow even ones and your wounds disappeared as if they had never been there in the first place. a peaceful expression forms on your face and all of sukuna's eyes soften.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you awaken you find yourself in the comfort of your own room making you doubt if everything that happened was a vivid dream. and you would have believed that doubt if not for the person sitting in the corner of your room, his four arms folded into each other.

you flinch upon seeing him and sit straight up, a groan escapes you involuntarily from your sore body.

“you're awake, brat” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.

you nod slightly, your eyes on anything besides him.

“how are you feeling?” this makes you jolt your head towards him because did he just ask about your well being? you would say you misheard but the frown and distaste on his face only confirms that he was, in fact, concerned about your condition somehow.

“im feeling alright” you say quietly, still a bit afraid of the man sitting in your room who could easily overpower you if he wanted.

“i should hope so. your weak body didn't take much to heal as easily injurable as it is” he sneers from the shadows that enveloped him.

“so it wasn't a dream?” your voice shook a little which doesn't go unnoticed.

“no. i have taken care of the matter. you may rest at ease” he rises to his feet, he looks way too big to feel safe around. you hug your blankets a little tighter. wait, when did you even have that many?

“do not fear. i do not intend to harm you.” two out of four eyes narrow at you and how scared of him you looked. sukuna doesn't like how that bothers him.

“how do i know that?” your eyes didn't meet him, rightfully so, if it was anyone else who questioned him, sukuna would waste no second getting rid of them altogether.

“it is i.” a viable answer – one that doesn't need any further explaination. sukuna maybe a merciless hard hearted being but he's also a man of his words. anyone who knows him would be aware of this fact.

“but i don't know you.”

he supposes you're right. in a way, nobody knows him. this was also why he remained so strong despite people and sorcerers alike sharpened themselves while fighting him. he did not have an opening to allow them to kill him.

“then you can start from this moment forward.”

“i don't want to.” for the first time, sukuna faces disappointment; but it's a different kind of disappointment. normally he would be discouraged at how nobody was able to stand a chance against him but now, he feels helpless. much like he was the prey and you're the predator.

“and your reason for that is?” ever so curious, he glowered at your body which had somehow become smaller amongst the sheets of blanket you're enveloped by.

“because then… then i will grow to understand you. if i do understand you then that would mean id find out you have a heart. someone with a heart would never… would never…” your voice trails away and you look horrified by the memories flooding your mind.

“so i don't want to know you.” you muster up enough courage to stare into his eyes, all of his eyes and sukuna can feel your soul tremble.

he only watched silently as you fidget under his watchful gaze. great. he's at a loss by someone who's terrified of him, how much more could you hit a blow to his pride.

without a word, he steps out of your room and he could hear you exhale. he huffs in annoyance at how tense you are in his presence. and your words. they might as well be your cursed technique attacking him with every enunciation that came from your mouth.

and they were working.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the world was somehow shifting. you couldn't exactly pinpoint where or how but it was.

“master has assigned you a new room that would be more comfortable for your stay” uraume says, standing in front of you in a polite stance. “please allow me to guide you there.”

if this is his attempt to make you forget about all the destruction he caused, for whatever reason, it was futile. he was irredeemable.

your thoughts might have been apparant on your face because uraume continues, “master says he does not have an ulterior motive. he simply wants you to be comfortable.”

since when did that beast care about other people's comfort except for his own?

“fine then, show me” if he offered, then there's no problem in accepting. heck maybe you should be taking advantage of his hospitality and ask for whatever you desire. he has put you on death's row and wiped of everyone you knew after all.

you were led to a room that was closer to the main area of the palace, a stark contrast to the basement of the kitchen — where you started from.

pieces of beautiful art were decorating each corner, finest tapestry hanging from the walls, and the curtains? they were of the best material you had ever known. no doubt, this was a room that exceeded even your dreams.

uraume opened the closet revealing kimonos of various kinds, from silk to linen to satin— every kind was there. “i was not aware of your taste so i assorted various kinds.”

you were amazed at the room, the materials – everything but these measly riches don't bring lives back and the monster certainly wasn't capable of any empathy so the words saying he has no ulterior motive were nothing but empty to you.

“what? have i been promoted from prey to concubine now?” the word alone makes you sick to your stomach but it's the only explanation that makes sense.

“you are very wrong. master does not keep concubines. it is only an extension of his kindness.” you laugh, sukuna? kindness? please.

four eyes narrowed at your bitter laugh, sukuna stands in the doorway, each of his two arms folded in each other. he has lost count of how much disrespect he tolerates from you but strangely, it does not give him a drive to kill, only annoyance.

a brow raises when you turn around after being aware of his presence and your laugh, as mocking as it was, dropped into a frown.

seeing how speechless you are, he huffs. from out of nowhere, he conjures up a bow and an arrow to go along with it. sukuna moves stealthily, one step and he's already next to you.

the bow and arrow are shoved into your hands “i have heard you are exceptionally good with these” sukuna says, his voice was low and calculating – if you hadn't known better, you'd say it quivered a little.

he wasn't wrong though, you had to hone some sort of hunting skill for food. life wasn't kind and you learnt it the hard way. nevertheless you felt safer with some kind of weapon you were familiar with, even though they won't be of much help against a sorcerer.

“master’s very own bow and arrow” uraume interrupted, their face had an expression of shock you had never seen on them before. there was an engraving on them– the same mark that sukuna had on his body.

“why give me this?” you ask and receive no answer. not because sukuna doesn't want to answer you, he simply doesn't have a reason. he just wanted you to have it. it felt natural. he'll be damned before he ever admits that to you or even to himself.

“what if i use it on you?” you press on, clutching onto the wooden weapon tightly. “what if i wanted to fire this at you?”

“i would let you.”

it caught you by surprise. why? you want to ask but you also didn't want to hear his reason. you don't want to know him. the little barrier you had put between you both is the only thing giving you leverage against such a vicious being, you couldn't afford to have it break down.

taking a quick abrupt step back, you line the end of the arrow to the bowstring and pull on it with an expert ease, aiming it at sukuna. uraume was about to step in but sukuna waves them off. as if the most feared curse user couldn't defend himself.

he could already have you breathing your last breath in a mere second if he wanted to but of course, he doesn't. he just stands there unmoving. his lack of response to your threat made you all the more aggravated.

“aren't you going to stop me?”

“no. proceed with whatever you intend to do, i shall not stop you.” sukuna's folded arms fell to his sides, giving you an open target for his heart.

now you should be firing your arrow with no hesitation right? you have hunted down countless moving targets from as small as a bird to something as big as a deer.

and they were running while you manage to hit a bullseye – every single time. so now this unmoving big target within just a few meters would be a piece of cake. it's your chance to end the tyranny of his wicked rule and him altogether– a chance that had not been granted to anyone who stands against him.

but your hands wouldn't move. they wouldn't let go of the string to propel the arrow towards him. they were frozen in place. you would have doubted uraume’s technique being in play but no signs of ice crystals found themselves anywhere near.

sukuna waits and you wonder if he was ever this patient.

your hands tremble, slowly letting your form down. why couldn't you just do it?

“human–”

sukuna's words were cut short by a swift arrow flying towards him. he didn't make a move to avoid it.

your trembling hands were now perfectly stable holding the bow. your breathing was calm, collected even. if anyone were to see you now, they'd wonder who the beast is. empty eyes deadpan at your target.

sukuna stares back, his cheek bleeding from the graze of the arrow. unlike your soul-less face, a satisfactory smile creeps onto sukuna's. “you didn't miss, did you? you aimed here on purpose.” his hands caress the small wound in awe.

“next time i wont.”

“as i have said, i will not stop you.”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the new room was comfortable, all your needs were tended to and your conduct exceeded your desires. you were treated equal to a queen, if you knew how.

and uraume, sukuna's loyal servant, was now your own. they were still very distant though, not speaking more than they needed to. not like you really minded anyway.

uraume was there to observe. they were under strict orders to keep you safe and also report your daily status to sukuna. you weren't exactly aware of this part but there's no harm done so by logic, there wasn't a problem with it either.

sukuna finds the corner of his mouth twitch when uraume mentioned that you sang obnoxiously loud because you thought nobody was around. he'd have loved to hear that himself.

the amusing brief about you was however rudely interrupted by a strange person brave enough to march directly into the throne room unannounced.

“you're from the kamo clan aren't you? have you come to die a meaningful death?” sukuna's thirst for battle heightened upon seeing a sorcerer from one of the three main clans in jujutsu. maybe finally, he can have a strong opponent and enjoy the fight without having it end too early.

but the man only chuckles “no, i have come here to negotiate with the almighty king of curses himself”

sukuna frowns, now staring at him unamused “you do not have anything worth a value to me. fight or die a pathetic death.”

“i will do neither of those.” noritoshi kamo, stands face to face with sukuna without a hint of fear in his eyes and that makes sukuna curious. just what kind of offer does he have to be so bold?

“prove that you are worth my time you filthy scum” sukuna glowers at the man, getting more and more impatient by the second.

“how about that prey? how is your little prey doing?” kamo smirks and it's enough to tempt sukuna to cut through his skull but no, he refrains because anything that involves you, sukuna doesn't take it lightly.

“speak up or i’ll have you slashed.” sukuna remarks impatiently.

“it would be a shame to have her taken away from you isn't it?” the old man sneers.

the next thing he knows is his ragged breath and a sharp pain across his chest, kamo falls to his knees. sukuna’s technique had manifested a cut through his chest, although not deep enough to end him. with blood oozing out of the fresh cut and his mouth, he still has the courage to glare at the four eyed creature.

“you must not value your life” sukuna says nonchalantly, leaning against one of his hand, the grotesque sight was nothing new to him at all.

“your reign is coming to an end isn't it?” kamo laughs, although it comes out through splutters of blood. “no matter how powerful you are, you are not immortal sukuna, you still won't defeat death!”

as if sukuna is one to fear death. sukuna only sighs, revelling in the bloodied state of his intimidator.

“and your little human toy won't either” that earns a reaction from him. sukuna's eyes narrow at the pitiful man fighting for his life.

“what are you suggesting?”

“what if i tell you– that there is a way for you to be immortal? and that it's possible to find her in every lifetime?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

everyone who knows sukuna knows that he does not get hurt. or yet, there's nobody who's strong enough to hurt him. generation upon generation, sorcerers have teamed up to get rid of him but with no luck. not even one of them could land a hit on the ferocious being.

all the more reason for you to be speechless when he returns with a huge hole in his stomach, bleeding continuously.

it was during your stroll that you saw him staggering over to his room.

okay maybe that was a lie. maybe you'd heard that a very prominent sorcerer in the jujutsu society had challenged him. you didn't know much about that world but it was enough to worry you, even if sukuna was undefeated.

so maybe that worry brings you into a situation where he arrived just while you were taking a stroll in the garden. you definitely didn't purposely take longer to watch the birds fly back to their nest in hopes of making sure sukuna returns. definitely not.

that's also NOT why you're knocking on his door boldly.

the door opens, revealing a confused sukuna. your eyes dart down to his injury but it seems the blood had stopped, still looking nasty regardless.

you wince just by looking at it but sukuna interrupts your unwarranted examination. “eyes here human. what do you want?”

for someone who's supposed to be prey, you're bold because in the next moment, you find yourself pushing through the door and asking him to sit down.

yes. you— a mere human, barged through his room and asked him to sit. when he doesn't comply, you walk up to him, pulling on one of his hands, guiding him towards his chair and sat him down. and strangely, no hint of protest came from him – not even a grunt or a growl.

with familiar ease, you call in uraume and ask for an emergency kit. they hesitate but comply regardless.

your expert hands slowly disinfect the wound and start stitching it up, not even sparing a glance at the man who just watches you and lets you do whatever you want to him.

“where have you garnered skills to do this?” sukuna asks mid stitch and it's only then that you realised he hasn't done so much as flinch. you could imagine how painful it would've been for a normal human but apparently this counts for nothing to him.

“when you're desperate enough, you just know” the last string goes through his flesh and you tie a knot, snapping the thread off. your movements slow when you realise you're touching him– skin and all, with your own.

your eyes lock when you search for his and they stare back. this time, you don't see a vicious brute but in its place, you see the eyes of a man. and not just any man, if you allowed your thoughts to wander you'd say it was the same look of a man capable of love.

but you don't – you look away. and sukuna's could feel a slight pull in his chest.

“human.”

“i have a name”

“human.”

the disregard for your name only makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. the man only chuckles at the sight.

“you do realise i can heal myself?”

a pause. of course how could you forget? reversed cursed technique they call it? all these magical powers granted to them made no sense to you at all. you only stare at the wall dumbfounded as sukuna downright laughs at your humiliated expression.

“why didn't you stop me then?” your grumble only amuses him further.

“perhaps because i wanted you to acknowledge how foolish you are?” his tone was teasing and not a hint of malicious intent was within it. a smile creeps on your lips and sukuna could swear his heart rate accelerated.

“i could show it to you if you're curious” your wide eyes give him all the confirmation he needed. sukuna rises on his feet, the prior horrid injury long forgotten.

“you could… take off the bandages. if they aren't effective anyway since you can heal” you shrug, trying to brush off your wholly service that was in fact not required in the first place.

“i rather they stay.” his hands graze them gently and you could swear he smiled at the pitiful mounts of cotton plastered on his abdomen.

“come. allow me to show you what im capable of.” he offers you a hand, out of the many he has and his shoulder slumps in relief when you take it without any protest.

he takes you outside and leads you towards your favourite spot in the garden. you don't let yourself wonder if it's a coincidence or not.

“see that fruit?” he gestures to a ripe apple hanging on its tree – super red and just the perfect size.

“yeah want about it?” you tilt your head towards him curiously making sukuna more enthusiastic to show you his perfectly crafted technique.

an invisible slash cuts the single fruit out of the tree, making it fall. it was barely noticeable and you'd think it fell on its own if not for the perfect slices it has all while it landed in the palm of your hands.

your wide eyed gaze only delights the man responsible for it. you take one slice off and admire the precision “you did this?? no way!”

sukuna heaves his chest proudly. strangely, your adulation to his antic gives him so much more satisfaction than wiping out an entire village.

“wait till you see this” sukuna takes a step back, his lips quirking up into a tight smirk upon seeing your expectant expression.

he places his hands together and gestures up signs that were not familiar to you. “fuga « open »” his low voice chants while fire manifests into the palm of his hands. he moulds the flames skillfully as it takes the shape of an arrow – a fire arrow.

and you're left with your mouth agape, he was truly terrifying. such bright flames don't even burn him but instead falls into his command.

sukuna likes the way you stare at him in wonder and was tempted to tell you that he created this very technique in honour of you and your bold decision in grazing his cheek with your arrow but for now, he holds his tongue and lets you admire as long as you want.

when the flames burn away, you're still in a haze— staring at the man in front of you with diluted pupils: one might think you're in love.

as sukuna focuses his eyes into your own, he's certain he could see into your soul which grows a little more familiar to him everytime he sees you. no it's not how he feels the familiar terror in someone's soul when they tremble in fear of him just as he was about to take their life.

it's not the same shudder of fear he used to feel when he's around you. this time, it's inviting. he feels he could be stripped of his technique and just be a normal being if it meant he could submerge himself in it.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

sukuna used to anticipate how he would die. he wanted to meet someone who would be strong enough to give him a formidable death fit for the most evil being to tread the world. news of fresh generation of strong sorcerers would excite him.

but the moment he knew he was entranced by you, that prior excitement was now replaced by fear. not fear for his death but rather, for yours. if anything were to happen to him, who would protect you?

it doesn't help how his enemies were catching hints on his possible weakness now. it all started with that damn bastard from the kamo clan, whom sukuna swears to kill. him and everybody else that could pose as a threat to you, he swears he will kill them all.

a little part of him also starts to fear for his own end. he fears that no matter how long he lives, he might think he doesn't have enough time with you. how could he when you're here, showing the sides or the world he never knew existed? the same world you weaved with every gentle word you say, no matter how insignificant.

sukuna can't get enough of the small smiles that were appearing more frequently when he reaches out to hold your tiny hand in his big ones.

he can't get enough of your soft snores when you're asleep in his chest– no more nightmares haunting your sleep because as long as he's around, any curse would have to fight him to get to you. no curse was bold enough to do so.

and mostly, he can't get enough of your small gentle strokes across his face. your touch was feather light and curious but so so loving that even when your hands were about to be pulled away, his own grabs them and makes them stay.

sukuna has nothing at all to base it off of, but if he had to name what he's feeling right now, it would be along the lines of complete devotion to you – in other words, he suspects it's the feeling these weak humans and yozoru keep preaching about: love.

and he's not denying it– not to himself at least or he can't. during his recent battles, he observes himself ending it as quick as possible.

instead of luxuriating in the thrill of battle, he finds himself rushing to kill his opponent – to end it as quick as it was humanely possible because every second he spends away from you is a second wasted.

he was becoming more precise and ruthless now that he has something to protect.

that's why even when you ask about his murder streak and if he could lessen it, he just ruffles your hair and tells you not to worry.

any sorcerer who has gotten close enough to land their sights on you were brutally tortured until they give up on their life altogether.

however, life can be funny at times. his own fear for your well being is possibly responsible for the curse that now latches onto you, consuming and draining the life out of you and sukuna's forced to watch as you slowly became a husk of who you used to be. so really, it's not funny at all.

he feels helpless and he is. none of the cursed techniques he has could exorcise the curse blooming inside you and spreading through your veins.

he has been warned before and he didn't care. he never fathomed to ever find someone to love so he traded his soul for his fervent reign – a binding vow: any being whose soul remotely gets near his own would ruin itself without any means for its resurrection.

another condition of the vow was for him to forget about it only after it was too late. at the time the vow was made, sukuna had thought, no, he'd known he lucked out by a power at the price of such a feeble condition but now… now he knows how gut wrenchingly wrong he was.

sukuna slumps in defeat at the sight of your weak body fighting itself. all his four hands encased one of yours as he listens to your staggering breaths that slowly becomes more faint than the last.

for the first time, no matter how tainted his hands were of from the numerous people he murdered in cold blood, sukuna finds himself praying; not for salvation or forgiveness but for your suffering to be placed onto him instead.

he has just found happiness with you, and in you, had just started to learn how to love someone so much that all his wicked ways were something he wished he never did. he had been stupid and arrogant – too arrogant. he was sure the heaven and whole generations of people he killed were now laughing at him drowning in his own misery. how the tables have turned on him and humbled him.

“kuna..” your barely audible voice mades him lean closer to your face, one of his large hands coming up to caress your face delicately.

“human. save your energy” sukuna scolds but his tone was not demanding by any means. it was desperate, desperate for just one more second of you.

a faint smile ghosts your almost now deathly pale face “it's not your fault.” you manage to cough out through staggering breaths.

sukuna's world might as well stop. it was his fault, everything was his fault. from the moment he caught a whiff of your sweet sweet blood to when he looked at you as nothing but prey to the moment when you became the sole reason for his existence, it was all his doing. he has taken you and tangled you amidst the string of despair.

his head shakes in denial, no words coming out of both his two mouths. so much to say, so many ways to say it but nothing.

but you know, the four pupils staring at you take the form of hearts, and that tells you everything. it could be just an illusion you'd heard people speak of on the verge of death but it's enough for you.

your sweet blood slowly looses its essence as you close your eyes, the last light inside you leisurely fading away.

“oi human” sukuna calls but there was no response.

“answer me” a plea.

still no answer as your hand slowly goes limp in his own. there was silence and nothing. so much of nothing that was unfamiliar in the otherwise air of curiousity that always surrounded you.

“human.” sukuna's voice wavers as his hands come to cup your too peaceful face. he searches for any signs of life but he finds none. before he knew it, a drop of water landed on your clueless yet beautiful features, then another and another.

the monster was crying. not just crying – he wept.

his entire body shakes as he lets out his pain, holding onto you desperately as if that would bring you back.

“human” he dries away his own tears on your face and brushes away the hair that dared hide even a portion of it.

“you're not a curse. you have never been. you were my blessing, my salvation. you are the best thing that have ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved.”

sukuna trembled in grief at your loss. the king of curses– reduced to a man in love.

perhaps he wasn't the cannibal here. perhaps you were the one who slowly teared him apart and consumed his very being– merging yourself into his core without him even realising it.

but one thing he knows for sure is that if he were to do it again, he'd let himself be devoured entirely by you. over and over again. to be loved is to be consumed and he's offering himself to you, flesh and bones on a silver platter.

“until next time, my love.” he leans in and places a fragile kiss onto your forehead and that's the first and last time he has a taste of you.

with the last drop of your blood running dry and the absence of the warmth that made you, you; sukuna finds his answer – the reason why your blood tasted so sweet was because he was made to crave it. something he could quench his thirst with but never getting the chance to do so; a punishment perfectly fit for him.

“your deal. i shall agree to it on a condition” sukuna glowers at kamo who only smirks with an ‘i told you so’ written all over his face. sukuna would have slashed him to bits if it weren't for the agreement he agreed to take up on.

“i shall trade my soul to become a curse only if i get reincarnated exactly a thousand years from now” sukuna proposes, no, commands. it is said that a soul is reincarnated only once every thousand years and he wants to make sure he finds you in the next lifetime. maybe then, he'll have enough time with you and if he's lucky enough, be able to love you without bounds.

“that could be arranged” kamo quirks his head in a way sukuna despises. “but she'll have no memory of you. you're proceeding with this knowledge, yes?”

sukuna only narrows his eyes and ignores his question “that is not all. erase her existence from the minds of everyone besides me. generations hence, no one shall know who she is. her name shall be removed from every mouth that speaks of my reign.”

kamo smiles lazily “your soul is not worth that much sukuna”. the man strolls freely in the room, not minding the looming presence of the king of curses. “however, a binding vow could be arranged.”

great. another binding vow. but if that means he'll meet you in a thousand years time, he'll vow as many times as required.

“the grounds of the vow is as follows: you shall be reincarnated only if there appears a vessel suitable to withstand you.” kamo proposes. “your fingers will be cut and hidden in vast areas across the world and you shall only succeed in full reincarnation if you find them and consume them, all while being suppressed by the vessel.”

sukuna frowns and kamo only laughs “do you agree to the vow knowing all the risk it carries?”

conditions and regulations were a pain but nothing could stop a man desperate enough to give up his soul twice. “very well” sukuna agrees.

and that is how the heian era and sukuna's legacy came to an end; sealing himself – and the memories of you only he carries with him – into his twenty fingers, each of which turned into cursed objects scattered far and wide like pieces of puzzle waiting until the time comes for it to fit itself together again.

[strang3lov3]

Phone a Friend

Joel Miller x fem Reader

Summary: A story involving two sexually frustrated assholes and how they resolved the tension. (Alternatively, Joel is sick of you keeping him up late at night with your hand between your thighs)

Warnings: Smut, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, PIV, the softest of soft dom joel, masturbation, spanking, slight perv!joel, sleazy!joel, implied age gap probably, enemies? with benefits?? Idiots in luuuurrve

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Was thinking of doing an enemies to lovers story and then thought, fuck it. Enemies AND lovers. Thank you @speckledemerald for proofreading!

please please please comment/reblog if you enjoy, i love reading the sweet things you say <3

It was amusing at first.

The first time it happened Joel was in bed reading a nice book Ellie picked out for him. He was just about to doze off, the words on the page illuminated by the warm light of his lamp began to blend together. 

“Oh,” 

It caught Joel off guard. And then a few more, quicker and breathier. 

“Oh, fuck,”

Frustrated moans spilling from your lips, right in the next room. They continued for an hour and Joel listened with an amused smile curling his lips as he palmed his bulge. He followed along with your moans, using your sweet noises to work himself up. He removed his cock from the confines of his plaid pajamas and stroked himself, every breathy moan of yours pushing him further and further to the edge. Joel had no issue coming in a timely matter, but you? You let out noises of frustration for what seemed like hours before finishing with a frustrated groan. And then silence.

Thin walls, what can you do?

The next morning Joel said nothing, just quietly sipped his coffee while you were slamming doors and cabinets and stomping around the kitchen. You had yelled out a perfectly crafted string of curse words, something like “Motherfucking piece of shit can’t toast one goddamn slice of bread without having a fucking aneurysm!” followed by “Cocksucking bastard of a toaster!” before you slammed your fist on the countertop.

Joel just smiled to himself in his coffee mug, knowing exactly why you were in such a charmingly pleasant mood. 

You had broken your dominant hand’s wrist a few weeks ago, and it was still healing. You couldn’t do much of anything with it, not write with a pencil or flip a pancake or butter a piece of bread. You had started trying to use your nondominant hand for more, but that had proved to be futile with mundane daily tasks. 

Apparently it wasn’t working very well in between your thighs either, Joel had deduced.

Joel just got up from his seat at the table, silently futzed with the toaster, then placed two slices of bread in for you. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

You didn’t bother replying, too frustrated in the early hours of the morning to entertain him. 

The routine happened nightly for weeks. 

Joel would be in bed, sleeping or reading. Your frustrated moans would wake him up, and he’d be rock hard at the dead of night. He’d jerk himself off tiredly, and then still spent hours listening to you continue to play with yourself. He’d be exhausted the next morning, sick of you inadvertently getting him all hot and bothered, and you’d be seeing red as you stomped around and slammed cabinets in maddening frustration.

It was amusing at first. Really. 

But it got old quickly.

