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#anyway please enjoy mwah
miusato · 1 month
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Hey chat I think I have a problem I cant stop drawing them hugging what should I do?????
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leafsfromthevine · 2 months
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i feel like my sister might like you, just not in the same way i do
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collegeoflore · 7 months
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Suspension
pairing: nb!Tav x Astarion
rating: E
word count: 1,800
description: set between Moonrise Towers and Baldur’s Gate. The relationship is still new and the looming threat of the ritual is complicating things just a smidge. They both believe this is something real, but they don’t know what something real means and aren’t quite able to trust one another yet. But sometimes things can be put aside, if only for a moment.
more info: Xarrai is a tiefling bard with the charlatan background, and an escaped Banite cultist. Any pronouns are fine (though I stick with they/them here for clarity.)
The night air is warm. Xarrai is laying between Astarion’s thighs, their back against his chest. They can feel the coolness of his skin through both of their clothes, smell the rosemary and the hint of decay. It’s become a strange comfort, now, though that isn’t the strangest part of their life these days. He nuzzles into their mop of dark curls, inhales slowly, and gently presses their head to the side. They let him, of course, offering their neck to him as easy as breathing. They are boneless in his grasp, molten sugar sweetness poured down the front of his torso. If they breathe deep enough, they can smell the smoke from their cigarettes on his shirt even though he turns up his nose every time they offer him a drag.
His cool breath ghosts over the shell of their ear. His arms are wrapped around them, hands resting on their waist, fingers on their skin where their shirt rides up. This is different than before – there was a time, not long ago, when sex would have come after (or before, or during) this, when the bite would have only been one step in their dance. But now his touch is delicate and chaste, though the kisses he presses to their neck and shoulder are decidedly less so. There’s something delicious in that – in knowing he kisses them just to kiss them, just to feel the hot war-drum beat of their heart beneath their skin. His teeth graze the spot where their shoulder meets their throat and they shudder, exhale. It isn’t desire, just sensation, raw and new. “May I?” He asks, just loud enough for them to hear. It doesn’t drip with the poisoned-honey seduction it did before, the masquerade mask Xarrai pretended they couldn’t see through. It’s lighter on his tongue now, tripping across their skin like the breeze in late autumn. There’s something almost like reverence to it. Almost.
“Of course.” Xarrai murmurs. What else could they say? Astarion lingers, briefly, all lips and no teeth, trails his way up slowly to the spot where their heart beats closest to their skin. And then they feel it, his fangs like shards of a broken mirror in their throat followed by the pleasant, floating numbness. He makes a muffled noise against them and moves his hand up to support their drooping head, his other hand splaying out on their chest. Their pulse pounds beneath his palm. They know he can feel it, the ceaseless thrumming, just as they can feel the warm, wet spill of their blood into his mouth. Xarrai is suspended, weightless, buzzing numbness spreading outward. Astarion’s hand is warmer on their chest than it was a moment before. Or perhaps they’re just colder.
In the morning, things will be different again. Maybe Astarion will make another comment about that damned ritual, and maybe Xarrai will bristle, but only just. Or maybe he won’t. Maybe it will be just the same as tonight. Dancing around the thing that waits for them in Baldur’s Gate like a gilded guillotine. Either way, Xarrai will not quite trust him. Either way, they will weave the truth between lies because it is all they know how to do.
But this - Astarion holding them against his chest, their blood filling his mouth - this requires trust. They trust he will not drink too deeply. He trusts they will not turn on him for it. They trust each other because they must, because they have no choice when his lips are on their throat and the knife strapped to their thigh is pressing against his leg. There is hardly a division between them like this; Xarrai’s heart pumps their blood through both of their bodies, their hand grips his arm across their chest. They are one, the same frightened animal. Xarrai’s tadpole squirms, tries to reach his but they stop it just short of making the connection. They don’t need it.
They trust him. What else could they do?
Astarion pulls away before the numbness spreads too far. He makes a familiar little noise, that sharp half-laugh that has found a home in the folds of Xarrai’s mind, now. “Incredible.” He murmurs, somewhere between the tone he takes after they kiss him, just this side of too much, and the almost-reverence of his voice before his teeth touch their skin. If Xarrai listens hard enough, it could be something real.
Xarrai laughs a little too, eyes still closed. “No need for flattery, darling.” They drawl, head still cradled in his hand. “Though, I’m not complaining…”
“It’s not flattery.” Astarion says. Xarrai wonders what his eyes would look like if they could see them – are they ruby-sharp or sweet as blood? Their head spins. They lean it back against his shoulder. His voice drops lower, a playful facsimile of seduction, an encore of a trick that didn’t land to begin with. “But if it’s flattery you want—“
“Gods, not the bullshit pickup lines again.” Xarrai groans. “If you try to call me your ‘little treat’ one more time, I will dump you in the river.” Astarion’s hand slips away from their chest, finds its place again by the hem of their shirt, skin on skin.
“I’ve not known you to turn down shallow praise.” Astarion’s voice is low and velvet soft. Xarrai can hear the smile in it, sharp as his pointed teeth
“Just tell me I’m beautiful.” Xarrai mimics his accent, just a little more polished than their own, their lips curled into a crooked grin. Astarion laughs. His breath is very nearly warm against their skin.
“You’re beautiful.” Xarrai trusts him enough to know he means it, even if it sounds like he’s joking. They wonder if that’s a foolish thing to do, trusting him. But then again, they’re rarely more than the fool. Unless they’re the rake. Unless they’re this, whatever this is: a raw nerve, a lit fuse. Vulnerable. Astarion licks the blood from their neck, slowly, methodically. He won’t waste a single drop. They give him this gift freely, without expectation, and he knows better than to squander it. “These marks will be permanent if we keep doing this, you know.” He says, precisely casual. He removes his hand from their hair, careful to keep their head balanced against his shoulder. They don’t open their eyes.
The sky above them is the same cloud-black as the inside of their eyelids, anyway. Their companions are all asleep – Xarrai can hear Karlach snoring next to the fire a few dozen paces away. “Is that a problem?” They echo his perfect placidity. He steps forward, they step back. One of them will have to break, to tell the truth one way or another.
It’s him. Astarion pulls their shirt back up onto their shoulder, smooths it carefully into place. The curve of their horn brushes his cheek. “I suppose not.” It’s light, airy. Flippant enough to be dangerous. Close enough to be true. Xarrai hears what he doesn’t say, too. You would really give me this? His hand brushes the side of their neck again, trails down their arm until he laces his fingers with theirs. It’s almost like caretaking, the way he holds them after he drinks, though he wouldn’t admit it. It’s no different from the way he mends the lining of their coat, no different from the way Xarrai rubs oil into his leathers in the firelight. They still trust him. Or close to it, anyway.
In the morning, Xarrai will remember this gift is not enough. They will see the hunger and the fear grow in his eyes with every step they take towards Baldur’s Gate and the weight of what he asks of them will settle again on their tongue like lead. The empty promises, his clumsy attempts to appeal to the ambition they hold like a knife to their own throat, all of it will still be there in the morning’s light. The same light that will paint him with a golden brush, brilliant and dazzling; the same light that will make him dangerous and irresistible. In the morning, they will be afraid again – afraid of the Absolute, afraid of the Black Hand that threatens to close around them, afraid of Cazador’s ritual and the ruin it could bring. Afraid of playing the wrong chord and sending the whole fragile melody they’ve been writing out of key. Afraid of breaking the only mirror that shows them plain.
