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#and a PINK FUCKING NOSE. LIKE A MAN.
firefox-official · 2 years
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hiya do you plan on doing anything for halloween? if yes then who do you think youll go as :O (assuming you do something in costume/trick or treating kind of thing)
i was bugs bunny last year but i feel like i didnt do it justice last time. i think i need to do it again.
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dollsuguru · 1 month
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let it be known…. bestie!sukuna does a killer winged eyeliner
#sharp enough to cut a man and that’s his goal i just know he does the meanest winged eyeliner for you in class#you hand him the pen w/o saying a word and he’s immediately grabbing the back of your head to steady you#if suguru sees that he’s like What Thw Fuck Is going onnimm gonna be Sick#firmly believe that reader & everyone in school has a mini crush on sukuna#i say mini bc he is so fucking sexy but the moment he opens his mouth you’re like damn… i regret all my life choices why’s he yelling at me#anyways. reader is the only one who can tolerate sukuna and vice versa <3 reader is friendly so everyone loves them#but like. BEST FRIEND wise? it’s sukie & reader til death does them part 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼 i love them so much idk why their dynamic makes me so happy#okay i’m just talking to myself in the tags rn hmmm how do i want him to look#pink hair + black undercut OBVIOUSLY. face tatts/body tatts OBVIOUSLY.#ear piercings + helix + industrials + eyebrow piercing + nose piercing + snake bites + tongue piercing OBVIOUSLY#he’d also wear reading glasses. FKN nerd 😹😹😹 i have 20/20 vision i can’t relate 🤭🤭🤭#immaculately dressed & insanely intelligent you can call sukuna a lot of things but you can’t call him ugly or dumb#i think he’d have reader’s birth flower tattooed on him too just as a nod to how much he loves/cares for them <3#where should he work… maybe at the same tattoo shop as suguru? yeah maybe that could work#sukie’ll be a piercer while sugu is a tattooist yeah that checks out#maybe they’re in the same frat? yeah that could work part 2#okay YAY cool i’m glad i’m fleshing him out :3#snippets#personal
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nkogneatho · 6 months
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𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘
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—a/n: ngl i cooked. overcooked even, so imagine some of the nastiest shit, this has it all. if i studied this much in my exams i would have a higher CGPA. anyways. hex codes are given. hope you like it.
—cw: dick+pubes+balls+cum analysis (kill me pls), monsterfucking in sukunas, creampie and breeding, never heard phrases from my dicktionary, not proofread plus it's 4 am i am half asleep
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
code: length: #ffe8d6 , tip: #f2aab7
We all know it. King of long dick. okay but no fr he has the longest dick in jjk. but let's get to the details. so size?? a whopping 7 inches. but you know his dick does this thing that when it gets hard, it curves slightly so hey!! maybe the true size is 7.2 or something. about color...his cock has the same color as his normal skin tone but as it approaches to the tip, it falls under a blushing pink gradient. and god his tip is so pink when he's hard, it feels likes all the blood in his body is settling there. his pubes hmm? white bush. he does trim it tho. but c'mon man!! it's gojo satoru we're talking about. he gets off seeing your nose rubbing against his white trim when you deepthroat him. also it's very rare for people to deepthroat him because as i said, longest dick. which is why when you actually manage to take him all the way in, the rare feeling of the throat sucking in has him shooting his translucent load down your throat. how does his cum taste? slightly sweet. duh. he's a sweet tooth and the reason he doesn't get diabetes is because all the sugar goes into his semen.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
code: length: #ad8272 , tip: #875f54
*long inhale* bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock. incase i wasn't clear. he has a BIG FAT FUCKING COCK. he has the cock of our dreams. his size is long and girth is thick asf. length would be about 6.8 or 6.7. well about the girth...3.5 inches. yeah. good luck sucking that in your hole lmao. let's get to the tone. his cock has much darker color than his body. he has one of those milktea brown cocks. and the cockhead is even darker like coffee. oh wait! the cockhead. right. so hear me out. DID YOU KNOW HE HAS A FAT MUSHROOM TIP? the kind that is so thick that it gets lowkey stuck in your hole when he pulls out. my man has to tell you to breathe and relax so he can get it out. about his balls, bitch they're as the same size as big lemons. like you know why he wears those baggy bottoms otherwise everyone would see those nuts easily. they're not even nuts. nuts are dry. his have so much cum inside that if he doesn't shoot his load in you or on you once a day, they'll actually explode. cum taste? i said it before here but incase you're new here, it tastes like if someone put a little lemon and msg in thick and creamy alfredo sauce. bye.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
code: length: #c99a89 , tip: #fcd7ca
*evil laugh* i am not holding back on him but hear me out. HORSE COCK. have you seen it?? it's like curvy girthy cock. me thinks he has long hair and broad shoulders. and have you seen his hands??? it all sums up. isn't as long as gojo but god that meat is fat as fuck. his size has to be around 6 inches and the girth from a 2d angle is about 2 so i found the pythagorean theorem of his cock which is like 6.324 inches. so his tip starts at like 5.324 inches. about the tone...his dick starts darker—or maybe it's cuz of his pubes—at the base but as it reaches towards the head, it blends into the color of his skin tone. geto likes to clean shave sometimes but you know when he saw you drooling over his happy trail when he came out of the shower with a flimsy towel wrapped around his body, yeah he couldn't get that drooling expression of yours out of his head. so he trims it to the length that wouldn't get in the way and is easy to keep it clean but also enough to make you salivate. his balls are very similar to a fig in shape. aren't really fat but they grow hella tight when he is close to cumming. the taste of his cum is sour. i am telling you. like not too sour but it sorta has the acidic taste to it. but nonetheless it tastes good on your tongue. on his too, when he kisses you after shooting a load in your mouth
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
code: length: #e8cca9 , tip: #b59267
chooo choo mfs. i am about to go off. dw i won't slander him, he has already suffered enough. #justicefornanami but anyways back with my girthy cock agenda. now listen. he is not long. i mean he has an average size but the girth??? sheesh! that makes up for it. his length has to be like 5.8 or max to max 6 though gotta love that 4 inches girth, big fat meat, exceeeding half the size of his length. now if you don't understand this concept in numericals, let me indulge you in a scenario that might help. imagine him coming home frustrated from work and all he needs is a warm shower. but there you are all slutty in your outfit and all he wants to do is blow your back out. so he gets hard...like really hard. and it's so painful for his cock to stay put under all those layers of cloth that if he doesn't free it, it will tear it's fat way out. so when he finally decides to unbuckle the belt, pull his undies down with the waistband, his cock jumps out and slaps against his shaved pelvis. so loud that you can hear it over the noise of the tv. now you get it? no? okay hear this one. when he wears an underwear coming fresh out of the shower, his dick takes up about the area similar to a size of a bowl. about his tip, he has a fat tip bruh. not too fat because the base is much thick but yeah. now time for the taste, mixture of citrusy and salty. like when he cums in your tongue it has that salty flavor but the after taste is sweeter and falls more of the citrusy side. maybe like a tangerine. wow i really went off. apologies everyone.
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
code: base: #805149 , length: #f5d7c6 , tip: #edc8bb
i am in my monsterfucking era so this is gonna be monster kuna. so we all know four arms, two dicks yada yada yada but did you know sukuna has a special ability?? like we all know he can summon his mouth anywhere but did you know he can summon his dick too? anywhere on his body. he does this thing where if you act too bratty, he'd throw his palm your mouth and you'd think he's just blocking your voice but this mf pops out a whole ass 8 inch monster cock in your mouth that has you gagging and choking, eyes rolling back. *728 dead. 263 injured* there's no size for kuna since he can adjust the size but if we're talking tones, the base of his cocks (wow. plural. would you look at that) have reddish undertone. like tomato red but the actual dickbod has like peachy pink color. his cockhead is long and kinda blends into the length. his cum tastes bitter and sour. not repellent but the taste is still strong. don't underestimate this man though. he'll rip your holes apart yet have you begging him for more. that's what simply is the power of the king of curses. he has you compelled. but i gotta give it to sukuna fuckers. y'all have some of the strongest pussy/ass.
𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
code: length: #f2e7c4 , tip: #d6b596
chosito's cock represents a shampoo bottle. now you might ask which one. the retail shampoo bottle that you use as your mic in the shower. he has a pretty and perfect dick. his girth is thick enough for you to wrap your fingers around you and his length enough to fill you up. whenever you stroke his cock, you can't stop looking at it. it just fits right. like it was made for you. so perfect. his size falls under 5.6 to 5.9 inches and the girth is 2.5 inches, so it's like a good ratio. he has an olive undertone and a darker mushroom tip. his pubes aren't trimmed but he keeps them extra clean. you know it because whenever you give him a blowjob and you take him all the way in, there is a floral smell lingering around the area. he doesn't naturally sweat a lot plus he has a very bouncy skin with slightly soft texture so his cock is always pleasant to suck. choso also has very visible veins. and when i mean very...i mean very. like i mentioned his skin has a soft texture so the skin on his length is flimsy and kinda see through. so when you are settled between his legs, stroking him, your eyes are so indulged in watching the blood rush through them and when he cums, his veins start slightly moving and his balls tightens. Oh! Balls. can i say it?? okay i'll say it. Breeder balls. i told you he has a 5.6 inch cock, y'all would have been disappointed. but see the creator of this universe took a few mass off his dick only for it to be filled in them breeder balls. which is why, he cums a lot. when he shoots a load, he almost gives you a facial. his cum is sweet with a metallic taste. but hey! it's a pleasure to swallow his cum. but you know why i compared his cock to a shampoo bottle? it because when he is so horny and hard and you give his base a few big squeezes, he'll spurt out a thick load of cum like your shampoo.
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Tags: @bluberrimuffintop @anxious-chick @yuujispinkhair @osamwah @arisaturn @multistan-247 @sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast @mrskokushibo @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi @crescentmoontsuki @dianagracesworld @ariachaos @pu-re-love @trueformsukuna @loyal-to-my-dilf @baizzhu @w0nderbeluga @splatmastr   @vuggevise @makisslut @moonish-en @lufemia @jeanboyjean @marshadowstea @frustrated-kitten @katsukichu @sir-kuroo @aleks-chan @dreadsuitsamus @justiceforquentin @kitashousewife @jiaspoon @sintiva @dawn-bunni @mostlyhornyandsad @dilfslayer3000 @shadowy--night @palebananafury @shutyourwhoremouthbecky @figlia-della-luna @marenalee @aoitoge @lahniu @kayjayxx @seraphinaivy @megumistoehair
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ramonathinks · 7 months
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Say His Name | SUKUNA
Say his name three times and he shall appear, fucking virgins before he disappear.
tags: (18+, minors and ageless blogs dni) corruption, virginity loss, monster-fucking, double cocks, mouth fucking, pet names (pet, my human, female), oral(f! receiving), handjobs, nipple play, fingering, creampies, copious amounts of cum, tummy bulge, sex in sukuna’s domain, overstimulation, mirror sex
notes: early i did originally plan an entire kinktober but lol (18+ banner/divider made by @/cafekitsune. repost from my first ever kinktober 🥂
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“SUKUNA, SUKUNA, SUKUNA.” Call it childish for believing in such tales. But you wanted it to be true. Looking in the darkly lit bathroom of your dorm bathroom you groaned, blowing the candle out. You flipped the light switch back on.
You’d been hearing about it all year. But you should’ve known better than to believe a silly little legend like this. But you were a blushing and bubbling mess of a virgin. So hearing of some mysterious sexy man who fucks virgins with no strings attached seemed too good to be true and you just had to test this theory. But really you should’ve known better. You were too old to believe in such things but you were all dolled up just for him.
You’d been waiting until everyone on your floor was gone and you put on your best and sexiest lingerie. You weren’t expecting to wear this for such a man that everyone has described but you were ready. You were thinking maybe for a boy who’s eventually won your heart you’d wear this to give yourself away.
Your hair was down in a medium length silk press, wearing puffy pink ugg slides and a short pink fuzzy nightgown that hugged every inch of your body, amplifying your busty breast all for show. You even went with no panties.
All for him.
All for a no show.
Sighing, you reached for your shower caddy and got prepared to wrap your hair.
But a deep chuckle from behind, startled you. Every fiber in your being was begging you not to turn around. Your stomach clutching with a sense of fear and your mouth running dry.
“Little human.” His voice alone had you shaking but surprisingly it wasn’t all just fear, something else deep inside, something not so pure filled your body. Lust. You were still too afraid to look at him, your knees growing weak as he continued to speak.