Once, at breakfast, the situation was addressed. After a particularly long night of listening to your moans, Joel was practically falling asleep in his over-easy eggs and toast. “Morning, sunshine!” you said. He had said something rude and off handed to you in response, to which you replied “Aren’t you a fucking peach this morning?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Whatever,”

“I said, shut up,” Joel was the picture of exhaustion. Heavy bags under his eyes, a distant look in his pupils. One of his hands pinched the bridge of his nose as he furrowed his brows.  

“What’s your deal?”

“You,” he responded, not missing a beat. He decided the night before enough was enough, and you and he were going to share a conversation about noise levels.

Your brows knit together in confusion. Before you could ask, Joel interrupted. “Thin walls, darlin’,”

“What are you-”

“Fuckin’ playing with yourself all night. I hear you, you know,” He removed his hand from his face and stared at you with an irritated expression, his eyes boring into your own.

Your face heated up in embarrassment. “Jesus, Joel,”

“S’okay, hon. We all do it. But some of us like to do so with a bit more consideration for others, hmm?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,”

“You’re too loud,” Joel stated plainly. “And you take for-fuckin’-ever. Might as well make you come myself. Lord knows I do it better than you.” 

You glared at him, beside yourself that he was bringing that up. It’s not enough to embarrass you for masturbating, apparently.

You and Joel had a tricky relationship, to say the least.

He was simultaneously the person you trusted most in the world, and the biggest piece of shit you knew. He was arrogant, brash, and rude. He thought you were annoying and naive, and yet, you still slept with each other.

It was a night of drinking gone too far. One thing led to another, and then another. Before you knew it you were naked and tangled in each other's limbs, whimpering and moaning praises into his skin. You told him the next morning that it was a mistake and that it would never happen again. 

And then you’d do it again, of course. And again, and again.

Fucking Joel left you feeling full of all sorts of complicated things. You were sleeping with your enemy, and it was fucking incredible. He learned to play with your body perfectly, knowing exactly how to touch you to get you to fall to pieces for him. He could make you come embarrassingly quickly, melting for him in mere moments with the most feather-light and gentle touches. But he still drove you absolutely mad.

After each time, you told him the same thing: it would never happen again. But like clockwork, it would. After a bad date or another night of drinking too much, you’d be back where you started. Under him, on top of him. It didn’t matter. 

At this point, you and Joel hadn’t had sex in a few months. Your longest spell yet. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of it a few times, wishing for his skilled fingers instead of yours. But this time, this time would be different. You were determined to quit your addiction, even if the withdrawals were miserable. 

“My god, you’re an asshole,” you stood up from your seat angrily and put your plate into the kitchen sink. It fell with a loud clatter.

“I know you’d like it,” he said with a bite of food in his mouth. Gross, you thought. For a man who’s always on Ellie’s ass about manners, he sure didn’t have much of his own.

“You wish, dickhead,” you scolded, putting on your boots and lacing them up. “Fuck you. You try getting off with a broken wrist,”

“Wouldn’t have to. I’d just phone a friend, sweetheart. You should try it,” God, his smirk. His fucking shit-eating grin. You could slap it right off his excruciatingly handsome face. 

You rolled your eyes and put on a jacket, leaving Joel without saying goodbye. 

That night, while in bed, you decided to fuck with him for being such an asshole to you that morning.

With your hand between your thighs, you moaned loudly. Right into the wall. High pitched and unrealistically. Annoyingly. It was the middle of the night, surely waking Joel up.

Joel pounded on the wall with his fist. “Oh, that’s very mature,” he yelled, his voice muffled by the barrier. “Knock it off.”

You just moaned louder, more obnoxiously. Joel slammed on the wall. You were dicks to each other the next day, constantly at each other’s throats. 

You did this dance for a while. Was it ridiculous and completely unreasonable? Yes. But so was Joel. And you, for that matter. Fuck being the bigger person, this was Joel Miller you were dealing with.

Tonight, Joel was supposed to go to the bar with Tommy, but he had canceled. Stomach flu, said Tommy. So instead, Joel had a quiet night in. After dinner, he got into bed and picked up his book from his nightstand. 

He was about half an hour into reading when he heard you moan. And then you did it again. 

“Very funny” he grumbled to himself, tapping on his wall lightly. He was tired and didn’t have the energy to do another silly moaning/wall pounding argument. 

You didn’t stop. Truthfully, you didn’t hear him. You thought he was out with Tommy, nobody had let you know that plans were changed. 

Your moans were different tonight, Joel noticed. Not obnoxiously loud to piss him off. Just genuine, regular moans of pleasure. He decided to give you a break, let you let off some steam without him giving you shit for it. 

But then he heard it. 

Joel. 

Clear as day. His name, whimpered from your lips. He missed it dearly, how sweet his name sounded rolling off your tongue. Memories of his arms wrapped around you tightly while you’d whisper his name like a prayer into his neck. 

And that’s when he gets an idea.

He tiptoes out of bed, straight to your room. He twists the handle of your door, thanking god the lock is broken. Joel’s quiet, silent as he tiptoes to your bed. There’s a dim light illuminating your face, your eyes are scrunched tightly shut as you work sloppy circles into your clit, still moaning Joel’s name. 

He’s right next to you now, and taking a seat on your bed. “Moanin’ f’me and I ain’t even touchin’ you,” he whispers as he puts a hand on your bare leg. 

Your eyes fly open and you jump, nearly kicking him. “Joel!” you gasp. “What the fuck are you-”

“Thin walls,” he reminds you, though it’s not really an answer to your question. “Was that my name I heard you whispering?”

You shake your leg from his touch and sit up, covering yourself. “Jesus, Joel. No,” you spit, shooting daggers at him. “Get the fuck out.”

“Right,” he says, blatantly refusing to acknowledge your request. “Coulda’ told me you were missin’ my cock.” Joel’s hand returns to your leg, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin. You kick his hand away again. Presumptuous piece of shit.

Heat is rising to your cheeks and you continue to glare at him with pure hatred. “You wish. I don’t miss any part of you,” you hiss. 

“Oh, how you wound me, sweetheart,” Joel clutches a hand to his heart sarcastically. 

“I am not doing this with you. Get out. Now,” you demand. You’re not entertaining this asshole and his flagrant violation of your privacy. 

Joel chuckles. “No. I’m not leavin’ yet,”

“Why?”

“Because you keep me up night after fuckin’ night. I’m not leavin’ until I know you’re finished,”

You don’t have the time or energy for this bullshit. “Joel, move,” you warn, kicking into his thigh with your foot. But he doesn’t budge. 

You think for a second, taking in the situation. Joel’s watched you come a million times before. And he looks fucking sexy tonight, his plaid pajama pants hanging low on his hips, giving you a perfect view of his happy trail. He’s not wearing a shirt, his salt and pepper hair is a curly bed-headed mess. His eyes are darkened with lust, sparkling in the dim light. His hand has returned to your ankle, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have some eye candy as you pleasure yourself.

“Fine,” you concede. “I come, you leave me alone, and we both go to sleep after.”

He shoots you a sly smile. “That’s my girl,” he whispers, pulling you closer and separating your thighs. His touch on your skin is electric and sends desire shooting through your veins, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you feel good again. If he wants to torture you, you’ll do it right back to him.

“You’re not touching me,” you say flatly, wrapping your fingers around his wrists and pushing him away from your thighs. “I’m doing this myself.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Joel replies. He figured you’d say that, seeing as how stubborn you can be. “You just come for me and I’ll be on my merry way.”

“I’m coming for me. Not you, Joel,”

“Hmm, s’that right?”

“Yup,”

You’re silent then, unsure of the logistics of this sexual endeavor. Joel’s seen you in so many vulnerable positions, tasted your most intimate places and heard your most desperate moans. Still, you’re shy. Masturbating for someone else is vastly different than being an active participant in sex.

And his eyes, good fucking lord. Staring at you intensely like you’re artwork. Or rather, an artist. Desperately waiting to see the way you paint circles on your clit.

Fuck it. With a deep breath in and then a deep breath out, you rip the bandaid off and begin. You close your eyes, unable to look into Joel’s piercing gaze any longer. Your fingers begin trailing under your shirt, pinching and twisting at your nipples gently. You lean into your touch, your hand slides further down the soft skin of your tummy and then your tuft of coarse hair, finally settling at your cunt. 

You’re not quite wet yet, you realize as your fingers grace your entrance to gather your arousal. Rather hurriedly, you bring your fingers to your lips and cover them in saliva before returning to your center. You adjust slightly, spreading your legs wider. And then you begin. 

You start with slow circles orbiting your clit, somehow over sensitive and yet not feeling enough. You quicken your pace, then slow down again. And then speed up. All the while, letting out frustrated grunts and moans. 

“Need some help, sweetheart?” Joel’s voice interrupts.

You let out an exhausted groan at the way he breaks your concentration, as if you were close at all. “No, just shut the fuck up,” you hiss, not opening your eyes to meet his gaze. You wonder if you offended him, but you don’t really care. Joel can go scratch for all you give a shit.

You continue your actions, circling your clit with your fingers. And it just doesn’t feel right. It’s fumbling, awkward. You wish you had your other hand between your thighs. Really, you’re dying for Joel to touch you. It’s his skilled fingers you want tracing circles into your clit. But you remain firm in your protest of his pleasure. 

“Doin’ it wrong,” his voice interrupts. He says it flatly, like it’s so glaringly obvious. Like he would fucking know, you think. Except, deep down you know that he does know. 

He reaches forward and adjusts your fingers to better suit your needs, and you gasp when his fingers touch your skin. “Try that,” he whispers. 

And so, without changing the placement of your fingers, you continue. It’s…better. Much better, actually. But you’re still struggling to get even a hair closer. 

“Look at you,” Joel whispers tauntingly. “No wonder you can’t come. You don’t know what you’re doin’ with all this. Need me to take care of this pretty pussy.”

“I most certainly do not,” you huff, irritated with his pompous and smug attitude. You gasp as you feel one of his fingers tease your entrance, slowly pushing inside. 

“Really?” Joel teases with a tantalizing tone. He curls his finger inside you, finding that spot that makes your head spin as you continue your circles. Your hips jut upward in search of more, more, more. “Don’t you want me to make it all better for you?”

“N-no,” you stutter in response, still bucking him. 

“That’s fine,” he mumbles, removing his finger. You whine at the loss, reaching your hand to grasp at his and put it back at your center.  

“No, no, don’t stop,” you whine, voice wrecked and desperate.

“Can you ask nicely?”

Oh, fuck him. “Please,” you rasp out, opening your eyes to meet his. He looks so fucking cocky, wearing a smug grin as he pushes two of his thick fingers in you with ease this time. You’re much, much wetter than you were before. 

He pushes upward inside you repeatedly, fingers dancing in your wet heat. It’s deplorable, loathsome, the way you melt under his touch. 

“Wanna know what your problem is, honey?” His voice is soft and syrupy sweet, and you hate that stupid charming affectation he puts on.

“No,” you breathe. “Just make me-”

“I’ll tell you what your problem is,” he interrupts. Dickhead. “You ain’t gentle with yourself. Need to be more patient,”

“Joel, for the love of god,” your voice is strained as he continues teasing you, his touch feels infinitely better than your own but he’s holding back, not yet giving you what he knows you need so desperately. 

“Pretty pussy like this needs love, sweetheart,”

You ignore him and buck your hips into his hand, needing more than what he’s giving you. “Joel, shut up and make me come,”

He swats your ass. “You ask me nice, now,” he instructs. 

You roll your eyes as far back as they can go, and comply with his unreasonable request. “Please,”

“Please what?”

“Please shut up and make me come,” you snap.

“God, you’re a fuckin’ delight,” he says sarcastically, irritated. “You wanna try that again?” He begins pulling his hand away, threatening to leave you high and dry. He knows he’s your only way of finishing tonight. 

“Fuck, please. I just wanna come,” you sigh, defeated and exhausted. It’s been an eternity since you had a proper orgasm, and you just want to come. If only the man getting you off wasn’t such a tool. “Please.”

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” Joel taunts, smiling. He pulls you close, pushing your shirt up to play with your plump breasts. He grabs a handful, and begins kissing your inner thighs, kissing down, down…

You gasp when you feel him press a kiss to your sex, his fingers now twisting and teasing your nipples as his tongue explores every inch of your slick folds. Not that he needs to experiment at all, he has your body memorized. Every fucking inch of you. 

He fucks you with his fingers as he kisses your pussy, tonguing your slick folds and licking up every last drop of your sweet arousal. 

“Fuck, yes Joel. Just like that,” you breathe, pushing your hips into his face. His nose and mouth are hidden by your body, his eyes are intense and teasing when he raises his brows in amusement. Honestly, he thought you’d take longer to crack. But here you are, whimpering his name with every flick of his tongue and his fingers on your sensitive nipples, twisting and teasing them just so. 

He takes a moment to just taste you, get his fill of you before finishing you off. He flattens his tongue against you, then points it into your clit. He spends moments alternating between the actions, savoring every inch of you. The way you moan, the way your insides flutter around his fingers. The wet noises of your pussy are downright pornographic as he devours you and you can feel his devious smirk against your pussy.

When he’s satisfied, Joel wraps his plump lips around your sensitive bud gently, still flicking his tongue against you. You fall to pieces instantaneously, your thighs tremble and shake as your orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” is about all you remember how to say when you come on his tongue. He has this effect on you, making you forget how to speak. It’s even worse now. 

You’re a mess of heaving breaths and whimpers as you ride out your long-awaited orgasm on his tongue. All you can do is cry his name as he overstimulates your pussy before he finally slows, kissing up your body and neck. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips and you taste yourself on his tongue, suddenly feeling bashful.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear. He pulls away then and leaves your room, just as he promised. 

His footsteps fade out as he returns to his own room, his cock painfully hard and leaking precum. You’re still in bed, not yet fully satiated. 

You know what you need. As if you haven’t been a needy mess for him enough already. You’re an addict, completely powerless against your addiction. You wince as you get out of bed, following his footsteps as you contemplate the kind of sickening satisfaction you’re about to give him. 

Joel looks surprised when you enter his room, but you say nothing as you walk up to him. He’s tall and imposing above you, staring you down with an eyebrow cocked in interest, wondering if you’re about to do what he thinks you’re about to do.

You shove a hand down his pants, his cock is achingly stiff. You palm him, pushing him back towards the bed as your other hand tries to push down his pajama bottoms. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” he stops you, grabbing ahold of your hand on his dick. “Thought you said you didn’t miss my cock,”

“I don’t,” you reply firmly. 

“Then what’s your hand doin’ down my pants?”

You mumble incoherently, babbling something about just needing to fuck him. He stops you, “You can just ask, baby. I don’t mind givin’ you a little extra lovin’ if that’s what you need,”

You nod, unable to form a coherent thought. 

“Words, my love,” he reminds you. 

“Please,” 

“Please what?”

“I need you,” 

“Why?”

You groan angrily, tired of his boorish act. You push him on the bed and kneel between his legs. “I don’t know,” 

“Because like it or not, I make you feel good. Right?” Joel taps your cheek, encouraging you to look into his eyes. “I take good care of your pussy, don’t I?”

“You do,” you mumble under your breath. 

“Couldn’t hear ya, need ya to speak up f’me. Got bad ears, sweetheart,”

“You do,” you say a little clearer this time. 

“One more time. Who takes care of you?”

Oh, you could kill him. He must think this is so funny, watching you squirm and try to spell it all out. But then you remember, with his aching cock in your hand, you don’t have to listen to this. You have the power to shut him up. 

You pull his cock out of his pants quickly and part your lips over the blushed tip, tasting his salty precum on your tongue. He loses himself, gasping at the feeling of your tongue circling his tip and tracing thick veins as you lower your head down his cock. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this. 

“Ffff-” he hisses, one of his strong hands tangling in your hair. You’re using your mouth just how he likes, sucking him and swirling your tongue on his shaft. He’s breathing deeply, his soft tummy hitting your forehead with every deep breath he takes. 

You relish in the feeling of him falling apart for you, but more importantly the silence. The sexiest thing about Joel is when he shuts the fuck up. 

Your nose brushes the tuft of hair surrounding him, pushing yourself deeper and deeper, as deep as you can go. You hollow your cheeks, using your soft and wet mouth to massage him. You feel him twitch in your mouth, and he yanks you up by your arms, spit dribbling down your chin. 

Both of you are silent, save for your panting breaths and moans. No words need to be spoken, both of you know exactly what you’re needing. You’ve done this dance a million times before and have memorized a routine.

You straddle Joel’s thighs, centering yourself over his cock. You reach down to grab it and line yourself up, but something changes in Joel. In a swift motion, Joel flips you over on your tummy and presses down on your head with his big hand, using the other to pull your ass up to his cock. You gasp in surprise.

“Stay like that,” he instructs you. “Don’t move.”

You feel so exposed like this, on display and waiting for him to fuck you. Joel shimmies off his pajamas and kneels behind you, dragging the tip of his cock through your slick folds to gather your arousal. Despite the way your cunt drips for him, it’s not enough. 

Roughly, he pulls you up by your neck and shoves a palm under your mouth. “Spit,” he commands. 

And so you spit into his palm, feeling blood rush to your tummy in nervousness. He’s never been this way with you before.

“We’re doin’ things my way,” you hear him growl as he smears your saliva over his cock. “Been listening to you play with yourself for too damn long.”

“Joel,” you whine, arching your back and pushing into his hips. He swats your ass just enough to sting slightly, not hurting you too bad. 

“Shut up,” he says, pushing his tip into your center and dragging it through your folds. “I think,” he starts, notching his tip in your entrance. “I think when you come from now on, it’s gonna be ‘cause I let you.”

You can only mumble in response, head going fuzzy at his words. All you can think about his how much you need to be fucked. 

“Think you need to learn some self control,” he begins pushing in at an absolutely achingly slow pace. Millimeter by millimeter.

“Joel, move,” you demand with a groan, ignoring his words and pushing your hips back. He holds your hips  tightly, not allowing you to move further. You’re so needy, so ready to just be fucked hard, the way you picture him each night. Pounding into you mercilessly.  

“See, now that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” he chides you. “No patience.”

Joel continues pushing into you at a slow pace, letting you feel every inch of his member. He stretches your hole deliciously, allowing you to feel completely full. “Remember what I said? Gotta be gentle, like you love it,”

You’re breathing deeply, waiting for more. Joel pulls out, then slides back in with ease. He’s still going slow, but with enough force that you grunt when he bottoms out inside you. 

“That’s it,” he purrs. He watches his cock disappear inside you, then pulls out again. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

He begins fucking you at a steadier pace, somehow finding a happy medium between gentle and rough. “Feelin’ good?”

You’re at a loss for words. You feel all of him, every stroke so fluid yet firm. It’s nearly perfect. “Yes, Joel. Need more, please,”

“Oh, listen to that. Askin’ me nicely,” he says as he picks up his pace. “See what happens when you’re good to me?”

“Mhm,” you choke out. The way he fucks you is brutally delicious, just how you need it. He knows your body like the back of his hand.

“I promise I only wanna help, sweetheart. I know what’s best for you, don’t I?”

You abandon every ounce of protest in your body. Normally you’d bite back to his audaciousness with some quippy remark. But sweet fuck, he does feel good. He knows exactly how to make you dance under his touch, and you relish in the feeling. You almost feel guilty, denying your body this pleasure for so long. “Please, Joel,” is all you can say. And you don’t even know what you’re asking for, you just need Joel and Joel alone. 

“I like you like this, beggin’ for me. So much nicer when I fuck you,” 

The wet squelching sounds of your pussy fill the room, along with both yours and Joel’s heaving breaths. You feel his balls slapping up against your clit with each and every thrust he delivers onto you. 

“Joel, need you,” 

“I’ve got you, baby. What do you need?”

You can barely form words, so you let your body do the talking instead. You pull off of his cock and lay down beneath him, your eyes wide and your legs spread. You pull him down to you, kissing and nipping at his hot skin. Your moans are breathy and you buck your hips up to his, telling him what you need. 

Joel picks up what you’re putting down. He pulls away from you, lining himself up and pushing into you, as if just picking back up where he started. His arms are bracketed on either side of you as he fucks you, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside. It’s too much, you turn your head to the side and bite into his wrist to keep yourself from screaming his name. 

Your pussy squeezes him, walls fluttering and pulsing with every thrust of his cock. His once precise movements are beginning to falter, and he reaches down between your bodies to find your clit. 

“Not gonna last if you keep doin’ that t’me,” he warns. “I want you to come with me, okay baby?”

You nod, spreading your legs wider and wrapping them around his torso, the heels of your feet digging into his asscheeks. Your hands are holding onto his thick forearms for dear life, you watch the way his veins twitch and flex under your fingers. 

Just like each time he’s fucked you before, it’s almost pathetic the way you come undone for him with such ease. He’s rubbing your clit in steady circles for merely a moment before you come for him, sobbing in pleasure into his skin. When you come, it’s a mixture between explosive and slow. It’s simultaneously fireworks and a pot bubbling over, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. It’s nearly too intense, your eyes screwed shut as you cry his name like a prayer.

It’s all Joel needed to come. His name on your lips, your cunt gushing and squeezing him. He can’t help but spill inside you, shooting hot ropes of his seed inside you as he helps you ride out your orgasm. He collapses on top of you for a moment, pressing sloppy wet kisses into your skin. You hold him close, savoring the way his body feels so comforting on yours. He’s such a fucking dick, but he’s your person. Your home. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispers. 

You smile mischievously. You know Joel cares deeply for you, maybe even loves you, but it’s amusing to hear him vocalize that. “You missed me?” 

“Ugh, no,” he lies. 

“Good,” you say. “I didn’t either.”

Joel leaves then to clean you up, then he gets back into bed pulls you into his side, your head resting on his chest. You fall asleep like that, holding each other sweetly in the early hours of the morning. 

Neither you nor Joel never did get much sleep, but at least you were kinder to one another in the morning. No doors or cabinets were slammed in anger, and innocent toasters were free of your verbal abuse.

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers@angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl @speckledemerald

[number1mingyustan]

can you write a virgin fem reader x mingyu, established rs au like that wonwoo’s one 🥺🙏🏻🤲🏻

bf!mingyu x fem!reader

warnings: explicit smut, kissing, cursing, fingering (f)., grinding, cumming untouched, multiple orgasms, mentions of oral (m.)

_____________________________________________

"How long do I have to keep this on?" Mingyu asks with a pout.

You're seated on his lap, straddling him as you press the sheet mask down on his face. He's sitting on the toilet seat with his eyes closed.

"15 minutes," You tell him, smoothing the mask over his face. You pop up off his lap. "All done!"

He stands up and looks at himself in the bathroom. You stand there next to him, looking just like his twin. Both of you have your hair up in a messy bun, wearing matching pajamas and sheet masks.

Even with the mask, he can see you smiling.

Cute, He thinks to himself.

Looking at you warms his heart. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this, the domesticity. It's your first actual sleepover as a couple and he's already looking forward to making this a regular thing in his life.

He won't admit it out loud though, can't give you the satisfaction of knowing he he enjoys the cheesy slumber party activities you have planned.

You then insist on taking mirror pictures with him, to which he pretends he doesn't enjoy. Once you're finally satisfied, you're running off to the kitchen, yelling about how the cookies should be ready to bake.

He follows behind you and you're already raking through his cabinets for a baking sheet. You pull the pan out and place it on the counter.

"Be a dear and grab the cookie dough out the fridge?" You ask as you line the sheet with parchment paper.

He agrees silently, smiling to himself as you take control of his living space. It brings him joy to see you so comfortable here.

He grabs the wrapped-up cookie dough you two made (you made it and he washed the dishes and stayed out of your way) and hands it to you. You form the dough into balls while he preheats the oven and washes up the last of the dishes.

You pop the pan into the oven and allow the cookies to bake before dashing into the living room and scrolling through to find something to watch to end your night.

...

A few hours later, you're cuddled up in bed, bellies full from the cookies and comfortable. His arms are wrapped around your frame as you've designated yourself little spoon.

You've already fallen into a state of slumber, chest rising and falling as small snores evade your lips. He holds you in his arms, front side pressed against your back and he tries to will himself to sleep.

This night has been nothing short of perfect and wholesome and he fears he's about to ruin that.

Mingyu has found himself in a bit of a... hard place.

Since it if your first night together, Mingyu is still learning a lot about you. And tonight he's learned that you move around in your sleep, a lot.

The material of your matching pajama pants is thin and with you practically grinding against him for the past 10 minutes, Mingyu finds himself struggling.

He can't help it, it's completely normal. But he feels like such a pervert. He tries to think about something else, anything else. But then you start moving and he's screwed.

He feels so bad. He knows you're a virgin, and it's still early in your relationship. This was supposed to be a wholesome night, but now he's got a raging hard-on and it's aching uncomfortably in his pants for relief.

You shift in your sleep again, pressing your ass up against him more and he fucking moans.

His heart drops, he hopes you didn't hear that.

"Gyu?"

Fuck, you totally heard that.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks.

"You okay? Sounds like you're in pain." He shifts again.

You reach over, turning on the lamp.

"-And something poking–oh."

His heart drops and silence fills the atmosphere.

Okay so he's in a little bit of a pickle. A dilemma if you will. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, but he's also really fucking uncomfortable right now.

If it wasn't dark in here and you were to turn around you would see how red his face flushes in embarrassment.

"Sorry," He apologizes sincerely. "You were moving a lot and it just kind of... happened."

You shift again, turning to face him. "It's okay." You say in just above a whisper.

"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable. I'll just sleep it off, ignore it honestly."

"Was already getting uncomfortable Gyu," You whisper.

Before he can question you, you're guiding his hand between your thighs, slipping below the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear.

"Oh shit-" He whispers.