But now? Now, Xarrai opens their eyes. Astarion is still there, still has his arm around their waist, his fingers laced with theirs. His eyes are not rubies but the molten sweetness of blood, and for one more moment they trust him, and he trusts them. Xarrai grins, all teeth, and reaches up to swipe the trickle of blood – their blood – from the corner of his mouth with their thumb. They don’t have to say anything. He licks it clean. For a breath, they stay like that - Xarrai’s hand on Astarion’s cheek, their thumb on his lips – as if suspended in the late summer air, floating.
It’s Xarrai who breaks it. Their cigarette case sits open next to Astarion’s knee, one last cigarette tucked inside, and they lean forward to snatch it. “I’ll share.” They look up at him again, holding their cigarette invitingly, one eyebrow raised, teeth glinting in the firelight when they smile. They know what he’ll say, but it’s all part of the ritual.
“Ugh, no.” Astarion huffs, scowling. “Do you really have to do that? You’re going to get ash on my carpet.” He doesn’t move away from them, despite his protests. He doesn’t acknowledge the ash already ground into the rug. His hand stays splayed on their stomach; his other clutches theirs until they pull it away. He rests it on their thigh instead, idly picking at the strap that holds their knife in place against the fabric of their trousers.
Xarrai snaps, and their fingertips light with a tiny blue flame. A party trick. The light dances on Astarion’s face, makes him look hilariously severe from this angle. “Unless you want to go find me a drink?” Xarrai gives him an exaggerated waggle of their eyebrows, smiling a touch too wide. He huffs and makes no move to get up, instead settling back into the pillows and turning his face to the starless sky with a dramatic sigh. Xarrai just laughs, a low, quick sound, and lights the cigarette. They breathe deep, feel the smoke fill their lungs. It’s a different numbness, a warm floating feeling in their chest. They exhale and watch the cloud disappear into the air. They lean their head against Astarion’s shoulder again.
In the morning they will be afraid. But not tonight. Not tonight.
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thefrogdalorian · 17 days
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Having of those moments where I wish to yeet the like button into the sun or maybe make it so there was setting you could turn on so that people can only reblog posts (even better with the minimum requirement of adding at least one tag)!!
It's kind of absurd that one of my fics is getting close to 500 notes while simultaneously being one I've had the least actual human interactions come from. Like...... come on, that's now how it should be AT ALL!
Don't get me wrong, I'm so thrilled people are clearly finding it and I guess enjoying it(??) but just having endless likes without people letting me know what they enjoyed about it or even if they liked it kind of makes me sad. That's not why I want to share my writing here!
I love having those little human connections with others. I don't ever want my writing to feel transactional. I would love to talk to more people about things I've written. It's truly one of the best feelings and I would hate to lose that, the more I write or the more notes my fics get. Please don't be shy!! I get the social anxiety, but there is no reason to be. I am truly just a Din Djarin obsessed loser.
Anyway, whine over. I don't want to focus on the negatives here and I appreciate every single person who has ever left a positive interaction with something I've written. You are truly a light!
#i don't JUST like posts too often#really the only posts i dont reblog but like are to save for later or if it's too personal/explicit#or i guess i have nothing to add and OP has said it all yknow#but if i see some writing or art i love then hell yeah i always force myself to add at least one tag i like just so the artist/author sees#otherwise it feels like a hollow transaction and i really want people to know i appreciate their art more than just pressing a button yknow#and I KNOW it's intimidating at first to interact with others!! TRUST ME i get it and i'm still awful at it#but just one little comment can make someone feel so good about their writing... why wouldn't someone want to try that at least#especially if you enjoyed it!!! even a key smash or a string of emojis!!!#and the death of the tumblr tag is SO SAD because where else am i meant to talk to you lot?#i mean these tags are longer than my actual post and that's the beauty of tumblr#you don't have to perceive me down here but you can if you wish and i love you for that!#and it's a nice way to organise your blog to make it navigable for others#ANYWAY said i was done whining and continued whining down here so there's that LOL but i always want to interact with more people#please do not be afraid of reaching out to me! scroll through my blog for 5 seconds and you'll see what a nerdy loser i am#akdjgds i mean aren't we all here#spud rants#writing#but thanks again to anyone who leaves nice comments im giving you a (consensual) forehead smooch MWAH
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lcevinolusola · 8 days
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hi again! hope you're in good health! your answer to the pirate au gave me life, if you ever wanna share more/info-dump about it I'll be happy to take a seat and listen. Since we have similar brain worms about them and it seems you've been on the spamano block even longer than I have I was wondering if you have any fic recs for them? (side note do you have an ao3?) or just any type of rec for spamano at all?
hi again!!! you must have the patience of a saint for waiting so long, but yes hello i am here and i have been DYING to answer your ask and once again i stuck it under a read more bc what is concise wording??? idk her shes not here we only ramble here! warnings for excessive over-explanation and the obsessive thoughts of someone who has been in this stupid fandom for way, way too long.
i also wanted to address the super sweet notes you wrote on your original ask that had me smiling like an absolute fool, btw!!!! so first off: THANK YOU AND IM SO GLAD YOU AGREE!!!!! listen, the canon dynamic between these two has always given me a very severe case of brain rot, and the ways in which that dynamic can be removed from canon and smacked into any au is just soooooo juicy. and while yes i do adore airhead spain with all my heart, i do see it as very reductive to his character and who he actually is. and this also kinda bleeds into answering this ask, so yay! two birds one stone!
my entire thing with these two is the fact that spain is, at his core, an empire. god, gold, glory. that was his whole thing, ruthlessly so. and while yes i do believe the nations dont personify their governments and instead represent the best of their people, it would be foolish to ignore what it means for spain (and antonio) to be the spanish empire, bloody, greedy, damned, troubled, all of it. and that bleeds a lot into how i imagine antonio to be!
antonio (and spain) will always carry a lot of guilt to me. he acts sweet and bubble and sunshiny, and i do think he genuinely is that way naturally, but a lot of it is also an attempt to distance himself from what he used to be, either from guilt, from wanting others to forget, or for whatever reason. who he is in current day is not who he was, but its still there and it is something he grapples with constantly. so, in the vein of my pirate au, antonio as a pirate is someone who is angry.
hes angry at the world, hes angry at his government, hes angry at the state of life for anyone who isnt wealthy and born into generational status, hes angry at the favoritism, at the restrictions, at everything. hes someone who wants freedom. spain as a character doesnt like to be restrained, hated his forced job of folding flowers, hated he couldnt do more when he was once so powerful (to the point where america even said anytime spain was near him hed try and hit him with his knees, so clearly he knows how to hold a grudge) and antonio would feel a lot of resentment to the state of the world as it exists around him but unable to change it—until he can
and lovino, who is angry but for so many other reasons. lovino, who is born into a gilded cage that he cant even touch, lovino, whose entire life was built around his younger (legitimate) brother who will one day inherit everything his grandfather passes on that lovino cannot have, even if they do love him, even if they do cherish him and give him an education and steady work and a comfortable life. but thats not enough, and why would it be? his name is worthless in this society. he barely exists outside of his small family, and whenever he's there, there is always the elephant in the room of none of this is mine, none of this will ever be mine. so yes hes angry, hes resentful, but hes also stuck. where can he go, realistically, when this is all hes ever known? and he loves his family. hes loyal, hes caring, he adores his family. he just also resents them because they are everything he can never be. (and i do throw seborga into the brothers. they are a trio to me and they always will be!)