“Too scared to turn around but all dolled up just for me. I can practically smell your sweet nectar from here.” He purred, his breath on your neck and you could feel the warmth of his body heat all over you. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” Taking his tongue, he licked up your ear before biting your lobe. “I could smell how sweet you are even before I got here. I couldn’t believe how delectable you smelled.” With hard hands, he softly grasped both of your breasts.
You released a small yelp with such surprise but your tummy fluttered. “Oh, my little human likes that…” He took note, pressed hot kisses against your neck. Squeezing your breast. With rough hands he stroked your nipples until they grew hard.
You were letting him have his way with you and you still hadn’t even seen his face. You moaned when you felt the soft drag of his claws, tugging at your gown.
“Tell me how badly you like my touch female…or I might just stop.” He pressed his hips into yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he was. “Don’t you want my cocks?” His voice was laced with something unfamiliar, he pressed his nose in your hair and did a quick inhale.
Desire pooled in your belly whenever he talked. “C-cocks?” You squealed. “I… I don’t think I can handle such a thing…” You muttered, trying to move away from him, keeping your eyes trained on your feet.
“Look at me.” He gripped your jaw in his fingers and forced your eyes to the mirror. Your pussy clenched against nothing when you saw his face. He was truly a beautiful demonic man. With sharp teeth and dark eyes that ate up your entire figure. There was colorful dark markings over his face and a sickening grin on his lips when he noticed you staring so hard. His spiked pink hair looked so soft that you wanted to pet him. “You desire is all in the air,” His told you. “Let me please you, my little human.”
“W-wait! I-um…” Your voice was hoarse and completely choked out as you stuttered, trying to find any excuse.
“You wish to deny me this?” He palmed your pussy. Dragging his hand all over the mound before trailing lower. “You are truly ravishing… in all these places.” You we’re panting and hanging on to every word he spoke, opening your thighs wider so he can feel you.
“Tell me…beg me…” His hand ran down lower, inching closer and closer towards your puffy clit.
Then he pulled away.
It was awful and your body felt cold, you even almost tripped over yourself, to which he chuckled. “Why did you st—”
Pressing his hot lips to yours he kissed you, squeezing your ass and adding his tongue. His tongue was sucking and sliding in every inch of your mouth, you could barely breathe. It felt so long and so deep, almost like he was in your throat. “I want you to beg me for my touch, I know you want it… so beg for it, or you won’t get it.” He said as he pulled away, drool on the corner of his mouth.
“Please…touch…me…” You forced the words he wanted to hear out. “I want your fingers, your tongue, your…cocks.” You whimpered a deep pout on your lips. He smiled at your honesty and he clipped your lingerie down with his claws in one swift motion.
His thumb caressed your folds softly and he groaned watching the wetness drip to the floor. Slipping one finger inside, you gasped, holding on to his wrist and grinding down a bit. Loud squelching noises filling the air every time he pushed in a bit deeper. “Tight little thing. All for me.” He dropped to his knees and licked his lips once he spread your folds open.
“Pretty little pearl.” He rasped before taking it in his mouth. Your hips buckled and thrashed against his face, your moans echoing and bouncing off the walls. He added another finger, hard. Slamming them both inside of you, stretching you wide. So much cream and slick ran down your thighs, he pumped faster inside of you.
Both of his cocks were leaking and aching but all he could think about was your pussy and just how good it taste. He groaned with his eyes closed, spreading his fingers inside as you sobbed above him.
“Please, please…” He didn’t know what you were begging for. He sucked, putting his entire mouth on you, licking up and down your sensitive clit. He pressed deep kisses before removing his fingers from your insides. He dipped his tongue deep inside of your tightness and he felt you tighten up, fisting your hand in his hair, rocking your hips.
“Sukuna!” Your eyes were filled with tears as he moaned for more of your virgin taste on his tongue. Hearing his name on your tongue had him throbbing but he resisted touching himself — wanting only to come in your tight pure virgin body.
“I’m going to— ah.” Your body snapped and shook but he continued to feast on your insides, his long tongue hitting all your sensitive spots and every muscle, you came around his tongue and he welcomed everything you gave him. Your walls fluttered against his tongue and your hands grabbed even deeper into his hair, toes curling and small sniffles filling the room.
He placed his tongue back to your sore clit and gave it a few more sucks before he smirked up at you, the pretty noises still in your throat as you tried your hardest to be quiet. Looking up at you with such desire that you felt yourself shrinking. “I was waiting so long for you…” He told you, standing to his full height. “Don’t know if I can let you go this time…”
You didn’t understand. You were still reeling down from such an orgasm. He inhaled against your neck. “Pretty little human. I’m not going to let you out of my sight. Too precious.” He took your lips again and you closed your eyes deeply, gripping his arm as you tasting yourself on his tongue.
When you finally pulled back and opened your eyes, you didn’t know where you were. All darkness surrounded you, dimly lit candles and a beautifully made canopy bed with dark sheets. You could see some sort of throne in the other part of this dark place, which took up almost the entirety of that space. The room seemed to go on forever, almost endless. You felt empty, he wasn’t there anymore. Confusion bled through your mind until you felt him take your hand, dragging you to the bed.
“What did you mean… with what you said moments ago?” You swallowed, trying not to look him in the eyes. But those deep red eyes made it almost too hard to do that. He stared you down before pushing you down to the bed.
“It means you’re mine. All mine.” His hot tongue trailed down your neck and it burned you, your weak legs thrusting against him. He lowered his hips flush against yours and you could feel just how big and thick his cocks were, it was almost disgusting how badly you wanted them. He sniffed and did a devilish grin at you. “Why fight it? You called me here. I have you. Don’t tell me you’re still scared… I won’t hurt you.” He promised.
The way his eyes held such sincerity you couldn’t look away. The flimsy material he wore, slipped off and you got a glimpse of everything he was hiding from you. The rippling abs and those dark marks similar to the ones on his face, you could feel yourself leaking when your eyes drifted to the pretty cocks he possessed.
Throbbing and veiny. Angry red tips coded in leaking creamy pre-cum. You didn’t mean to but you licked your lips and he groaned in your ear: “Female, it looks like you want to taste my cocks…” More pre-cum dripped down and you were panting at the sight, something coming over you. With a trembling hand, you reached out between you both and gripped the base of one, he twitched in your hand but you didn’t stop your assault.
He was thick. You couldn’t imagine doing this to both of his cocks at the same time, you needed both of your hands just to cover just one of them. He thrusted his hips upward, sliding himself through your hands with strained moments. He didn’t want to cum, only wanted it to be inside of you but fuck, this was heaven.
You stroked him, nice and slow. Feeling every bit of him and keeping your clouded eyes on his, both of your breathings harsh and in sync, hot and turned on. Rubbing your thumb on the tip, you watched as a bit more liquid leaked out, slipping between your hands.
“Knees. Now.” He rasped, he needed to be in your tight little mouth now. He needed it. You barley had time to move before he was thrusting himself inside of your mouth. “Fuck…ing, pretty little mouth.” He muttered, thrusting his hips harshly in and out of your mouth. His other cock begging for attention, you squeezed it hard and be released a beautiful moan continuing his rhythm.
Swallowing around him, he bellowed. “Fuck!” He had manners and didn’t want to mess up his female’s hair but he wanted you to take him deeper into your mouth. Pulling you slightly by your hair, he buried himself deeper into your mouth. Bucking his hips, you slid your mouth up and down — saliva covering his length — then you lapped at the tip, rubbing your mouth on it before slipping him back into your throat. Moaning around his cock, then you decided to switch to his other cock.
He was amazed and his toes were curling, watching you. He could see just how much of him was buried in your throat. He could hear the amount of sucking and slurping and you still had time to fondle his balls.
He was going to cum. He could feel it in the pits of his belly. Sweet moans leaving your mouth and he couldn’t take it anymore. With a deep groan, he pulled you flush to his hips and came deep inside of your mouth, his other cock jerking and spasming — raining cum on your face.
He looked at your cum splattered face and his cocks grew hard again and he knew the perfect way to end the night. “Need to be inside of you, now.” He didn’t want anything to stop him. He didn’t clean you off or anything, he wanted to fuck you as filthy and dirty as you looked.
And he would.
He pulled down your panties and looked at your leaking cunt. Smiling in delight, “All this just from sucking my cocks…naughty girl.” He lined up both of his cocks to your small hole.
“Both of them?!” You squealed with wide eyes. “They can’t both fit…” You swallowed hard and he did a roar of heavy laughter.
“Gonna just stretch you out with this one,” He rubbed his throbbing tip along your slippery glistening folds as you cried out. “Then once you’re all full, gonna add my other cock and make you cum all night, my little human.”
He lined himself back against your tight heat, almost slipping inside, he eyed your face before he thrusted forward and buried himself inside of your virgin flesh. Your nails were digging into him as you screamed, it hurt bad.
He was so massive inside of you and your walls wouldn’t let him go, clinging to him. “So damn tight.” He groaned, his hips snapped and with each thrust he was able to get deeper and deeper.
He couldn’t bare to look at you, hearing your small sniffles was hard enough. He wanted this pleasurable for you. His fingers were fast on their way to your little clit that was already throbbing for his attention, he pressed two of them against you and felt you roll your hips against his with a sharp moan, “Ah!”
He did a few sloppy thrust, his balls hitting the cusp of your ass and he could tell that you were feeling good based off how you were reacting. “Please make me cum.” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Now with a newer angle he pressed deep into a gooey wetness that had your tongue out and you squeezing his cock even better than before.
He slammed his cock inside of you, now going at any intense speed. Rocking his hips into yours, trying to hit your sweet spot again. He pressed deeper inside of you, bottoming out. “Say my name.” He told you, softly against your lips before claiming them. His thrust going hard and reckless, stretching you out.
You felt so full, he reached down and jerked his other cock. Squeezing the tip and continuing to thrust faster, rocking the bed. “Say my name.” He said again, his hips slamming down on yours. He felt heavy inside of you and you couldn’t focus on him, drowning in a warmth of endless pleasure.
He bucked his hips and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up — to look into the mirror above you, watching yourself getting fucked before saying again: “Say my name.” This time annoyed and with a growl.
“Sukuna!” He pumped his cock inside of your little pussy, stretching it just for him and thrusting more — the hold your cunt had on his cock made him bite his lip when he withdrew himself slightly before slamming back inside.
Your eyes roll back when his tip hits your special spot again and your moans has him in a chokehold, “Sukuna, right there, please… again.” You arch your back and he grips your waist, pushing you back down into the mattress.
With a last long thrust, he fills your cervix with creamy cum that leaks out of you. His other cock bobbling before spraying you down as well, you clench around him for the final time and almost breathlessly you say his name again.
Body weak and your eyes fluttering. He pulls you closer to him and kisses your lips.
“My little human stuffed with my cum.” He purrs, wrapping a strong arm around you and you say something that he can’t hear as you drift and drift…
And drift to sleep.
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eternityofend · 1 month
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SAVE THE COW
MILK THE MILKMAN.
Pairing: F!Reader x Francis Mosses. (18+)
[ TW ] MINORS DNI 18+
NSFW, Overstimulation, Whimpering, Slight praise kink, Unprotected sex, Riding, Submissive Francis, Dominant Reader, Porn with no Plot, Blowjob, Biting, Kissing/Making out, Aftercare.
A/N: This is my first time writing smut, I apologize if it isn't that good.
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"Mmm..."
You coo, caressing Francis's face as you kissed him on the nose. How adorable he was for a man who didn't care much for others, merely focusing on his work instead of interacting with others.
You felt special, considering you were the only one he opened up to, the only one he'd talk to without shying away.
But it was only right.
You let out a ghost of a smile as you continue caressing Francis's cheeks with your hands, kissing his neck lightly as you felt him tremble by your touch. Every touch of your lips on his skin sent him vocally expressing just how truly sensitive he was, gripping onto the fabric of your clothes as Francis threw his head back, face redder than scarlet milk.
Francis breathes out heavily, his hand going behind your head to grip onto your hair as you continue to litter kisses on his neck without end.
"[Name]-"
Poor Francis, barely even able to speak out more than one word before suddenly releasing a high pitched moan, gripping tighter on your hair as he was caught by surprise by the bite you left on his neck.
Francis's entire body trembles, but he doesn't tell you to stop.
You lick your lips, leaning your head up as you took Francis's chin in your hand and made him face towards you.