"What do you want baby? I'll take it slow." He breathes out.

"Your fingers–" You moan out. "Wanna cum on your fingers–fuck–please."

"Are you sure?"

You nod. "Please."

He's quick to oblige, applying more pressure to your clit as he draws circles around your sensitive bud. You let out a sob, pushing your hips against his fingers.

He knows you need more than this.

Who knew you could be so needy?

He stops his movements to strip you of the layers covering your lower half. He lays you on your back, hovering his body over yours as he slips a finger into you.

He starts slow, pumping at a steady pace before slipping in a second finger.

"Ngh–" You moan.

He curls his fingers, pressing his digits against your inner walls to satisfaction. His hard cock is straining against the fabric of his pajama paints.

His length throbs, aching as he leaks precum, wetting the front of his pants. As distracting as it may be, he keeps his focus on you. His own pleasure is far out of his mind as his pace increases.

He pumps his fingers into you, harder and faster. You writhe beneath him, bucking your hips up to meet the rhythm of his fingers.

Oh fuck– this is so good. You've never experienced this kind of pleasure before. His fingers are much better than your own. Longer, thicker, and much more skilled. You can't help but be curious about how it would feel to have more.

The image flashes across your brain. Having all of him inside of you, filling you up inch by inch as his body weight crushes you. The rhythm of his hips, the sounds he would make, the feeling of his cock...

But you shake the thought and decide not to be greedy. Mingyu is doing a great job right now, drawing you toward the brink of an orgasm much faster than your own fingers ever have.

You squeeze your eyes shut, small hand gripping his forearm as he works his fingers inside of you. You feel your lower tummy tighten, and you moan out.

"Close–hah fuck, 'M close," You warn him.

He draws circles around your clit with his thumb as his fingers work inside of you. The sudden shock of pleasure causes you to instinctively shut your legs closed.

He sucks his teeth in disapproval, prying your legs back open with his other hand and forcing them to stay that way. You let out a sob as he continues his ministrations and elicits a proper orgasm out of you.

Your hips grind against his fingers as the pleasure courses through your body. You cry out his name, tightening your grip on his arm as he draws out your pleasure.

He hums in approval, eyes glued on you as he watches you ride out your orgasm. He wants this image forever etched in his mind and he has every intention of making it happen again.

His hand slows as you come down before he pulls out of you completely. He licks his fingers with a grin and sits you up on the bed.

"How do you feel?" he asks, pushing your hair out of your face.

"Fuck Gyu.." You breathe out with a grin. "incredible."

He smiles. "Glad I could help."

He plants a kiss on your forehead and you feel his body weight leave the bed. "I'm gonna get you something to drink."

You groan, holding onto his arm and pulling his body back. "Don't go."

"I'll be right back," He chuckles. "I swear."

You pout, eyes shifting between his face and the obvious tent sprouting in his pants. "Don't go, wanna suck your dick."

You pull at him, again, but this time his body falls onto the bed. You completely caught him off guard with that. You climb on top of him, straddling him as you pull up his wifebeater and your palms rub against his chest. "Please?"

"Shit baby–I don’t know if you should–"

You frown. "But I wanna."

"I don't think you can handle it yet, baby," He breathes out.

Mindlessly, you begin grinding down on him. The feeling of his hard cock against your already sensitive clit is exhilarating. "I think I can."

He lets out a groan, tilting his head back and showing off his adam's apple. He rests his body weight on his elbows, licking his lips as his throat dries up. He's so sensitive right now and having you on top of him is not helping. He's afraid he'll cum as soon as you take him in your mouth.

"Fuck–uh..." He groans. "What are you doing?"

Now the wet spot on his pants has grown. You're leaking as you grind down on him and it's driving him crazy. Your clit throbs against him, aching for more and building up to another orgasm.

You're still sensitive and the craving you have only grows.

"I'm not–hah–doing anything–fuck!" You moan as you grind down on him.

Your hips pick up in pace and you've long forgotten about your original objective. It just feels so good, too good."

You grip the bed sheets as you continue to grind against him. Both of you let out a string of breathy moans and groans. It's pathetic almost, the way you're humping each other like horny teens, but fuck–it's getting the job done.

His hands grip your waist and he guides your body as you grind against him. His eyes fall shut and his hips begin to match the set rhythm.

"Shit..." He whispers.

It doesn't take long before you're cumming again, this time leaking against his clothed cock as you moan out with your plans pressed flat against his chest. Your head falls back and you ride out your orgasm, driving him into his.

He lets out a long groan as the stain on his pants grows again.

You both breathe heavily as you come down, staring at each other with half-lidded and hazy eyes. He sits up, pushing your hair out of your face once again, and kisses you softly. The kiss lasts longer than anticipated as you lose yourselves in one another. You don't let it escalate again however, pulling away, and pressing your foreheads together.

You poke out your bottom lip and pout. "Wanted to suck you off."

"Shit Y/n," he lifts you off his lap. "You're crazy."

You giggle. "Sorry, you bring out a different side of me."

He sucks in his breath. "Here I was trying to be all respectful and you're acting all freaky."

You grin, planting another kiss on his lips as you lay side by side. He changes into a fresh pair of sweats and hands you one of his t-shirts before venturing into the kitchen to get the drink he promised.

He grins when he sees you wearing his shirt and hands you a glass of water. He kisses your forehead again nd climbs into bed with you for the night.

This time, you both fall asleep peacefully through the night undisturbed.

_____________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[mysteria157]

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Profanity, Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Doggystyle, Fingering, Oral (m! receiving)…

WC: ~10k (grab your snacks)

Summary: 

Nanami runs into a problem that every man dreads.

Now, you find yourself navigating the treacherous waters of his bruised ego and growing hysteria, armed with nothing but your unwavering love and a seemingly endless supply of patience, as you try to help him overcome this unexpected hurdle.

Notes: Hello! Trying to get back into the swing of writing again after so many weeks on a break and naturally Nanami is who I gravitate towards. I thought this one shot would be a funny idea, and as someone once told me, I wrote this with “my c*it on the keyboard.”

Please do not ask me for more related to this story. This is just a one-shot of a random idea, please enjoy it for what it is lol. Thank you all for understanding!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune | Header: made by myself

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter |

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

“Fuck, Kento,” you breathe, fingers digging into the satin of the pillow case beneath your head.

The soft, warm glow of the bedside lamp bathes your intertwined bodies in a honeyed light, casting shadows that dance across your rich brown skin. Nanami’s lips, hot and insistent, trail a path of fire down your neck, pausing to lavish attention on the sensitive hollow of your throat. He drags his teeth along your clavicle, brushes his lips between the skin of your breasts. A breathy moan escapes you as his tongue traces lazy, deliberate circles around an already-sensitive nipple, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

His hands, strong and sure, yet infinitely gentle, knead the soft flesh behind your knees, coaxing your legs to open wider, allowing him to sink deeper into the welcoming heat of your body. The blunt head of his cock grazes that sweet spot inside you with each measured thrust, and you can’t help but arch your back, silently begging for more.

Your hair, messy from his fingers, frames your face in a splatter of curls, some clinging to the sheen of sweat on your cheeks. The sight of you like this—open, wanting, completely his—nearly steals the breath from his lungs and makes him double down his efforts.

It’s been weeks since you’ve had this. Weeks of Kento stumbling home late from working overtime, collapsing into bed still fully clothed. Weeks of missed connections, family obligations, and movie nights cut short with you both passing out on the couch. But tonight, finally, you have each other, free from the demands of the world outside.

As Nanami moves within you, his honey-wheat hair, usually so perfectly styled, falls in soft, tousled waves across his forehead, clinging to the perspiration that glistens on his brow. The strong line of his jaw is taut with concentration, a muscle jumping beneath the skin in a way that makes your fingers itch to trace its contours. His eyes, normally a cool, observant umber, now burn with a fierce intensity, a volatile mix of desire and something else, something harder to define.

But even as you lose yourself in the rhythm of your lovemaking, in the exquisite slide of skin against skin, you can’t help but notice the weariness etched into the lines of Nanami’s face, the slight tremor in his hands as they map the contours of your body. He’s been working himself to the bone, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion, and it shows in the tension of his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. You had tried to get him to sleep when he sagged through the front door, but he was insistent, clawing at your too-big t-shirt, silent and too stubborn to listen to his body as he licked into your hot mouth.

He’s so tired. Mind still running through quarterly reports and half-completed project plans. But he won’t let that deter him. He’s determined to focus—to savor this moment, to lose himself in the intoxicating scent of your skin, to surrender to the tremors that course through him as your fingers ghost up his back. You marvel at the play of muscles beneath his skin, at the flex and release of his broad shoulders with each movement—a reminder of the strength he usually keeps so carefully controlled.

But as he leans in to capture your lips, that traitorous whisper of doubt in his mind grows in volume. That exhaustion that melted away from your touch has retreated to within him, to course through the blood in his veins and manifest again in its own, evil way at the apex of his thighs. Nanami’s movements falter, his rhythm turning erratic, unsure. You feel a change in him, a hesitation that wasn’t there before, and your heart clenches with concern. His brow furrows, his lips pressing into a thin line as he tries to hold onto the moment, to keep the passion burning between you. The confidence that usually radiates from him when you are both between the sheets seems to waver, leaving in its wake a man grappling with an unfamiliar sense of inadequacy.

He doesn’t want to believe it. He refuses to acknowledge the treacherous thought creeping into his mind. His cock, moments ago hard as a rock and pulsing within you, is betraying him. He digs one hand into the pillow beneath your head, fingers tangling in your curls, savoring the sharp gasp you shake out, desperately willing himself to focus on your heat, on your breath ghosting across his face—anything but the waning firmness of his erection.

With a low grunt, he thrusts deeper so there’s no room for his cock to leave you. The movement is sharper than usual, a force that has no trace of his care behind it and it immediately makes you blink through the fog of pleasure in your mind. You notice the change, concern filling you as you take in the tumultuous emotions on his face. His blonde hair falls in thick tufts over his forehead, brushing against the deepening crease between his eyebrows.

“Ken?” Your voice is soft, a gentle caress. You bring a hand to his cheek, and he leans into your touch as if your soft skin might anchor and keep him focused. “Is everything alright?”

Everything is far from alright.

It’s a nightmare scenario that Nanami can’t bring himself to voice. But he knows you feel it. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants against your vanilla skin, his fingers digging almost painfully into the flesh of your hips. He drives his hips deeper, angling upwards, trying desperately to lose himself in your pliant body.

But with his next thrust, the cruel truth becomes undeniable. What was once hard steel is now unbearably soft, slipping out of you as his hips collide with yours. Your gasp mirrors his shock as he jerks his head up to meet your gaze. The mortification in his eyes is palpable, a stark contrast to the passion that burned there mere moments ago.

“Ken, it’s okay—” you begin, but he’s already retreating, both physically and emotionally, his walls slamming back into place, shutting you out. You can practically see him retreating into himself, his shoulders hunching, his jaw clenching with a stubbornness of wounded pride.

“Hey, no, we aren’t doing this,” you insist, voice firm and laced with quiet determination.

You reach for him, your fingers wrapping around a thick wrist, anchoring him to you. You’ve spent years chipping away at his defenses, learning every facet of his being, and you refuse to let him shut you out now over something like this. This isn’t just embarrassment—it’s a fundamental shaking of his self-image, a crack in the foundation of who Nanami believes himself to be. An affliction that every man prays to the gods never finds them.

Limp dick.

You gently pull Nanami back to rest between your thighs, his weight a comforting shield against the cool air of your shared bedroom. Your fingers weave through his hair, feeling the tension thrumming through his body as he settles against you.

“Kento,” you murmur, your voice a low, soothing melody in the quiet room. “Look at me.”

He stills for a heartbeat, two, before raising his head, his eyes meeting yours. In their depths, you see a swirling maelstrom of emotions—frustration, embarrassment, shame. He’s tousled hair and flushed cheeks, an overwhelming exhaustion and stress etched beneath his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, cradling his face in your hands. Your thumbs trace the high arch of his cheekbones, feeling the heat of his skin. “This happens. It doesn’t change a thing—not how I feel, not how much I love you, none of it.”

Nanami’s jaw clenches under your palms, the muscle pulsing, a physical manifestation of the turmoil brewing within him. His gaze falls, unable to hold yours, as if the weight of his perceived failure is too much to bear. “I should be able to—”

“To what?” you interject, your voice gentle but firm. “To be some infallible sex god?” A soft laugh escapes you, your lips curving into a tender smile. “To never have limp dick?”

Those warm eyes glare at you, not at all amused by your light-hearted but poignantly accurate joke. “Now is not the time for a joke,” he grits out, his voice tight, strained.

“Now is exactly the time for a joke,” you counter, your thumb tracing the slight cracks of his bottom lip. You can sense his next moves, your body attuned to his very soul, feeling his inclination to withdraw, to roll over and brood, to let this momentary setback fester into something more. You tighten your thighs around his waist, refusing to let him drift away. “How long have we been together, Kento?”

“Three years.” His answer is immediate, automatic, a testament to the depth of your bond.

“And in that time, has this ever happened before?”

Your eyes lock—a silent battle of wills, logic against stubborn pride. He understands your point, recognizes the truth in your words, but his stubbornness matches your own. “No,” he admits, the word a reluctant concession.

“You’re human, Kento. Wonderfully, beautifully human, and the sexiest man I’ve ever known. Performance issues or not.”

He scoffs, but you feel his shoulders slacken, his body melting into yours as he exhales, the tension slowly bleeding from his muscles. His arms tighten around you, calloused hands splaying across the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, as if your touch alone could chase away the demons of self-doubt. Those beautiful golden strands tickle your cheeks as he nuzzles closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“Is that so?” he finally murmurs, and you can hear the small smile in his voice, a welcome change from the earlier tension. For as reserved as he is, Nanami preens under any sort of compliments you give him, a chink in his armor of cool composure.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, your hands sliding down to appreciate the firm planes of his back. “It’s a shame, really. You attract too much attention. I’ve been too generous with how long I let you out of the house.”

You feel more than hear his soft chuckle, the vibration rumbling through his chest and into yours. Nanami pulls back slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. The vulnerability from before hasn’t completely faded, but it’s tempered by a familiar spark of determination kindling in their depths. You don’t know if the subject has completely dropped. But for now, he doesn’t seem to dwell on it, content to focus on you instead.

“Well,” he begins, his voice dropping to that deep, velvety tone that never fails to send shivers cascading down your spine, “I should ensure your satisfaction. Maybe then you’ll extend my hours outside.”

Before you can respond, he’s moving. He sits up on his knees, hot hands wrapping around your waist before yanking your hips closer to him, a delicious show of strength that has your breath catching in your throat. Your giggle of surprise quickly morphs into a gasp as his lips find that sensitive spot just below your ear, tongue sliding against the skin before it trails down the rest of your body, leaving a path of desire that makes you shudder against him.

You expected a period of adjustment, a gradual return to the easy intimacy you and Nanami had always shared. But as time passed, you began to notice a shift, subtle at first, but growing more pronounced with each passing day.

That first sign of something odd presents itself on day three since that night, a quiet Saturday morning that dawns with a gentle golden light filtering through your bedroom curtains. You wake up to find Nanami’s side of the bed empty, the sheets cool to the touch. Puzzled, you pad into the living room, your bare feet silent on the cool hardwood floor, your eyes roaming the space for any sign of him.

Nanami sits at the dining table, surrounded by a veritable fortress of books, their spines forming a colorful barricade around his hunched form. His laptop glows in the morning light, casting his features in a pale blue hue, multiple tabs visible on the screen. He’s hunched over and shirtless, his bare back a canvas of dark moles, constellations you’ve traced countless times with reverent fingers, your lips mapping a path between each celestial point.

As you circle the table, drawing closer to his absorbed form, you’re struck by the intensity of his concentration, the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. His fingers fly over the keyboard with a single-minded purpose, a man on a mission, lost in a world of his own making.

“What are you doing up so early?” you ask, running a hand through the short, silky hair at his nape.

He glances up, and the determined glint in his eye catches you off guard. “Research,” he replies simply, as if that single word explains everything.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you lean in to examine the book titles scattered across the table, your brow rising with each passing second:

Male Sexual Health

Nutrition and Libido

Stress Management for Peak Performance

What the—?

A mix of emotions bubbles up inside you—amusement at his determination, concern for his state of mind, a touch of exasperation at his stubbornness. Part of you wants to tease him mercilessly, to watch that adorable flush creep up his neck, to see him squirm under your playful attention. But you bite your tongue, sensing the fragility of the moment, the rawness of his exposed insecurities.

“Ken,” you begin, your voice a delicate balance of understanding and concern, “is this about what happened the other night? I thought we talked about this, baby.”

“We did,” he nods, not looking up from his screen. “And I appreciate your understanding. But I can’t let it happen again. I’m going to fix this.”

There’s so much you want to say, so many reassurances you want to offer. You want to tell him how normal this is, how surprised you are that it hasn’t happened more often given his grueling work schedule. But you bite your tongue, sensing that this is something Nanami needs to process on his own.

“Don’t you think this might be…a bit much?” you try one last time, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his bare shoulder, careful not to make him feel defensive and push him further into his own head.

“Nothing is too much when it comes to satisfying you.”

And with those words, spoken with such conviction, such raw honesty, your heart swells, a tidal wave of love and affection crashing over you. He won’t be swayed, and there’s no point in trying to argue with him when he’s set on something. You can’t help but sigh fondly, running your fingers through his hair again, your nails gently scratching his scalp in the way you know he loves. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment, a low groan of appreciation rumbling from his chest as he guides your fingers to just the right spot.

As Nanami launches into an explanation of the benefits of Ashwagandha root, his fingers running along a line of text in one of the magazines, you can’t help but shake your head affectionately. You love this man, even (or perhaps especially) when he’s being ridiculously over-the-top, his determination to be the best partner he can be, even if it means diving headfirst into a world of herbal remedies and performance-enhancing techniques.

The days slip by, each one blurring into the next, a haze of normalcy tinged with an undercurrent of unease. It’s not until the morning of day ten that the true extent of Nanami’s newfound obsession becomes impossible to ignore.

The soft schick of his razor fills the bathroom, a rhythmic counterpoint to the rush of running water. He stands before the mirror, shirtless, a towel draped over his broad shoulders to catch stray flecks of shaving cream. You watch, transfixed, as he meticulously glides the razor along the sharp line of his jaw, each stroke precise, measured.

You stand beside him, your own morning ritual underway, massaging a rich, creamy lotion into your melanin-kissed skin. Your favorite scent of vanilla fills the air, mingling with the crisp, clean aroma of Nanami’s shaving cream. It’s a familiar dance, this shared moment of grooming, of preparation for the day ahead.

But as you reach for your leave-in, your eyes catch on something new, something that sends a jolt of surprise through your system. There, amidst the clutter of skincare products and toiletries, sits a new addition to the growing collection of bottles on the counter. The mustard-yellow label boldly proclaims: “Maca Root: For Vitality and Stamina”.

“Ken?” you murmur, plucking the bottle from the counter, your eyebrows dipping in confusion. “What’s this?”

Nanami’s eyes flick to yours in the mirror, his hand pausing mid-stroke, the razor hovering just above his skin. “Just a supplement,” he evades, his voice carefully neutral, a forced casualness he uses to avoid arguments he won’t win that always sets your teeth on edge. “For…overall health.”

You turn the bottle in your hands, eyebrow arching higher in disbelief with each word you read as you take in the bold, almost aggressive labeling. Your gaze darts to the other bottles littering the counter, a growing sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you take them in for the first time.

“Uh-huh. And the Zinc? The Ginseng? The…” you squint at another label, your voice dripping with skepticism, “L-arginine? All for ‘overall health’ too?”

He clears his throat, his gaze darting away from yours, focusing intently on his reflection as he studiously avoids your probing stare. “That’s right.”

“Baby—” you begin, but he cuts you off, setting down his razor with a definitive clink and shutting the water off, turning to face you fully.

The sight of him, bare-chested and gleaming under the harsh fluorescent light, sends a bolt of desire through you, a hunger that’s been left unsatiated for far too long. The thick cords of muscle that stretch across his chest and arms, the taut planes of his abdomen, the trail of dark blonde hair that disappears beneath the low-slung waistband of his sweatpants—it’s exquisite torture, a feast for your senses after days of famine.

But there’s a tension in the set of his shoulders, a skittishness in his gaze that sets off warning bells in your head.

“It’s the research I’ve been doing,” he admits, almost apologetic as he pulls the towel from his shoulders, wiping away the last traces of shaving cream from his jaw. “From what I’ve read, these have proven benefits for…various aspects of wellbeing.”

He seems almost afraid, as if he’s bracing himself for your reaction, steeling himself against the inevitability of your displeasure. Fortunately for him, the words are like a match to kindling, a spark that ignites a flame of mischief in your belly. You step closer, your hands coming up to rest on his chest, the supplement bottle forgotten on the counter behind you.

“Various aspects, huh?” you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. This moment—when he smells of fresh soap, shaving cream, and mint toothpaste before cologne masks his natural scent—is one of many favorites. It’s one of the most arousing forms of Nanami Kento before he slides on his work clothes and gives the world a straight face and measured words. “Care to demonstrate some of these benefits?”

Your fingertips trace the muscles of his chest, slide along his skin with more purpose, your nails dragging lightly over his nipples, a teasing hint of pain that you know drives him wild. He inhales sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your hands, his jaw clenched tight, a reaction that’s as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

For a moment, you think you have him, that he’ll give in to the desire that darkens his eyes, that he’ll roughly bunch your skirt up around your waist, hike your legs up and around him and make the bathroom mirror knock against your back until you’re gasping out his name as you tighten around his cock.

But then he’s stepping back, his hands coming up to gently catch your wrists, pulling your hands away from his skin.

“We’ll be late for work,” voice strained, conveying his own battling desire. He brings your hands to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the delicate skin of your wrists, your forehead, your mouth.“Let me make you breakfast instead.”

And then he’s gone, slipping past you and out of the bathroom, leaving you standing alone, frustration and disappointment warring in your chest. Your gaze falls on the supplement bottles, a physical manifestation of his growing hysteria, and for a moment, you’re seized by the urge to sweep them all into the trash, to rid your home of these unwelcome interlopers.

But you resist, drawing in a deep, steadying breath, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you silently repeat the mantra that’s become your lifeline in recent days: I love him. I love him. I love him.

But as you square your shoulders and stalk out of the bathroom to start your day, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s got to give, that this tenuous balance can’t hold forever.

Day seventeen. It feels like an eternity, a cruel and unusual punishment for a crime you didn’t commit. You’re a prisoner in your own home, trapped in a world where the man you love is just out of reach, tantalizingly close but impossibly distant.

Seventeen days too long when you live with a man as loving, kind, and attentive as Nanami Kento. Seventeen excruciating days since the concept of getting dicked down was a given, a pleasure you could indulge in whenever the mood struck. Now, you’re reduced to grasping at sloppy seconds, thirds, fourths—anything for a crumb of cock, a fleeting taste of the intimacy you crave.

You’ve become a connoisseur of stolen moments, of fleeting glances and brushing touches that once held the promise of so much more. A shared look in the bathroom mirror that used to lead to soapy sex in the shower. The brush of his hand against the small of your back as you pass in the hallway, a touch that used to lead to him pulling you flush against his body, his lips claiming yours in a searing kiss. Now, you’re like an addict, desperately chasing the ghost of a high, sucking at nicotine-stained fingers for the essence of a hit.

In a last-ditch effort to reignite the spark to show him just how much he’s overreacting, you’ve taken to wearing his shirts around the house. You leave the top buttons undone, a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage on display, the hem riding high on your thighs to reveal the faint marks that he likes to lick against. But each night when you reach for him, Nanami simply presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips trailing a path down your body in a reverent exploration, worshiping you with his mouth and fingers until you’re trembling and spent.

But never with his cock. Never with the part of him you crave most, the part that once made you feel so deliciously full, so utterly claimed.

You feel dramatic when you think about it because it always brings tears to your eyes, hot and stinging with frustration and despair. Like you’re a petulant toddler wanting a cookie that’s been sitting on the counter all morning.

You’ve never been one to let a man dictate your life, to let his whims and insecurities hold sway over your own desires. But Nanami has always been a man to put you above and beyond anything before himself. If the women of the world knew what they were missing, if they could experience even a fraction of the pleasure Nanami Kento can provide, they’d be falling to their knees in supplication, just like you.

How far you’ve fallen.

And how little you care.

Tonight, you vow, will be different. You slip into the silk nightgown he loves, the one that clings to your every curve like a second skin, the baby blue fabric whispering against your heated flesh as you step out of the bathroom. Your heart races with anticipation, your body thrumming with need as you picture his reaction, the way his eyes will darken with desire, the way he’ll pull you into his arms and finally, finally give you what you both so desperately need.

But the bedroom is empty, the sheets still neatly made, mocking you with their pristine perfection. You frown, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you pad down the hallway, your bare feet whispering against the cool hardwood. As you approach the kitchen, a pungent, almost medicinal smell hits your senses, growing stronger with each step, mingling with the whir of a blender.

You round the corner and freeze, taking in the scene before you. Nanami stands at the kitchen counter, surrounded by an alchemist’s array of strange-looking roots and powders. The blender in front of him churns away, filled with a murky-greenish-brown liquid that looks more like something out of a horror movie than anything fit for human consumption.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice thin and strained, confusion and exasperation warring for dominance in your tone.

He looks up, startled, nearly knocking over a jar of what looks like dried herbs. “It’s…a health shake.”