so when they meet, when antonio sees this little angry brat with so much pent up aggression start barking insults at him in front of his own crew, how can he not be fascinated by that? and he sees someone wearing a shiny family crest of a prominent venetian family, and its so easy to him. take him, maybe teach him some respect, dump him in italy, get some money, and fuck off to the ocean again for the next prize.
and it would work if they both werent so fucking stupid at the same time. bc just like romano and spain, these two are two sides of the same dumb ass spectrum. angry and hopeful with different styles of attachment that fit just perfectly enough to make it feel clandestine. two people who could just so happen to understand where the other is coming from, with enough understanding to get it. and suddenly theyre not so different after all, are they, considering they both got screwed over in life, forced into roles they didnt want until someone gave them an out, until they give each other an out.
and then it becomes a lot less about stealing from the world and keeping it for themselves as it is giving each other the world, wealth and riches that belong to them and them alone, an open ear and willing hands and the understanding that antonio would rip the stars from the sky and temper raging oceans for lovino if he asked, hoping only for lovino to love him in return and choose to stay, to seek freedom and something different.
its entirely selfish and dangerous and doomed to fail from the start, which we as people in 2024 know, but its romantic in its desperation and honest in how actual real life pirates were furious with their lives and were entirely fucked over after the war of spanish succession, and while yes most of those pirates were english (and arthur is a big player in this story too, obvi), spain did have its fair share, esp in retaliation to what the english were doing to spanish treasure ships.
WOW that was a lot im so sorry for how long that is. i hope it is in some way understandable and not just rambling jibberish fghjkjh as for fic recs!!! babe how much time to do you bc i have like. thousands. ill start with my favorite few though, and maybe youll find something you like in them!
some are long, some are short, some are not as much romantic as they are doomed and haunted, and some are nauseatingly sweet, but its a range of stuff. let me know what you like and im sure i can tailor these more to your tastes!
in no particular order, some of my all time favs:
those who loved us all along by aalesundbren
the problem with being known by baybetime
the bocca della verità duology by nyoengland
ravish by ludwiggle73 (spamano isnt the main pair, its second to fruk, but its a good fic nonetheless)
underneath the gilded lights by kai_maciel (spamano is a very small part of this, its mainly centered around latam and portugal, but the parts they do have are cute and i love how spain is characterized. it has a second part with a few other spamano bits, if youre interested)
anything that champagnesly has ever written about spamano. one of my all time favorite authors, even if they havent been in the fandom in a very long time. their wine verse is a personal fav and i read it when i was younger and i still go back to read it now. same for oblivion, the blue hours, and tbh anything else spamano theyve ever written
we are all businessmen by soliloquium
tesoro mio by (they orphaned the fic, i do know who the author is but since its orphaned idk if they want me to say their name???? either way, great fic!)
more than attraction by whitetyger12
and finally, anything mareepysheepy has ever written for spamano, with a particular shout out to give and take
okay, thats all ill do for now. i have so many fic recs that ive accumulated over the years for this pairing, but hopefully you find something somewhere in this mess that you end up enjoying. sorry again for the wait and i hope this made up for it!!!!
you are a delight to my day and THANK YOU for allowing me to ramble endlessly about my stupid pirates
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boxwinebaddie · 2 months
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Unrelated to your tfbw au I just consumed and not a question but I find myself saying “woza” because of you /pos and I just think you should know that your writing has that kind of influence (I doubt I’m the only one experiencing this kind of Ninafication).
Anyway I think your content is golden and truthfully I mostly go on here to read your posts, no lie it literally makes my day better. Ok no more buttering, just thought I’d stop lurking for a sec 8)
AAAAAAA!!!! hello, my darling!!!! <3333 omg, i love the *stan vc* wowza. it's just the finest exclaimation of suprise, enchantment, merriment and awe. also, it's cute shdksh.
choose your fighter: the kyle 'mmm' sound or *stan vc* Wowza~
but when i tell you i am cheesing so hard!!!! that makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside. i think it's so cute when you guys tell me about your accidental ninafication or that you use my weird little ncu ninaisms in your real lives. <333 i remember when people were telling me about how they started telling their friends that they 'hope they heal' or how they accidentally started saying *nina vc* 'JAIL!!!!
re: the specific weird colloquialisms i created in my style fanfics though. it really means a lot to me that you guys enjoyed stuff like the share chair or stan calling kyle kyle pile in pep or kyle calling stan stan the man w/ the plan, me making weird side characters like pep corner store guy raj as our narrator, or even just smile pendejo or i hope you heal because??? that was all stuff that i invented within the context of my ncuniverses and don't exist in the sp universe at all?
which is not to say i created them thoughtlessly or haphazardly, quite the opposite actually! i created them very consciously around how i think my styles would address each other, cute teenage boy things, their little inside jokes, style signing when stan is depressed etc. but the fact that that resonated with you guys enough and made enough sense in my fanfictions that you don't mind that i cobbled them into the canon and actually enjoy them enough to use them!!! AAAAA!!!
i'm sorry you got ninaficated, darling, but i am so glad you did. thank you for enjoying my content. recently, i've been feeling a lot of imposter syndrome over it again and wondering if i'm just kind of yelling into the void, posting content that people don't care about. i worry about my cadence in my posts, if they seem to be written poorly, if i'm clogging your dash with my nonsense...but this is very reassuring. i am glad you guys still care about my stuff even though it's been forever, i try to keep it really fun and interesting on here and shift gears a lot through my posts to keep your brains working.
and on the note of shifting gears and keeping things interesting, thank you for reading my tfbw posts AAAAAA!!!! i know i am insane, but if you tell me you read stuff about everything is going to be o.k :) or to kill a king and enjoyed it i will personally feed you candy. ilysm.
which i hope when you consumed it, it was candy-like in flavor!!!! i hope very much that you enjoyed it!!! i put a lot of time into my lore for it so it makes me super happy when you guys enjoy my less asked about au content. especially because!!! strangely enough, rm was my project AFTER pep that quite literally no one was asking about and i made just for me...and now...here we are like 200 asks later.
...Wowza.
all in all, thank you so much, my lovely, for this message. i feel like we listen to me blather so often that i never get to hear from any of you! so it's really nice when you guys chime in and i can chat with you! also, not to freak you guys out, but i do camp on the notes sometimes and get really excited when i see someone liking a bunch of posts because either you're catching up on your light reading of my bullshit or you're new which...welcome to hell, enjoy your Slay! xx
-uncle nina, space heating the room w/ my blush
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ur-fav-alien · 1 year
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Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: All Elite Wrestling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Orange Cassidy & Donovan Danhausen Characters: Orange Cassidy, Donovan Danhausen Additional Tags: becoming friends, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Danhausen is strange, Orange Cassidy is also strange, They bond over their strange-ness and chinese food, implied: Chuck Taylor/Orange Cassidy Series: Part 2 of Danhausen + Friends Summary:
Some how, in the weirdness of the world, these two total opposites find solace in one another. Orange Cassidy and Danhausen are the best of friends.
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hopeinthebox · 1 year
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your Brad Pitt references in the Seokjin playlist 😂😂 also you're right, Gorgeous by T Swift is about Jin. thanks for sharing these playlists with us 🫰
gonna keep bothering you about Jin themed songs, but it's important: Luna by Smashing Pumpkins. moon themed and has the lyrics "i'll sing for you if you want me to". i'm having feelings.