He looks like a puppy because of his teary expression and red cheeks. You sigh, how adorable can this man get?
You take his lips into yours, slipping your arm behind his waist as you hum in content, kissing him with vigorous passion that you knew would make him struggle to get air after.
Francis whines, trying to kiss you back with the same passion you were giving him but the best he could do was open his mouth and let you take control, leaning back on the bed he was on.
"Francis.." You mutter his name, breaking the kiss as he panted, his lungs fighting to get air after making out with you for a minute straight.
Your fingers cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, staring at you in the eyes while panting quietly. You smile, pushing him on the chest, forcing him to lay down on the bed as you crawl on top of him.
"I'll take good care of you." You whisper into his ear, your hand already unbuckling his belt and zipping down his pants.
"[Name].. please-" Francis mutters something with a rasp tone in his voice, gazing at you with such doe eyes that activates a bottomless pit of hunger, of lust, in you.
You pull down the last barrier that covered his dick, your eyes swirling in lust as it leaked pre-cum, the tip flushing a light flustered pink, sensitive to your touch.
"Relax, I'll make you feel good tonight, okay?" You whisper in a gentle tone, already rubbing his dick up and down with your hand, eager to make him orgasm within 5 minutes.
You wanted to break him, hear him scream out your name when he cums.
He was simply just so adorable.
Your pace increases, and you feel the slightest twitch of Francis's dick in your hand as he suddenly whimpers, moaning out words for you to slow down.
"Wait- Wait- Mmmm.. [Name] please- go slow!-" Francis chokes on his words as you did the complete opposite of what he wanted, throwing his head back, his hips thrusted up to match your pace. His eyes rolling back, as the only thing that came out of his mouth were broken moans.
"Haa.. Ha-" Francis grips onto the sheets, letting out a chorus of "Ah, Ah, Haa~" completely letting you know he felt good.
You exhaled, trying to control yourself as you felt yourself get even more aroused just by listening to how lewd his sounds were.
"Shit, fuck.. you drive me crazy." You groan, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, biting on his skin; pumping even faster.
Faster.
More.
You needed to hear more of him.
"Fuck- Cum for me, Francis." You utter, feeling his dick twitch and convulse at your words. Just a second after, you immediately felt warm and sticky cum dropping on your hand as Francis let out a loud moan of your name.
Your eyes blurred with arousal, wanting to break him more.
"[Name].." Francis whispers out, but you shush him before he could say anything else.
You smile, getting on top of him as you pull down your pants. Rubbing your pussy on the tip of his dick as you used his cum to lubricate your insides.
Francis just stares at you, panting. His hand on your back, but he was mostly curious on what you were doing.
"I can help you.. if you wan-" Francis's eyes widen, letting out a sudden moan that cut off his sentence as he felt his dick enter your warm and wet pussy. He gripped hard on your hips, whining in pleasure as he felt your walls tighten even more around his cock.
Francis wasn't even fully in yet but he already felt like cumming again.
"[Name]. [Name]. [Name]. Fuck- fuck.. you feel so good, sugar.." Francis whines, thrusting his whole length inside of you. Moaning in the process of doing so, almost cumming when he felt your pussy clench so hard on his dick.
You pant, wrapping your hands around Francis's neck. Letting yourself rest for a while before raising your hips and dropping down on his dick.
"I'm gonna milk you dry.. Mr. Milkman."
Francis groans at the name, his dick twitching as he imagined you taking every single drop of his seed, he imagined filling you up to the brim.
You ride on Francis's dick at a fast pace, wet slapping echoing throughout the room as skin met skin.
Francis moans, changing his hold to grip onto your ass, his head burying into your neck while you bounced on his cock.
"Sugar.. you're taking me so well." Francis mutters softly, completely in bliss by how good your pussy felt.
You moan, your pussy clenching at his words. Despite him being the bottom this time, he still had a way of making you feel like you were the one being submissive.
A frustrating feeling grows in your stomach, wanting to show Francis that you were supposed to be the dominant one.
You clenched tighter on his dick, increasing your pace as you made sure he completely felt every inch of his dick get swallowed by your pussy.
Francis mutters something under his breath, completely lost in pleasure as he moaned in ecstasy, cumming in you for the second time.
You pant, continuing to ride Francis even if he already orgasmed, you wanted to show him that you were more than capable enough of giving both you and him pleasure.
"Sugar, wait- agh- haa~ slow down.." Francis tapped on your hip, grunting and moaning as he felt your tightness.
You moaned, leaning backwards as you rode Francis as if he was a mechanical bull for you to conquer.
Just a few seconds after, you feel Francis cum another time, whining and whimpering, begging you to stop.
"A little more.." You say, panting. Ignoring the feeling building up in your stomach as you tried to at least make Francis reach another orgasm before you finish.
"Sugar- God, if you don't stop- Ngh~" Francis's voice crumbles, his tone deep but filled with cracks as it was raspy and tired.
"More.."
You feel yourself almost cumming, and you moan. Throwing your head into Francis's neck as you slammed yourself down on him and bit down on his neck.
Francis pulls on your hair, gasping in surprise as he felt your body shake above him, his cock does the same, twitching and pulsing because of how intense you were clenching down on him.
"You're going to kill me one day, Sugar." Francis mumbles, running his hands through your hair as he grabbed a strand and kissed it.
You whine, still not getting off his cock, your body too tired to even move.
"I just missed you.. you've been gone for so long because of work, and you look like you haven't even gotten enough sleep." You complain, caressing his face as you leaned on his shoulder.
The tips of Francis's lips turn upwards, a soft yet baffled chuckle escaping from his mouth.
"Mmmm.. I didn't realize you missed me that much, you should've told me, Sugar.. I would've come home immediately." Francis places a kiss on your forehead, lifting you off his cock as cum dripped from your pussy to his thighs.
Francis puts two fingers inside your pussy, scooping a load of your cum before putting it in his mouth.
A satisfied expression appears on his face as he swallows, pecking you on the lips before saying something that makes you mumble in embarrassment.
"Much better than milk." Francis laughs out, kissing you on the lips with complete gentleness.
"Now let's get you cleaned up.."
You hum, gripping onto him tightly as he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom.
Let's just say, you both did much more than just clean yourselves up in the bathroom.
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wintaerbaer · 2 months
Text
bottle up old love (jjk) (m)
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summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader
rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff
word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)
prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)
warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol
MASTERLIST
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“Don’t fucking touch me!”
You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.
“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”
“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.
“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”
The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”
“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.
“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.
There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.
“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.
And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.
Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”
Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”
Then he spins and takes off running down the street.
Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.
“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.
He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”
“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”
“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”
“So I should be worried about you then?”
He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”
You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.
It’s how he broke up with you after all.
You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.
“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”
But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”
“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”
Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.
Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.
“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”
And you close the door in his face.
The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.
You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).
The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.
Or so you think.
After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.
And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.
Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.
Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.
“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.
“He might come back.”
“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”
He shrugs. “If I have to.”
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”
He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”
You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”
“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”
If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”
Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.
Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.
“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.
There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.
Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.
You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.
“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.
You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.
“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.” 
It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.
Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.
“I’m sorry.”
Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.
“What?”
He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”
You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.
“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”
Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”
“Yes.”
He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.
“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.
“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”
This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.
“So then why?”
He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.
The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.
“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”
It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.
Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.
“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”
You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”
Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”
His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”
“No, shit.”
“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”
The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.
“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”
His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.
So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”
His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.
“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”
He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”
And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.
You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.
Speaking of.
The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.
“Beautiful,” you whisper.
“Just like you.”
You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.
“You left.”
“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”
“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”
“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”
And it’s all you need to hear.
You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso. 
“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.
You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.
But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”
Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes
“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.
“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”
A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.
“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.
You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”
“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.
Like you said. Insane.
He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.
“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”
He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.
“Fuck, me neither.”
You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.
“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.
“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.
So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.
“You?”
It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?
You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”
This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”
A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.
“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”
“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.
“Ride me, baby.”
You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.
“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”
You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.
He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.
You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.
“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.
Hard.
You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.
It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.
The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.
“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.
“I missed you.”
You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”
He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”
“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”
A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”
“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.
“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”
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a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3
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4K notes · View notes
yuujispinkhair · 3 months
Note
okay questionable thoughts… Hybrid Tiger Sukuna… But… what if we gave him catnip? Cus I’ve seen videos of it working on tigers and I’m a bit cray cray-
Oh nooo!!! This drives me all kinds of FERAL!! I wrote the following in a horny daze lmaoo. I would give so much to be Tiger Hybrid Sukuna's owner who gets that gorgeous tiger-cock ;) Thank you so much for sending me this!!
Tiger Hybrid!Sukuna x Reader (female). 18+, smut, rough sex, creampie, mentions of breeding + risk of pregnancy if reader gives Sukuna more catnip in the future, dubcon on both sides, drugs. Minors don't interact. Divider @/hitobaby
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++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who is usually so in control, acting all aloof and majestic. But you give him catnip, and he loses all that control. You thought it would be cute to see him loosen up and become more playful, but you didn't expect him to become so wild.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who tackles you to the floor with a needy growl. Who presses you down with his heavy body, his large tail swishing from side to side excitedly, his pupils blown wide, his hot spit dripping down onto your neck. And his large bulge growing hard against your ass.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who loses his ability to talk in the state he is in now and just growls and purrs while he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent deeply, his lips and tongue and sharp canines leaving their marks on your skin while he ruts against you, needy like never before.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who scares you a bit when he goes crazy like that. This big, strong half-tiger, with those strong muscles and the sharp teeth and claws. And with that huge, strong cock. But your fear mixes with arousal, and you find yourself hoping your tiger will claim you thoroughly tonight.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who isn't even in the right mind to undress you but just tears at his and your clothes, ripping them to shreds in his primal need to mount you.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who pushes his hot, fat cock between your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal, grunting and growling wildly against your neck while he ruts his throbbing tiger-cock against your heated cunt.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who bites your neck when he pushes his leaking cock into your dripping cunt, groaning loudly against your skin, instantly starting a punishing rough pace of fucking you. Mounting you so wild and hard right there on the floor.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who is so sexy like that, out of control, wild and feral like never before. More animal than man. Who snaps his hips fast and erratically, purely driven by his animal instinct to fuck and breed and fill a mate with his potent seed.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who holds you down and keeps his teeth on your neck while he fucks all his tiger-cum deep into you. Growling loudly while he mates you as if you are his fertile tigress.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who makes you lose control, too, pushing your ass needily against him, wanting all his hot seed and the feel of his heavy balls slapping against you. Making you squeal loudly when you cum all over his fat tiger-cock.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who pulls out of you with a low groan and then kneels on the floor behind you with a blissed-out expression on his beautiful face, not as feral anymore but still high on the catnip. His gorgeous cock softening but still glistening with your creamy juices and his milky seed, his dark pink tip still swollen.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, whose whole muscular body trembles lightly as the effects of the catnip wear off. Whose long, pretty tail is twitching suddenly when those glowing red eyes bore into yours with a dangerous glint in them.
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who growls at you, "Never do that again!" And when you ask him why, he glares at you and is like, "Because who knows what I'll do next time. Maybe I'll breed you until you have my cubs."
++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who calms down again when you tell him you are ok, and he didn't hurt you. Who finally purrs when you scratch him behind his ears and at the base of his pretty tiger tail and promise him that you won't give him catnip ever again, even though you quite enjoyed his wild side.
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joelscurls · 5 months
Text
best kept secret
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pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 6.7k
summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3
Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.
It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.
You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.
He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.
“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”
They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 
Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 
Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.
Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.
But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.
Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.
“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.
With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  
He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.
You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.
Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 
For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 
It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 
That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.
He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.
But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.
“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 
“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 
Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”
The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.
Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.
“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.
“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”
He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.
“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 
You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.
“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.
“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”
Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 
“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 
You slink home just as the street lights dim.
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The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.
You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.
You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.
The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.
By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 
Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.
God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.
“Hey.”
“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.
“Something on your mind?”
Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.
“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”
He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”
It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.
You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.
The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-
-there’s a knock at the door.
Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?
And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.
“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.
Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.
The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.
He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 
No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.
You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 
Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.
His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.
“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”
He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?
“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.
“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 
His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.
And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 
You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.
Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 
Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.
Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”
Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 
“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 
There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 
This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.
But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 
You shake your head, no. 
“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”
“When I was ten?” you retort. 
“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”
You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”
“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.
“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  
“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.
“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 
Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”
You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 
I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.
Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.
Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.
“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”
“Will you just give her a chance?”
“Jesus; fine.”
The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.
Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.
He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 
“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 
“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”
Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 
He’s actually agreeing to this?
You need to get out of here before you say something rash.
The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 
Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.
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The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 
The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.
It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.
The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.
Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 
They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.
Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.
The day passes infuriatingly slow.
The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.
“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.
“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”
“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”
“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.
You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.
He picks up after two rings.
“Darlin’ — are you okay?”
It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.
But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.
“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 
“Why didn’t you say no?” 
“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”
He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”
“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“
You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.
“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”
Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.
It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.
Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 
“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”
He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.
The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.
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You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.
There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.
Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.
He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.
So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.
But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 
It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.
On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.
“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”
You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.
“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 
“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”
“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.
“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“
“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”
It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.
Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.
Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 
Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 
Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 
You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.
This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.
You jot the address down anyway.
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Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 
Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 
At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 
That’s not what you’re doing, of course.
No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.
It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 
You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?
You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.
From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.
Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.
And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.
Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.
But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 
She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.
She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.
You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.
But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 
He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 
Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 
She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.
You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.
And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.
He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.
Fuck.
He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.
With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 
He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 
The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.
“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.
You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?
When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.
“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”
“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”
This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.
“It wasn’t like that,” he grits
“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”
There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 
“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”
His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” you admit.
He nods. Another beat.
“Did you kiss her?” you ask.
“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 
Your mouth goes dry.
“No?”
“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t want to.”
“You don’t want her?” 
“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 
“Why not?” 
He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.
“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 
The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.
“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”
Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.
It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.
Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 
And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 
Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.
“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 
He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 
“Need you — please.”
He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 
Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.
“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.
Your breath catches. 
You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?
But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.
You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”
Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.
“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 
He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.
He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.
You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”
His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 
You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.
“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.
“Gotta move baby — please move.”
He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.
Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.
Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 
It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.
One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 
Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.
“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“
“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”
His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.
His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.
“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”
He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.
You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.
You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.
Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.
“Joel,” you say.
He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.
“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.
“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”
And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”
“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”
You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.
You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.
Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 
You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.
“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”
He looks at you like you have two heads.
He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.
Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.
“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”
Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.
“I’m yours?”
He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 
It all feels somehow sweeter, now.
“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”
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end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.
Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)
tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673
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cherienymphe · 5 months
Text
Everybody Knows That I'm A Good Girl, Officer (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
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WARNINGS: Dub-Con, power imbalance, abuse of power, degradation, manipulation, slight stalking, choking, semi public sex, mentions of cockwarming, mentions of gun kink, dom/sub elements, free use elements, jealousy
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies
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summary: ...and everybody knows. Everybody knows...that he fucks you.
~
You didn’t know a thing about Coriolanus Snow.
Not until he quite literally cornered you in the meadow one day.
Peacekeepers came and went, especially in District 12, so you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any new face that appeared on the streets of your district in those blue uniforms. In truth, you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any of their faces. They all perfectly blended together into one faceless being that was merely a puppet of The Capitol, anyway.
However, standing in front Coriolanus Snow, you wondered how you missed him. Not because he was handsome—and he was—but because there was a hard glint to his blue gaze that told you he wasn’t the average capitol dog. Gun tight in his hand at his side, he stared at you like he wasn’t at all surprised to find you there.
He wasn’t.
You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to watch you, silent footsteps shadowing yours as he wondered what you were up to when you crossed the district line. He liked to watch you pick flowers and write underneath a tree and bring back the occasional caught animal for your ma and pa. He watched you play with the children in your district and help that old neighbor with her window…and steal food on occasions when your family couldn’t afford it.
“You could get into a lot of trouble for that.”
His tone was even and strong, but something about it told you that he didn’t want you to get in trouble for that.
“I know,” you told him, jutting out your chin as if challenging him to do something about it.
You said nothing, merely pressing your back to the tree when he moved closer, the gentle breeze ruffling the tall grass around his feet. You said nothing when he stood so close that you could smell him, wondering to yourself what a peacekeeper could possibly have access to that would make him smell so good. You even remained quiet when his free hand reached for yours, the softness of it shocking you, a sharp inhale when he turned your hand over.
Your palm was lightly stained from the bird you’d killed.
You curiously eyed him, a slight frown between your brows as he studied the skin. You drank in his prominent nose, full lips, and those unsettling blue eyes. Staring at them for too long actually made you uneasy, and when his gaze lifted to meet yours, you couldn’t look away fast enough. It only then occurred to you that you were out in the woods alone…with a peacekeeper who could do absolutely anything he wanted to you.
His next words surprised you.
“If someone other than me were to catch you…I can’t imagine what they’d do to you,” he murmured, making your frown deepen. “So, I would advise you to stop.”
By the way the corner of his mouth twitched, you knew that your shock and confusion was all over your face. When he dropped your hand, he pointed his gun at your catch of the day in a gesture for you to get your things, waiting for you to grab your dinner and your book.
You thought that he was letting you off the hook.
You thought wrong.
You learned that Coriolanus Snow was not a good man.
“Your daughter dropped these, ma’am, and I knew she’d kick herself if I didn’t bring these home.”
That smile on his pink lips was perfect, blue eyes twinkling when your mother thanked him profusely for bringing home your groceries—groceries you both knew you didn’t buy. When your eyes met his over her shoulder, that charming smile didn’t move an inch, and the longer he stared at you, the more uncomfortable you felt.
“Thank you,” you told him the next day, seeking him out.
He wasn’t technically on duty, and you found your gaze lingering on the dog tag around his neck. However, you found your gaze lingering on his face instead when he took a step closer, gaze unreadable.
“Anytime.”
It was a strange thing to say about bringing you food that you didn’t buy, and when he took another step towards you, your face pinched ever so slightly. You were all too aware of your close proximity, and when you felt his chest lightly brush against yours, your lips parted in realization. The moment it clicked had your blood running both hot and cold, uneasy and conflicted.
As you stared at each other, there seemed to be a lot of unspoken words between you, Coriolanus with one hand on the wall and you with one hand fidgeting with your shirt. You looked between his eyes, looking for some hint of hesitation, some evidence that deep down this wasn’t something he actually wanted to do…but there was none. There was a resolve in his gaze that felt all too familiar. It was the same determination you were sure was in your gaze anytime you swiped food for your household.
The same determination when your desperation won.
You took a deep shuddery breath.
“Anytime…?” you wondered, keeping your eyes on him.
Something in his face relaxed, evening out as he completely crowded you, now.
“Anytime.”
When his lips met yours, you didn’t exactly know what to do, feeling both unsure and sure at the same time. You were sure that you wanted to live comfortably and not have to wonder how you’d get your next meal, but you were so unsure of how this would end and what this would mean for you. You wouldn’t be the first girl to give herself to a peacekeeper or the mayor or whoever else she needed to just to ease the weight in her chest.
Coriolanus kissed you like he was the hungry one, lips moving against yours in a way that left you breathless. His hand wouldn’t stop kneading into your waist through your shirt, and his other found a home on your face, thumb brushing over your skin and tilting your head back. The only thing to pull you apart was a noise coming from inside the building you were pressed against, and when the blond man told you to hurry home, you did.
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You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked obedience.
He wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed repeating himself, and you learned that quickly, so now when he told you to get on your knees, you didn’t hesitate. When he told you to open your mouth, you did, and when he practically begged you to look up at him, you did. Coriolanus would never beg, he would never do that, but it was evident in the way his voice strained—the way the words left him breathlessly.
Or maybe that was because you had your lips around his cock.
With a hand in your hair and a hand on your chin, he gently guided you to take him into your throat again and again. You were no virgin, but there were still a lot of firsts to be had for you, and sliding your tongue over the tip of him was one of them. The feel of his fingers massaging your scalp soothed you, made this less nerve-wracking, and to your surprise, it even stroked a slowly burning fire between your legs.
There was such a stark contrast between the gentle touch of his fingers in your hair and the harsh hold of his hand on your chin. It wasn’t the easiest to take all of him into your mouth, and you couldn’t swallow down the noise that escaped when he hit the back of your throat. His smooth baritone reached your ears when he gently shushed you, softly telling you to use your hands.
“Wrap them around me,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet room.
Coriolanus liked obedience…so you did.
Your hand slid along his length in time with your lips, twisting around his cock, an easy task with the help of the mess you were making. He didn’t seem to mind though, only groaning above you, and when you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, you took in the way his head was thrown back, the skin of his throat straining and bobbing as he swallowed.
When he lowered his head, you started to look away, but the tightening of his hand in your hair told you not to. You kept your eyes on his as best as you could, sucking your cheeks in and flattening your tongue against the side of his cock. Every bob of your head made him shudder, and you dropped your hand when his hands came to rest on both sides of your head.
Remaining still for the man standing over you, you kept your mouth open as he slowly began to push his hips forward. With every surge of them, his cock dipped into your waiting lips, sliding over your tongue and against the inside of your cheeks. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks as he lost himself in his movements, blue eyes gazing down at you as he filled your mouth.
You didn’t know why—couldn’t understand it—but something about his outright use of your body and your lips had you squeezing your thighs together. It made heat settle in the pit of your stomach, twisting and burning violently until your not-so-subtle movements became noticed by him. In between his uneven breathing, a soft chuckle reached your ears.
“You’ll get your turn.”
…and he was a man of his word.
With the taste of him still on your tongue, Coriolanus had one forearm completely pinning your hips to the bed as he pressed his face between your thighs. Another first ripped away from you, wide gaze on the ceiling as you fought to keep from squirming. The feel of his tongue inside of you was jarring, and you couldn’t stop your toes from curling at the warm feel of it quite literally lapping at you.
Your hands came down to rest on his short blond hair, hips attempting to lift from the mattress, chest arching upwards towards the ceiling. When he hummed between your legs, you felt it all over, and you couldn’t stop the moans that climbed out of your throat. With him holding you down, the only appropriate thing to do was claw at whatever you could, turning your head from side to side.
It wasn’t enough for you to come into his mouth once. Coriolanus needed to know that he was the best you’d ever get, and even when you were out of breath and exhausted and overstimulated, he didn’t let your thighs go, only using them to drag you closer as he knelt between them. His perfect teeth winked at you when he leaned in to kiss you.
If your ma and pa wondered what kind of job you lucked out with to afford all of the food and clothes you started to bring home, they didn’t ask. Although, something in you suspected that they had an inkling of just what you had to do to bring home the freshest bread and the warmest clothes they’d ever had. You started to suspect that everyone did.
Coriolanus wasn’t exactly the most discreet, and you learned that he didn’t intend to be.
On the off chance you crossed paths in the street, he stopped you for all to see, voice lowering as he got really close and asked you how you were. You would feel the eyes of his peacekeeper friends on you as the unspoken questions lingered between you. Did you need more food? Did you need a new dress? You would tell him that you were fine, code for you didn’t need anything at the moment, and he wouldn’t try to hide his perusal of you, those unsettling blue eyes slowly dragging over your frame.
He didn’t seem the kind of asshole to brag about such things, but you weren’t stupid. Even without saying it, he made your arrangement abundantly clear. The way he talked to you, studied you, and ran his fingers over the back of your arm without a care as to who saw. Coriolanus had staked a claim on you, an unspoken display of ownership, and you wrote it off to some sick power trip.
…but you learned that Coriolanus Snow was a very jealous man.
That revelation struck you as odd because you didn’t think anyone would have anything he’d be jealous of, and you certainly didn’t think he’d be jealous over you. You were some average thieving girl whom he exploited the first moment he saw an opportunity to do so. Considering that he was willing to do it to you, you didn’t doubt that he was willing to do it to someone else should he find himself unable to have you anymore. That was what you believed anyway…
Until his fist was ruining the face of some District 12 boy you’d grown up with. You were far from friends, but he’d been a familiar constant in your life for years, and so sharing a drink with him while everyone danced to the live music on stage seemed like nothing at all to you. You didn’t even think there were lines to cross, a sentiment that was quickly corrected.
With one hand curled around your throat—holding you in place—there wasn’t any other option but to take Coriolanus’ thrusts. The sound of guitars and flutes and fiddles bled through the thin walls, everyone quickly moving on from the brief display of violence they’d witnessed. You could still remember the shock on your face as other peacekeepers pulled him off of the unsuspecting man who’d never been anything more than an acquaintance, really.
Your horrified gaze had met that of a familiar blue, and there wasn’t much time to do anything before Coriolanus neared you, reaching for the back of your neck as he walked you away from the crowd. It had been hard to ignore the numerous eyes following your movements, and you wondered now if they quickly moved on from the display because it was nothing or because they were too nervous to get involved with Coriolanus and the girl the whole district knew belonged to him.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out in some back room, your chest pressed to the table.