You want to argue, to shake his shoulders and scream that this has gone too far, that he’s lost sight of what really matters in his quest for some unattainable ideal. But the determination in his eyes, the set of his jaw, the way he grimaces as he chokes down a sip of the vile concoction—it all speaks to a desperation that breaks your heart even as it fuels your frustration.

As he takes another sip, nose twisted to the side to avoid the foul smell, his eyes catch your frame. They roam over you, taking in the nightgown, giving you the exact reaction you pictured before coming out here.

For a moment, you see that flicker of desire in his eyes that you’ve been craving.

But then it’s gone, replaced by something that looks suspiciously like guilt.

“I’ll come to bed soon,” he promises, grimacing through another sip of his vile brew. “Get some rest. I know today was rough at work.”

His words are like a knife to your gut, a reminder of the distance that’s grown between you, the way his obsession has consumed him so completely that he can’t even see the pain it’s causing you both.

All of this, because of one night.

You press your toes into the hardwood, your fingers twisting in the hem of your nightgown as you fight back the tears that burn the corners of your eyes.

“You…you don’t want to come to bed with me?” you whisper, hating the way your voice breaks, the way the hope that once buoyed your words has been replaced by a hollow, aching despair and annoyance.

“I want to finish this and catch up on a few things for work before I come to bed.” His gaze slides away from yours, unable to meet the hurt and frustration in your eyes. Unable to see just how in his head he has become with all of this. “It’ll be a little while. Sleep for me? Please?”

The rejection, however gentle, leaves you feeling exposed and bereft, a physical blow to your gut. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak anymore, and turn to head back to the bedroom, your vision blurring.

There’s so much more to this than just you wanting to have sex. You want to be supportive, to give him time and space to work through whatever this is. But you hate just how disillusioned he has become. His gaze and his touch are tainted now—held back by shame and fear of disappointing you. And you can’t help but feel like this is getting more out of control instead of getting better.

You love him, more than anything. But right now, listening to the distant sounds of him choking down that awful-smelling shake, you’ve never felt further apart.

It all comes to a head on day twenty-five. The day dawns like any other, the sun’s warm rays filtering through the windows of your shared apartment, casting a soft glow on the well-worn furniture and the mementos of your life together. It’s your day off, a rare respite from the chaos of the work week, and you find yourself moving through the space with a sense of purpose, straightening and cleaning, trying to bring order to the disarray that seems to mirror the state of certain parts of your relationship.

As you work, your mind wanders, replaying the events of the past month like a melancholy film reel. The distance, the tension, the way Nanami has been pulling away from you, retreating into himself in a desperate attempt to fix what he perceives as a fundamental flaw in his being. Insisting that he won’t let this happen again even though he won’t actually fuck you.

It’s a weight that’s been bearing down on you both, a shadow that’s slowly suffocating the light and love that once filled every corner of your lives.

Your feet carry you to the bedroom, to the closet you share. As you reach for Nanami’s side, intent on straightening his crisp dress shirts, your hand brushes against something unfamiliar, tucked away in the shadows. Curiosity piqued, you pull it out, revealing a plain, unmarked brown box.

For a moment, your heart stutters in your chest, a cold fear gripping your insides as you lift the lid, praying that it’s nothing that would point your partner in the direction of infidelity. But no, you shake your head, banishing the thought before it can fully form. Nanami would never betray you, never seek solace in the arms of another because there’s only has and ever been you.

It makes complete sense in your head, but lately—

You yank open the lid and gape.

Inside, nestled among crumpled tissue paper, are items you never expected to find in Nanami’s possession. Your fingers tremble slightly as you examine them—a cylindrical pump, clear save for the rubber base, and an orange prescription bottle, its label stark against the translucent plastic.

You stare at the objects, your mind whirling with a chaotic storm of emotions. Shock, disbelief, a rising tide of frustration and despair. This isn’t just Nanami being health-conscious anymore, not just a passing phase or a well-intentioned attempt at self-improvement. This is something deeper, something more desperate, a manifestation of the fear and inadequacy that’s been eating away at him since that fateful night.

Carefully, you replace the items, your movements mechanical, your thoughts a jumbled mess. A part of you wants to laugh, to find the absurdity in the situation, to release the tension that’s been building in your chest like a pressure cooker. But you can’t bring yourself to even stifle a giggle, the weight of your worry too heavy.

You sink down onto the bed, the cool sheets soothing the heat of your legs, and draw in a deep, shuddering breath. The weeks of distance, avoidance, the way Nanami has been retreating further and further into himself, straying more and more from reason. There’s so much more to your relationship than just sex, but it’s a big part, a well-practiced part that you both can be your rawest selves during.

But all of this is a spiral that’s slowly dragging you both down, a vortex of unspoken fears and mounting frustrations on both ends.

And in that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your shared life in your apartment, the photos and trinkets that chronicle your love story, you know that something has to give. And it looks like you’ll have to take matters into your own hands. This ends today.

Tonight, when Nanami gets home, you’ll address this head-on. No more dancing around the issue, no more swallowing your grievances in the name of patience and nonexistent understanding. It’s time to remind him of who he is, of the man you fell in love with, the man who’s always been more than enough for you.

The sound of the front door opening pulls you from your thoughts, the soft shuffle of Nanami’s footsteps echoing down the hallway. “Love, I’m home,” he calls out, his voice weary but warm, a balm to your frayed nerves.

He appears in the doorway, his tie loosened, speckled black on yellow draped over his shoulders, the top buttons of his blue shirt undone. His glasses are gone, discarded in his haste to shed the trappings of the office, to leave the stresses of the day behind. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes softening as they land on you, a reverent smile playing at the corners of his lips. “So beautiful.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words, at the love and adoration that shines in his gaze, even though you’re in a ratty t-shirt and shorts, your curls thrown into a careless and messy bun.

“You always speak as if it’s the first time you’ve ever seen me,” you tease, tilting your head back to accept his kiss, a chaste press of his lips that nonetheless ignites a spark of longing in your core.

“Because it’s true,” he replies simply, his fingers brushing a stray curl behind your ear. “I’m going to shower.” He sounds despondent, unbelievably ragged with the weight of the day clinging to him like a second skin.

“Rough day?”

“A very rough day, my love,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, disrupting the sharp part that he makes every morning. He reaches a hand out to you, an invitation, a plea for your company. “Join me?”

The bathroom is a sanctuary of steam and heat, the air thick with the mingled scents of your body washes—cucumber melon and sandalwood. You perch on the counter, a fluffy towel wrapped around your body, watching as Nanami goes through his post-shower routine, his movements methodical, almost meditative.

Water droplets cling to his skin, tracing tantalizing paths down the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, your fingers itching to follow those rivulets, to map the contours of his body with your lips and tongue.

“Let me,” you murmur, your voice husky with repressed longing. Your legs spread, the open lapels of your towel exposing a creamy brown thigh that Nanami’s eyes flicker to before he meets your gaze. You reach for him, pulling closer until he’s standing between your parted thighs, the heat of his waist seeping through the thin barrier of your towel.

With gentle fingers, you work through the rest of his skincare routine—toner, serum, smoothing eye cream over the delicate skin beneath his lashes. The domesticity of the moment, the intimacy of caring for him like this in whatever way you can, it’s a way to show him that you’re here—that you’re not going anywhere, no matter how lost he may feel.

Your fingertips glide over his skin, applying the last of the face cream with gentle circular motions. As you finish, your hands move to his damp hair, brushing the strands away from his forehead. The strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes that crease faintly when he smiles.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, a soft smile playing on your lips. Nanami’s hands come to rest on your waist, his thumbs tracing small circles on your towel-covered skin.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, thickly. His eyes, those warm pools of mahogany, are soft with gratitude and affection.

“Always,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with love for this man.

Nanami leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. It’s meant to be a simple gesture of gratitude, but something shifts in the air around you. Whether it’s the intimacy of you both so close or the heat on your skin—the kiss deepens, slow and exploratory, as if you’re rediscovering each other after a long absence.

Your fingers thread through his damp hair, tangling in the strands as his hands tighten on your waist. Your tongue slides along his bottom lip, tasting the coffee he must have had on the way home, the hint of want that he wants to crumble into. He returns with equal fervor, pressing closer to you, sliding his tongue against yours, shivering from the soft moan that shakes from your wet lips when you both finally break apart. A gossamer thread of saliva connects you before he pecks your lips one last time. Nanami’s chest rises and falls deeply, coiled masculinity oozing from his pores, tangling with the downy hairs on his chest.

“Kento,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper, “we…we need to talk about what’s been going on.”

Your hands train down his chest as you speak, mapping the familiar terrain of his body. Beneath your fingertips, his heart thunders like a trapped bird, betraying the melting calm facade he’s trying to maintain. The defined muscles of his abdomen twitch under your touch, a visceral reaction he can’t control.

“The magazines, the supplements, the smoothies,” you continue, gentle but firm. “This has gone too far. One off night, Kento. That’s all it was. Yet here you are, acting like you’re broken, like every moment we’ve shared before was somehow lacking.”

Nanami tenses, his body coiling like a spring beneath your hands. But you’re not letting him retreat—not like that night—and certainly not right now. Your legs wrap around his waist, the gap of your towel widening as you yank him closer, anchoring him to you, skin to skin.

“You think that I would look at you differently?” you murmur, catching his distressed eyes every time they try to evade your gaze, willing him to understand. “Think I would think of you as a failure? You like logic, Kento and I’m telling you the facts. You were tired, case closed.”

“But I—” he starts, his voice rough with emotion, eyes narrowing in frustration as he tries to defend himself. You silence him with a thumb to the plump skin of his bottom lip, tracing the divots of soft, pink flesh.

“You’re the healthiest man I know, Ken.” Your other hand drifts lower, brushing through the trail of dark golden hair that disappears beneath his towel. “You take such good care of us. And you never, ever fail to satisfy me.”

His breath catches as your fingers ghost over his hipbones, alternating between soft cotton and the sharp cut of his skin. “One night doesn’t change that,” you whisper, the hand on his face sliding to card through his hair, you lean in to press your lips to the strong line of his jaw. His fingers dig into your waist from your touch, Adams apple bobbing against your gliding lips as he swallows the burning desire that’s slowly searing him from the inside out. “It doesn’t make you any less amazing, any less desirable.”

You pull back, meeting his eyes. In their warm depths, you see a swirling mix of vulnerability that makes your heartache.

“I just…I don’t want to disappoint you again. While I know that you don’t care, being unable to provide for you fully is something that I never wanted to experience.” The confession is thick in the air, sloshing with what remains of the steam from the shower, coating your skin.

“Oh, Kento,” you sigh, pressing your forehead to his. The scent of his skin—clean soap and something uniquely him—envelops you, offers that blanket of protection that you couldn’t imagine going away. “The only thing disappointing me is how you’ve been pulling away. I’m tired of you feeling inadequate when you’re anything but.”

You pause, weighing the options in your head before you take a bounding leap, throwing care to the wind. Slowly, deliberately, you slide off the counter, your body brushing against his as you descend. The cool tile of the bathroom floor contrasts sharply with the heat radiating from your skin.

Kneeling before him, you look up, your gaze never leaving his. Hands slide up thick thighs, the hair on his legs brushing against your fingertips as you travel further toward the rigid heat of where you need him most. The hitch in his breath is faint, almost nonexistent when your fingers toy with the towel’s edge around his waist. You only wait a moment, three seconds too many as your hand undoes the tight knot and the towel pools at his feet and your knees on the floor.

He’s just as he always is—thick and heavy from your proximity alone, hard and filled with the blood that pumps wildly in his veins. When you wrap your hand around him, the heft of his cock makes your cunt squeeze. You know exactly what it feels like to have the most intimate part of him carving out your insides, and god do you need it right now.

You give only one stroke and the effect is instant; Nanami hisses, fingers flexing at his sides, extending and then curling in a fist as a means to keep his hands to himself, the head of his mushroom tip red and prickles with a thick gathering of precum. Just the sight makes your mouth water.

“I found those things in your closet, you know,” you purr softly, stroking him at an excruciating pace. “You actually think you need something like that, baby?”

A flush creeps up Nanami’s neck, blooming across his cheeks in rushing embarrassment even though his pupils are dilated from the sight of you on your knees. He opens his mouth to speak, fumbling for words that choke around another hitch with your next stroke.

“You don’t feel like you would need something like that.” And you don’t wait a second longer, opening your mouth, dragging the flat of your tongue up the backside of his cock. Each taste bud slides against rigid bumps of veins, gathering with more spit as he groans from your attention. You offer a gentle kiss to his tip, licking the salty taste of his precum from your lips. “You sure don’t taste like you would need something like that.”

The rise and fall of his chest is quickly leaving the pace of steady, his eyes locked on you and jaw flexing with growing desperation. You squeeze his cock on an upward stroke, your own body beginning to heat up just from watching him fall apart.

“Look at you now,” you tease, widening the gap between your knees, the heat between your legs radiating against your ankles. “You don’t look like you need help. Responding so beautifully to me. Not a hint of hesitation.”

The velvety hardness of him in your palm twitches from your words, hard steel that’s blazing hot, and just the sight of him above you is more than enough for a whine to build in your belly, an innate urge to have any part of him inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes flutter, long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones as you lean in. When you finally take him into your mouth, your name falls from his lips like a prayer, brown eyes rolling halfway to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowing in equal confusion and pleasure.

You’re too eager to give him time to adjust—tongue swirling around the crown of his head and softening underneath him before building a nice, slobbery rhythm. In and out, in and out. Every stroke of your mouth around his cock makes your mouth water even more and your body relax, the dig of the tile on your knees forgotten.

“Fuck,” he pants, the rare curse slipping from his lips as one hand comes to rest gently on the back of your head. You hum in appreciation—in encouragement—building his confidence to squeeze the curly strands. The vibration of your hum of attention causes Nanami’s hips to buck involuntarily and you let your throat relax without thinking, let him hit the back before you swallow around him. “I-” he bites his lip, groaning from deep in his chest.

The heat of the bathroom is suffocating, your neck covered in curls prickling with sweat, sliding down your clavicle and onto the towel around your breasts that’s quickly loosening. Or maybe it’s your own body burning from the inside out, your blood pounding and surging to your core, swelling with arousal that leaks from you without even touching yourself.

And you’re dripping. The hand not at the base of him—stroking what you can’t swallow—reaches between your thighs, rubbing a clit that’s sopping wet with slick that drips between your fingers and onto the tile floor.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar ache to build in your jaw, a growing reminder of the thick cock between your mouth. But his throaty moans keep you going, keep your cunt pulsing and squeezing around the two fingers that quickly slide inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes, dark with desire, take you in—your messy hand twisting at the base of his cock, the hint of saliva on your chin, the prickle of tears at the corners of your eyes from the way he keeps hitting the back of your throat. Only he gets to see you like this. Only he gets to be with someone who will stop at nothing to make him feel supported and loved over something as trivial as a night of bad luck.

“I…you’re…” he gasps, unable to complete his thoughts when you moan around him. “Please just—just keep…don’t stop…don’t—”

As the tension builds, Nanami’s control begins to slip. His thrusts lose their measured control, the hands in your hair tighten, the quick breath from his mouth becomes tight as he bares his teeth and fucks your mouth. His abs are glistening with sweat, tight and flexing as he fights to stay sane.

You’re ready to burst from the seams, pleasure coiling at the base of your spine with each curl of your fingers inside of you, moans tight and sporadic in a familiar sign of your impending orgasm.

It’s when his eyes catch you fingering yourself that his control snaps in half, setting him off. He’s grabbing at you, yanking you from your knees with a strength that shocks you, your towel finally falling off your body and exposing you to the heat of the bathroom. Before you can protest, Nanami moves in a flourish, the last threads of his control dissolving at the shocked but excited gasp that leaves your lips.

In one fluid motion, he spins you around to face the bathroom mirror. Your breath catches at the sight of you both—flushed, desire-drunk, tanned and freckled muscles pressed against your back. His eyes meet yours in the reflection, a primal hunger burning in their depths, black eating away the warm brown.

The press of his cock against your lower back makes you arch your back, leaning over the counter without a second thought, taking him in through the mirror. His hands roam over your body with renewed confidence, cupping the heaviness of your breasts, sliding down tiger-striped brown skin to grip your hips. His eyes trail over the mess of curls on your sweaty back, the curve of your ass, the glistening of your cunt as it catches in the bathroom light.

He looks focused, almost angry—determined to make sure he does exactly what he’s supposed to do. Your body shivers in anticipation. This is the Nanami you’ve been missing—strong, confident, and utterly, deliciously yours.

Without preamble, you part your legs more, opening yourself up to his leering gaze as he watches you slide two fingers through your sopping folds. “I need you,” you whisper, your other hand kneading the flesh of a breast, pinching the nipple to make you arch your back more into him.

He presses forward at the sound of your voice, a beacon for him to bring you whatever you desire. “You have me.”

You feel him, hot and hard against you, and you can’t stifle the moan that escapes you. “All of you Kento,” you whimper, pushing back against him and stroking your clit faster, your slick sliding down your fingers to the center of your palm. “No more holding back, no more doubts. Show me how much you want me.”

In the mirror, the trepidation in his eyes, the worry between his brows. The disappointment from that night is surely playing in his head, teasing him evilly that he will never be able to make love to you again. But you won’t let him feel that way again, you’ll never let him feel inadequate. So you turn slightly to reach behind you, smooth a hand up the side of his face, caressing his jaw, angling your head to the side to kiss him softly. “You’re perfect,” you breathe, the words barely a whisper between you both, the perfect combination to relax the subtle tension in his shoulders. “So perfect for me, Kento.”

He releases a shaky exhale against your lips from your words, the vibration traveling through your body where you’re pressed together. With one hand braced on your waist, the other guiding himself, his eyes not leaving yours, Nanami pushes into you slowly. Finally. Twenty-five days too late and the feeling of completeness, of absolute rightness, is overwhelming. It’s as if a missing piece of you has been slotted back into place.

You whimper, panting into his mouth, sliding your lips messily against his. Your body stretches to accommodate him, a delicious burn that makes your toes curl and your cunt pulse around him.

“Oh fuck, Kento,” you keen, “you’re so fucking big—fill me so well—” His hips snap forward, cutting you off, a sharp cry punching from your lungs.

“I-I shouldn’t have—” he pants against your lips, ready to apologize from the force but you don’t let him finish.

“Yes,” you encourage, your voice breathy from the delicious zing of pleasure that throbs between your legs. “You feel amazing, Ken. So perfect.”

He shivers from your words and starts a slow, almost tentative rhythm. But your continued praise spurs him on. His thrusts become more confident, more forceful, driving you both higher in the stifling heat of your bathroom.

The room fills with the sounds of sex—the slick smack of skin on skin, breathless moans from his full lips, whispered praises from your mouth.

“So good,” you moan softly. “You feel so good inside me.” The hand on your clit resumes its pace, wanting Nanami to be fully immersed in focusing so he can get past this terrible roadblock in his mind.

“More,” he demands, kissing you deeply, the side of your jaw, nibbling your ear, begging you silently for more love and praise. “I-I have to know I’m doing well. That I’m making you feel good—"

“You are,” you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips as he hits that spot deep inside you that makes white spots blot the edges of your vision. “You are—you are, Kento—shit fuck me harder. Give it to me.”

He bends to your will immediately, the pull of your voice—of your demands as easy as breathing, and he’ll give whatever it takes to make sure he can lay everything at your feet. “Fuck,” he groans, digging his fingers into the meat behind your knee, yanking it up onto the counter and you’re opening more, wider for him to slide in further.

It’s messy and animalistic, a building of sweat between your sliding bodies, a gradual intensifying thrum between your legs with each smack of his balls against you. Your body jerks with each thrust, pleasure scratching down your skin with sharp nails as your mind grows hazy, mouth falling open as the tip of his cock kisses that sweet spot inside of you, over and over and over with each inward stroke. The hand on your clit flies up to grab the sweaty porcelain of the sink in front of you, fingernails digging into the rubbery sealant along the sides. The other hand reaches back to tangle your fingers in his hair.

You’ve gone almost a month without him in the most primal way and your body is struggling to keep up. Your lungs struggle to pull in enough air, your slick-coated fingers slip against the sink, your hips burn from the open angle of one leg up on the counter.

But you can’t bring it in yourself to care, too deep in bliss to worry about your wellbeing, the pressure at the base of your spine building and building, molten pleasure bubbling in your gut as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” you gasp as you both climb together, meeting his thrusts as the tension coils tighter in your core. “You’re so strong. Love me so well. Fuck me so well.” Nanami groans harshly, shivering from your praise, reaching down to stroke your neglected clit, and you tense around him, choking at the pleasure that wraps around your throat, your cunt pulsing as it tries to swallow his cock and never let it leave.

You watch in the mirror as Nanami loses himself in the moment, all his doubts and insecurities forgotten. His face is a mask of pleasure and concentration, his body moving with a grace and power that takes your breath away. His hips falter, stuttering briefly to signal his match of mounting pleasure. He leans over you, his face in the crease of your neck, body bowing over to make you press further into the counter, teeth grazing your skin as he groans and pants against you with feral need.

He presses his fingers harder against your clit, rubs with a practiced motion and you’re tensing against the counter, scrambling for purchase on the sink as high-pitched keens shake from your throat. “Fuck right there, Kentooo,” you moan tightly. He moans harshly into the skin of your neck, relishing in the way your hot and wet walls tighten around him, doubling down, the fingers on your waist digging crescent moons into your skin. “Make me cum. Oh fuck, make me cum pleasepleaseplease—”

The hand in his hair tightens around silky strands, your body tenses up, your nose scrunching, pleasure pulsing and building in your cunt as you climb and climb and climb until you shatter.

A cry of his name, loud and primal, rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. Ecstasy floods your system in overwhelming waves, each one threatening to pull you under. Tears gather in the corners of your tightly shut eyes, born from the sheer intensity of your release.

And like always, your pulsing walls are the final push Nanami needs. He thrusts into you harshly with deep punctuating strokes until his balls draw tight, fingers digging deeper, a deep, guttural groan shaking from his body as he finally climbs up that wall of shame and follows you over the edge, his release pulsing hot and deep inside you as your body continues to shudder with aftershocks.

Nanami doesn’t have the energy to pull out, collapsing onto you without grace. The cool counter against your cheek is a balm for your burning skin. As you both come down from your high, trembling and panting, you stroke his scalp with the hand still twisted in his sweaty hair, fading spots behind closed eyelids painting your vision.

After a few moments, Nanami stirs, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder before carefully withdrawing from your body. You whimper at the loss, but he soothes you with another soft kiss on your temple. You hear the sound of running water, the tub filling slowly as Nanami retrieves a warm, damp washcloth.

With tender care, he cleans you up, the soft cloth gliding over your sensitive skin. His touch is reverent, worshipful, as if he’s handling something precious beyond measure, and you melt further onto the counter. Once you’re clean, he guides your leg down from the counter, massaging the muscles of your hips and thighs to ease any lingering tension.

You let him lead you to the tub, sighing in bliss as you sink in the hot, soothing water. Nanami climbs in behind you, pulling you back against his chest as he settles you between his legs. The heat seeps into your aching muscles, the steam smelling faintly of lavender, the gentle lapping of the water against your skin a soothing lullaby.

For a long moment, you simply rest together, your head tipped back on his shoulder, his arms wrapped securely around your waist as a thumb strokes the skin. The bathroom is quiet, save for the occasional drip of the faucet and your slow, even breathing.

Your mind drifts to the vulnerability you’ve witnessed in Nanami, the raw, unguarded moments he’s bared his deepest fears and insecurities. And only you will be the one to see that. You’ll be the only one to build him back up when he’s stripped down, to remind him of his worth, to love through every storm. Even storms that are as weak and barely damaging as limp dick.

“Thank you,” he finally speaks, rich voice vibrating against your skin, filling you with warmth from the inside out. He nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply as if to memorize the smell of your leave-in. “For being patient with me…for being supportive…” You feel the tension drain from his body as he exhales, slowly, as if he’s releasing the last of his worries into the steam-filled air. “I love you. Deeply.”

You smile softly to yourself at the declaration and turn your head to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with a mix of adoration and mischief.

“This wasn’t an easy assignment you know,” you tease, your voice lighthearted even as emotion threatens to overwhelm you. “I expect payment for my unwavering devotion.”

Nanami’s eyes, hazy with post-orgasmic bliss, roll playfully, a smile tugging the edges of his lips. “What’s my bill?”

"Moissanite,” you declare matter-of-factly, nestling back against his broad chest with a contented sigh. “The carats are up to you, but—“

“A gold band,” Nanami interjects, warm with affection and certainty. “Emerald cut. I have it memorized, my love.”

He punctuates his words with a tender kiss to your temple, his arms tightening around you as if he never wants to let go. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, a kaleidoscope of butterflies set free by his words.

“The box in the closet? Throw the penis pump and the Viagra in the trash,” you add, playfully jabbing your elbow into his side. “You won’t be needing those anymore.”

Nanami’s laughter rumbles through you, a deep, satisfying sound that fills the room and washes over your skin like a physical caress. “And if I want to be prepared, just in case?” he counters, his tone light and teasing.

“You’re 28, not 50,” you remind him, your own laughter mingling with his.

“Humor me.”

“I guess I could gather up all the magazines, powders, supplements, and various “aids” and present them to you in a nice box for you to use one day. Of course, you’d be single, so I’m not sure what good they’d do you then.”

Nanami’s body shakes with mirth, his breath puffing warm and sweet against your hair. “In the trash they go.”