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[re: the jinlist] skdhfbjsks thank you my darling <33 of course i had to get the brad pitt track on there to counteract shania, and gorgeous felt very much a self-explanatory choice (in that. i'm furious)
you're SO right about luna!! my GOD his moonsongs will see me through for sure
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dizzybevvie · 2 years
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My mum abt to slag off the family members Im closest too for no reason
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patchworkpuzzle · 2 years
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The amount of tired I am from just spending a few hours with some friends last night is astonishing
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eloves-writes · 5 months
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careful who you’re talking to
[coriolanus snow x reader]
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desc: snow hears a conversation with the academy boys about the girl he is secretly seeing and wants them to know who you belong to warnings: snow being snow like fr (toxic, controlling, insane, blah blah blah), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, unwarranted sexual comments about reader behind her back, she/her pronouns used, reader is wearing a dress, if i need to add any other warnings please lmk a/n: hiiiii! i'm back again. this is slightly unhinged and i didn't mean for it to be this unhinged but anyway hope u enjoy, send any and all coriolanus requests my way! mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni
it was a cold night in the capitol, and you were steadily sipping a glass of posca to keep warm in your blood-red dress. the silky material was slit up your leg and cut down to reveal just the right amount of cleavage; you might feel a chill but you looked damn good and everybody knew it.
especially coriolanus snow. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently- behind bookshelves in the library, in dark corners of the academy halls, bend over desks in empty classrooms. it had begun as purely physical. stress relief. but after a month or so, you had each caught feelings for the other and were struggling with whether or not to admit it. and in that moment, he was also struggling tremendously to take his eyes off of you.
you stood talking across the room with arachne and livia, unable to concentrate on whatever meaningless gossip they were discussing with the feeling of coriolanus’ ice blue eyes on you; there was an electric thrill passing between you like you were connected with a live wire. to say your relationship so far had been hot and heavy would be an extremely severe understatement, and you found your mind constantly occupied with the thought of him touching you and the need to have him touch you again.
-
“i think y/n is checking me out,” festus creed smirked to the group of boys around him.
coriolanus almost snorted in amusement. you were obviously looking at him, and only him.
“something funny, snow?” gaius asked sharply. “jealous, perhaps?”
snow reserved his irritation. “not at all, breen.”
“whoever she is looking at,” felix stated earnestly, “i’m certainly jealous of them. i mean, just look at her. she looks fucking hot.”
festus nodded in agreement. “i’d love to rip that dress off of her. she acts so innocent, but you just know she likes it rough.”
coriolanus felt his blood boil. you were his. how dare they talk about you like you were a common whore? perhaps you did like it rough. he would know, he was the one fucking you. not these basic capitol losers. none of them could make you scream the way he did. none of them had scratches down their backs beneath their shirts from your nails. only he did. only he ever would, and he would make sure it stayed that way.
the other boys laughed, agreeing with festus. adding on their own ideas. detailing the ways they’d make you fuck them. describing the times you had supposedly sent them signals. assuming that you did not already belong to snow, that you would even think about going near them. that you would get on your knees for them like you always did for coriolanus.
he couldn’t listen to them any longer. “she’s seeing somebody,” he jeered, fixing the cuffs of his jacket and making definitive, unquestionable eye contact with you and subtly tilting his head towards the exit.
festus laughed incredulously. “is she now? i think we’d have heard.”
oh you’ll hear it alright.
“yes,” coriolanus replied with a chilling calm, watching you make your way to the door. “if you’ll excuse me.”
-
on the steps outside the ridiculously grand building, you waited patiently for snow to follow you out. it was only a few minutes before you heard the door open again, turning to face corio and immediately sensing anger. you worried, sometimes, about his anger. you knew he wouldn’t seriously harm you, but the same could most certainly not be said for any others who dared cross his path. the future president of panem could only afford so much blood on his hands.
“what’s wrong, coriolanus?” you asked gently.
he inhaled deeply and stared into your eyes in a way that strongly suggested you would be unable to walk the next morning. you waited for him to answer.
“you shouldn’t have worn that dress," he warned.
“what?”
“you heard me.”
either the cold or a fucked up part of you sent shivers down your spine, hairs standing up on your neck. your underwear dampened at his fury.
“i thought you would like it, corio,” you flirted, stepping closer to him. he placed a large, firm hand on your waist.
“i do like it, y/n,” he said before speaking in a low voice. “i would like it better if you took it off.”
you smiled and leaned up to kiss him, but he turned his head. you pulled a face in protest.
“behave,” he spat. “so desperate. do you not want to know why you shouldn’t have worn this?”
“yes, corio,” you replied, doing your best impression of somebody who wasn’t about to throw yourself on top of him. he liked when you were patient.
“because every man in that room wants to see it on their bedroom floor," he attested lowly.
“and you’re jealous,” you smirked.
coriolanus suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair and roughly pulled your head backwards so that your face was tilted towards his. “and nobody else should be looking at you like that.”
a jolt of excitement ran through you. “corio-”
he gave your hair another tug. “say you’re mine.”
“am i yours?”
he realised instantly the meaning of your question. he didn’t have to think about his reply; he had thought about it every waking moment since the day you met. “you’re mine. say it.”
“i’m yours.”
“good girl,” snow spoke deeply before kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. without breaking apart from your lips, coriolanus guided you around to the side of the building. he counted the windows you passed until finally stopping by one that was cracked open and pushing you against the cold wall. as he removed his jacket and unfastened his belt, he looked inside the hall and you assumed he was checking no one was looking. he wasn’t. he was making sure that festus creed and the other boys were still stood in the same spot; directly in front of this particular window, and far enough from the rest of the partygoers that only the boys would hear you.
you gathered the skirt of your dress at your waist and wrapped your legs around corio’s sturdy form as he reached to move your underwear to the side. he circled your clit until you were practically whimpering, then slid two fingers inside of you.
“corio, feels so good,” you moaned softly.
he kept his same pace with his fingers, fucking you into a state of bliss where he knew you would be uninhibited and so drunk with his stimulation that people would think you’d finished every glass of posca in this stupid party. coriolanus was too good at what he was doing, you were on the edge of release within minutes and still desperately trying to quiet yourself in the name of dignity.
“corio, please, corio, i’m so close,” you whimpered into his neck.
he pulled away his hand, making you whine in displeasure. he liked to do that. liked to know he was in complete control of you, you would only cum when he willed it.
corio looked through the window again, but the boys had yet to hear anything out of the ordinary. they were still laughing amongst themselves. he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, using the slick on from your pussy to stroke himself before he pushed inside of you.
you tried again to stay quiet, but coriolanus began to coax you. “look at you, taking me so well. you wouldn’t let anybody else fuck you like this, would you? who makes you feel this good, huh?”
you couldn’t hold back anymore, his beautiful face spewing such foul things whilst fucking you raw and digging his fingertips into your flushed skin. “you do, corio. fuck,” you moaned, loudly enough that festus turned to look outside.
coriolanus smirked as they made eye contact. the initial confusion about the sounds coming from outside, the look of shock as he realised his classmate was balls deep in a girl he had pushed against the exterior of a building in the damn capitol, his face finally dropping as he realised who corio was fucking by the colour of your messed up hair and the visible strap of your dress, his eyes widening as he heard the things snow was saying to you.
your moans were getting louder too as you got even closer to your orgasm, whimpering corio’s name and repeating “i’m yours,” like a mantra.
snow took his gaze from the boys to you, feeling satisfied that he’d proved his point and starting to performatively enjoy himself, knowing yours weren't the only eyes on him. his pace quickened, driving you over the edge and making you clench around him as you came. he moaned aloud himself as continued to fuck you through your high and the overstimulation that came after until he finished inside of you.
you were completely fucked out, relishing the feeling of snow’s cum beginning to drip down your thighs after he swiftly removed your underwear to fold into his back pocket. he picked his discarded jacket up from the floor and placed it over your shoulders, kissing your head and leading you to the front of the building and helping you into a car which would take you both home. before you walked away from the window though, coriolanus smoothly pulled your lace panties from his pocket and waved them nonchalantly in the night air, catching the attention of the rest of the group. you would never have to know why he fucked you, only that the boys would stop bothering you now they knew who you belonged to.