Your eyes were squeezed shut as he stretched you out, cock pushing into you and throbbing with every push of his hips. You knew that the words wouldn’t change anything, but you felt compelled to say them, anyway. His fingers were tight against your neck, and every time you reached up towards them, he only squeezed tighter. Despite the discomfort, you couldn’t stop your stomach from squeezing, coiling tight as you gripped him.
When he pulled you up so that your back was firm against his, his hold on your neck loosened a bit, and you took a deep inhale. His thumb was pressed to your jaw, and he brought his face down to rest on the other side of your neck where his arm didn’t rest, pressing open mouthed kisses there.
“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” he whispered against your skin.
It was the truth, and at your silence, he squeezed your neck again.
Your nails scraped against the table he fucked you on, upper body straining as he kept you upright and against him, hips lifting to push his cock into you with the kind of thrusts meant to make a point. When his teeth grazed your skin, you shuddered in his hold, and despite the fact that you couldn’t hear his laugh, you felt it deep within his chest.
“He can’t give you what I can…”
You started to tell him that you knew that, but Coriolanus didn’t let you.
“…so, don’t go thinking he can.”
“I wouldn’t…”
Your words died in the air when he pushed you back down, completely pressed against you and pinning you between him and the table.
“Wouldn’t you?” he hummed, his free hand trailing over your visible cheek. “Everybody knows your price.”
The demeaning words made your stomach turn, but the way he curved his hips against you only had you clenching down on him at the insulting insinuation.
“They see the nicer clothes…the better living conditions…and they know why. They know what you did to get that.”
His lips brushed against your skin with every word, and as if it make his point, he reached down between your legs to brush his thumb over you, making you gasp. With the circling of his fingers, you fidgeted beneath him, toes pushed to the absolute tip to get some reprieve and lips parted as you scraped and clawed at the table.
When he came inside of you, something he never did before, he held you down, forcing you to milk his cock until he was completely satisfied. The nice dress he’d gotten sewn for you was ripped, and you reached up to touch it with trembling lips the moment he let you go. He was so determined to get his hands on you the moment the door was shut that you liked to think it was an accident, but the way you were forced to wear the jacket of his uniform as you walked out made you think otherwise.
Even though Coriolanus was nowhere near you once you rejoined the crowd, his presence was still loud and clear. No one needed to be a genius to figure out where you’d been, and as you glanced around, you realized that he was right. The discreet looks and nervousness around you… Everyone knew.
…and you didn’t know how to feel about it.
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You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to have you whenever and wherever he wanted.
Whether it was in his bunk when he should’ve been on duty or in your room during the early hours of the morning when your pa was in the mines and your ma was asleep or between the openness of the trees when you were only amongst the grass and the birds. He didn’t like disobedience, and so, he didn’t like the word no. So, you never uttered it.
Even when you wanted to.
“Good girl,” he purred into your lips when you did as he wanted, reaching down between you and sliding yourself onto his cock.
It was late when he knocked on your door, gently telling your ma to go back to bed when you answered it. You didn’t know if you wanted to see the look on her face when you left with him, afraid of what you’d see. There was a rare stillness about District 12 when you crossed the district line, Coriolanus’ fingers brushing over your neck the entire way.
The only light was from the moon, his soft hands gripping your hips and guiding you over him. His gaze alternated between your face and his lap where you two connected. Occasionally he lifted his own hips, driving his cock up into you and making you gasp. His hands ran up and down your frame, kneading your skin and basking in the thin layer of sweat that clung to you—to both of you.
“Show me how bad you want it,” he’d murmur in the darkness, completely letting you go.
He opted for leaning back on his elbows, his own pink lips parted, blue eyes glinting under the light of the moon as he watched you fuck yourself onto his cock. Your hands pressed against his chest, keeping yourself upright as your lashes fluttered. There was a burn in your hips that ached too good to stop, the sound of you squeezing him and sliding up and down him loud to your ears.
“Make yourself come,” he’d whisper, refusing to touch you as his voice lowered. “Work for it.”
When you finally did tense on top of him, shuddering and pressing your nails into his chest, the blond man wouldn’t hesitate to circle his arm around your waist, flipping you before you could even catch your breath. Back pressed into the grass, he snapped his hips against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the air.
Under the cover of darkness, Coriolanus allowed himself to lose control, holding your throat and pushing into you—taking full advantage of having you at his mercy. He plunged his cock into your walls, praising how wet you were for him and how snugly he fit inside of you.
“Whenever I want,” he told you.
“Whenever you want,” you agreed, nails digging into his back.
When you returned in the early hours of the morning, your ma never acknowledged it. She never acknowledged how the house stayed stocked with food despite you never going to the market. Her only acknowledgement of the clothes sewn for her were quiet ‘thank yous’…but she knew. Everyone knew.
…and it bothered you less and less until it didn’t bother you, at all.
It couldn’t bother you.
…because if it did you would have to say no when Coriolanus wanted you to rest in his lap, cock fitting snugly inside of you as he held you there. You would have to say no when he brought you another dress he had made or the freshest groceries you would’ve never been able to afford. You would have to say no when he asked if you were his good girl, demanding you prove it as he slid his gun between your legs, telling you to remain completely still.
…but you didn’t say no to any of that because it didn’t bother you—because it couldn’t bother you. Even when the discreet looks were hard to ignore or your ma started to ask if you’d be out late or you started to feel cheap and used. You couldn’t let it bother you.
You were his good girl, and that was what he told you when he tied a pretty delicate ribbon around your neck for all to see one evening.
It was soft.
White.
Just like snow.
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peachsayshi · 6 months
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ dirty diaries
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minors / ageless / blank blogs dni - gif by @sleepygetou 💓 (used with permission)
ೃ⁀➷ notes: @sleepygetou im blaming you for this quick drabble
ೃ⁀➷ tags: toji x reader; you convince toji to participate in no nut november; suggestive; mentions of groping; fluff - wc: 539
nov. 1 - 9:22 am
"hold on a second - we aren't allowed to have sex and I can't take care of myself either?!"
you smirk with amusement, scooping another spoonful of creamy ice cream from the tub. you're sitting on the kitchen counter, kicking your legs with intrigue while watching your husband place the last clean dinner dish in the cupboard.
"that's why they call it no nut novemeber," you explain, "you're supposed to be abstaining from sex and any sexual relief. oh, and you can't watch porn. that counts as part of the challenge..."
toji turns on his heel to take a step closer. he presses his body against your legs, dark eyes flickering to the spoon in your hand that you're slowly drawing it to his lips in order to feed him some of your ice cream.
he hums, "and the videos and pictures of you that I have on my phone..." he quips, both hands finding the meat of your thighs as he gives you a gentle squeeze. "does that count too?"
you tap the back of the spoon playfully against his nose, watching him scrunch it like a little kitten in response. "yes, they count..." you lecture, despite your cheeks growing unnervingly hot.
"can I still touch you?"
"you can but...like I said, it can't lead to us having sex or any sexual relief. these same rules will apply to me as well-"
"fuck that," toji scoffs, moving his hands further up until they are resting against your hips.
you stick the spoon back into the ice cream, keeping it place as you use your free hand to trail your finger along his jaw. "why not? you think you're going to lose that easily?"
he pouts; the front of his brows pinching together in annoyance.
if there is one thing about your husband that you know for certain, it's that he won't walk away from a challenge.
"what about kissing?" he grumbles, his cheeks turning pink. "because I'm not starting my day without my good morning kiss..."
you giggle, placing the tub absentmindedly by your side so you can wrap your arms around his neck. "kissing is fine," you sweetly assure him, and follow up by placing a gentle peck on his slightly blushing cheek.
he considers it for a minute before huffing in defeat. "alright, I'll guess give it a go..."
you can't stop smiling over the fact that he looks like a child who just had his favorite toy taken away from him and the expression is far too adorable for you to even handle.
"it'll be an interesting challenge," you prompt, already making bets that the man wouldn't last a week. "I promise I won't push your buttons..."
toji arches his brow, picking up on your playfully condescending tone. the hands against your hips snake their way up underneath his old tee that you're wearing, gliding carefully up along your soft tummy. he holds your gaze, can feel the change in your breath underneath his palms. "looks like we're both in it to win it," he murmurs, the scar at the corner of his uplifting into a sinister grin. he cups your breasts in his hands as he grazes over the buds of your nipples delicately. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior as well then, sweetheart. let's see which one of us caves first."
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stevebabey · 4 months
Text
have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3
Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.
In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.
Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.
She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.
And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.
So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?
The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.
So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.
Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.
Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.
7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.
This was his Friday night plans.
His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—
“Hi.”
Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.
Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.
Holy shit, this dude was hot.
He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.
He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.
“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.
God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?
The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.
Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?
“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.
He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.
The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”
Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.
“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.
“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”
“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.
Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”
Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.
“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”
He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—
“Can I get you two started with anything?”
The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.
“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.
“What? Not a milkshake man?”
Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”
Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”
Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.
“Did you just order for me?”
“Did you just diss milkshakes?”
Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.
“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.
“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”
Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.
“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”
Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.
“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”
Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?
Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.
“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.
The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.
Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.
Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”
Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.
The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.
Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.
"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"
His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.
"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."
Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.
"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."
Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.
Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.
"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."
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moon7jay · 4 months
Text
Taste (l.hs)
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Warnings : cum eating, smut, heeseung is a munch, pure filth
Wc : 2.8k
"Let me push my face between your legs baby, this is torture"
your cheeks flushed red in embarrassment at your boyfriend's incessant whining.
Heeseung had been going at it for days. It started with the both of you making out for the very first time with your tongues and the moment he sucked your tongue into his mouth, he was groaning
"fuck you taste so good, bet you taste even sweeter down there baby" he had whispered, hands caressing your thighs desperately as if wanting to dive in between them right then and there.
You had shied away from his touch back then and refused. Too conscious of yourself. But you didn't have a clue that your boyfriend was going to be so dedicated to his cause cuz it had been literal days and you were hoping he would forget about it but here he was. Begging you to let him taste you, yet again.
You ignored him and continued to make your coffee, hoping he would catch the hint and drop it
"How long do u want me to jerk off to your panties? "
the spoon fell from your hands and clattered in the sink loudly, your mouth gaping wide open at his blunt and vulgar words. You turned around to face him, your ears burning red, mouth floundering for words as you processed the new information.
He watched your flustered form and chuckled, raising an amused eyebrow while he approached you slowly, trapping you against the kitchen counter, his bigger frame covering yours
"What? you think I'm joking? " He asked and you stayed quiet. Too stunned to speak.
It wasn't that you and heeseung hadn't done anything at all in the physical department. If kissing was something then you had done a lot of it. He would grope your chest and sometimes suck on your titties for hours, other times he would suck on your toes, always leaving an uncomfortable feeling between your legs.
That was all tho, that was all you both had done together when it came to intimacy. That's why learning that your boyfriend jerked off to you was something you hadn't thought about even in your wildest dreams.
He leaned his body closer to yours, face inches from your red and flustered one
"Have to lick on them multiple times just to get a speck of your taste baby" He whispered and your face was on fire, the tingling in between your legs making you squirm
"H-heeseung" You whispered, hands coming up to push him away while you looked anywhere but his face, too shy and embarrassed.
He was having none of it tho, big hands coming up to grab your jaw and forcing you to look at him. His eyes were darker than you had ever seen before, the intensity making a shiver run down your spine
"Help a man out yeah? you Just need to open your pretty legs and let me taste that pussy" He groaned
A gasp escaped your lips when you felt him grabbing your hips and hoisting your body up on the counter, settling in between your legs
"wanna tongue fuck you" he panted, running his hands up and down your exposed thighs, your shorts riding up from his rough movements. The way he was groping your body along with his filthy words had your head reeling. Your breath was becoming heavy and you felt wet. You were definitely wet down there. The delicious tingling intensifying in between your legs.
Your small fist hit against his chest once to gain his attention and his eyes were instantly on your face
"w-what if it's not pretty o-or doesn't smell nice" You questioned, finally letting your anxiety out in the open.
Heeseung leaned into you to kiss along your neck making you squirm, a whine building up in your throat at being touched so wontonly
"trust me baby I know you have the prettiest fucking pussy and you smell like fucking heaven, just had my nose buried in your pink lace a few hours ago in the shower" he mumbled and you gasped out loud at his words, trying to push him away
"heeseung what the fuck?? I wore it last night! It was unwashed!"