You hum in agreement, an eyebrow raised before you tilt your chin. And like always, because you never have to ask, Nanami obliges, his lips slanting over yours in a slow, deep caress that steals your breath and fills your heart all at once.

Thanks for reading!

[kalinysu]

𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃. ⇀ Muzan x F!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your Muzan’s first wife, and only demon wife. You’ve known him for centuries, and he seems to have mellowed quite a bit with you. This particular night, Muzan seemed to be in an even worse mood than usual, getting annoyed with you for every question you asked.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing, verbal abuse, threats, sexually suggestive behavior.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first story, working on more. also might be some spelling errors, i’m writing this half asleep.

“I’m beginning to question what other purpose you have other than to please and love me. Tell me, why is it you struggle so much to complete one simple god damn task? Hm? Answer me when i’m fucking speaking to you. Would you prefer it if I fucked the answer out of you again? Useless bitch.”

You and Muzan had been lying in bed for a few minutes now, neither of you moving or speaking. You could sense Muzan’s anger, since when he returned all he was doing was yelling and cursing at you. You were too afraid to make any noise at all, as he had been cursing at you and yelling since he had gotten back, only stopping about an hour ago when he had gotten into the shower.

You finally built up the courage to say something, turning your head to look at Muzan, who was laying on his side with his back facing you. “Mh..Muzan? Can I… Can I turn of this lamp?” You tried your best to ask as nicely and softly as possible, not wanting to upset him or bother him even more. “Go ahead.” He mumbled. You hesitantly sat up and reached over to turn off the lamp, before moving back to your original position.

Normally, you and Muzan would be cuddling. But there was a large gap between you two in bed. You nervously fidgeted with your fingers, before looking at him once again. You stayed silent for a moment, trying to read his body language somehow and see if he was starting to get annoyed again. In your mind, you were complaining about the way he was acting. It was rare to see him like this but still, you practically craved his attention everyday, and now he wasn’t giving it to you. “Can I..braid your hair?” You asked, growing bored of simply sitting there. “..Go ahead.” He said once again. You moved a little closer to him, your fingertips running across his neck as you pulled all his long curly black hair towards you, not trying to pull on it too much.

You braided his hair carefully, making sure you didn’t tug too hard. You swore you could feel Muzan tense up at your touch for a moment, or maybe it was just you. When you were finished with the braid, you couldn’t help but ask another question. “Muzan can I—“ You were cut off by him already answering. “Go ahead.” He said, seemingly just wanting you to shut up already. You stared at him for a moment, before moving a little closer to him. You hugged him tight from behind, which only resulted in you being pushed away from him.

He was seemingly still upset with you for failing multiple missions, though you were glad he didn’t kill you like he would another demon, because you were his wife, you got the most special treatment.

Muzan then turned over to face you, his red eyes now open. He suddenly grabbed your face and pulled you closer, before kissing you, earning him a small whimper from you. “Stop whining. I can hear your thoughts.” He broke the kiss for a moment to speak, before kissing you once again. Your cheeks flushed red, only now having realized that. He had told you multiple times before but you never truly payed attention to his words. "M-maste—“ You tried to break the kiss and explain yourself, but his grip on the back of your head only forced you into the kiss once more. Your hands went up to his chest, feeling his muscular body through the robe he wore.

“Go ahead, darling.”

Your hand pushed away the silky fabric, opening your eyes slightly to see his bare chest, ever so slightly pulling away from the kiss only for him to forcefully turn your head back, deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Even going as far as biting your bottom lip, causing you to whimper once again. Your hands felt his body, ever single ab on his stomach, before moving down, attempting to feel even more before Muzan’s hand stopped yours, gripping your wrist. “Not now, dear.” He said, pulling away from the kiss with a grin. You were about to whine and complain, until he had gotten on top of you and kissed you once again, this time his hands were wandering all over your body.

“You don’t deserve anything yet. You’ve got no clue how tired I am of you being such a needy bitch, who can’t even think about anything but sex. Can’t do anything right, can you?”

“Master—P-please, you know I haven’t seen you practically all day…” You said, barely above a whisper. Your thoughts were running wild, no matter how much you tried to hide them, your mind was filled with the thought of Muzan fucking you. You couldn’t stand the feeling between your legs, it was far too much. You desperately needed attention down there, but it seemed Muzan wasn’t willing to give you any. Moving off of you and bringing you closer to him, wrapping an arm around you and burying his face into your neck.

“Think of this as your punishment, for not being able to accomplish anything I ask of you.”

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 6th Prompt: Dizzy

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 7

@steddie-week

Steve stands up, and that’s where it all goes wrong.

His intent was to grab more drinks from the fridge, but when he stood, he blinked a few times. “Whoa,” he murmurs.

“Steve?” Robin asks. She sounds like she’s at the end of a long tunnel.

“Steve?” Eddie asks. He sounds closer, but not as close as he should.

“‘M fine,” he says, “jus’ dizzy.”

Then he’s waking up in the hospital. “What,” he asks, then doesn’t complete the thought because Robin and Eddie are both standing over him, one on each side, holding each of his hands, and he’d feel so much love if he could feel anything besides general panic because- “I can’t hear you,” he says, breathing picking up. “I can’t- please, I- I need-”

Eddie shuts up, staring at him with wide eyes, and after a second of hesitation, places Steve’s hand, palm down, on his chest. He takes deep, purposeful breaths, and Steve can feel his hand moving, feel the breaths, feel his heartbeat-

He takes a breath. Another. Another. By that time, Nancy had gotten a doctor.

Later, he’ll learn this is something they’d been watching for, but couldn’t be sure of until he woke up. Later, he’ll learn that Eddie lays awake at night, sometimes, hearing the sound Robin makes.

All he knows right now is how to keep breathing, how to keep holding Robin’s hand, how to believe he’ll be okay, because he has to.

He has to.

He stays with Eddie upon his release, because they’re together most days anyways, and it’s a certain kind of torture on Steve’s heart because Eddie’s started carrying around a notebook and a pen just to write to Steve whatever he was gonna say, and Steve doesn’t think he could love another person more than he did, but here’s the proof, apparently.

They’re sharing a bed, because Wayne had previously called their couch “older than Jesus,” and Steve lasted for all of an hour on it before slipping into Eddie’s room.

The good thing about sharing a room is it helps curb the nightmares for a time.

Eventually, though, they come back with a vengeance.

Steve’s laying in bed, like he does every night, when he rolls over to face Eddie. “Eddie?” He asks. Eddie’s always last to sleep, so Steve’s not hesitant about asking, except Eddie doesn’t answer.

“Eddie?” He asks again, jostling Eddie’s shoulder a bit.

Suddenly he shoots up in the air, and Steve bites back a yell.

Suddenly there’s a voice that sounds like it’s coming from everywhere and nowhere, reverberating off the corners of the room, echoing louder and louder. You took everything from me. Eddie’s arms snap, and Steve yells, scrambles up, music, except what’s his favorite song—that puppet one, metal, come on brain, think—but there’s nothing here but country, bluegrass, stuff Wayne likes, and Steve turns to watch the blood drain from Eddie’s face as another gristly crunch echoes, louder than anything so far. So I’ll take everything from you!

Something reaches out for him, grabs his shoulder, and he yells, twists around, pushes away, hard enough he falls on the ground. He opens his eyes to see Eddie on his bed, Steve sitting just off it, eyes wide and hand reaching to help, stalled halfway. Illuminated by the lamp, too, which wasn’t on half a second ago.

Steve blinks at him, looks at the room. No floating Eddie in the middle of it.

“Dream?” He asks. Eddie nods. He stifles the sob and practically launches himself onto the bed, into Eddie’s arms, lets himself shake apart because he can.

Eventually he feels reverberating in Eddie’s chest that he knows means words, means speaking, so he looks up at Eddie, who’s looking at the door.

He turns to look, too, and sees Wayne. “S-sorry,” he tries, still sniffling.

Wayne shakes his head at him, walks into the room, sits on the edge of the bed. Offers his arms out in a hug.

Steve thought he was done crying. Trust Wayne to prove him wrong, because he’s tearing up all over again as he leans into Wayne.

His new position means he can see Eddie, who points at him, makes a talking motion with his hand, then points at himself and Wayne. Steve frowns. “You… want me to tell you?”

Eddie points at Steve again, insistently, and Steve understands: your choice.

“I can,” he agrees. “We were in bed and I was tryin’a talk to you, but you didn’t answer, and I kept trying to get your attention, but suddenly you- you were up in the air, and your arms and legs broke, and a voice—it was Vecna, I didn’t recognize it in the dream—said I’d taken everything from him so he was gonna take everything from me. And I was trying to find music, but I couldn’t remember the name of your favorite song, and the only stuff in here was Wayne’s stuff, country and bluegrass and stuff like that, and…” he sighs out a broken sob. “I couldn’t save you.”

Eddie reaches for his hand, but suddenly that’s not enough, he needs to be able to feel his heartbeat, have his breathing move Steve’s hand, so he tips over into Eddie again, gets his hand on his chest and his face in the side of his neck.

Eddie says something, but before Steve can move Wayne’s got a comforting hand on his back. He removes it after a minute, and Steve can feel the shift in the bed of him getting up, but before he can mourn the loss, Eddie’s got his arms wrapped around Steve as he carefully lowers them back down. He rubs a hand up and down Steve’s spine, slips the other into Steve’s hair.

Steve falls asleep like that.

He wakes up in almost the same position. He tries to apologize, but Eddie waves him off, hands him some clothes and points to the bathroom before pointing to himself and miming cooking.

Steve’s heart clenches at the thought. “Okay,” he whispers.

Robin comes over later, and they sit on the front steps as he recounts what had happened. “He’s just so sweet,” he sighs. “And I’m an idiot who’s letting my heart get involved.”

Robin wraps an arm around his shoulders and kisses his temple. It doesn’t help as much as he’d hoped it would, but he appreciates the gesture anyways.

Later she leaves, and Eddie pulls out his dedicated Steve Notebook.

I’ve got a friend in Indy who knows sign language. I could give her a call, if you want? He writes, and again Steve’s all but overcome with love for this man.

Instead of anything he wants to do, he just nods. Eddie grins and hops up to use the phone.

He’s back in a couple of minutes, collapses onto the couch with the notebook before furiously scribbling and handing it to Steve.

I spoke to my friend. She says sorry and it sucks, first of all. Steve snorts and nods. She’s willing to talk to you, get you started, maybe even get you some books. Does tomorrow work?

Steve gapes up at Eddie. “Tomorrow?”

Eddie nods and grins, then points at Steve in a gesture Steve knows has come to mean you decide.

“That would be great,” he says. “Seriously, I- thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie waves him off, but Steve can see the happy little blush on his cheeks.

They head out the next day. It’s probably twenty minutes into the drive, and even with Eddie sitting next to him in the driver’s seat, it feels lonely. He never realized how much he’d miss the sound of tires on asphalt. He wasn’t ever truly into music, like Eddie is, but he misses the radio. He misses the wind rushing past, the silence that’s possible to share when both people can hear-

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s pulled over, a hand on his cheek and a concerned expression on his face. “Sorry,” he tries. Eddie shakes his head, presses his palm more firmly to Steve’s cheek. “Fuck,” he mutters. “‘S stupid. Just… felt alone. I dunno. There’s, like, a million little things you hear every day that you don’t think about, like the way your hands tap the steering wheel when you turn, or the way your clothes shift and rub against each other, and it’s all silent now, and there’s not even music, and-” he takes a deep, shaky breath. Lets it out as evenly as he can. “I just… felt really alone all of a sudden.”

Eddie brushes his thumb along Steve’s cheekbone as he thinks. Suddenly, he grins and moves his hand, shoving a tape into the deck and cranking the sound. He demonstratively puts his hand on the door. Steve laughs and does the same, gasping when he feels the vibrations of the song move through him. He can’t tell notes, but it’s something, and then Eddie carefully reaches for his hand, keeps his grip relaxed until Steve smiles at him and tightens his own fingers around Eddie’s. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles, nods, and gets back on the road.

They arrive at his friend’s apartment in no time, and Steve would be jealous at the length of the hug if Eddie didn’t immediately step back to grab Steve’s hand again. Based on his hand motions, he’s introducing Steve.

She asks Eddie something, and he turns bright red, pulling a strand of hair across his face as he glances at Steve before looking back at her and answering.

She invites them in, scribbles on a little chalkboard, and hands it to Steve with a smile. Hi, Steve! My name is Nicole. It’s nice to meet you.

He grins up at her. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

She takes the chalkboard back, scribbles something else. Eddie tells me you recently lost your hearing. Do you mind me asking about that?

“Not at all,” Steve says, then frowns, somehow just now realizing he doesn’t know the full extent of what happened. “Honestly, all I know is I stood up and got really dizzy, and then I was waking up in the hospital.” He shrugs. “I’ve had a couple of pretty bad concussions, and I guess whatever made me pass out also just… took my hearing.” He shrugs.

Eddie shakes his head, grabs for the chalkboard. Almost. He bites his lip. You passed out, and I wasn’t fast enough. You hit your head on the floor. He looks away, takes a deep breath. I’m sorry.

“That is not your fault, Eds,” Steve tells him firmly. Eddie won’t look him in the eyes, so Steve grabs his chin. “Hey, look at me. Not your fault. I don’t blame you. Okay?”

Eddie shrugs, pointing to himself with a self-deprecating smile, and Steve knows what he’s trying to say. I do.

“Well I don’t,” Steve says. “But if- if you need to hear it. I forgive you, okay?”

Eddie nods, eyes big and wet, and Steve pulls him into a hug.

Eddie suddenly laughs, pulling away to wipe his eyes before saying something to Nicole.

Right. They’re not alone. “Sorry,” he tells her, but she waves him off, handing over the chalkboard again. I think we’ll start on the alphabet today. That way you can at least finger spell what you need, even if it’s slow.

“Sounds good,” he says, and she nods, talking the chalkboard to write the alphabet.

Slowly but surely, she teaches Steve and Eddie the alphabet. They get a little tripped up on some of the letters, most noticeably p and q, until Nicole takes pity on them and makes a p. She uses her other hand to draw a line down both her extended fingers, then tracing her own legs. She taps her thumb, peeking out between the two, and with a mischievous grin, points between Steve and Eddie’s legs.

They share a look and burst out laughing, but they don’t forget those letters again.

By the end of the day, they’ve gotten through the alphabet with enough regularity that Nicole feels they can practice on each other.

Steve pauses before they leave. T-h-a-n-k, then a pause, then y-o-u.

Nicole smiles, presses her fingertips to her lips, then brings her hand down to chest height, palm up. She does the motion again, and Steve copies her, grinning when she nods excitedly.

“Thank you,” he signs and says, grinning even wider when she pulls him into a quick hug before waving at him and Eddie.

They wave back and pile into the van, Steve’s hand in Eddie’s before Steve can practically blink. He smiles, unbearably fond, and squeezes to get his attention before signing, “Thank you.”

Eddie just smiles back, throws the van into reverse, and starts home. 

They practice more while they make dinner, throwing words like spatula and stir and chop around, and Steve didn’t realize learning could be this fun.

He’s watching Eddie stir the broth, hips moving in a little dance to a song only Eddie knows, and his heart is so full, he has to say something before his heart bursts. “I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound incredibly sappy,” he says. “But just… please just listen until the end? And try not to tease me too much.”

Eddie just smiles, grabs his hand and squeezes, and Steve takes a breath before starting.

“I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you were there that day, I’m glad you were there when I woke up at the hospital, I’m glad you were there when I realized going home meant being completely alone. I’m glad you made a complete fool of yourself in the hospital lobby, doing charades to let me know I could stay here.” He takes a breath. “I’m glad you have Nicole, because it lets me talk with you easier. I’m glad you never once let me feel like I’m alone, or like I’m going through this alone. I’m glad you’re learning with me. I’m glad you’re making this fun. I didn’t know learning could be fun, but it is with you, and I-” he takes a breath, swallows the three words that want to come out. “I’m glad it’s you,” Steve whispers, “here, at the end of all things.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s hands are cradling his cheeks, wiping away tears. Eddie’s just as teary-eyed, though, and he pulls away, looking for the notebook. Please don’t punch me.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed, to watch Eddie spell something. I l-o-v-

That’s as far as he gets before Steve gasps, understanding, or hoping he understands, and pulls Eddie into a kiss.

He pulls back almost immediately to check that’s correct, that that is what Eddie was trying to say, when Eddie pulls him back in, dinner be damned, crowding him in against the counter and doing his best to lick into Steve’s mouth.

Steve lets him, pulling away for a sharp inhale before diving right back in, fingers tight in Eddie’s hair and the back of his shirt, and there’s a sudden vibration that he just knows means Eddie moans, and suddenly he’s dizzy again, but this time he welcomes it, because this time he’s not passing out; this time, he’s dizzy because he’s drunk on love.

[puppym3]

I’m kinda new to tumblr tbh but I need someone to write this so here goes lol

I love your writing and I was wondering if you could write a smut story where Chan is feeling kind of insecure about himself and the reader ends up jerking him off while like cooing to him how pretty he is

basically a fic where the reader praises the fuck out of Chan cause he deserves it 🥰

.·:*¨ insecure!bangchan x reader ¨*:·.

wc: 1.3k (the shortest i've written)

warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, kinda subby chan?, established relationship, insecurities, comfort, praise, body worship, sweet, fluffy, slight oral (m. rec), handjob, (lmk if i missed any)

a/n: omg. i just finished writing and i was about to go to bed and then i read this and immediately needed to write it. tysm @hyunjinx42 for this suggestion <3 i hope it lived up to what u wanted

i love getting suggestions so if anyone has anything they'd like me to write, pls lmk!!! i also have a taglist if anyone is interested!

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You and your boyfriend were nestled comfortably on the plush, oversized couch, the soft glow of the table lamp casting a warm, inviting hue across the cozy living room. The air was filled with a serene ambiance, created by the gentle hum of the TV, which played a movie neither of you were particularly invested in. The flickering light from the screen danced across the room.

Your head rested gently on Chan’s broad shoulder, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest providing a comforting background to your quiet evening together. His arm, strong and reassuring, enveloped you in a protective embrace, pulling you close to him. The plush blanket draped over both of you felt like a cocoon, wrapping you in warmth.

Chan’s fingers traced idle patterns on your arm, his touch light and soothing. Yet, there was something different about his demeanor tonight. His usual warmth was overshadowed by a distant look in his eyes, as though his thoughts were caught in a whirlwind of uncertainties and insecurities that clouded his mind.

Sensing the shift in his mood, you shifted slightly, your instincts telling you that something was amiss. “Hey, Chan,” you said softly, your voice tender and concerned. “You okay?”

He sighed deeply, a sound laden with unspoken worries. His gaze flickered briefly to the TV screen, but it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere. The movie played on, a mere backdrop to the inner turmoil that occupied his mind. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, but his voice lacked its usual warmth, replaced by an undertone of hesitation.

With a gentle movement, you propped yourself up on one elbow, your eyes locked on his troubled expression. Your heart ached at the sight of him so distant, and you knew he was carrying a burden he wasn’t ready to share. “You don’t seem fine,” you said, your voice carrying a quiet intensity. “You’ve been distant for a while now. Talk to me, what’s on your mind?”

He hesitated, a fleeting moment of vulnerability crossing his features. He nervously bit his lower lip, a gesture that spoke volumes about the feelings he was experiencing. “It’s just… stupid thoughts,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your frown deepened, your concern growing. “Chan, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? No matter how silly it seems, I want to know what’s bothering you.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of apprehension and sadness. “It’s just… sometimes I can’t help but think you could be with someone more attractive. Someone who’s… I don’t know, more everything than me.”

The words struck you like a cold wave, leaving you momentarily speechless. It had never occurred to you that he, the sexiest man alive, might harbor such insecurities about his appearance.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Chan continued, his voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and self-doubt. “Like, I see the way other guys look at you, and they all seem to be models or something. And then there’s me. I mean, I know I can be sexy when I try, but it takes a lot of effort and makeup. Sometimes I just feel like you could do better, you know?”

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you shook your head vehemently, your heart aching for him. “Chan, that’s not true,” you said firmly, your hands gently cupping his face. “You know that’s not true. You’re right about one thing—you look nothing like those other guys.”

You trailed your fingers down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate care. As you slowly opened the shirt, revealing his well-defined muscles, you couldn’t help but admire the smoothness of his skin. Your touch was tender, each movement imbued with love and reverence.

“They could never look like you,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his neck. “They could never have this sexy body, and your sexy voice, and your adorable dimple.”

As you kissed a trail down his chest, your lips lingering on his skin, you felt the tension in his body begin to dissolve. Your hands roamed over his muscles, appreciating the hard-earned contours of his physique. You adjusted your position, gracefully moving off the couch and onto your knees in front of him.

Your hands traced the lines of his toned abs, your fingers gently caressing the faint lines and bumps that spoke of countless hours in the gym. “Too sexy,” you whispered, looking up at him with a playful yet adoring smile.

His face flushed a deep crimson, and he looked down at you, his breath hitching in his throat. The vulnerability in his eyes was palpable, but there was also a flicker of desire that ignited as he watched you.

Your hands moved lower, reaching the waistband of his jeans. With a slow, deliberate motion, you unbuttoned and unzipped them, pulling them down along with his boxers. The anticipation in the air was electric as you exposed him to your view.

His half-hard cock was freed, and you wrapped your hand around it, gently stroking it.

"Nobody can have a prettier cock than you," you murmured, admiring its size and shape. "Not even a porn star."

Your hand ran slowly up and down his length, looking up at him.

He groaned, his cock twitching in your hand.

You smiled, moving closer. You pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock, then licked the slit, tasting the bead of precum that had formed.

"Did I mention the sexy voice?" you asked, looking up at him again. "And the pretty face? And the way your dimple looks when you smile?"

You gave the head a kitten lick, your hand moving faster.

"So beautiful," you whispered.

He moaned, his cock throbbing in your hand.

You smirked, pressing a wet kiss to the head. "Too bad nobody else can have you, you're all for me," you murmured, your other hand giving attention to his abs.

His face was flushed as he watched you touch him.

You stroked him faster, kissing his cock again. "I bet none of those guys could make me cum like you can," you whispered, licking up the side of his cock. "No one makes me feel as good as you."

His cock twitched in your hand, and he bit his lip, stifling another moan.

"Nobody stands a chance against your hot body, your cute face, and your amazing cock," you whispered, pumping him faster. "You're so sexy, you're too much."

He gasped, his cock pulsing in your hand. He was close.

"You're mine," you whispered, stroking him faster.

"Yours," he groaned, his cock throbbing in your hand.

"So pretty honey, nobody else compares," you mumbled, stroking him harder.

You pumped him faster, eager to feel him cum.

"Come for me baby," you whispered, licking the tip of his cock.

His body tensed, his hips jerking as he came. His cock throbbed, shooting hot cum over your face and hand.

"Even pretty when you cum," you murmured, stroking him through his orgasm.

His body shuddered as he finished, his cock twitching a few more times before he relaxed, breathing heavily.

You released his cock, smiling up at him. You looked up at him through heavy eyelids. "So sexy, and all mine."

He smiled, reaching for your face, and pulling you up for a kiss.

You smiled, breaking the kiss. "Is that enough proof?" you asked, wiping his cum off of your face.

He nodded, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back onto the couch.

"Thank you for that, I love you," he murmured, holding you close.

"I love you, too," you said, nuzzling against him.

The two of you lay there in each other's arms, the TV still humming in the background.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

taglist for my beauties: @loverbangchan, @reignessance

[loganlermanstanaccount]

PLEASE! I BEG THAT YOU WRITE AN MIGUEL O’HARA FICTION! IM BEGGING!! PLEASEE!!!! (Sorry if I come off harsh)

Ask and you shall receive!! A quick thing I wrote (not proofread), thanks for the ask <3

Touch

Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel misbehaves. You teach him a lesson. part one maybe?? idk y'all let me know if u want a pt 2. (Part 2 is out!)

warnings: pwp!! light f-dom, angry (ish??) sex, grinding, slight m-sub, (m) begging. mostly just filth. I am soooo desperate for any character played by Oscar Isaac. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: I apologise in advance, native Spanish speakers. Me and reverso tried our best. 

wc: 1.4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A great crash from the workshop has you running from all the way in the kitchen, apron still on. 

He looks tired, hunched over his desk. Great hulking shoulders hang, tense in the dim light of a single lamp.

"Miguel?" It's soft, in the metallic hum of lights. "Everything okay?" 

He shifts, looking over his shoulder at you. "M'sorry for the noise mi sol, just tired." 

"...maybe it's time to call it a night, baby."

He waves you off with a flick of the wrist.   "Give me ten minutes, I'll come to bed."

"That's what you said half an hour ago, Miggy." It's under your breath but loud enough that his super senses pick it up.Your voice is fraught, frustrated - no doubt at the nights he'd spent away from you. Whether coming back late from tinkering in his workshop, or on the streets; he'd meet you fast asleep in bed, and wake up to an early morning rush. Either way, he seemed like a stranger in your own home; consumed with his work. It was taking its toll. 

You pad back, returning to the kitchen in silence. You clean up the remnants of a dinner Miguel had picked at, sighing. You loved him, and you knew he loved you; but he lived in his own world sometimes. Sure, the world needed him; but what about you? After everything you had given each other, how could he discard you so easily? 

It's only after a while Miguel realises the noises of you clearing up have long subsided, that he heads into the kitchen to investigate. It's meticulously clean, your apron hanging up on its peg by the door. On the counter, the remainder of his dinner boxed up in tupperware, with a post-it-note on the lid. 'For Miggy <;3' , it reads. 