3K notes · View notes
hoonvrs · 9 months
Text
21st CENTURY GIRL — p. jongseong
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PAIRING jay x fmr
SYNOPSIS where jay 'claims’ he has a girlfriend but none of his friends believe him because how are you a girl in the 21st century and don't have any social media, right? and if you and jay continue to let them think your relationship is fake for entertainment purposes, nobody has to know.
GENRE smau, fluff, est. relationship, crack
FEATURING (enha) all
WARNINGS swearing, kys/kms jokes, friendly bullying, sex jokes, nobody believing jay ( more will be added if necessary )
STATUS complete
TAGLIST ( CLOSED )
S. NOTE this is planned to be a short smau since the idea isn’t really suitable to be long but i hope u enjoy anyways mwah
also please don’t spam like as it shadowbans me and lessens engagement <3
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PROFILE lightning mcqueefs
CHAPTERS
01 okay piss boy
02 galentines*
03 wtf bro
04 did the voices tell you that
05 fuck WHAT
06 brick tennis with tt a cat
07 be fucking for jinja
08 fowl play :3
09 crazy? i was crazy once…
10 no YOU have attachment issues
11 knee moan ya
12 don’t worry about it
13 cuh dey bord
14 je suis le bug de l'an 2000 whiz whiz
15 sacrificial lamb duh
16 nurse he’s out again
17 OUR girl
18 oh my bad gang
19 now break up.
20 tie my laces bitch
↳ extra: random
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copyright © hoonvrs 2023 all rights reserved
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strang3lov3 · 10 months
Text
For Science
Soft!Joel Miller x Fem Reader
Summary: Joel’s heart breaks at your misery when you’re on your period, so he does what he can to alleviate your pain. 
Warnings: Fluff, smut, blowjobs, fingering, awkward Joel and Reader, period cramps, period sex, unprotected PIV. sweet sweet joel. Mutual pining
W/C: 4k
A/N: For all the menstruating Joel girlies, this one’s for you. And me too, because this shit fucking sucks. Admittedly this is very self indulgent. This isn't my favorite fic, but I hope you guys like it anyway. I feel like it's devoid of a lot of typical period fic tropes so I am unsure if y'all will enjoy. Have a great weekend!
btw, send me an ask or comment if you aren't tagged and would like to be! mwah kisses love you all <3
masterlist
as always, please leave me a comment or reblog if you liked the story! i am desperately in need of validation
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Knock knock knock. “You okay in there? Haven’t seen you at all today, honey,” Joel asks as your door swings open slightly. His brows are knit together and his soft eyes are big and worrisome.
Joel hates seeing you like this. You’re huddled with your knees curled into your chest on your bed, trying to will away the pain. Your hands are clutching your stomach, you’re quietly moaning in agony. 
“I think I’m getting sick,” you rasp out, your voice weak. It started with a dull ache in the pit of your stomach that didn’t seem to leave. Then came the nausea. 
“Sick, hm? Can I come in?” Joel asks you. You nod yes, and the door opens wider. His footsteps are soft towards the bed as he sits next to you. “Let me check you for a fever?”
You nod again, not having much energy to use your voice. Joel places a palm first on your forehead, then your cheek. Not satisfied with the results, he repeats the action with the back of his hand. It’s such an unexpectedly sweet and caring gesture, your eyes prick with tears. 
“Not terribly warm,” he mumbles. And then it catches his eye: that rusty bloodstain on your bed, heavy and concentrated to a few square inches. He leans over to check your backside, where he finds the stain mirrored on your pants. “Think you started your period, honey.” he whispers. 
The cramps and nausea feel all too familiar now. 
You hadn’t had a period since the beginning of your trek across the country with Joel and Ellie. Not that it was a super regular occurrence before that, but you often gave your food to the younger girl. Being so malnourished, your period disappeared. It was a welcome exit, your period was always exceptionally painful and miserable for you. 
“Oh,” you move your hand to your ass and press your fingers into where you think the bloodstain should be. And yup, there it is. “Shit.” you grumble, looking at the matching bloodstain on your blanket. The last thing you wanted to do today was laundry. 
Your cheeks heat up slightly. Hiking halfway across the country with someone, modesty is usually thrown out the window. You and Joel have seen each other in all sorts of intimate states, too intimate for the type of relationship you share. But still, you can’t help but be slightly embarrassed.
He must see your blush. “Hey, it’s alright,” Joel assures you softly. “I was gonna go over to Tommy and Maria’s anyway to do some laundry. Why don’t you let me wash your blanket and those clothes, hmm?”
“You really don’t have to, Joel,”
He ignores your gentle protesting. “Nonsense. I’m gonna give ya some privacy for a second, leave what you want washed outside your door. I’ll be back in a few hours,” 
You smile gently, scolding him in your mind. He doesn’t need to be doing all of this for you. He smiles back, warm and shy, before exiting your room and shutting the door behind him. 
You strip, changing into some sweats and fresh panties. In the bathroom are some reusable pads made from old towels that Maria gifted you when you first arrived in Jackson with Joel and Ellie. She gave the last menstrual cup to Ellie, who’s at school today. You put on a pad, toss your soiled clothing outside the door, and curl up with a book on your bed.
Joel lets himself inside Tommy and Maria’s home. Yes, there’s a community laundromat. But those often require socializing, which Joel is not much a fan of. Tommy and Maria generously offered you and Joel their to use washer and dryer instead.
He places the basket of laundry on top of the dryer and begins filling the washer with your clothes and blankets, none of his own, and sprinkles in some detergent. 
Joel lied. He did his laundry yesterday. But he knew how ill you were feeling, and Joel, ever the gentleman, decided to take it upon himself to take care of this for you. The grumpy asshole did have a heart after all. 
“Back so soon?” A voice interrupts. Joel turns to look, it’s Maria standing in the kitchen with her baby on her hip. “Didn’t you do laundry yesterday?”
“I did, yeah,” Joel responds. 
Maria notices your soiled panties sitting on top of the blanket she recognizes as yours in the washer. “She got her period, I’m guessing?”
Joel nods. “Yeah, figured I’d take care of the laundry for her,” “Well aren’t you kind,” Maria says, impressed. Not many guys would take care of washing a woman’s period-bloodied clothing. “I thought she might be starting soon. Noticed yesterday at the dining hall she was complaining of cramps and such. She also seemed a little moodier than usual.”
Joel shuts the lid and turns on the washer. “I thought so too,” he agrees. “She was a little irritable.”
Maria puts on a pot of coffee and offers Joel a cup, to which he accepts. For a while they talk about Tommy, then their new baby. When the washer finishes, Joel moves the clothes and blanket to the dryer. 
“I can drop those off for you if you’d like,” Maria offers. “You may wanna get back and make sure your girl’s doing okay.”