He grinned and groped your ass, pulling you closer to himself and at the edge of the counter "yeah baby I know, that extra flavor made me cum so fucking hard" He whispered over your lips before pulling you into a dirty kiss. His tongue tasting your hot mouth lewdly.
You felt mortified, suddenly overcome by an embarrassing heat filling up your lower region at his dirty confession and even though you wanted to protest and push him away, the feeling of his hands groping your body so desperately had you giving in
"o-okay just... I don't know what I'm supposed to do? " you confessed, embarassed and shy under his probing gaze.
Instantly he was gathering you up in his arms, bridal style , making you squeal
"what are you doing!"
But it seemed like he had stopped listening after you said okay. The only word that mattered.
It took his long ass legs a few strides to reach your bedroom and throw you onto the bed making you bounce slightly
You watched in awe as he hurriedly took off his pants, palming himself over his boxers, the bulge was big and visible making your mouth water and thighs clench.
"Just lay back and make pretty noises for me while I feast yeah? That's all you gotta do" he groaned, squeezing his bulge a little too tight
"fuck, even the thought of having you in my mouth is getting me so fucking excited" He panted.
The next thing you know, he was climbing on the bed to settle between your legs, parting them harshly, his heavy breaths falling on your inner thighs, hands impatiently tugging on your shorts, pulling them down your smooth legs.
Once they were off, it was just your panties separating his hungry mouth and your pussy. His eyes were hooded as he watched how soaked your core was, how wet and messy it was in anticipation of his tongue.
He ran an inquisitive finger over your slit from above your panties, just to get a feel of you and see how sensitive you really were
You gasped and moaned at his prodding finger touching you through your clothed core, watching how a shit eating grin took over his face upon feeling the height of your desire, his fingers drenched in your juices.
He was instantly pulling back and taking his fingers into his mouth, eyes falling shut and a moan ripping through his chest at your taste, hips bucking on their own. Fuck yeah. He needed to get his tongue down there before he exploded.
The sound of your panties being ripped apart had you squirming and moaning his name, legs falling open in invitation, you were beyond worked up now
His eyes bore into your bare pussy, tongue coming out to lick on his lower lip as he crawled closer to your fuck hole
You were embarassed, the way he was looking at your exposed sex making your ears turn red, what was he thinking?
His eyes flicked from your pussy to your red face a few times and he cursed
"So fucking sexy baby gonna make this pussy cum on my tongue so fucking hard" He growled and dived straight between your legs, his lips capturing your clit, sucking harshly on it
Your legs closed around his head at the sudden sensation and you screamed. It was too much, the stimulation on your sensitive clit was too much but you didn't want him to stop, the feeling of his mouth felt unfamiliar but needed. You needed it.
He groaned , rubbing his tongue over your swollen clit in eight figures, small cries leaving your lips at his desperation, hands coming down to tangle in his hairs, pulling him into you
"oh myy-" You squealed when he was moving down and penetrating your pussy with his tongue, flickering it inside your cunt.
His fingers dug into your thighs to open them further and get deeper into your folds, moving his tongue back and forth, slithering it inside your walls, slurping your juices
You thrashed and moaned, his name falling from your lips like a mantra but nothing could stop him now, his face was squished against your cunt, nose pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing back and forth on it to provide additional stimulation
It was too much, you could feel the familiar knot in your stomach.
You pulled his head closer to your pussy and he moaned, sending vibrations through you, the juices were now leaking at an embarrassing amount from your cunt
"fuck baby give it to me, taste so fucking good wanna taste your fucking cum" he panted pulling away, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he watched the way your back arched upon the intrusion on his long fingers inside your needy core
Your noises were becoming incoherent, eyes droopy and rolling back in your head upon feeling the way his fingers were fucking your pussy
"such a needy fucking cunt, so fucking creamy baby" he groaned and took your clit into his mouth again.
The combined assault of his tongue and fingers pushed you closer to your edge, hips thrusting up into his mouth, unaware of the way Heeseung's hips were grinding into the sheets to find some relief for his weeping cock.
He spit on your pussy and slurped on your juices again, rolling his tongue to mix your juices with his saliva, spread it around your gaping hole and sucking all of the mess back into his mouth, moaning into your folds.
He moved his fingers in and out rapidly, making a scream rip through your chest
"p-please please please"
"Yeah baby? fucking cum on my face let me taste that cum, come on fucking cum" he groaned, eyes fixed on your face and hips rutting against the bed to chase his own high
"Oh my g- Your voice cut into a high pitched pornographic moan as the knot in your stomach snapped and you came all over his mouth and fingers, hips bucking into his eager mouth.
Heeseung dived shamelessly into your juices to slurp and suck in your cum, groaning and rutting faster into the bed, cursing and panting in desire.
You were still riding your high when he was getting up urgently, pulling his boxers down and jerking his cock off on your pussy, his warm cum splattered all over your abused hole
"fuck yeah, shit baby so good" he moaned, his eyes rolling back, emptying his balls on your pussy, rubbing himself raw, letting hot lust and pleasure wash over his body. His face was wet from your pussy juices, the sight being so hot you had to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from moaning.
When both of your breathing calmed down, he looked back at your pussy and groaned at the sight of his cum all over your stomach, hole and thighs.
He was diving down again to collect his cum mixed with your juices on his tongue and crawling up your body to pull you into a messy kiss. Exchanging your bodily fluids and tasting each other's cum lewdly, sucking on each other's tongue, groaning in carnal lust
The combined taste of each other in your mouths was so nasty it was starting to get you both hot again, his hips subtly grinding against your pussy while you wrapped your hands around his neck to pull him further into your mouth, not getting enough of his taste
"M-More" You moaned into his mouth and he cursed, reaching down with his fingers and collecting more of the splattered cum on your stomach and pussy, pushing the fingers into your Hungry mouth, watching with lust filled eyes how you sucked on them like a whore
"I wanna put my dick inside" he pants and you nod aggressively, moaning around his fingers at the mere thought of having him in you
"Yeah? your pussy is craving it too isn't it? hungry for sex? " He asked grinding his hips into your core, his bare cock rubbing into your bare pussy, coating itself in warm pussy juices
You nodded and wrapped your legs around his waist, showing him your eagerness for sex, bucking your hips up
"Fuck this , gonna pound your cunt" he cursed and thrusted inside your awaiting hole in one go, a sharp scream falling from your lips while his mouth fell open in a silent moan of relief and satisfaction
His brows furrowed and he started thrusting into your wet gummy walls without waiting for you to adjust. You cried in pleasure and pain, his size too big that it was tearing through your womb but the way his cockhead was nudging against your cervix had your eyes rolling back in pleasure
"fuck baby, fuck" he panted above you, his body sweaty, shirt hanging haphazardly over his frame, the only focus being your tight pussy gripping his cock.
His eyes bore into yours, faces inches apart while his balls slapped against your ass, hips snapping mercilessly, in and out. In and out.
The juices were squelching, you could feel your orgasm at the tip of your tongue and by the way his hips were stuttering, you knew he could too, your bodies running on pure lust and desire for sex. The heat reaching a fever pitch.
Your groins snapped against each other lewdly, your mouths open, wanting to kiss but everything felt so good you both couldn't help but moan into each other's mouth instead, not kissing but not wanting to pull away
"Mhmnnk fuuck gonna cum so much in this cunt" he groaned into your mouth huskily, his sweat dripping down onto your face.
Your nails dug into his neck, hips bucking up continuously and rapidly, meeting his every thrust halfway, chasing and chasing that high until both of you were moaning into each other's mouths, cumming together, making a mess all over the bed, hips still moving to ride out the primal feeling for longer.
Pleasurable sighs of satisfaction left your lips when he grinded into your heat again, his dick still hard inside of you
His spent body fell on yours and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, hips moving in you a few more times before he was pulling out of you and laying on your side, panting heavily.
You looked down and saw how hard his dick still was, nibbling on your bottom lip worriedly, did you not satisfy him?
"fuck" his voice pulled you out of your trance and you watched in awe as he took his cock into his palm and started jerking himself off
You sat up on your elbow and just watched, feeling hot, eyes running over his sweaty body and how his stomach clenched when he thrusted into his fist
"keep watching how I beat my meat for you baby, just keeping fucking watching I'm so close" He groaned and you looked at his face. His eyes were hooded and ran all over you with wanton desire as he bucked into his fist, the sight so hot it was making you light headed
"god you drive me crazy, gonna cum so hard again, gonna cum so much, gonna fucking-he moaned, his neck stretching back, his adam's apple bobbing harshly as his hips stilled and spasmed, hot white cum squirting out of his cock, covering his stomach and palms while he jerked himself off to completion. His dick slowly deflating.
He panted harshly and you rubbed his bicep to help him calm his breathing. You couldn't believe you had just had sex with your boyfriend for the very first time and it was so fucking hot. You had taken a total of 3 dicks in your whole life and to say that heeseung's dick was the only one to introduce you to pleasure would be an understatement.
As his breathing calmed down, he looked at you and grinned, pulling you closer to his body, caressing your sides softly "how was that?" He asked and you blushed, feeling shy all of a sudden
"So good hee" You mumbled and he chuckled, finding you adorable
"Yeah? wanna do it again? " he asked and you gasped, hitting his chest
"We just had sex, won't it be too much?" You asked, unsure.
He chuckled and fisted his dick, which was suspiciously getting hard again, hissing in overstimulation
"There's no such thing as too much sex baby, we do it whenever we want, as many fucking times as we want, as long as we fucking want" he whispered and turned you over, capturing your lips into his mouth, ready to take you again.
a/n : I'm going to disappear after posting this cuz I have exams this whole month, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
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nanaslutt · 6 months
Note
gojo making you ride his hard fucking abs
well HELLOOO to you too nonnie, this is so brilliant
this scenario makes my brain feel like mush, thank yew so much for the ask babe<3
contains: fem reader, body worship, praising gojo, dirty talk, finger sucking, nipple play, size kink, humping, use of ‘pretty’ and baby’ for reader, gojo cums untouched
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
it was a gloomy morning, gojos oversized button up shirt draped over your figure, elbows perched on the back of the couch as your hands cradled your chin, staring out the tall windows of gojo’s penthouse and down on the common people that were just starting their day
the savory smell of bacon and pancakes cooking filling your nose as you crane your neck to the side to watch your handsome boyfriend prepare breakfast for the two of you
eyes fliting down to his bare torso, abs practically glowing under the hanging fluorescent lights, muscles on his pecs rippling every time he rotates his body, biceps flexing as he mixes more pancake batter together,
pink tongue sticking out against his upper lip as he concentrates on not burning the bacon, how he looked so naturally beautiful always baffled you, his pretty face looking so serious has you smiling to yourself
an intense itch in your brain coming on telling you that you needed to have your hands on your stupidly attractive boyfriend right this second has you pushing yourself up from the couch, strolling over to his massive figure,
creeping behind him, and pressing your tits and the side of your face into his back, wrapping your arms around him, fingers landing exactly where you wanted them to; right on his rock hard abs,
“got tired of people watchin baby?” he smiles feeling your hands caress up his naked chest,
“you’re much more pleasing to watch,” you hum into his solid back,
“seems like i’m pleasing to touch too,” he retorts smugly when your smaller hands start groping his pecs, “my pretty girl is so handsy this morning.”