His heart aches as he walks towards your room. You're dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, knees drawn and curled up into yourself. He slides into bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Mi vida?" He mumbles. "Mi vida, I know you're awake." 

You respond with an unceremonious grunt, back still turned. You're mad at him, and he deserves it. 

"I'm sorry." He says, listening to the rise and fall of your chest in the dark. He sits up. Sighing, he cradles your arm, tracing circles into the flesh. Gentle, and oh so soft. "I'm an idiot, you know that. I fucked up. Couldn't see how much you were hurting."

You stir, turning to face him. In the neon lights that stream into your room, his face falls. He brings a hesitant hand to cup at your cheek. 

"Say something. Please." Imperciptably, he watches your eyes fall to his lips. 

You kiss him, passionate and hot and angry. He can barely breathe when you envelope your plush lips around his, snaking your hand towards his back. You claw at his shirt, raking a hand into his hair. When you separate, it's obscene; a sliver of saliva still connecting his lips to yours. His scarlet eyes are low as he licks his lips; chasing your taste. You both sit up. 

"You haven't touched me in weeks, Miguel." Your voice is dangerously low, hand wrapped around his neck.

He wraps strong hands around your waist, guiding you to straddle him. For once, he's grateful for the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt - thin around the apex of your pebbled nipples. He paws at your hips, hands trailing towards your bare thighs. Just as they come to rest towards their crook, you snatch his hands away. 

"Let me make it up to you," He hisses at the contact, leaning into your touch. "Por favor, sólo una probadita, just a taste, my love."

"No touching." Dramatic, he protests, cursing in Spanish before you bring a thumb to his mouth to silence him. 

"No. Touching."

Eyes lidded, looking up at you, it takes everything not to break; you fight the urge to kiss the tip of his nose and whisper praise into the crook of his neck. Instead, you coax your thumb into his mouth; as he swirls his tongue around it, like he would on your clit. Miguel savors it like the sweetest honey, grateful you'll even touch him considering how he's been acting. 

He swells in his pants, hard as the crotch of his sweats graze your bare pussy. Beautiful tits pressed against his chest,  you draw small circles with your waist against the seat of his crotch. Precum spills as his hips jump up to meet you, desperate for contact. 

Immediately, you stop. With a pop, you pull your thumb from his mouth and Miguel moans at the loss. 

"Mierda. Baby, please-"

"No. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to use you to get off. You're gonna watch, if you're lucky. And then I'm…" You swirl your hips, causing him to groan. "... going to bed." 

"¿Entiendes?" You croon, spiteful in the slow sway of your hips. "Do you understand, Miguel?" 

"-f-fuck, ok, ok-" Desperately nodding, he grips the sheets by his side. Closing his eyes to steady himself, he slumps his head on your shoulder. God, he's trying so, so hard not to cum right there; turned on by the lull of your sweet voice. He likes it when you get angry and treat him like a toy - painfully hard at the way you light him on fire. Everything about you; your scent, the way you taste, the grip you have in his hair; turns his senses up to eleven. 

You grind on his crotch, steadying yourself with your other hand on his shoulder. Plush lip tucked under your teeth, it takes all his willpower not to capture you in another kiss: hungry and consuming and overpowering. He can tell you're serious; everytime he grinds his crotch into yours, you will yourself to stop and tighten your grip. 

"Miguel…" You warn, moaning softly into his ear. "I m-meant what I said…"

When his hips snap up the third time; you growl, frustrated. Both your hands move to his chest, pushing him down onto the mattress so he's on his back. He looks good like this; at your mercy and putty under your hands. You push up the lip of his shirt to expose his midsection and pull down his sweats. A happy trail snakes down to his neatly trimmed cock; its deliciously curved tip springing free. Precum covers his cock, so when you slide him between the lips of your pussy it glides like he was made for you. You bite down on your lip so hard, it almost bleeds. 

With this new angle, you plant your hands by his head; grinding your clit onto his dick desperately. The slick sounds drive Miguel crazy, and when his hands fly to your waist to help you along, you don't move them. 

"You're s-so pretty, mi vida… prettiest thing I've ever seen. Need it. Need you. Use me, please, hump my cock like I'm your toy, p-please, please…"

He knows your body better than you do. You're close, dangerously near the edge. With the way your thigh shakes and the spasms that slow your rhythm, he knows. You don't break eye contact with him under you, moaning as you slide on his cock. Desperate, you chase that sweet spot, electric when he angles your hips just so… 

"M'gonna cum, fuck, Miggy-" You writhe desperately. He's close, too, shamelessly humping your pussy like a feral animal. He can taste it; white hot at the tip of his tongue. Finally, you cum: a leg shaking, biting orgasm that rips through you. You clench around nothing, but it's not enough for him. So, so close; and it's ripped away from him when you come down, in the aftermath. 

Unceremoniously, you pant and roll off of him; spread-eagle atop the sheets. Miggy curses softly at his ruined orgasm - still rock hard. He's glad you feel good, but he knows he can make you feel better, broad hands pawing at your hips. You slap them off, and turn your back pointedly. The slope and curve of your ass taunts him. 

"Fuck off, Miguel."

"Baby, I'm sor-" 

"Fuck. Off."

Sighing, he takes the hint. Grabbing the pillow, he pads off to the sofa in your living room, adjusting his hard on. He'd give you your space, tonight, and begin to win you back tomorrow morning. He needs you, more than you'd ever know. 

_

_

_

[petrichor-han]

summer lovin’ ; hwang hyunjin

PAIRING I hyunjin x afab!reader

CAST | hwang hyunjin, han jisung, mentions of the rest of skz

WC | 6.4k

GENRE I fluff, smut, (slight) crack, enemies to lovers, summer camp!au, camp counselor!au, reverse trope: too many beds/two beds

WARNINGS I explicit sexual content (making out, breast play, handjob, oral [m and f recieving], ball & clit sucking, teasing, grinding, p in v sex, dirty talk, clit stimulation, unprotected sex), explicit language, e2l so they're kinda mean to each other but they're nice in the end <3

SYNOPSIS | you find yourself as a camp counselor at the very summer camp you spent so many years at as a kid—except this time, you’re stuck with a very annoying (and, admittedly, very attractive) co-counselor and bunkmate.

A/N | requested by anonymous. thank you SO much for this request; i loved writing this reverse trope!! i also turned this into a summer camp au because a) it's summer and b) i was trying to think of places besides hotels where there are multiple beds in one room. anyways, hope you enjoy and thanks again!! if you enjoyed please reblog and consider leaving a few kind words <33 (event is now closed, but requests are open.)

REQUEST! | EVENT MASTERLIST

Yeah, okay. Maybe in hindsight, scrolling through your social media at a red light was a really stupid idea regardless. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him the silent treatment when he asked if you hated him. And you definitely shouldn’t have dented his fancy car with your lamp. Maybe it’s not so surprising that he doesn’t like you, based on everything that he knows about you so far. Maybe this was all your fault, and you should take the blame entirely. 

Or maybe it’s not. 

Restless, you turn over in bed, sighing—only to look straight into Hyunjin’s dark, sparkling orbs as he stares right back at you, his gaze already fixated on your form. 

12 HOURS EARLIER. 

Your thighs are practically melted to the cheap, fake leather that makes up your car seats. And there’s not much you can do about it either, since your car’s air conditioning is broken and the weather is already sizzling—even though it’s hardly past eight in the morning. It’s the sort of day that’ll surely be a scorcher, the sort of day that you like to spend inside. 

Instead, you’re driving down to the summer camp that you used to go to when you were a kid. You had plenty of good memories here—you liked summer camp after all, but it wasn’t like you exactly wanted to spend your summer here as an adult. You can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as you think about all of your classmates and friends that have the budget to take luxurious vacations to various beaches, islands, and countries—and what they might be doing right now. As your car slows to a stop at a red light, you pick up your phone and quickly open your social media, scrolling through a few recent posts to see what’s going on with everyone. You can’t help but be nosy, when you’re so deep in your own stinking envy. 

A gasp escapes your lips, your hand coming up to rest on your chest as you narrow your eyes and furrow your brow at the next post on your feed. A girl that you used to go to high school with posted about being in the Bahamas, with her rich husband and their darling new baby—who’s smothered in sunscreen and wearing a swim shirt that’s about two sizes too small mind you, but they’re so perfect that it doesn’t even matter. Jealousy bubbles up in your stomach as you scroll through her post, looking at the background of the photos—beaches with white sand and cerulean waters, an obviously expensive hotel room, and a clear, private pool with a view of the entire resort. You gnaw at your nails as you click on her profile, groaning aloud as you see her other recent posts—clearly, she’s been doing a lot of traveling lately. And all with her husband’s fat paycheck, too. You momentarily wonder if it would be too much to send her a DM and ask if her husband has any other rich friends that can fund your ideal lazy lifestyle, but then decide against it. What are you, a golddigger? At this point… maybe? 

A loud honk shakes you from your thoughts, making you drop your phone. It slips from your hand and slides between the car seats, wedging itself just out of reach. Cursing aloud, you forget about the phone for a moment and angle your rear view mirror, squinting as you try to make out the face of the person in the car behind you—the asshole that just honked their horn at you. 

It’s a young man, probably around your age. He’s in some flashy, probably expensive black car that contrasts deeply with your hand-me-down, beat up old ‘97 Toyota. It’s so shiny and new that you’re not even sure what type of car it is. Annoyed, he runs his lithe fingers through his long dark hair and narrows his eyes at you, realizing that you’re finally looking back at him. Go, he mouths angrily at you, honking his horn again. He motions for you to turn around and look at the stoplight. It flashes green as soon as you turn around, making you scoff—what the hell was he on about? He had zero patience. 

“Fuckin’ jerk,” you mutter under your breath, as you step on the gas. Your car lurches forward, groaning loudly from the strain as you zoom away from the flashy, annoying stranger. His car disappears from your view as you hit the speed limit, snorting to yourself.

At least you didn’t have to deal with him ever again. 

You manage to dig your phone out of the car seat beside you at the next red light, and by then you’re already nearing the campsite. You recognize the tall trees that border the entrance of the camp, their trunks etched with decades of carvings and other graffiti from young, rebellious campers. A smile creeps onto your face as you recall the night that you made your own mark on those trees; you snuck out with a few older campers, feeling extra bold since all the other kids your age were too scared, and carved your initials at the very bottom of the trunk, beside a large knot in the wood. You remember that clearly—you chose that spot so that you’d easily be able to find it if you ever went back. 

You never did, however. That was the last year you attended the summer camp before you started taking up guitar lessons instead, which took up your summers from that point on. Still, you had several core memories from this place; important ones that shaped your childhood. 

The small parking lot for staff members comes into view as you turn onto the last road, entering the forest. The big trees at the entrance now surround your path, lining the bumpy, cracked asphalt road that you’re driving down. You park your car at the end of the lot, away from most of the other vehicles, and start unloading your things. 

It’s almost eerily quiet. You know that none of the campers are here yet, since counselors and other staff members are slated to come a few days before the kids arrive to get things settled first. But it still feels exceptionally still, save for the gentle breeze that’s blowing through the trees and rustling the giant leaves several feet above your head. You look up to look at the shifting foliage for a moment, sunlight peeking through the crevices and winking at you cheerily. It’s definitely beautiful, despite the chill that goes down your spine at the thought of being out here alone.  

You gather up an armful of your belongings, including a rather durable desk lamp that you probably didn’t need to bring but wanted to. Wobbling, the load much heavier than you’re used to carrying on a daily basis, you manage to slam your trunk shut, your car groaning from the effort. You can hear another car’s engine starting approach, and you wonder if it’s your co-counselor—you were informed that you’d be getting a bunkmate, with whom you’d be sharing schedules with and sharing campers with. The sound of the car gets louder, and soon you can hear the tires crunching on the asphalt, pebbles scattering across the road. You can’t see over the pile of blankets that are holding your lamp in place in your arms, but when you hear the car door open, you manage to shout out a greeting. 

You walk forward a little, but with every step the blankets and lamp start slipping further out of your grasp. “Oh, shit,” you curse, as you feel the load slipping from your arms all at once—you try to grab the lamp, at least, but only succeed in accidentally hitting it with your hand, smashing it against the door of the car that’s parked beside yours.

The car that’s parked beside yours? Hardly registering the dent in the passenger door of the shiny black car, you narrow your eyes as you realize that this asshole parked right beside you when he had almost an entire lot of empty parking spaces to choose from. Scoffing, you pick up your lamp and fling your now dusty blankets over your shoulder. Just as you’re about to walk away, anger bubbling in your stomach, the owner of the car opens his door, stepping out. “Hey!” he shouts at you haughtily. 

Your jaw drops. No wonder this stupid car looked so familiar—it’s the jerk from earlier. And he looks pissed; even more pissed off than before. 

Gasping as he sees the dent on the door of his car, he whirls around to face you, a scowl etched onto his admittedly pretty features. “What the hell?” he shouts, gesturing wildly at his smashed in door. 

“It was an accident,” you say defensively, hugging your lamp and blankets to your chest as you take a step back. You glare daggers at him as he frustratedly runs his fingers through his hair—just like he did when you first saw him, on the road—and curses loudly, turning away as he exhales sharply. 

You roll your eyes at his overreaction. Sure, it was annoying to have your car dented by a stranger—that much you understand. But the way he’s breathing hard and clenching his fists at his sides made you cringe, unable to take him seriously. You start to walk away, your shoes crunching on the dirt path as you follow the trail towards your cabin. 

“Where are you going? I’m not done talking to you!” the man shouts, running up to walk alongside you. He matches your pace, looking down at the mass of blankets in your arms. “What’re you doing, moving in?” 

“I’m a camp counselor, idiot,” you snap, nudging him out of the way as the cabin comes into view. It’s a decent distance away from the other buildings, which you can see faintly between masses of trees and thick summer foliage. The cabin itself is made out of reddish logs, and it looks cozy and classic—the exact cabin you have in your memories from your childhood. You fumble with the key, which is shoved deep in the pocket of your jean shorts, as you attempt to hold all of the blankets in one hand. You only succeed in dropping everything again, making your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as the man behind you clears his throat loudly. You whirl around, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “And what are you doing here anyways? I pissed you off so bad that you had to follow me?” you say haughtily, as you shove the key into the lock roughly. The heavy wooden door creaks open, revealing a clean, sunny interior with two sets of bunk beds. 

“I’m a counselor too, idiot,” he snaps, using your own insult against you. 

A pang of fear pierces its way into your stomach—he’s a camp counselor too? Here? It couldn’t be that he’s the one you’re meant to room with, right? There were so many other cabins that counselors could be assigned to. 

Whipping out your phone, you pull up your screenshot of your cabin address and your roommate’s information. You thrust the phone in his face, making him squint at the screen and exclaim in disgust at the proximity. “You’re not Hyunjin, are you?” you ask skeptically, looking him up and down. 

The man’s face pales, and he clears his throat again—though he sounds much less confident and sure of himself than he did before. “Why do you ask that?” he asks, crossing his arms. “How do you know that?” 

“Fuck,” you grumble, sinking to the floor amongst your blankets. You rub your aching temples, a headache from your stressful morning already presenting itself despite the early hour. “Fuck.” 

Muttering something under his breath, Hyunjin rifles through his pockets, and you look up as you hear what sounds like crumpling paper. He pulls a wrinkled sheet out of the back pocket of his jeans, trying to smooth it out with his fingers. Narrowing his eyes as he reads over his roommate information, he holds it out to you. “So this is you, then?” he asks, in disbelief. He chuckles bitterly, smoothing his hand over his mouth. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

You look up at Hyunjin to glare at him, offended by his disgust, but he’s already sauntering over to one of the bunk beds—the one with the bigger window on its side of the room. You spot a dry erase marker—left behind by another camp counselor, likely—and draw a thick black line on the floor, dividing the entire cabin in half. The marker squeaks loudly as you harshly draw the line on the wooden planks, and Hyunjin covers his ears, groaning in exasperation. 

“Just stay on your side and we won’t have a problem,” you mutter, capping the marker and throwing it over your shoulder. It clatters to the ground noisily, but you don’t bother to pick it up, or even look back to see where it landed—on your side, or his. 

—

At that point, you’d learned two things about Hyunjin, your new roommate and co-counselor; one, he was a douchebag, and two—well—his name was Hyunjin. 

The third thing you learned about him was that he had a stupid amount of friends, and you had no clue why they all seemed to have separation anxiety or something. None of them were even working at the camp alongside the two of you either—they just dropped by unannounced (to you) and started helping Hyunjin move his stuff in. The lazy bastard didn’t even lift a single finger as his seven friends moved in his endless boxes of clothing, of paints and oil pastels. (You were now wondering if the cabin was going to permanently smell like an elementary school art classroom.) 

“Jesus!” one of them—a small, jumpy guy with round cheeks—shouts, as he spots you sitting in the corner, scrolling through social media mindlessly as you try to stay out of their way. You’d moved there as soon as they filed into the room, hiding from their sight—and the multiple stacks of boxes that wobbled precariously as the seven men marched in and out of the room carelessly, brushing past it and scaring the shit out of you. “How long have you been here?” he asks, setting down a box full of what looked to be hair products. He wipes his sweaty brow, panting slightly. 

“The entire time,” you say, shrugging. You try not to let the awkwardness get to you—you’d hoped that they’d all leave before they realized you were still here. 

He laughs a little awkwardly, clearly feeling the uncomfortableness of confrontation. His cheeks flush pink as he realizes that they’d all just overlooked you the entire time. He tries to change the subject. “Are you his new roommate, then?” the round cheeked boy asks with a smile, extending his sticky hand to yours. You gingerly take it, not wanting to be rude, and shake it. “You’re not what I expected.” 

“Meaning…?” you ask, ducking out of the way as another one of Hyunjin’s friends walks by with a duffel bag that’s spilling clothing items onto the floor with every step. 

“Uh… just forget I said anything,” he says quickly, his cheeks flushing even darker as his gaze drops to the floor. Without another word, he presses his lips together and walks out the door, following a few of the others as they leave to presumably bring in even more of Hyunjin’s seemingly endless luggage. How much did a single person need to pack for summer camp? It looked like he packed up his entire apartment and was going to attempt to cram it into a singular, tiny cabin. Sighing exasperatedly, you kick one of Hyunjin’s bags over—it was on your side of the line—and sit down on the edge of your bed. So it seems that Hyunjin already told his massive friend group about what a bitch he thinks you are. 

Luckily, his friends don’t come back. He does, about half an hour later, with a beer in hand and his cheeks slightly pink from his tipsiness. He doesn’t apologize for his luggage that’s taking up more than his half of the cabin, nor the lack of warning before your space was invaded by over half a dozen loud young men. 

He slams the door behind him, exhaling loudly as he flops onto his own bed, slopping beer all over the front of his shirt. His eyes widen, and he groans loudly, annoyed. “Damn it,” he whines, pulling at the soaked material, “do you see this?” He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes, sending a surprising pang of attraction through your chest—you hadn’t realized just how appealing he was before, when he was pissing you off so bad you couldn’t think straight. His messy bangs fall into his dark, sparkling eyes as he tilts his head to the side slightly, studying you. His white t-shirt sticks to his chest, but he seems to have forgotten about it as his gaze meets yours. 

“You don’t like me,” he says suddenly—more of a statement than a question, but he still seemed to be asking for some sort of confirmation or denial. 

You hesitate, your words sticking in your throat as you try to respond. He waits patiently, expectantly for you to say something, but you don’t. Your lips stay sealed shut as you stare at him—and your gaze must seem so cold and unfeeling as your lips refuse to move a single centimeter—not even to quirk upwards into a slight smile to show him that you like him, just a tiny bit. Even if he pissed you off today. Even if you pissed him off today. 

It’s more out of embarrassment than anything, as Hyunjin narrows his eyes at your silence. It’s sobering—he can feel his mind clearing immediately, the slight tipsiness from the beer gone in a flash. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest and his cheeks redden as he tries to retract the flirty tone, the hope laced in his voice as he secretly longed for you to deny it; that you do like him, that you don’t hate him and you want to get to know him better—anything. “The feeling’s mutual, then,” he spits, knocking his beer onto the ground as he storms out of the cabin, slamming the door before you have the chance to fully register what’s happening. 

The tiny bit of “like” disappears at his emotional outburst, your expression souring as you’re left alone in the cluttered room. “You didn’t even give me a chance to answer, dickhead,” you mutter under your breath. 

Never has an interaction with someone gone so wrong for you before. Never have there been so many misunderstandings, and so many mistakes. 

It’s never been this hard to get someone to like you. 

Meanwhile, Hyunjin storms off, meeting up with a few other counselors and camp staff members, that were just about to head out to get some firewood. Similar thoughts stew in his mind as he takes out his emotions on the logs of pre-cut wood, his ax swinging in the air and glinting in the late afternoon sunlight. 

Yeah, he thought you were stupid for missing the green light because you were on your phone. Yeah, he was pissed that you dented his car. And yeah—he was really embarrassed that you didn’t answer him when he teasingly, flirtily asked if you really hated him—solidifying, in his mind, the idea that it’s true. 

He swings the ax down again, grunting loudly as he chops another piece of wood in half. He pants, putting his weight onto the ax and leaning forward as he feels sweat dripping down the back of his neck. A comforting hand places itself on his back, making him look up—it’s another counselor, smiling kindly at him. 

“I think we can head back now. We have more than enough for tonight,” they say, gesturing towards the large pile of wood—most of which came from Hyunjin’s emotional outburst. Slightly embarrassed, Hyunjin wipes the sweat from his brow and nods, pulling the ax out of the ground and following the group back to the campsite. 

The rest of the counselors and staff that didn’t go to chop wood are now sitting outside, around the empty, unlit fire pit. Only a few thin logs and sticks are tossed in haphazardly, and one of the counselors that was chopping wood alongside Hyunjin sighs loudly and goes to fix it. 

Hyunjin’s gaze drifts around the circle of people, searching for you. He sees you, sitting directly opposite him on the other side of the fire pit. You’re sitting with another counselor, with whom you seem to be making polite conversation with. It sends a pang of hurt through his body, a stab of regret. If he hadn’t been so hasty, maybe he could’ve been the one sitting next to you and getting to know you better. 

He settles for chatting with a few people that were chopping wood with him and roasting a few marshmallows to act like he’s not paying attention to you—though he definitely is. He swallows hard as he watches the way your face lights up when you laugh, and how pretty you look by the firelight. Your eyes sparkle as you talk to the person sitting beside you, speaking excitedly and animatedly about something—and Hyunjin finds that he longs to know. There’s something intoxicating about the atmosphere—it makes him dizzy with hope, and hopeful for something more. 

Marshmallow after marshmallow catches on fire as he watches you out of the corner of his eye, trying to pick up on any bit of conversation from across the loudly crackling fire. He pretends that he likes them burnt, loudly laughing it off when another counselor pipes up that he seems distracted. 

“You’re funny,” he says dryly, before throwing his stick into the fire pit and walking back to the cabin that he shares with you. 

—

He claimed that the smoke made his eyes hurt, and it was making him cough too. Even though you were watching him the whole time, and he didn’t cough once. Unless you count the two times he choked on burnt marshmallows, spitting the charred remains into the grass beside him as he insisted that he liked them that way. 

The empty spot glares at you from across the fire, taunting you. Was it you that made him leave? 

He was certainly mad earlier, when you failed to respond to his teasing. In all fairness, you intended to—it just didn’t happen. But that doesn’t ease your mind enough as you unhappily chew your own perfectly golden brown marshmallow, watching the remains of Hyunjin’s marshmallow stick crackling and burning in the fire. 

“I’m gonna head in too. I still have a lot to unpack,” you lie to the person sitting beside you, who nods and hardly registers your departure before getting engrossed in another conversation with someone else. 

Tossing your own stick into the fire as well, you make your way back to the cabin you share with Hyunjin. A small lantern hangs right outside the front door, lighting your way as you carefully walk up the creaky wooden stairs. 

You find that—unsurprisingly—it’s much easier to unlock the door when your arms aren’t full of blankets and a stupidly heavy lamp. You enter the cabin, and Hyunjin looks up from where he’s sitting; propped up against the headboard of his bottom bunk bed. His expression is unchanging as he briefly looks at you and then looks back down at the notebook in his lap. As you peer over, trying to be unsuspicious, you see a light sketch of what looks like the forest bordering the campsite. 

“That’s nice,” you say, clearing your throat as you lock the door behind you and sit down on your own bed, facing him. He looks up at you again, his eyes wide with surprise, before he turns the sketchbook towards you, a slight grin creeping onto his face. 

“Thanks,” he says carefully, as he puts the sketchbook aside. He exhales sharply and clasps his hands together as he looks over at you. “And sorry about earlier. I was kinda drunk and I thought you were making fun of me, so I bailed.” He forces out a sheepish chuckle, his cheeks burning with embarrassment once again. “If it makes you feel any better, I ended up chopping firewood and almost cut off my own hand a few times.” 

“Probably not the best idea to chop wood when you’re ‘kinda drunk,’” you laugh softly, as you hug your knees to your chest. Hyunjin chuckles softly along with you, feeling more at ease now. “I’m sorry too. For being an idiot on the road and for denting your car. I’ll pay for it. Promise.” You hold up your pinky—jokingly—as if you were going to make a literal pinky promise with him. 

Much to your surprise, he smiles goofily and gets out of bed, stepping over the line on the middle of the floor. He leans over and links his pinky with yours, gently shaking it as he meets your gaze and smiles at you, his eyes squinting cutely. 