“That’d be great, I was actually thinkin’ the same thing,” Joel thanks Maria. “You don’t have any pain meds, do you? Poor thing looks terrible. She’s all curled up into herself, barely speakin’ to me.”
“No, I don’t, unfortunately,” 
Joel sighs. “How do you deal with it, then? Cramps and all that,”
“Well, a warm bath always helps. So does a heating pad if she has that,” Maria says. 
Joel nods his head. “Is there anything else? Tea? Somethin’, anything. I mean, this girl is absolutely miserable,”
“Well,” Maria starts, unsure if she’s ready to reach this level of personal with her brother-in-law. “Orgasms.”
Joel sputters into his mug as he chokes on the coffee in his mouth. “Pardon?”
“Yeah, orgasms. Have sex with her. It’s what I recommend to all the women here. It does help the cramps subside, at least for a bit,” Maria says. Joel’s face drops, his eyes go wide. “What, are you afraid of blood or something? You’re washing her bloody clothes…”
“No, no. It’s uh, it’s not that. We aren’t…we’ve not…”
Maria stops Joel, understanding. “My apologies. I thought you guys were together like that. Well, God gave women fingers for a reason,” she says, very matter of factly.
Joel blushes, images of you and your wandering fingers flooding his imagination. “Got it,” is all he says. No fucking way in hell he’s going to tell you to masturbate to alleviate your cramps. That can most definitely be a conversation between you and Maria another time, when Joel is far away from you both.
He awkwardly says goodbye then, making his way back to your shared home. Maria sends him home with some potato soup, instructing him to heat it up for you. It’s good comfort food, she says. 
In your bedroom, you look to be in about the same position as you were before. Whimpering in pain, rocking your body back and forth in the fetal position. Anything to shake the hurt away. 
“Hey darlin’, Maria gave me some potato soup to heat up for you. Can I make you some?” Joel’s back in your doorway, his tall frame leaning across the rickety old wood. 
“No, thank you,” you whisper. “Not really hungry.” “Figures. That’s alright. Anything else I can do?”
No, you tell him. Not unless he’s willing to be your human body pillow. This entire time you’ve been bleeding, you’ve been aching for comforting touches. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, warm hands pressing on your lower tummy. The other hand holding your own, thumb tracing back and forth on your skin. Soft kisses on your forehead, your hair. You just want to be loved, gently. The way you so deserve. 
Joel turns to leave then, just about shutting the door behind him. 
Maybe…
“Joel?” you call out.��
“What’s up, honey?” 
“I was just wondering if you’d maybe hold my hand. Just for a second,”
Joel smiles sadly through the crack of the door. “Of course,” he says tenderly, like it shouldn’t have even been a question on your mind. Of course he’ll hold your hand.  He meets you at the bed, sitting awkwardly next to you. He offers you his hand, which you take in both of yours. It’s dry and calloused, but so warm and comforting. “Squeeze me as hard as you need, alright? I can handle it.” Joel adjusts slightly so he’s laying next to you, his other hand stroking your hair. He smiles to himself, small and genuine. 
A wave of ache overtakes your body, beginning in your abdomen and spreading up your chest and down your thighs. Your breasts are heavy and swollen and aching angrily. You groan in agony. “Fuck,” you whimper. 
“What hurts? Where?”
“Everywhere,” you cry. Your hands leave his, and they find their way to his torso. You grasp his sides in your fists and squeeze, but he doesn’t complain. It doesn’t hurt, and even if it did, you’re hurting worse. In truth, he’s savoring the warmth your bodies create together. He loves being able to comfort you like this. 
Joel wraps his arms around your back, dragging his fingertips up and down your spine. “You’re breakin’ my heart, honey,” he whispers. “Let me help you. What can I do?” he asks, hot breath tickling your ear.
“I don’t think you want to,” you murmur.
“Try me,”
You sigh, sitting up on his chest slightly. “Can you…massage me? My chest?” 
Joel’s breath hitches and he shuffles awkwardly. “I suppose,” he starts. 
“I’m sorry. I just need your strong hands, I tried doing it myself but–”
“No, yeah. Of course,” Joel interrupts. He’s at a loss for words, more filthy images of you flooding his mind. Just like before, at Maria’s. “It’s what friends are for, right?” He cringes inwardly at the word he uses. Friends. 
“You’re too good to me,” you mumble. 
“Nonsense, honey,” he hushes you. “Sit up, turn around. I’ve got you.” 
You trust Joel completely. He can be rough around the edges, but you know how soft and nurturing he is on the inside. Joel is meant for this, taking care of the people he loves. 
He spreads his legs and you lean back into the soft warmth of his torso, holding onto his denim clad thighs. He’s awkward to start, still unsure of how to do this, exactly. You take his hands and drag them up, up your tummy, stopping for a second to savor the heat from his palms radiating through to your abdomen, then continue pushing them up your body. You stop just before your breasts, his thumbs lightly tracing the soft flesh of your tits.
“You ready?” he asks, his voice steady and calm but slightly nervous. He wonders if you can hear the way his voice is wavering slightly. 
“Mhm,” you mumble. 
And then he gets to work. Gently, timidly, he runs his hands over the soft flesh of your breasts, then your nipples. You groan at the contact on your sensitive buds. He squeezes gently, then increases pressure experimentally. He can feel how swollen you are as he explores every inch of your chest. 
“Doin’ alright?” he asks, fingers and thumbs digging deep into your breasts. He massages you intently and with such tenderness, his gentle caretaking instincts taking over. 
It hurts so fucking good. The ache is amplified yet dissipates with each motion of his palms. “Yeah, harder. Don’t stop,” you plead desperately. 
Joel swallows thickly and increases pressure again. “Like this?”
“Just like that, Joel. So good,”
God, how sinful you sound. Whimpering and moaning for him, begging for more. Shit, not now. Not fucking now, he thinks as his cock begins to harden under you. “Fucking moron,” he whispers. 
“What?” 
Joel freezes. “Shit. I uh, wasn’t callin’ you a moron. Sorry,” he apologizes gruffly. “It’s me. I’m the moron.”
“Why are you a moron?”
“I’m gettin’ a bit hard. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He feels heat rise up his neck and to his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to.”
“My tits are in your hands, Joel, I get it. I don’t mind,” you assure him. You feel his cock half hard, pressing into your lower back and you shift a little. You both notice how he grows harder at your adjustment.
Joel chuckles awkwardly, trying to break the tension. “I’m only a man, hon. Can’t help it,” 
“You’re okay, Joel. I promise,” You chuckle with him, sighing and resting your head back on his chest again as he starts massaging you once more. The stubble on his jaw tickles your face, his chest rises and falls with every second. You share a moment in the silence, made slightly awkward by Joel’s arousal. You wince as another strong cramp overtakes your body, and you curl up into Joel.
“Cramps?”
“Cramps,” you mumble. “I don’t think you can massage those away, though.”
“No, probably not,” he mumbles. “Not with my hands, at least.”
“With what, then?”
Did he really just say that? You really are a fucking moron, Miller. 
“At Maria’s today, she told me a way to alleviate cramps,” he starts, speaking slowly, like he’s whispering a secret that’s not his to tell. 
“How?”
“Orgasms,” he whispers stiffly. He presses his lips together in a thin line and looks up towards the ceiling. 
“Oh,”
“I could give you some privacy if you wanted to try that out,” he mumbles. 
“Why would you do that?” you turn to look at Joel, who is bashful and looking down. He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, and you continue, “Didn’t you just say you could make the cramps go away, just not with your hands?”