you have the most satisfied look on your face, unable to believe this rock solid mountain of a man was all yours to touch whenever you wanted
running your hands down the sides of his slutty little waist and up back over his rippling abs, tracing your fingers in the indents between them
his heart rate is picking up the longer he feels your cold hands run over his body, huffing out quiet breathless laughs, looking down at you as your maneuver your body in front of him now,
squished between his large figure and the counter, “ur abs are so fucking hot toru.” you practically moans out, splaying your fingers out over them, leaning into him to pepper kisses right under his pecs,
breath hitching as he looks between the food still cooking on the stove, and your clearly aroused face, leaving hot kisses and licks on his sensitive body,
“ur so distracting baby, gonna make me burn the food i’m workin so hard on for you.” he forces out a laugh, feeling his cock twitch in his pants, growing harder the longer he feels your soft lips on him
“don’ mind me, jus’ appreciating my boyfriends sexy body,” you speak in between kisses,
now he wants to laugh for real, it’s kinda hard to stay focused on the task at hand when your hands are sliding over the deep cuts of his v-line, fingers so very close to the hem of his baggy sweats,
sliding down between the counter and his strong legs, balancing your ass on the heels of your feet as you start to practically makeout with his abs, feeling the vibrations on his tummy as you let out small moans into him,
“h-aaah baby cmon,” he turns off the stove with one hand, shoving both pans off the heat and onto the back burners, running his large fingers through your hair
you lean into the touch affectionately, fingers smoothing over his lithe figure where your lips can’t reach from your current position between his legs, “thought you woke up starving huh?” he states, making eye contact with you, veiw slightly blocked by the massive bulge he’s now sporting in his sweats,
you look up at him through your lashes,”hungry for somethin else now,” smiling, you standing back up, sliding your fingers underneath the band of his sweats and teasing the tips of your fingers there for a second before walking away, using the hold you had on him to pull him along with you like a dog,
“oh, where are you takin me cutie?” his eyebrows shoot up, happily trailing behind you
spinning him in front of you, you pushed him down onto to the couch you were resting against prior to the attack you assaulted on your boyfriend,
he lets himself relax into the cushions, hand sticking out to caress your thigh as you reach underneath your (his) shirt and slide your panties off your ankles before straddling his waist, core placed right over his lower abs,
“want you to just lay there toru,” you lean down into his ear and whisper, making a open mouthed toothy grin appear on his handsome face, “yeah? you gunna ride my abs baby?”, he breaths out, landing heavy hands down on your ass with a smack, massaging your cheeks in his massive palms,
“mhm,” you whimper, pulling your shirt up between your teeth, beginning to rotate your hips in small circles, pressing your soaking cunt into him
“oh shit, you for real? gonna get ur wet little cunt off by rubbin on my muscles?” he bites his lip watching the scene unfold
breath hitching, you stared intently down at where your leaking pussy meets his abs, humping your hips back and forth now, clit catching on the deep indents of his solid core,
“fuck t-toru,” throwing your head back you let the shirt between your drop, covering your body once more, humping him with a newfound vigor
he’s breathing so heavy watching you use him to get yourself off, his neglected cock twitching for attention as he pulls and pushes your ass cheeks together, helping you rub yourself off on him faster,
“makin such a mess on me, look how fucking wet you are!” he groans, pushing the shirt back up your body so he can get a good view of the juices from your cunt flooding his torso,
“feel good baby? i can feel your pussy twitching, she wanna get filled up after you cum all over me?” he’s babbling, feeling on the verge of cumming himself, not even having touched his cock, just from watching your reactions to grinding hard on him, and feeling how you squeezed around nothing at his filthy words,
“y-yeah toru, feels so fucking perfect oh my g-god,” high pitched moans leaving your mouth, one of your hands that was previously on his chest helping you hold yourself up was now sliding up his solid figure, two of your fingers sliding in his open mouth,
closing his lips around them and sucking, using his tongue to lick around them, feeling the vibrations of his moans shake your digits
hes rolling his eyes back, massaging your ass impossibly harder before youre popping your fingers out of his mouth and tracing your spit covered digest down his neck,
reaching his nipples you make quick circles over the hardening pink buds, he bites his lip and throws his head back, trying not to moan like a little bitch at the new sensation,
hes flexing his abs in perfect time with your thrusts, clit getting the perfect stimulation you needed, “please don’t stop p-please please” you’re babbling, hips losing their rhythm and moans getting higher and higher, shorter and shorter, little “ah ah ah!”s leaving you,
“yesyesyes give it to me pretty give it to me, cum all over me, need ‘t feel it please,” he huffs out, he’s mirroring your expression with a slacked jaw, watching intently as your hips almost come to a complete stop before you he feels your cunt gush,
squeezing around his torso with your thighs, your back arches forward each time you’re hit with a wave of your orgasm, barely able to rock on him by yourself anymore from the intensity of your orgasm, he took it upon himself to use your ass to rock you back and forth on his abs, helping you ride it out,
both of you breathing rapidly when you finally come down from your high, looking down at his chiseled body to see the absolute mess you made, abs really glowing now from the sheen of cum you left on him,
“looks like that felt ‘s fucking good,” he says with a dopey grin on his face, chest heaving, your arms fall back behind you to brace yourself, one accidentally landing on his crotch and you freeze
turning you torso and neck in time you look down at his once light gray sweats and see a big damp spot on his crotch, cock twitching in the aftershocks underneath it, when you turn back around he’s looking more fucked out than ever, “looks like i wasn’t the only one who got off on that,” you giggle, breakfast he was working so hard on long forgotten about
4K notes · View notes
tojipie · 6 months
Note
mma fighter toji? (im so happy tk see that you’re back btw ❤️)
i really do think this is the best ask i’ve ever gotten pls feel proud of ur brain before u go to bed tonight bc ily. wrote this on the verge of falling asleep if u see any spelling error no u did not.
mma fighter!toji x reader | 1k words
content: violence, injury, blood, reader objectified by stranger
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“you got it, you got—don’t fucking look at her, look at me fushiguro!” your boyfriend’s manager yells, holding a bucket to the younger man’s heaving chest with a sigh.
toji nods at the command, taking a swig of water and spitting into the vessel before wiping his mouth with an ungloved hand. fighters never drank in the ring, it’d only settle heavy in your stomach. make you easier to catch.
blood and saliva drip down his chin and onto the floor of the ring, bright red patters against black mesh.
you watch the veins in toji’s neck pulse underneath sweaty skin, decorated with swirls of black and grey ink. his tattoos extend down his chest and back, working to cover the mess of purple and blue bruises across his body.
on his rib lies a scrawl of your name, etched into his skin for millions to see every time he stepped into the ring.
the raven haired man says something unintelligible to his team before smacking his temple with his glove, almost as if he was trying to knock something back into place.
you cringe at the thought of a brain injury so early into his career. you’d heard stories before, world class fighters reduced to shells of themselves. shot memories, seizures, even paralysis. you try not to think too deeply about it.
the TV screens in front of you pan to across the ring to his opponent. ryomen sukuna, 2 years into his career with every title under the sun.
everything except heavyweight champion. the name belonging to the winner of this very match.
sukuna was terrifying, completely unfazed by the rivets of blood pouring from his temple and left nostril. you’d quite literally watched him pop his nose back into place during the first break after your boyfriend had dealt a serious blow to it. to say this man scared you was an understatement.
toji notices your anxiety, leaning against the mesh wall of the ring to look down at you in the front row.
“you watchin’?” he yells with a grin, barely coherent over the mixed sounds of cheers and boos.
you smile, though your boyfriend scowls at the onslaught of paparazzi trying to capture the tender moment. he spits at the see-through wall of the ring to serve as an unspoken “fuck you.” cheers ring out from the sidelines as the screens capture the interaction.
toji turns to you and pushes off of the mesh wall, throwing his hands out with a “tsk” and a shake of his head.
“you worried about me baby?” he teases, fully aware that the cameras are still on him. “you don’t gotta worry about me, right?.”
you laugh, motioning for security to shoo any onlookers off. the mix of adrenaline and attention was clearly getting to him, though you loved when he got cocky like this. he always fucked you hardest after a big win.
the two men settle back into the middle of the ring, the referee separating them with an stern arm. sukuna looks down at you with an unreadable expression, pinning you to your seat with just a glance. toji’s pink-haired opponent turns back to him with a sinister grin, taking out his mouthguard to speak clearly. you only manage to make out the end of his insult, blood running cold as his words register.
“..and after they give me that title? i might fuck that little girlfriend of yours, fushiguro.”
toji says nothing, expression blank. you begin to wonder if he even heard the other man, but the buzz signifying round 3 pulls you out of your thoughts. you brace for whatever may come next.
sukuna is a brick wall, but toji’s light on his feet, weaving in and out of punches with his gloves guarding his face.
he’s faster than usual, spurred on by adrenaline and anger.
he lands a kick to sukuna’s ribs, the sickening crunch reaching the front row right on impact. definitely two, maybe even three broke ribs you hear a fan spectate.
his opponent curses, landing two punches to his chest before knocking toji to the ground, just barely missing the raven haired man with a solid blow right as he springs upwards.
“you gonna fuck her?” toji scoffs, landing another kick to sukuna’s injured ribs. you can barely make out their conversation even with a front row seat, you doubt anyone in the stands has been able to understand them this whole time.
the pink-haired man winces on impact, his first show of weakness since the beginning of the match.
“huh? tell me.” your boyfriend muses, dodging a kick and throwing sukuna to the floor. cheers ring out in the stadium at the direct show of brutality, you cover your mouth in anticipation.
toji settles his body weight on the man below him, twisting his arm as far as it will go while keeping his face to the floor. his legs wrap around and under the second man, squeezing his injured ribs like a vice with his thighs.
sukuna lands a blow with his free arm, then another, then another. toji does nothing, holding his opponent down with a smile almost too wide, too sinister.
“fuck.. fuck!” sukuna yells, struggling under the weight of the man above him.
the crowd is in hysterics, the announcers are out of their seats. “an unprecedented burst of energy,” you hear them call it. nothing like they’d ever seen before during any of toji’s matches.
you have to fight off the ego boost it gives you, knowing he’s only fighting this hard for you. because another man dared to speak on your name in his presence.
toji takes a couple more punches with that same smile, finally grabbing his opponent’s free arm to render the other man motionless.
you stagger out of your seat, running into the isle to get a better view of the ring.
the referee crouches by the two men, waiting to call the match. sukuna shares a look with third man, groaning before tapping toji’s wrist three times.
the crowd is animalistic. screams, wails, jeers, all of it meshes together within seconds.
toji’s security forms a circle around you, leading you towards the ring as fans flood the isles in celebration.
that was it, he’d won the title. Fushiguro Toji, heavyweight champion.
sukuna is led out of the ring by his team, choosing to forego any post-match interviews. he doesn’t dare look at you as he passes you on the steps, humiliated beyond belief.
calls of your name echo out from the center of the ring, your boyfriend pushing past paparazzi to scoop you into his arms.
the heat from his torso melts into yours as he clutches you to his body. he’s sweaty, practically bleeding from every direction too. but he’s smiling.
it’s not the smile he puts on for press, a quick flash of perfect teeth to keep the morale light, keep his sponsors happy. not the sinister smile he flaunts during matches either, fueled by bloodlust and pure adrenaline.
not even the cocky smile he puts on for the crowd when the match gets tough, the one that gets his opponents mad, gets the crowd hit and bothered.
this smile is soft, private. a small show of love in a sea of flashing cameras and prying eyes. this smile says “i love you, I do this for you.”
you reach for his face, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. toji wipes the blood—his— from your lips with a calloused thumb, pulling your head to his chest with a soft murmur.
“i love you.”
3K notes · View notes
arijackz · 2 months
Text
PICK A CARD: What are your most alluring qualities?
🂺 "Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears." ~ Edgar Allen Poe~
Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is meant to help uplift your spirit and highlight qualities about you that transcend space and time and manage to energetically get picked up by lil ol' me. Who then tries to put that inexplicable beauty into words. :)
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p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4
☀︎ Pile One ☀︎ (nine of cups, magician rev., moon rev.,hanged man, page of cups, queen of cups)
⇾ Pink. Yellow. Fuzzy. This feels so warm, there's heat around my waist. Maybe you’re a dancer? Do you like to wear very big pullovers or extra garments around your waist? Corsets? I’m getting a strong emphasis with an attraction toward your waistline. Also, a very airy feeling in my ribs. ⇾ You’re fucking hilarious. Your ability to uplift any room’s vibe is extremely attractive. Strong water energy, Cancer, Pisces, Scorpio, 4th, 8th, 12th house. But not as emotionally heavy. Not the thunderstorm but the sunny, dewy morning after. Literal sunshine. You may have a signature scent. Coconut, vanilla, brown sugar. Before shuffling your cards, my nose was congested but while I was channeling, I had these moments where air would pass through the room, clear my sinuses, and the tingling feeling in my ribs came back. ⇾ You’re a high. A nice clean, mellow high. The brief moments in time when your body completely relaxes and you start flowing with the wind. People are addicted to how you make them feel. Your energy feels like the first hit of that oui. wink wink. People get a hit of your energy and it feels like an escape. This is my intuitive and sensitive dreamy pile. There is a lot of emotional depth here, you’re enigmatic. Being in your presence transports people to a simpler time in their lives. A period where the sun shined brighter, the air was cleaner, and all the color in the world felt more vivid. People can sense the storm raging in the back of your head but can visually see your perseverance and ability to not let darkness rot you, keeping this light and airy energy. It’s almost superhuman, you almost seem not real. You’re impossibly infectious. ⇾ You have a lot of natural inner abundance, you attract a lot in life even if you don’t realize it. I’m getting moksha house energy, a strong wheelhouse of influential power. The duality of your sweet, caring but reserved introspective nature is sexy as fuck, to be honest. It is hypnotizing and ignites people. I also see you have attractive skin, whether it’s clear, glowy, or cute moles, I'm not sure. But something about your skin people just can’t help but want to trace and admire. Jupiter/Pisces energy. Sugary sweet and in your own world, I feel like I have a toothache. Rare kind and light energy. Your attractiveness and romantic influence on people is one of your natural talents pile 1. I can see that with the Jupiterian energy I'm getting. You got 3 major arcana cards back to back. You’re a light in the dark and people are moths to a flame.