He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your skin as he leans close, his hand large and warm against yours. You can see a knobby callous on his fourth finger, likely from the way he holds his pencil as he draws. Graphite and what looks to be watercolor paints stain his skin lightly, as if soap weren’t enough to rid the evidence of his artistry—as if it were graphite and watercolor that ran through his veins instead of blood, and it was just natural for it to be there regardless. His fingernails are clean, and kept incongruously short—another artistic precaution, you guess? 

Before you can make any more observations, his touch leaves as soon as it comes, and he pulls away, stepping back over the line and sitting on the edge of his bed, suddenly much too far away from you. It’s odd—you only spent perhaps ten seconds in such close proximity to him, yet you think that if you don’t get it again you might die. Is life worth living if you can’t be that close to living artwork itself? 

Despite the longing that makes your limbs twitch with holding back, you don’t say anything more to Hyunjin, and he doesn’t say anything more to you. He unpacks his things silently as you shuffle around the cabin, getting ready for bed. By the time the lights are out, the entire campsite is completely silent. The fire died out ages ago; the crackling and popping of the wood burning has long since ceased, and the smell of smoke is prominent in the air—though perhaps your wide-open windows might be contributing to that as well. But what else can you do when it’s disgustingly hot, and you don’t have any sort of air conditioning? 

A cool, gentle night breeze blows through the air, disturbing the loose papers on Hyunjin’s nightstand and making a soft rustling sound. 

Restless, you turn over in bed, sighing—only to look straight into Hyunjin’s dark, sparkling orbs as he stares right back at you, his gaze already fixated on your form. 

You hold back a gasp, pressing your lips together tightly as your grip on your blanket grows clammy. After a few moments of painful silence and prolonged eye contact, Hyunjin sits up in bed, ducking under the top bunk as he moves to the edge of the mattress, his blanket slipping from his body. 

You’ve lost count of the things you’ve learned about Hyunjin at this point, but you learn another thing here. 

He sleeps naked. 

You have to stifle another gasp as the blanket threatens to slip down further, exposing him completely, but he places a hand over it just as it exposes his happy trail. He chuckles a little awkwardly, his fingers tangling in the blanket as he pulls it up further. “Sorry,” he says, sucking in a harsh breath through his teeth. 

You’re speechless again, but this time you force yourself to do something even if you can’t say anything. The last thing you want is another misunderstanding, another chance for this terribly beautiful man to slip through your fingers. 

Hyunjin has to swallow back a groan as he watches you come over to him, your gaze washing over him in a way that makes him feel so desired, so wanted. He can’t help but let go of the blanket, letting it slip to the ground and expose his hardening cock, which twitches with anticipation as you sink to your knees between his legs. Hyunjin licks his lips, his cheeks flushing as he meets your gaze. Your hands smooth over his thighs before you push them apart a little more, and before he can say anything one of your hands has made its way to his cock, wrapping around the base of it and stroking gently, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He throws his head back and moans softly, his abs tensing as you rub your thumb over his weeping slit, giggling softly at the way his hips buck up harshly. 

He looks down at you as you lean closer, running your hot tongue along his balls and making him whimper. His cock pulses in your hand as you gently suck one of his balls into your mouth, feeling the slight weight of it on your tongue as you massage it carefully. Hyunjin’s fingers come down to tangle in your hair as he gasps loudly, more precum leaking from his tip as you use your hand to stroke his length while you tongue his balls. 

You remove your mouth with a soft moan, your tongue lolling out as you lick up his tight balls and up the underside of his cock. His precum is salty, filmy on your tongue as you lick it up before taking the head of his cock into your mouth, suckling hard and eliciting a choked groan as his hips stutter. 

“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he gasps, gently pulling you off of his cock as he shudders, his orgasm fading as his cock twitches, craving more stimulation. “I wanna fuck you,” he insists, when you try to squirm out of his grasp to lick at his cock again. He only tightens his grip on you, staring into your eyes for a moment before gently laying you down on his bottom bunk bed, ducking back underneath to crawl on top of you. 

His touch is eager but not rough as he helps you out of your clothes, throwing them onto the floor carelessly. His eyes settle on your bare skin with every piece of clothing that you remove until you’re completely nude, and he runs his hands up and down your sides appreciatively. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, biting his plush lower lip as he stares at your body for a few moments more, before looking back up into your eyes. His gaze is lustful, full of desire—yet there’s something a little mournful too, a glimmer of hope. 

It makes you want to kiss him, more than anything. Your lips crash onto his, but he was ready—it’s like he was wanting it too. He kisses you back eagerly, his tongue licking into your mouth as his soft lips engulf yours. His hands hesitantly rest on your hips, his touch light as a feather, before you place your hands over his and move them up to your breasts. He moans into the kiss, gently squeezing your tits in his hands and rubbing his calloused thumbs over your hardening nipples, making you groan. You can feel his cock rubbing against your inner thigh as he bucks his hips, hissing at the slight friction on his sensitive length. 

He slides one of his hands down your curves, his fingers dancing lightly across your skin as he reaches between your legs. Shakily, you part your legs for him more as he glides his digits through your silky folds, groaning quietly as he feels your wetness. “Maybe all that arguing was like foreplay to you,” he says smugly, earning him a gentle smack to the arm from you as you protest. 

“Then I can definitely say the same about you,” you retort, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. His length slides over your soaking pussy, making both of you groan again. 

“If I admit it, can I fuck you already?” he asks, his tone light and teasing. He starts to grind his cock against your weeping slit, obscene slick noises emanating around the cabin. You can’t help but let out a strangled moan as the head of his cock slides over your clit, making your thighs twitch uncontrollably. 

“Yes, please,” you gasp, not caring any more—all you wanted was him to fuck you. 

A cocky smile spreads across his face, but before you can make fun of him for it he slides himself into you, eliciting shaky moans from the both of you. 

It burns slightly; it’s been a while since you’ve hooked up with anyone, so naturally you’re once again not used to the feeling. The pain comes with pleasure, however, and you can’t ignore the deep thrum of pleasure that’s starting to pool in your stomach, your cunt pulsing around Hyunjin’s length and making him exhale shakily as he tries to hold still so that you can adjust to his size. 

He reaches down, his thumb slicking over your clit gently as he pushes more of his length into your tight warmth, until he bottoms out completely with a pleasured sigh. 

“So full…” you whimper, squirming underneath Hyunjin as he hovers over you, his warm breath tickling your skin as his lips ghost over your neck. 

“That’s right, baby,” he coos, as he pulls out all the way, agonizingly slow—before thrusting back in again all at once, his hips smacking against yours. The sound of skin against skin echoes around the room as he sets a deep, steady pace, making you whimper and cry out with each languid, carefully angled thrust. “So full of my cock…” 

He chuckles as you curse under your breath, a hint of a whine in your whispers that he picks up on easily. He starts to rub your clit faster, applying more pressure to the sensitive little nub with his thumb. Your wetness coats your clit, his fingers, his cock, as he fucks into you more desperately now, the mere sight of your tight cunt and the pleasured expression on your face starting to edge him closer to his inevitable orgasm. 

His breathing is ragged now, his thrusts more sloppy and less rhythmic as he moans and buries his face in your neck once more, pressing kisses to your skin and nipping gently. “So close,” he gasps, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin near your collarbone, “so fucking close…” 

With a choked moan, he pulls out of you just as thick ropes of cum erupt from his tip, landing across your tits and stomach. He strokes himself through his orgasm, groaning loudly as more creamy semen drips from his slit, leaking over his fingers. The sight makes your pussy throb with need; you still haven’t finished, and you’re a little pissed off—you were getting quite close, before he finished. 

Hyunjin notices your expression as his orgasm fades and he removes his hand from his length, panting softly. 

“I didn’t forget about you,” he says tenderly, winking at you before pressing a gentle kiss to your thigh. He moves down, kissing and nibbling at your soft skin on both thighs before he reaches your cunt. With a smile, he reaches down to spread your lips with his fingers, chuckling as you whine with embarrassment, heat rising to your face. “I promised I’d make you feel good,” he says, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cunt. “And I’m gonna.” 

He licks a fat, wide stripe up your pussy, groaning as he tastes your musky wetness on his tongue. He laps at your slit for a moment, making your thighs start to jump and twitch as you grasp at the sheets beneath you. The feeling of his tongue pressing ever so slightly against your hole, the teasing… it makes you leak even more against his lips, which he eagerly licks up again. His hands grab your twitching thighs, holding them apart as he devours your pussy. 

Moaning loudly as he wraps his plush lips around your clit and sucks, you reach down to tangle your fingers in his messy dark locks, tugging his face closer to your soaking pussy as he sucks on and licks your swollen clit. He complies eagerly, burying his face closer to your cunt—his nose bumps against your clit as he messily laps at your slit, his tongue slipping into your tight hole. 

It’s more than enough to push you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you—it’s so intense that your mind nearly goes blank, your limbs stiffen and seize as you whimper loudly, pulling Hyunjin ever-closer as your hand is still buried in his dark, tangled locks. 

He licks at your pussy through your orgasm, and once the last few waves of pleasure fade from your body he kisses back up your stomach, up your chest and collarbone, until he reaches your lips. This kiss is different from the other ones; it’s much more tender and sweet, much less hungry and full of desire. 

“Will you sleep here with me tonight?” he asks, pouting as he lays beside you, pulling the blanket over the two of you. He wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“In your bunk bed instead of mine? No way. There’s way too many beds in here for two people, might as well take advantage of it,” you tease lightly, wiggling in his arms. He laughs softly, squeezing you tighter—he really wanted you to stay. 

“Please?” he begs, tickling you and making you squeal as his lithe fingers prod at your sensitive sides. “Please stay with me?” 

You never really wanted to leave anyways. 

“I’ll stay with you as long as you want,” you say, pretending to finally give in, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you loosely drape your arms around his neck. 

“Just until you piss me off again by doing something stupid,” he teases, turning your face ever so slightly so that he can kiss your lips, instead of you kissing his cheek again. 

You melt into the kiss so quickly, so consumed by Hyunjin and his full lips that you hardly register what he said—until you realize. “Hey!” you scowl against his lips, as he bursts into peals of soft, melodic laughter. 

© petrichor-han 2024, all rights reserved.

please consider reblogging and/or leaving a few kind words if you enjoyed this fic :) tumblr posts revolve around reblogs, and i'd appreciate the gesture!!

[roturo]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ CHASING THAT FEELING

ੈ♡₊˚•. 'TILL YOU'RE MADE OF ME! gojo satoru & geto suguru (separated) ⊹˚. ♡

tags: breeding and breeding!, possesive behavior, unprotected sex, god complex, cult leader!geto suguru, crazy in love!gojo satoru, mentions of killing, mating press, overstimulation, dumbfication, tummy buldge, use of nicknames (doll, princess, love, baby, queen, house-wife), fluff if you squint your eyes to the point you can barely see. rbs & comments are appreciated! may gotten too lost writing for geto lol.

gojo satoru

this man won’t let you chase the feeling and would give it to you in a plate made for gold. It would become too much for your own good– most of the time it happened once he came back from a long and exhausting mission he needed to take care of. he was never really in a bad mood, but this mission specifically made his eyes twitch and even raise his voice at Yuuji once he came back. 

“Can you believe those fuckers made me do that?” his voice was low, sounding almost like a demand to you, “I… I could easily snap my fingers and disappear the higher ups if I wanted to. What stops me’ I’m literally a god to them” a specific hard thrust made your eyes roll, already fucked dumb with how he was using your body, like if you were just a fuck toy made for him.

“Wouldn’t that be a better idea mhm?” a small whine came out of him when his already sensitive cock was feeling that familiar sensation that made the both of you see stars, “kill them and just stay all day fuckin’ this pussy? my pussy.” his hands gripped your hips in even a more possessive way like if you’re going to escape from him any moment. “what d’ya think so doll? make you a mommy with how much cum i would dump in you, fill you up, be my little house-wife hm?”

in less than a second he had your legs up, almost breaking you in half– his thrusts becoming erratic and somehow faster than before. you could sense your night lamp blinking and some furniture shaking– gojo couldn’t take it anymore, he was so pent up this whole week he kept imagining infinite ways to fuck you and make you pregnant so he could no longer be away from you.

“Mhmgh- this fuckin’... fuck.” with that last thrust you forgot how many times you had come in the night, thinking you really just passed out because of the overpleasure, you felt gojo’s body suddenly fall into you– heavy breathing coming out of him, “are you okay baby? this was… shit.  ‘m sorry-  guess i missed you a little too much.”

geto suguru

he even got weirded up with himself after feeling something other than hate towards humans. but the way his heart softened each time he was you talking with mimiko and nanako made him feel that homely feeling again– he wouldn’t trust someone else to take care of them, fuck, he doesn’t even let manami  go inside his room but the he has you there inside taking not only care of those two small cute monsters but of him too.

“Ah… Shit- why i didn’t do this sooner?” there was a small bump adorning your tummy with how much cum there was inside you, each time expanding a lil more when geto’s cock filled you up again and again. “Fuckkkkk, should this be it? Make you mine? Fill you up and get you knocked up huh?” he thrusted inside you hard making you roll your eyes and fill your eyes with tears.

“I bet you would love that- All those stupid monkeys would be jealous, you’d be their queen, my queen– c’mon, tell me how much you want this baby.” his movements became slower, giving you some time to breathe and answer his question. face getting closer to yours he licked away the pleasure tears you’ve been displaying to him, “please ‘sugu- please make me yours- show those monkeys they have no chance with you, just… me” geto left a long groan at that, giving you no time to react and coming in once “atta’ girl,” that smirk appearing on his face, “i will keep fucking this pussy day and night until you’re made of me princess– ffuuckk-” you smiled at his words, cupping his face– eyes full of admiration towards to him even in this giddy state.

“fuck me until i belong to you my saviour” you whispered into his lips, before you could kiss him he answered, “I already do my love” he smiled and then kissed your lips– not in a hungry way, but in a way he could express what he couldn’t with words.

one of his hands crawled down until it met your nub of nerves, opening you eyes again to see his- “i can’t ‘sugu, s’much” -the pleasure was overwhelming, he was making sure you come dry, with no mercy he started rubbing that specific spot, making you arch your back, your pelvis touching his in the process. “the last one baby, i promise… i… i just have to make sure”

“please baby… make me a dad, make me yours, and i promise i will even kill all the remaining monkeys in this world for you to be mine too.” you chuckled at his sentence, giving a small peck on his lips “aw ‘sugu, you know that’s your purpose even before meeting me, the day i was born, i was made for you– i belonged to you.” “fuck baby, don’t say that, i’m only a god to those defenceless monkeys, you have all control over me.”

[juniperdugong]

Help Sleeping - Kim Mingyu

Mingyu was aware that you had work early in the morning.

Which is why he wanted to "help" you go to sleep.

You honestly didn't know what to expect. Maybe a glass of milk, some tea, a massage, hell maybe he'd even go the extra mile and do all of the above plus some melatonin gummies or something.

But no. Here you were, staring at the wall, sitting up, and lights dimmed. As your boyfriend sat in front of you with a pill bottle, a lighter, and a pop-it your younger sibling had left at the house months ago.

"Mingyu..."

"First of all, not my name. Second, I promise this will relax you." He let out one of his infamous little "he he" laughs as he zoned in.

Fully focused this man leaned closer and closer to you. You almost catch him in a kiss before his head swerves to your right ear. "A..." he whispers. Switches to your left ear, "S...". Alternating now he finishes the word with a breathy "M" and "R".

You groan at his antics but let him continue. And he does, oh trust he does.

For the next 20 minutes, you sit back and close your eyes, attempting to relax, as Gyu alternates between tapping on the pill bottle, whispering in your ear, lighting the lighter (careful to not get too close to the side of your head with this one), and bringing the pop-it to either side of your head and gently popping the bubbles.

Every now and again he would make a water droplet sound with his mouth, his breath so close to you that you would giggle and open your eyes slightly to see a small frown turn into a concentrated stare at whatever object he chose to entertain you with next.

By the end of it, he must've thought you were sleeping. His hands about to reach out to your body to lay you down but instead he meets your gaze as you slowly open your eyes.

"Gyu..."

A pout forms, "I thought I got you to sleep".

"Can you please, pretty please, the light of my life, my beautiful boyfriend, just make me some tea and get the melatonin gummies in the cabinet?"

He huffs and his pout turns into full duck lips as his brows furrow. "You didn't even try to enjoy it."

You scoff, roll your eyes, and put on your baby voice (the one made exclusively for him), "I did try baby, I really really did...for about 5 minutes."

"You let me do that for 15 more minutes?!"

"Listen, you were in the zone, how am I gonna stop you when you're in the zone? Babe."

"How am I gonna stop you when you're in the zone? Babe." He mocks.

"Gyu...please." you give him the most endearing yet sleepy expression and his pout returns, this time out of a minor sadness at your current restless state. Yeah, he could never actually be mad at you.

Being the man he is he's on his feet before you utter another word. Within 10 minutes he's back with what you've asked for. You scrunch your nose as you drink, a sign of thanks to him.

He gives you a radiant smile before wrapping his arms around your waist, giving your cheek a peck, and nuzzling into your neck.

After taking the gummies you turn the lamp off joining Gyu fully in the sheets entangling in the warmth of each other. Although it's dark you both know that you're both smiling. You reach out to cup his face in your hands and he giggles as your fingers locate each feature.

An attempt is made to kiss his lips but you catch his nose instead. Laughs emerge from both of you. This time you get it right though, your lips perfectly capturing his.

With a sigh, you say "Maybe...next time you just try holding me like this, huh? Because I don't know if it's you or these gummies but suddenly I am very very sleepy...".

"I'd be willing to test out that theory."

{If you're interested in being on the Taglist for my Seventeen works please let me know!!}

{A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, literally finished writing this, posted it, and K.O.'d lol. This is inspired by this video of ASMR svt moments lol. Enjoy my loves, get a good night's rests whenever you sleep, and for the love of all that's holy DO NOT attempt to pull an all-nighter}

[catiuskaa]

spots on.

SUMMARY: you. hannie. embraces. hugs. cuddles, and other synonyms. desperately needed by yesterday. complaints will be declined and ignored.

REQUESTED! by lovely annonie right here. and god you are so right, fluff + hannie is a clinical need, dare I say biblical! ㅠㅠ<3

CW: you might need a dentist appointment for this one. teeth rotting stuff. i assure you.

WC: 1.1k

A/N: so i’m back from the dead and haven’t written anything since february’s special and have been real low lately. thought fluffy hannie could cheer all of us up! <3

[☆🔹🫂🔹☆]

Han loved watching romantic movies by himself.

It’s not like he didn’t have anyone to watch them with. He had watched plenty of shows either with you or any of the boys.

But ever since he started writing and composing lyrics, a little before he got into college, there was something about those cheesy series that had him unable to stop watching.

His eyes would glow as he stared at the screen before him while he watched, invested in how the protagonist accidentally tripped and fell against the love interest, all over again. Giggling and kicking his feet when they held hands after hours upon hours straight of watching them bicker. Having his chest tightening because the actors were so good that he could almost feel the stars in his eyes, shining just for her.

Jisung loved those old-fashioned scenes. Dancing in the rain, a silly meet cute in a book shop… countless places for one silly little emotion.

Han couldn’t see it, but he also had stars in his eyes. He blinked, feeling his eyes lightly itchy, realizing he had been watching you sleep.

Not in a creepy way, of course. After all, you had wanted to stay over to finish one of the many assignments you two had to do together for some of the mandatory subjects in both of your majors. He sighed, his eyes weirdly fixated on your figure, unable to stop looking at you. Even while sleeping, there was a certain grace to you, as if you were just resting peacefully after a long day. He snorted upon realizing that your face was pressed against the pages of the book, a sneaky drop of drool coming out of your mouth. You looked so cute.

“Get a grip, Han,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head with a smile, giggling.

He rubbed his eyes, staring back to what he had been drafting the past hours. It was clearly obvious that his sleepiness was getting to him, because it was getting harder to decipher what the characters he was typing meant.

Suddenly, there was a hand lightly scratching your back.

You flinched in your place, sitting back up.

“It’s just me,” Han said softly. You blinked so slowly it almost looked like you had blinked one eyelid at a time.

“…awake. ‘M awake.” You brushed off drool from the corner of your mouth, to which Jisung chuckled lightly.

“Okay, sleepyhead. Time to go to bed.”

“Eh?”

“Bed, silly. We should have some sleep. We’re both doozing off.”

Bed? Judging by the time that the clock in Han’s apartment said, it was far from being that late, which was proved true when Hannie picked you up —God knows how, because he showed no signs of struggling— and brought the “sleepyhead” over to his room, that even after turning off the lamp on the bedside table, the windows let in light that the Sun had yet to take away while leaving space for the Moon to beam in a couple of hours.

He grunted lowly when he laid you down on the bed, which had little to do with your weight and much more with how you pulled him towards you.

“Hannie.” You mumbled sleepily.

“You’re close to cranky,” he smiled. “You haven’t had your coffee, and you fell asleep doing our assignment.” He sighed, moving stray hairs off your face, his hand lingering on its side, stroking your cheek. “Wouldn’t want to get on your cranky side.” Jisung teased with a tenderness only showed in your presence, not in his usual teasing, not with the rest of the world. Somehow, time spent with Han seemed like the world itself stopped spinning, waiting for you two and catch up later.

“…no.” You whined. His hand still rested on your face. Unusual. You didn’t want him to move it. “I don’t want to steal your bed.”

Unconciously, you moved closer to the warmth that his palm brought.

“It’s ok. You came here walking, and there’s no way I’m letting you leave now, not at this time.”

You frowned at him, almost pouting. You purposefuly resigned to argue, sleepily accepting his win over a silly discusion you could’ve won. But it was much better if it meant that he would keep being so… tender. You two were dating, yes, but it was quite strange, because even if you both knew about each other’s feelings, staying together had been more of a silent agreement.

Yet in that moment, seeing him smile, dark boba coloured eyes sheepishly and momentarily hidden by it, turning them into happy crescent-shaped moons, it was easy to figure asking was worth a shot.

“…stay w’me?”

His heart skipped more beats than he could count.

This hadn’t been planned. Well. Certainly not this way.

“Stay?” His tone of voice had lowered.

You hummed, smiling lightly. Your hand creeped up to his, the one that rested close to your face. In a sleepy move on your side, tantalizing for Jisung, your fingers tickled his skin, from his forearm to his palm, following a gentle path until your hand held his, and you pulled him towards you again, with more care this time.

Jisung could hear his mate’s low voice in his head, full with its classic australian accent.

“Ain’t no way she’s not head over heels for you too. I’d bet money on it,” Felix had chuckled, sipping the beer Han had handed him. “You guys are just blind cunts when you wanna be. Affectionately, of course,” he had added after seeing Jisung squint at him.

Han struggled to get comfortable in his now seemingly small bed. Of course it was small for two people. It had to be, because if you two were to fit in the space avaliable, it would mean that-

“…cold…”

The ruffles coming from how you then shifted on the bed were no match to how loud Han’s heartbeat sounded on his ears.

Your arm slid under his, lying limply on the curve of his waist, the other cocooned in the small space you settled in between you as you slotted your face in the crook of his neck.

thump, thump, thump.

He forced himself to relax.

“…how are you so warm, Ji?”

He had no fucking idea.

“Warm?”

You nodded, your hair tickling his face gently.

“…cozy. Like… a really cute ‘n little… weighted blanket.” You sighed, further relaxing into him, sending a chill to his spine as your warm breath brushed against his neck.

He was so fucking grateful for being so.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” He stated with a silly smile, a blush clearly obvious on his cheeks. He tackled you, and the two of you filled the room with giggles, his arms taking your body and settleing it on top of him.

You melted in his arms. “I missed you.”

He smiled, his hands playing with your hair. “I was only away for the weekend.”

“…don’t care.” His heart threatened to carve through his chest or melt when you tightened your hold on him, then tugged the blanket closer, covering you, thus covering him too.

He settled a strand of your hair behind your ear, noticing little moles in the way.

“I hadn’t noticed these ones before,” he mumbled in a soft voice that could almost lull you to sleep.

You hummed, not bothering to answer.

“I’ve heard somewhere,” he started soothingly, “that moles appear in the spots where, in your past life, you were kissed the most.”

With a sweetness that rottened your teeth, he pecked the small coloured spot in your neck. Then, he followed a short pattern, kissing the one under your ear, then another one in your shoulder, then finished off with the one in your cheek.

You smiled. “You don’t have any moles, do you?” He shook his head sideways, and you chuckled, brushing your nose with his sweetly.

“You better stay put, Ji,” you beamed cheekily. “I’ll make new moles on you.”

His chest tightened, and he beamed, chuckling as you peppered kisses all over his face.

A love scene like the movies.

His new favourite one.

[☆🔹🫂🔹☆]

catiuskaa, may 2024 ©

~Kats, who has to apologize for being dead for so long (and doesn’t quite have an excuse for it), and also has to tHANK ALL OF YOU BC WE’RE 1k FOLLOWERS IN BAKFBQIFNQKFKQK THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS SRSLY I CAN’T EVEN BEGIN WJKFBAKF <333333

[lucifermonsii]

Just top jealous Ghost😭😭😭💕

Your wish is my command. Also I'm still currently writing all of the other requests it takes some time.

M!Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Going to the cafe with Simon to spend time together, while ordering the girl at the cashier kept hitting on you. Making Simon jealous as you got punished back at home.