“W-well, yeah, but,” he stutters. 
“I have been so fucking horny. And you’re hard too, so,”
Joel’s eyebrow is still raised, he’s eyeing you suspiciously. “Are you askin’ what I think you’re askin’?”
“You already washed my bloody panties. I’m guessing blood isn’t an issue for you,”
“No, no. ‘Course not. You want me to fuck you?”
“Yeah, you know. For science. For the sake of experimentation,”
Joel smirks mischievously. “Nothin’ wrong with a little experimentin’,” he agrees. You smile at the twang of his Texas accent. 
You share another awkward moment, both unsure of how to continue this scientific endeavor. Joel makes the first move this time. “Come here,” he breathes, lifting you into his lap. “Kiss me.”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, intertwining your fingers in the grey-brown curls at the base of his neck. His hands are on your waist, holding you steady with your thighs straddling his. He leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips are slightly chapped but so deliciously soft and warm against yours. He tastes like himself and nothing more, but his taste is addictive nonetheless. 
You grind your pelvis into his bulge, whimpering at the contact on your sensitive heat. You’re craving more than his kisses, needing to feel all of him. His weight on your body, his skin on yours. His member deep inside you, massaging that spot that makes your head spin. “More,” you whine. 
He hums in amusement against your lips, thrusting his hips into yours. Cheeky motherfucker. 
You swat his arm lightly. “Don’t tease, Joel. I need you,”
“I know ya do. Let’s get you warmed up then, hm?” you nod hurriedly, leaning back. Joel pulls you back in for a kiss, his hand snaking under both your sweatpants and panties. “This alright?”
“Yes, fuck,” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers dip further, gathering your wetness and circling back up to your clit. He traces slow, steady circles into your bud, taking his time with you. He pushes his middle two fingers deep inside you, fingers curling up and hitting that sweet spot. You gasp and whimper into his mouth. 
Joel loves taking his time with you. Playing with your body like a musical instrument, eliciting moans and whimpers from deep inside. Watching you dance for him, falling to pieces under his touch. 
“So pretty like this,” he praises you. 
You kiss him again and hop off his lap, he pulls his hand away from your core, quickly hiding it from your sight. He doesn’t need you feeling any shame or embarrassment of your body doing what it was meant to do. “Get a towel?” you ask him. 
“‘Course, honey,” Joel sits up and grabs a towel from the linen closet, then walks back to your room. He shuts and locks the door behind him before laying the towel down on the bed. You stand up to meet him, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling off his shirt. He does the same to you, helping you out of your sweats and shirt. You quickly sit down on the towel and he stands before you, cock rock hard, admiring all of the curves of your figure. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”
You blush and reach forward to pull him to you. “So are you,” you tell him earnestly. He steps toward you and pushes you back, getting ready to enter you. You put a hand on his chest to stop him. 
“Is everything okay?” his dark brown eyes are big and full of worry. 
“Of course,” you say. “I’m not ready yet. I wanted to taste you,” you admit.
Joel smirks.  “You’re the one bleedin’ and cryin’ in pain, and you wanna taste me?”
You smile back. “For science, right?”
“Sure, sweetheart. For science,” Joel sits next to the towel, you lean over his lap and get ready to take him into your mouth. “Ah ah ah,” he tuts, “Like this.” Sitting next to him on the towel, he instructs you to face him and spread your legs. This way, he says, he can take care of you too. 
You lean over, making sure your heat is still accessible to him. Joel leans back onto the pillows and lets you get to work, his fingers tracing up your thigh before meeting your center once more. Your lips part around his member, tracing the soft and warm skin with your tongue. You moan when his fingers enter you again, voice sending vibrations through his cock. “Fuck, honey,” he groans. 
You play with each other like that for a while, Joel working you open with his fingers and you taking him further and further down your throat. His cock twitches, engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth. 
“Stop, stop,” he begs. “Not gonna last.”
You pull off of him with a pop, and his hands leave your body. You whine at the loss. 
“I know,” he soothes. “C’mere.” Once again, you’re in his lap, hovering over his cock. It’s held loosely between his fingers, tip prodding at your entrance. “Ready?” he asks you, his sparkly brown eyes are looking up at you, his eyebrows raised in anticipation.
“I need you,” you whisper desperately. And with that, Joel notches the tip at your entrance, carefully studying your features to make sure it’s not too much, not too fast, not painful. You steady yourself on his shoulders, fingernails indenting his skin. He pulls your hips down slowly, letting you savor every inch of him. He bottoms out with a deep sigh, and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his. 
“Wait,” he interrupts. You frown with concern, and he bucks his hips up. You let out a yelp, partially in pleasure, partially in surprise. Joel pulls the towel under you both. “There.”
You giggle. “Good idea,” you whisper. You stare down at him, a slight smile on his lips. You start to roll your hips, letting your clit brush the thick tuft of dark hair at the base of his cock. You whimper at the feeling. 
“Feel good, baby?” Joel asks expectedly. 
“So good, Joel” you assure him. “You feel so good,”
Joel pulls your body down to his, letting you rest on your knees. He thrusts into you rhythmically, letting you relax against him. “Fuck, you feel nice, honey. Knew you would,”
You moan and cry, kissing and whimpering into his neck. Using your sounds and the way your body reacts to his touch, he fucks you hard, intently, but gently at the same time. It’s delicious. 
You rock your hips, bouncing on his cock to match each of his thrusts. He hits that sweet spot in you repeatedly, he can feel your walls squeezing him, hear your moans becoming quicker, more frantic. “God, you’re sensitive,” he says. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Fuck, yes,” you whimper. “M’close, need t-to come,” 
“You can let go,” he speaks softly, voice low and gravelly. “Come for me, baby,”
You lean back, lifting your hips slightly to give his fingers access to your clit. He takes the hint and begins circling your sensitive bud once more. It doesn’t take long before you’re falling apart on his cock, your cries and moans muffled as you bite into his shoulder. 
“That’s it,” he coos, fucking you through it. 
You try to take a second to catch your breath, steady yourself, only Joel has something different in mind. He doesn’t stop fucking your pussy, overworked and overstimulated. Within minutes, you’re coming again, your pussy making a beautiful crimson mess on his pelvis and fingertips. Still fucking you, he watches you come like you’re a work of art in a museum. Taking in every detail, every twitch of your face, the way your mouth drops in pleasure, how your tits bounce with each thrust. 
“Too much, Joel,” you cry. “S’too much, please.”
“You give me one more, baby. C’mon now, want you to come with me,”
“I can’t,” you pant. “I can-” 
“Yes, you can,” he encourages firmly. His voice is sweet but stern, and it is clear your pleasure is not to be negotiated. You will come again. “One more, one more. S’all you gotta do.”
“Fuck, Joel,” 
“I know, you’re doin’ so good f’me,” 
It’s almost painful, but you focus on the pleasure building once again deep inside you. You rock your hips, grinding your clit on the pads of Joel’s calloused fingertips. Right there, right there…
“You’re makin’ such a pretty mess of this cock, darlin’. Wanna fill you up, baby,”
His sweet talking sends you reeling, you love the way he praises you. “M’close again,” 
“Right there with ya, baby,” he soothes. His thrusts are frenzied, cock throbbing inside you. “Now, baby,” he commands. “Fuck, need you to come now.”
Moans and cries spill out of your mouth like liquid sugar, thick and sweet and slow. You come on Joel’s cock for a third time, your body melting into his own. He comes with you, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours to create the most beautiful sounds to fill the room. His voice is deep and desperate, sounding like pure sex as he paints your insides with rope after rope of his seed. 