"You're pretty like a memory"
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☀︎ Pile Two ☀︎ (ace of swords, the tower, knight of swords, 6 of swords rev, the magician, 3 of wands)
⇾ Well for starters, you’re SEXXXYYYY. Not just physically, but your wit, intelligence…people’s attraction to you gives me the image of Joan of Arc’s admirers. People perceive you as gorgeous, brave, and intimidatingly capable. ⇾ I’m getting Uranian energy, Yes, something about you is very mercurial, but this is next level. In modern astrology, Uranus is a higher octave of Mercury and symbolizes putting these higher-level ideas into action. Your ability to think of a goal and go after it is attractive. Or have a belief and fiercely defend it. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you have an innate ability to monetize or profit off of your ideas and skills. Especially with all this sword energy, the 3 of wands, AND the magician. Mane, you make shit HAPPEN. You make shit shake. A lot of people say they’re going to do things they have no intention of starting or say things they don’t actually believe. You are a rare exception to that. You put your money where your mouth is, and the amount of willpower and intelligence you possess is intimidating yet so very very attractive. ⇾ There’s gotta be some major concentration in your natal chart, a stellium, a reoccurring modality, sign, not sure but your energy is uniquely focused and intense. You may sometimes battle with excess mental energy. Anxiety, overthinking, etc. You’re a harbinger of change. Wherever you go, major changes follow and there is something very important about your energy. Your footprint in this world is larger than the average person’s. Your sense of self and your loyalty to your authenticity and values is highly admirable. *whispers* maybe even enviable, watch out for negative intentions and trust your discernment. ⇾ Whether you’re a man or woman watching this, you intimidate a lot of men. You’re the creme of the crop so to speak. You are the human embodiment of a warrior. Strategic, brave, and your fire cannot be dimmed. You have this eternal energy to you. Your name will be sung long after you leave this Earth. There will be tales and songs about you. There is an emphasis on making a change and legacy here, 10th house/ Capricorn Energy. Solar and Jupiterian energy is possible too, there's a lot of king semblance here. I feel like your frame is very attractive. Defined muscles especially around your neck and shoulders. Fox attractiveness. Sharp features, or some special emphasis with your lips, jaw, and teeth.  There is a lot of sexual attraction in this pile. I was shuffling and getting flashes of old Wattpad enemies to lovers and dark academia rivalry fanfiction 😭😭. I’m getting a headrush. Maybe you feel like a headrush to people at times.  You might look good in darker, cool-tone colors or have dark hair. ⇾ You make people aware of their shortcomings and that triggers them. You trigger strong emotions in people. People see you as superior to many, you’re either singled out in a crowd positively or negatively. People either love or hate you but it is undeniable that you are sexy and very fucking capable. You also have the ace of wands at the bottom of the deck…like I said…sexy and capable.
"Don't look at me with those eyes"
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☀︎ Pile Three ☀︎ (The tower, queen of swords, three of pentacles, queen of wands, 9 of wands)
⇾ This is my dark feminine pile. 🎶Sheee’sssss a maaaann eeeaaatttttttuuuhhhhhhhh🎶, Ironically, the black cat got chosen for this pile. The tower paired with the two queen cards screams shadowy feminine to me, but balanced. The three of pentacles create a bridge between your intense fire and air energy. You balance your shadowy, detached and your fiery, passionate nature and it creates this intoxicating dichotomy that people can not get enough of. ⇾ You also are reserved and guarded, people can tell it is hard to gain your trust and gain access to your inner world so people subconsciously try hard to earn your favor. When I was laying out your cards my eyes got heavy and I felt like I needed to go to bed. You have a very sultry sluggishness to you. Think about Corpse Bride, how her eyes were always low, she moved slowly, and her voice was low. You have a dark veil over your character that is very alluring. There may be an 8th house or Mars emphasis in your natal chart. Make sure to check your planetary midpoints. ⇾ I am getting a Gabriette Betchel vibe. There's a darkness around the eyes of the man standing in the nine of wands. There is a draw to the shape of your eyes, especially if they droop a little or you have sunken eyes. Maybe you like dark makeup if you’re into makeup. This pile definitely had a crush on Morticia Adams growing up. You ARE Morticia Adams. Pretty Rave Girl is playing in my head, I don’t associate your energy with the rave aesthetic but I get the sense that people fantasize about you. You’re naturally mysterious and detached and most people only have an idea of you rather than a one-on-one connection. You may face a lot of projections, there’s fog around people’s perception of you. Plutonian-type power, insanely magnetic, with Neputinian-type glamour, veiled and shapeshifting. There may be some WLW baddies in this collective. ⇾ I feel like a very small number of people truly know you, you are reserved and selective with your energy and let me tell you, that is the most attractive practice a human being can implement. You are a once-in-a-lifetime personality that people dream about embodying. YOU ARE AN AESTHETIC. Well not exactly, I’m not limiting you down to your appearance. But you are the ideal embodiment of the dark feminine, man-eater aesthetic. The other three piles felt like concepts that I tried to piece together to paint a picture, your pile feels like a tried and true timeless dark sexiness that we've seen in cinema and music videos throughout the years. There is range here though, I’m feeling anywhere between Morticia Adams to Effy from Skins. The allure of Hollywood’s bombshells mixed with the angst and self-guardedness of America’s outcasted teen icons. I’m seeing an emerald snake, if you’re into sidereal astrology you may have ashlesha placements. I could write an entire essay about the fucking bullshit you've endured and THRIVED FROM but this is already getting a lil lengthy lol. Just know that you are living testament to the saying “I get knocked down ten times but get up eleven.” Stay sexy pookie.
"You got your HP Lovecraft... your Edgar Allan Poe"
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☀︎ Pile Four ☀︎ (high priestess, two of swords, 4 of pentacles, the empress, knight of pentacles, 10 of cups)
⇾ UHHHH THE DRAAMMAAA. Bae, the high priestess FLEW out. You’re angelic. No mf backtalk. I don’t know about the stereotypical angel, but something about your presence is otherworldly. So intense but hard to conceptualize, can’t classify your energy as anything less than angelic. People see you as something holy and righteous. A theme of fairness and divinity is strong here. I’m seeing the virgin (Virgo, purity) and a gavel (libra, balance and fairness.) Your energy is always in a state of balance and harmony. Temperance did not come out, but I’d bet my top dollar that it would have if I kept pulling. ⇾ I’m hearing a steady water stream and the flaps of bird wings. People come to you for peace and tranquility. Your aura is serene and healing. Being near you is like transporting to a haven with clean water, a sustainable garden, fresh air, and BUNNIES. An image of a ton of white bunnies just came to me. This is not an 18+ reading, so I won’t go into detail but bunnies represent fertility and high sexual energy. You have an abundance of creativity. The best representation of people’s attraction to you I can put into words is like seeing raw energy. There’s this movie that came out in 2017 called Annihilation and there’s a scene where the main character comes into contact with pure energy and is so entranced by it that she just stares at it head empty, blankly in complete awe. THAT is how people see you. Like c’mon high priestess, the empress, 10 of cups, don’t ever fucking question yourself. You have an undeniably divine aura. ⇾ You’re a big deal, you're energy is very enlightening and calm but there is a heavy weight to it. Everything you do in life makes an impression and holds weight. Your thoughts matter, your conversation changes lives, and your very presence makes an imprint on people’s souls. Virgo 6th house, libra 7th house, Scorpio 8th house, Pisces 12th house. ⇾ You also have a very stable, Earthy nature to you with the 4 of pentacles and the Empress. To me, this is pure wealth. You will see a lot of luxury in your lifetime. You are a giver, you have a lot to offer the world. You are the epitome of “fill my own cup and let it overflow to those around me.” You share your abundance and prosperity follows you. You have the divine understanding that life is all about balance and what you give, you receive tenfold. ⇾ People think you look really good in white. Blonde hair could be a good look on you. Any aesthetic that involves purity or innocence really suits you. Personally, I’d say you look fucking killer in red hair. ⇾ With the ten of cups, I’m getting major wish-fulfillment vibes. When suitors see you they hear an angelic chime in their ear (I hear it right now) and music starts playing. DREAM GIRL. By the strictest definition too, you’re very dreamy and your allure is cloudy, people are afraid if they touch you, you’ll float away. You could have prominent Neptune placements. Do you like to sing? Harmoney and melodic sounds keep popping up. I'm thinking of Euterpe, the muse of music. ⇾ Your abundance leaks into your appearance (look for aspects to your ascendant, especially Neptune, Jupiter, and the Sun), you look very youthful and hydrated. It’s going to sound creepy but from a biological, primal-lizard brain perspective, you look fruitful and like you'd bear many blessings and children. Your skin is well hydrated and plump, your hair is strong and luscious, and you look overall very healthy.
"Be Not Afraid."
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ahhh that was so much fun! to those who resonated with a pile, thank you for giving me the pleasure of experiencing your energy and reading for you. if you liked it let me know :)
2K notes · View notes
fairyflightsairline · 1 month
Text
Archer - Yandere Bully
[Warnings - nsfw, blood, violence, mentions of noncon]
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What a little bitch. That’s all you were- well, that’s all you were supposed to be.
Another pretty little face for Archer to take advantage of. He’d rid any fuzzy feelings inside of him by stomping your status beneath his shoe til he was too disgusted by your patheticness to even consider you human. But of course, you just had to complicate things. You always fucking did. Nothing was that simple with you.
“S-shit..fuck..”
He was bordering on a whimper, his head knocked against the stall wall of the bathroom he holed himself up in. He glared down at his painfully hard cock, pulsating in his palm, begging for release. If his mind wasn’t so clouded with lust, he’d be dumbfounded. He never got this hard when he’d pick fights with other people around school. Sure, it was satisfying to watch his victims squirm and beg, but it never made him…well- horny.
When he cornered you he didn’t expect you actually had it in you to hit him back. There was still a faint ringing in his ears from when your fist crashed down into his pretty face. By the end you were both panting, and he was left with a broken nose and your blood smeared across his knuckles.
If he had any idea where you were dragged off to after the fight he would’ve forced you take care of the mess you started. It was your fault he was here, fisting his cock like a fucking loser, using his victims blood as lube.
The sticky solution trickled down the head of his penis, your blood almost the same shade of red as his cock. He slowed pumped his cock into his palm, watching with disgusting fascination as the reddish-pink liquid beaded on his slit.
Without thinking he swiped the little puddle with his thumb, pressing his finger to his tongue. His thumb bobbed against his tongue piercing as he tried to savor all the taste he could.
He could’ve came right then and there if he focused hard enough.
“Stupid bitch..” he murmured, glaring at the ceiling as he jerks himself off, as if you were forcing him to be such a disgusting slut for you.
He didn’t even bother to clean the blood from his broken nose running down his face, dripping down onto his unbuttoned school uniform.
“Uh..hey man, you good? It’s been like, ten minutes-“, one of his crownies calls out from outside the boys bathroom, making him growl in annoyance.
“Give me a fucking minute!” He barked back, silencing anymore complaints or concerns.
His hips desperately rocked up to meet his hand with every thrust. His hold was so tight on his cock, chasing his high, aiding by the soothing thought that it was your blood on his cock. That his blood was probably on your hands too. That you could be holed up in a bathroom somewhere on the other side of the school, in the same predicament he was.
A strangled moan left his lips as he finally cums, white and red liquid stained the stall wall. He slumps on the toilet he was sitting on the lid of, his face reddening even further as the fog in his head wore off. He really just did that. Fuck, he was gross.
Before he could get far into his thoughts of self disgust, his eyes flickered down to his hand. Still dripping with his cum and what little was left of your blood.
Fuck.
He tried not to think too hard as he licked the rest off his knuckles.
What the fuck did you do to him?
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