Cw: mentions of dicks, cocks, length, bondage, overstimulation, vibrator, cockwarming, cum

Smut

A shaky sigh escapes your quivering lips as you tried to stop the constant drooling from the corners of your mouth, trails of pearly white seed travels down your length and onto your stained stomach.

Breathing heavily as your chest rose up and down while you hung your head low, your wrists bound together by fluffy black cuffs. The vibrator taped around your dick hums aggressively against your sensitive prick as whimpers and pleas escapes your pretty lips.

"I- nghh.. m' sorry Simon plea- haa.."

You whimpered when he slightly shifts in his seat, making you take his fat cock deeper inside your tight hot hole. The way his dick was nestled deep inside of you and how his tip kisses your prostate oh so perfectly, making you see stars whenever he shifts as you cockwarm him. You squeeze around him when his finger tips trails your V line, making your flush furthens as if you weren't red enough..

Your face painted in a light tint of pink as blush spread to your neck and ears, beads of sweat trails down your body as it shines beneath the dim light of his lamp that sat on his desk. Your body exhausted from the overstimulation while he continues to type away on his computer as if you weren't whimpering on his dick.

"Should've walked away when the chick tried to shoot her shot huh?"

His voice rumbles through his chest as your back was pressed against his chest, your arched back against his fat pecs that acted like pillows as you rest the back of your head on your shoulder. Breathing heavily against his ear while you were on the brink of passing out.. maybe this wouldn't happen if you tried to get away from the chick..

☆

Two hours ago you and Simon went to a cafe to spend some time together, Simon already ordered his drink and went away to go pick a seat as you ordered. Your eyes darts around the menu before you finally told your order to the girl that worked there, she seemed to be staring at you the whole time when you were trying to pick a drink. During that time she tried to struck a conversation, but you didn't respond. She got frustrated before keeping quiet, her eyes seems to wander all over your body, inspecting it as you began to feel uncomfortable.

"I'd like to have milk tea with cheese foam"

You said as you look at anywhere but her, clearly not liking the way she kept on staring at you with those eyes..

"Oh! Did you know I also like cheese foam? That's so crazy-"

She chuckled as she tries to keep you at the counter, Simon glaring at the corners of his eyes from the interaction as an ugly feeling of jealousy bubbled within him..

"Anyways- what's the total?"

You cut her off as you bawled your hand into fists from being so nervous, not because she was hitting on you, but because of Simon's hard gaze that pierces through your back like sharp knifes through the air.

"Like the total amount of attention I've been trying to hit on you"

"S- stop-"

You cringed at her before reading her name tag on her apron

"Sarah, you're just cringe. Stop it."

She gave you a dirty look before looking back at her cash register

"$24"

☆

Coming back home from the cafe Simon taught you a lesson by overstimulating you with a vibrator and his fat cock deep inside of your tight hole.

[anemptypuddingcup]

Seeing his double.

Trafalgar Law x Female Reader Rewrite.

Seeing Double. Original Fic; Trafalgar Law.

Really wanted to rewrite this old fic of mine and give it a bit more backstory and extra elements or longer writing which is what the original didn’t have.

If you guys would love to see me rewrite any of my old fics, please suggest which one you’d like to see rewritten. Until then, I’ll be rewriting fics that I feel needs to be rewritten.

Contains: Two Trafalgar Laws. Law was split in two by a devil fruit power. Oral. Pussy eating. Fingering. Double penetration. Sandwiching. Voyeurism. Masturbation. Overstimulation. A very sticky fic. Just a fic full of porn. This fulfilled my craving for Law but also made it worse. A bit confused at some points but I’ve highlighted which law is talking. Blue is the original Law while Yellow is the doppelgänger.

Your door slowly creaks open and Law peeks inside before a sweet smile slowly began to spread across his face. “She’s so cute when she’s asleep…” He sighed out, his head turning around to face…himself. His doppelgänger smiles to him and he slowly walked past him and into your room while he followed, a grin plastered across his face.

“How do you think she’ll react when she see’s the two of us together?” Law asked, his smirk growing mischievous as he slowly peeled the blankets off of your pretty frame. “I’m sure she’s gonna wonder if she’s dreaming or not. Sleepy girl~” They both stared at you for a moment, watching as your body rose and lowered with every breath. He gaze to each out her before smiling wider and climbing onto your bed, their weight sinking beneath the both of them as they scooting in close to you.

“Fuck…She’s so fucking beautiful. What’re we gonna do with her?” He asked, turning over to himself while the other one gives him a mischievous little look in his eyes. “We’re gonna give her the night of her life. I want her to enjoy her first time.”

“Are we using Haki on her?”

“Nah, we gotta be delicate and gentle with her on her first time.

…

A soft little groan leaves your lips as you felt a pair of large hands against your thighs, their grip growing tighter against the soft flesh of your thighs while they watched you slowly open your eyes. “M-Mhh?~” You groaned out sleepily and began rubbing your eyes before you turned your head over to your beloved boyfriend, your body unconsciously propping itself up on your elbows as you sleepily blinked in and out of consciousness.

“________-Ya~ Wake up princess~”

“Wake up baby girl~”

You hear him say, a little chuckle leaving him as he crawls up closer to you. “Mmh…Traffy? Why did you say something twice…?” You rub the grogginess out of your eyes and slowly rolled over to turn on your lamp. You weakly reach out and flip the switch on, a mewl leaving you as you turned back over to your boyfriend.

You eyes widens as you see…two of your beloved boyfriend. “T-Traffy? E-Eh- W-What…?” You say with questionable shock, staring and watching as they both looked at each other and then back towards you and your beautiful frame.

The first Law waves to you while the other one crawls over behind you. “A little accident happened so now I have a doppelgänger for the time being~ Maybe it’s a little gift for you~” He whispers to you, his hand cupping and squeezing your face while you grew flustered from his touch. “Mmmgh…” You responded, your face turning a deep shade of red as you stared deep into his eyes.

The other Law crawls over to you and presses his body up against yours, his hands caressing and touching at your precious skin while you mewl out suddenly.

“You’re so soft and cute~” He whispers to you before he slowly presses his lips against yours, a groan leaving him as he adored the softness of your lips against his. You sigh out shakily as you feel Law grope your breasts behind you, your arms wrapping around Law in front of you as he held on softly to your head.

“God, is that how we look when we make out?~” Law asked, watching as both you and his doppelgänger made out in front of him. Law pulls away from your lips and he hums out while you trembled in his hands breathing heavily. “She’s so irresistible~ I see why we love her~” He mewled out, pulling away from you as he sits down in front of you.

He watched as his original counterpart fondled with one of your breasts, his other hand trailing down between your thighs and reaching over for your clit. He lifts his head to his doppelgänger and smiles to him.

“Wanna watch?~ She’s so hot when she’s flustered~” He asks, looking over to his doppelgänger before looking down at you. He nods in response and scoots in closer to you, watching as his hand teased at your pussy while you moan out all sweetly.

You gasp out shakily and rest your head against his chest, your body growing hot as you stared at the Law sitting in front of you. His eyes were staring down at his original counterpart’s fingers running along your slit, a heavy sigh leaving him as he watched.

“T-Traffy~” You whimpered, turning your head away in embarrassment as you mewl out at the feeling of his fingers trailing along your slit. Law looks down at you and smiles before giving you an adoring smooch against your temple. “Don’t go shy on us baby~ It’s only me~” He says to you, huffing out shakily as his cock begins to grow hard from feeling your pussy against his fingers.

You watched as Law suckled on his fingers before he’d move them down towards your cunt again, staring into your eyes as he slowly inserts his fingers past your tight and warm entrance. You moan out lengthily and huff out as he carefully began thrusting his fingers in and out of your sticky hole. “Ohh~ Oh fuck~ T-Traffy~” You mewled out, your brows furling as you felt his fingertips kiss at your sweet bundle of nerves so suddenly.

Law’s doppelgänger slides his hands into his boxers, a heavy and strained groan leaving him as he pulled his length from his restraints and began stroking his cock. “Oi, look at me darlin’~” He demanded you so sweetly, gaining your attention before you’d immediately look down between his legs to stare at his cock. You sigh out shakily as you watched him pump his cock, his hand stroking his shaft at the same pace Law was fucking you with his fingers.

“Watch me stroke my dick to you~ I want you to look and imagine that his fingers are my thick and long cock deep inside of your pussy~” He whispered to you, scooting in closer to you while you mewl out shakily in response.

Law hisses out behind you and begins pumping his fingers faster inside of you, his other hand reaching around and playing at your clit while the other Law began to stroke his cock a bit faster with a few heavy groans.

You moan out all sweetly and slowly began rolling your hips up into his hand, your walls tightening tight around his digits while you watched Law’s hand stroke his cock faster. Law bites his bottom lip and moans out, propping himself up on his other hand while he began thrusting his hips up into his hand.

“Fuck~ I bet your pussy feels so fucking good~ I just know it’s gonna suffocate my dick once I fuck the shit out of you~” He moans out to you, his words making you shudder with excitement and causing you to tighten and suck Traffy’s fingers deeper into your pussy.

“God, you two are gonna make me cum~ Can’t you feel how hard I am against your back baby?~” Law whispers to you, his hips grinding up against your back and making you whine out shakily. You mewl out loudly and arch your back, a hot yet tight feeling growing at the pit of your tummy as you grew more vocal for the both of them.

“Oh god, I-I’m g-gonna burst! I-I’m so close Traffyy~” You moan out, your face curling and scrunching up in arousal as your toes began to curl. “F-Fuck yes~ You wanna feel me cummin’ on your pussy? You want me to cum on this fat fuckin’ pussy of yours yeah?~” Law asked you, scooting in closer to you as before he began stroking his cock just a bit faster.

“Oh fuck~ Cum on her pussy! Please fucking do it!” Law growls out, his hand gripping your inner thigh and spreading your thighs open wider before he shoved his fingers deep inside of your pussy, nudging against your g-spot a bit hard. You gasp out and grip his forearm tightly, your moans now more angelic and loud while the sticky sounds of your pussy grew sloppier.

Law’s brows began to furl and he groans out heavily while he thrust his hips into the air and into his hand. “Fuck- F-Fuck I-I’m cumming!~” He hissed out, his hand gripping and stroking his cock a bit faster to squeeze out his orgasm while his eyes began to cross a bit. “Oooh! M’cumming!~ Oh god!” You gasp out heavily and threw your head back whilst biting your lip tightly, a heavy moan leaving your lips as you squirt out onto sheets and get just a bit of cum into Law’s thigh.

Law groans out shakily and cums out onto your slit, a little moan leaving him before he began to breathe heavily in exhaustion and arousal. Law removed his fingers from your pussy behind you and bites his bottom lip, a little moan leaving him as he watched both you and his doppelgänger cum onto each other.

Law presses his lips against yours, giving you a sticky and sloppy kiss while he continues to stroke his cock just to ride out his high. “Fuck me, you’re so fuckin’ cute~ Kiss me more you fuckin’ cutie~” He mewls out to you, his eyes looking down into yours while he watched you sit up. You grabbed his face and pulled him back into your lips, your tongue intertwining and raveling along with his while he moans out in ecstasy.

He slowly pulls away and moans out, nuzzling his nose against yours before he’d pull away fully and looked up at his original counterpart. “Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot~ I’m so fucking hard right now~” He sighs out heavily, his body scooting back from yours before you slowly sat up from his chest.

Law’s doppelgänger lied down beside him, a heavy sigh leaving him as he lied there with his still hardened cock prodding up in the air.

You mewl out shakily in sensitivity before turning over to them, staring down at the imprint of Law’s thick and hardened cock sticking out through his boxers before looking back over to his doppelgänger. You blushed deeply and sighed out, watching as both Laws peered to you before giggling.

“Mind sucking me off baby girl?~” He asked you, his words making you hum out while your face grew hot. You nodded and slowly got down onto your tummy, a little hum leaving Law as he felt your breasts push up against his thighs.

You pull at the waistband of his boxers before sliding them down, watching as his cock pops up while he hissed out shakily. You press you lips against his tip before taking his length down your throat, a moan leaving you while Law moans out in ecstasy. You reach your hand over to the other Law, your soft and smaller hand gripping his cock and stroking it for him.

The both of them props up onto their elbows and they watched as you took one of their length deep down your throat and stroked the other. Your eyes began tear up and you gagged a bit before trying again shortly after, a little chuckle leaving them both as they watched you. “There’s no rush sweetness, take your time.” Law presses his hand against your head, caressing and combing his fingers through your strands while you hum out in response.

A sigh left him as he watched you, your face all adorable for both him and his doppelgänger. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good wrapped around my cock like this~” He moans out, a heavy sigh leaving him as you began to bob your head just a bit more for him before pulling away and removing his cock from your throat. You coughed just a bit before looking back up to him with tears running down your face, his hand rubbing your head while you pouted up at him.

Both of the Laws caresses your temple before holding their cocks up to you, wanting you to try and take both of their dicks into your mouth. You moan out and open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out to them while they presses their tips against your tongue. You hold on to their cocks and suckled on their tips, a moan leaving you as you yearned to feel them down your throat.

They both looked to each and then back down to you.

“You can suck his cock since he hasn’t had a chance to cum yet~” Law says to you, pointing to his original while he began to jerk his cock in his hand again.

You looked over to Law and he cups your face and watched as you open your mouth for him. He slowly slides his length deep down your throat, groaning out shakily as he began to thrust and fuck into your throat. He held your head still while he thrusted his hips up against your face, watching as you took his length deep down your throat repeatedly while he moans out to you.

“Ahhh~ Fuckk~ Such a good fucking baby girl~ Keep sucking my dick just like that~” He groans out, his body slowly getting down and lying back onto his back while he watched you bob your head up and down. You moan out against his length, your pussy tightening while you felt his tip kissing the back of your throat.

Law hisses out shakily and threw his head back, a moan leaving him a s he could already feel himself wanting to cum deep down your throat. “Fuck I feel myself about to cum already~” He gasps out, biting his bottom lip while his hand had stayed pressed against your temple.

Law’s doppelgänger moans out shakily as he watched you suck Law’s cock, a moan leaving him as he felt his cock twitching in his hand again. Law’s cock twitches along your tongue and you moan out and begin gripping his hips tightly. Law fucked his hips up into your mouth, a moan leaving him as he felt himself ready to cum deep down your throat.

“Oh baby doll~ M’gonna cum~” He moans, his eyes shutting tightly as he began throwing his head back from the pleasure. You mewl out and look up at him, your eyes begging for him to just coat your tongue and shoot his seed deep down your throat. Law’s doppelgänger sighs out and moans out shakily, his hand moving a bit faster as he watched you take Law’s shaft so wonderfully.

“Fuck~ Fuck yeah!~ F-Fuck!-“ Law groans out heavily and grips your strands, holding your head in place as he shoots his seed down your throat. You moan out and your eyes roll out in ecstasy, enjoying the feeling of his warm and thick seed going down. He sighs out exhaustively and slowly moves his hand away from you allowing you to lift your head and cough before swallowing and remaining seeing lingering on your tongue.

You sigh out heavily to them, your cunt dripping and leaking so much of your slick out onto your sheets. Law’s doppelgänger sighs out before sitting up, edging himself as he watched you lie back with your sticky slick coating your inner thighs.

“Fuck that turned me on even more~ You’re soaking from sucking his dick aren’t you baby?~” He hums out, moving over to you and peppering a little kiss on your cheek. You nodded in response and spread your legs open a bit before playing at your pussy in arousal. “M-Mhmm…M-My pussy’s craving m-more of you two…T-Traffy…” You sighed out all needily, your fingers circling your clitoris while you watched Law slowly sit up.

“Y’hear that right?” Law looks back to him and smiles, watching as the original shoots up in excitement and crawls over to you. You watched as Law grabs your arms and pulls you up into his embrace, a heavy sigh leaving him as his bare cock kissed your pussy. “Does this- Does this mean you’re ready to…?” He asked you, his words trailing off while his golden eyes stared deep into yours. You blushed and flutter your lashes to him.

“Y-Yes~ I-I’m ready Traffy~ I-I need you both to take me~ Won’t you please?~” You asked them both, giving them a little pout while they both smiled to you in excitement.

“Of course we can.”

“Of course we can.”

They say in unison, biting their lips while their hands gripped your hips tightly. They both press up against your body, their heavy yet warm bodies giving you a sense of comfort yet flustering you even more. “Oi, did ya bring any lube for her?” Law asked, staring at his original while his hands circled at against your hips lovingly. Laws eyes widens in realization before he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck I forgot…” He sighs out, cursing himself for forgetting the one important thing he genuinely needed for you. Law shrugs and chuckles before lying your body down and pulling your ass closer to him, his hands spreading your ass open while you help out anxiously.

“Have any lube princess?” He asks you, his eyes flickered down to you before he stared back to your ass. You grew flustered at his words but nodded, pointing over to your nightstand. “I-In the drawer.” You responded, watching as the original reaches over to nightstand before gripping the handle to your drawer.

He slowly pulls a bottle from the drawer and throws it over to his doppelgänger before he’d shut the drawer. His doppelgänger catches the bottle and immediately opens it, his hand keeping you spread open before he pours some out onto you rear entrance. You jolt harshly and gasp out at the freezing temperature, your body trembling while he rubbed the lube in.

You felt him slowly slide two digits into your rear entrance, making you mewl shakily yet suddenly while Law watched. You blush deeply and shuddered as you felt the lube run down along your ass, an aroused sigh leaving your lips as you felt his fingers run along deep inside of you against your velvet walls. “I’m sure this is fine~ Just do the same for her pussy for extra measure.” He chuckled, removing his fingers from your backside while you sigh out shakily. He pulls you up and holds on to your thighs, his hands spreading your legs open for Law.

Law pours some out onto your pussy and you shuddered at the feeling of his fingers lubing up your slit while his doppelgänger peppered smooches against your neck. Both of them pressed their cocks up against both your entrances and you shudder in their grasp out of slight nervousness. The soft slid their lengths against you before sighing out, their cocks warm and sticky against you.

“It’s okay baby.”

“We’re gonna be gentle.”

They say sweetly, giving you adoring little smooches before they held you still in their grasp. They slowly begin sliding inside of you together, a heavy gasp leaving your lips as you clench your hands tight around your sheets in slight pain. Law’s cock had tore your hymen, causing you to you bleed out onto his length while he continued to slide into you. “F-Fuck~ Ahh~” You mewl out, your toes curling as the feeling of them sliding into you gave slight pleasure.

Both of them take it extremely slow for you, making sure you could endure the pain and take their dicks deep inside of your entrances. Groans left them both as you tightened around both of their lengths, sucking them in and pulling them deep inside of you. They slowly bottom out inside of you and stopped, giving you a few moments to adjust around them before anything else.

“God you’re so tight baby~” Law grows out, pressing his lips against yours and giving you a deep and loving kiss while you mewled out into the kiss. “Mmgh~ Y-You’re kissing my cervix~ B-Both of you are so deep inside of me~” You whined, sighing out shakily while they moan out in response.

They both slowly begin sliding their cocks in and out of your front and rear entrance, a moan leaving you as you felt Law’s cock smooching your bundle of nerves while Law’s doppelgänger went deep inside of your ass.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good, your pussy is just as I imagined it~” Law moans out, his brows furrowing as your pussy enveloped his cock so wonderful. “Your ass sucking me in so easily~ God your body is so perfect for us~” He groans out shakily, hissing out as he begins thrusting up into your ass a bit faster. You hum out all sweetly and pulled them closer to you, moaning out oh so cutely while they fucked you so lovingly.

You press your lips against Law’s, kissing him deeply and mewling out into the kiss while he fucked your pussy. Law behind you slides his tongue against the back of your neck, smooching and suckling at the skin of your neck while he continued to fuck your ass so needily.

“F-Feels so good!~ Y-You both feel so good inside of me~” You whine out, holding on tight to Law while their thrusts grew faster against you. The bed had began to rock a bit hard as their thrusts grew harsher, squeezing you between their bodies while you threw your head back and moan out so shakily.

Both Laws continued to kiss at your body, huffing out heavily while the sound of their hips slapping against your harder. Law trailed his lips down your chest and begins suckling and biting at one of your breasts, making you whine out before you run your fingers through his strands. “Fuck she’s just feels like heaven~ I feel like I’m gonna cum soon~” Law hums out shakily, your velvety wall massaging his shaft so wonderfully yet sucking him in so deep.

“Her ass feels so good~ It’s so tight and warm inside~ I-I fucking adore it so much~” Law gasps out, his cock going deeper into you ass and making you gasp out.

“O-Oh~ Y-You both make me feel s’fuckin’ good~ P-Please keep fucking me like this!~” You begged shakily, holding on tight to Law and pulling him closer to you. Law sighs out heavily and presses a smooch to your lips before groaning out.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum~ I-I have to pull out~” Law groans out, shoving both you and Law down onto your back while he fucks your pussy with more intensity. “F-Fuck!~” Law’s doppelgänger gasps out heavily as you sink down a bit farther into his cock, his hands gripping your hips tight while he hissed out.

You moan out loudly and shut your eyes tightly, holding on tight to Law’s shoulders as his cock kissed your cervix so deeply. Law’s arms wrapped tightly around your smaller frame as he felt you close, his hips continuing to thrust up into your ass while he watched his original fuck your pussy into oblivion.

“Fuck! Fuck m’cumming!~” Law groans out and quickly pulls out of you, his hand jerking his cock before he moans out and releases out onto your tummy with a heavy groan. Law’s doppelgänger continued to fuck up into your ass, a groan leaving him while the original lied back for a moment to relax.

“M’cummin~ I’m gonna fill up your ass baby girl~” He hisses out, thrusting his hips harder up into you while you whine out in response. His hands pulled your knees up to your chest and he thrusts into you faster, a loud moan leaving you as you threw your head back and arch your back against him. “Oh!~ I’m c-cumming!~” You gasp out, arching your back while your toes curled tightly from the pleasure.

Law groans out loudly and slams his hips against your ass a final time, cumming deep into your ass and causing you to gasp out and squirt all over the sheets again. You cry out and trembled against his larger frame, your eyes brewing up with hot tears as you struggled to handle your orgasm.

Law sighs out heavily and slowly pulls out of your ass, a satisfied sigh leaving him as lied there and sighed out in exhaustion. You sigh out shakily and turned over to original, watching as he moves in close to you and buries his head between his your thighs.

“T-Traffy? What’re you doing?~” You ask to him but gasp out abruptly, feeling him press his lips against your pussy which causes you to moan out shakily.

“N-No more!~ I-I just came!” You whined out, your body trembling while Law gripped your inner thighs and held them open. Law trailed his tongue along his lips and begins lapping at your slit, your cum giving it a sweet yet bitter taste alongside the slight taste of iron. You whine out shakily and gasp out, your pussy too sensitive and overstimulated for you to endure for so long.

Law watched his original lap at your slit, suckling up your juices and over-pleasuring your cunt with unneeded stimulation.

“P-Please Traffyyyy!~ I-I’m gonna cum again if y-you keep g-going!~” You whines out, your tears running down your face as he continues to eat out your pussy so lovingly. He growls out and swirls his tongue along your clit before moving down to your sticky hole, sliding his tongue past your entrance and overstimulating your sensitive velvety walls.

His tongue nudges your g-spot, making you gasp out and whine out while you felt your lower tummy growing sore. “M-M’gonna cum again! P-Please! T-Traffy!~” You pleaded, arching your back and gripping Law’s strands while he gripped your thighs. “Cum baby~ Cum on daddy’s tongue~ I wanna fuckin’ taste you~” He groans out, sticking his tongue out to you and sliding it along your slit once again.

You whine out and wiggle your hips weakly before moaning out exhaustively, your pussy creaming on Law’s tongue while he moans out in satisfaction. He finally pulls away from you and huffs out, giving you a loving little kiss while you breathed heavily. Law slowly spreads your ass open and watched his doppelgänger’s cum spilled out of you, your body trembling with overstimulation while you lied there breathing heavily.

“God that was so fucking hot~ How was that for your first time?” He asked, staring down into your now sleepy eyes. “F-Felt…s’good~ I-I loved it so much~” You moaned out to him in response, a yawn leaving your lips as you struggled to stay awake. Both of the Laws press a smooch against your cheeks before pulling the blankets back onto your body, their bodies cuddling up and moving in closer against yours to keep you warm and to give you comfort.

“Get some rest my princess~” Law whispers to you, lying beside you as he stared down at your sleeping expression. Him and his original look to each other before the both laugh, happy to finally help take your virginity and make you feel so good in the process.

“I love you guys so much…” You whispered out to them sleepily, your works making them both smile widely.

“We love you too.”

“We love you too.”

They say in unison once again, their words being the last thing you heard before you fell asleep.

They both watched as you fell back asleep, your expression just as cute as it was before. “She’s such an angel~ Can’t I stay around longer to witness how she is originally in your daily lives?~” Law asked his original, his hand propping up his head while he stared at the original. “If I can find out how that dude’s devil fruit works, I might be able to work something out for both you and me. Might be some medicines out there to support the power itself.” He replies, his hand playing at your hair while his doppelgänger chuckles.

“I don’t have much longer left before I disappear so, I guess I’ll be hanging until then.”

“That’s cool with me, maybe we could make love with her for you one more time before you disappear.”

“God, please do~ I enjoyed watching you two but I don’t mind doing the fucking either. Do you think I can fuck her pussy next time?”

“Yeah, I took her first so, I’m fine with it. You’re me and I’m you so I guess it wouldn’t matter afterwards.”

They both smiled before moving in closer to your body and wrapping their arms around you, keeping you nestled within their embrace before they both fell asleep afterward.