You slink on top of him, focusing on catching your breath. His skin is sticky and sweaty as he holds you in a tight embrace, his heaving chest lifting you up and down. He pulls out of you, a mess of your fluids dripping onto the towel. You curl up next to him, your head on his chest.
“Cramps?” he asks. 
You shake your head. “All better,” you pause, then speak. “But hold me some more? Please?”
“‘Course, honey. For science, right?”
You smirk. “For science,”
You lay like that for what feels like hours, Joel stroking your back tenderly. One of his strong arms wrapped around your body, his warm hand pressing into your back. His other hand is holding your own, fingers squeezing you comfortingly, thumb tracing back and forth. He presses soft kisses to your forehead, your lips. He’s loving you gently, sweetly, the way you so deserve.
tags: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl
3K notes · View notes
churipu · 4 months
Note
hii ive been obsessed with your work lately and I hope ur doing well! make sure not to overwork yourself!! Anyways can u make a nanami headcanon where s/o comes home late because she’s working overtime but forgets to tell him?
COMING HOME LATE TO NANAMI ₊˚⊹
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featuring. nanami kento x reader
warnings. none
note. haiii nonniee, thank you so much for appreciating my works. it means so much to me <33 i'm sorry this one took so long and i hope you like it, mwah mwah
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i feel like in the relationship, nanami tries to talk you to quit your job before — but you felt like it was kind of unfair if he had to use his money to support you, so you always managed to decline that. even if the male was a bit disappointed at your decision, he didn't want to force you, so he lets you be.
you didn't have a cursed energy; a non-sorcerer. unlike him, you had a simple job of making coffees, alias a barista. the income was not too much, but still enough for the both of you (although nanami always ends up paying for your stuff because he insists).
the job wasn't too tiring, however today was a bit different — the store had gotten a rush hour in the afternoon, not that you were complaining about it as you signed up for the job anyways. and a co-worker had asked you to cover their shift because they had an family emergency.
really, you didn't mind covering for them at all. you were getting an extra for that and it counts — just it meant that you were going to be the closing shift for today, and everyone knows closing up meant it would be a lot of work; especially with the washing, cleaning up, mopping the floors, the coffee machines, everything.
you ended up closing the shop late at night, rushing to your shared apartment with nanami. opening the door in exhaustion, calling out a tired, "i'm home."
"y/n?" nanami appears from the corner, rushing towards you and then cupping your face.
in confusion you blinked at him, wondering what the hell was happening and why was he acting like this?
"you never texted or answered my calls, i was worried," he mumbles out, and it finally dawned upon you that during your shift — it was too busy that you hadn't managed to get to your phone at all. and it was on silent too.
"i'm sorry, baby. i had to cover up for my co-worker's shift, it was my mistake for not telling you," you smiled at him, planting a kiss on his lips.
nanami shook his head, "it's alright, please inform me next time," he kissed your forehead before pulling you into a tight hug, "how was work?"
"you won't believe how busy it is today, surprising. but it was fun, and i'm getting extra paycheck for covering my co-worker's shift!" you marveled out happily, and he gazes down at you fondly, kissing the crown of your head.
"i'm glad then," he mumbles out to you, "if i tell you to stop—"
"still a no from me," you kicked your shoes off and walked towards the living room, sparing him a cheeky smile, "i like working, plus, it's not fair that you have to waste your money for my livings too."
nanami heaves out a sigh, "my money is your money."
but he didn't push on, what mattered is that you enjoy working. nanami will undoubtedly still pay for your things, telling you that you should just save your paychecks incase he goes broke (which will never happen).
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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satoruxx · 10 months
Note
hey bestie <333
congratulations on 200 followers !! you deserve it and more !! 🫶
im thinking some Gojo fluff inspired by After Last Night by Silk Sonic? I love that whole album and I always get gojo vibes from it 🥹
love you and congrats again ‼️🥰
pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1.1k words summary: fluff, lots of pining, slightly suggestive due to implied 18+ content, satoru is whipped as he should be, he's just a lil guy pls give him a hug he has sm love he wants to share !! a/n: RAHHH casey this request was sm fun i love this song and it absolutely gives satoru vibes !! anyways ty for being my number one supporter babes. i hope you enjoy this @novasatoru mwah ily <33
satoru considers himself to be rational. even though he can be loud, excessive, dramatic, he has always been rational. most people don’t know or understand all the detailed thought he puts behind every decision he makes. all because of his rationality.
sure, sometimes he can be a little reckless, but not in a way that is irrational. he’s reckless in childish ways, ways that make him seem obnoxious and yet frustratingly endearing.
but he’s not reckless like this. not irrational like this.
satoru’s not reckless so he knows it can’t be possible that you’re here, in his bed, naked skin just barely covered by his sheets. he knows it can’t be possible that you’re here first thing in the morning because there’s no way you went to bed with him the previous night. he knows, for sure, that he couldn’t have crossed all the lines he set with you for years in just a matter of minutes.
but the purpled bruises littering your skin, the scattered clothing across his bedroom floor, and the warmth of your bare body pressing against him tells him enough.
he’s speechless for a second, mind going haywire as he tries to remember what exactly happened and how he could’ve been so careless. years and years of friendship with you, all changed in a matter of one night.
you were always supposed to be one of his closest friends. sure, he would pay any price to see you smile and sure, he’d gladly take your side over anyone else’s.
and obviously, satoru would destroy the whole world if you so much as batted your eyes at him and said please.
but that’s normal because he is your best friend.
but no where in his plans did he ever think to cross this line. after so many moons of pushing back his less than appropriate thoughts. after wondering how good your lips would taste as you sweetly whispered his name. after all of that, he didn’t think his self control would dissipate like this.
there’s a brief memory of the previous night, tipsy words of confession and sloppy passionate kisses, that sends his mind reeling.
he’s pulling himself out of bed in an instant, slipping his clothes on and hoping they somehow manage to ground him because god, it feels like his head is floating.
he’s choosing to ignore how fantastic his heart feels to see you curled up in his bed like that, hair splayed across his pillows like you’ve always belonged there.
instead satoru steps into his kitchen, snowy bangs resting across his forehead as he tries to figure out what he’s going to say to you when you wake up. honestly he’s a little worried himself. how would you react? would you tell him you made a mistake or would you be angry at him for letting it happen?
truthfully he’s never cared much about other people’s feelings, but yours somehow have the power to impact his whole day.
he figures that he can live with it, if you think it was a mistake. he’d be pathetically heartbroken, he realizes, but your comfort matters most to him. and if all he was destined for in this life was your friendship, he’d never do anything to jeopardize it. it’d be enough for him.
satoru doesn’t even realize he’s made two cups of coffee instead of one.
he steels himself, watching his murky reflection ripple in the mugs, and knowing that he would respect your wishes no matter how much it bothers him. he won’t say anything, because he'd rather silently live with his own idiotic feelings than risk losing you for good.
“morning.”
he almost jumps, unusually startled because only you could catch the man who saw the world through the Six Eyes off guard. any plans he’s made on what to say or how to say it fly straight out the door when he turns to look at you, his throat going dry as he takes you in.
you hair is mussed and your expression is still dazed, a sleepy pout on your face as you rub at your eyes. you blink at him slowly, an inquisitive little expression on your face as you pad over to him and peer at the stove. “you making food?”
he nods wordlessly, still a little breathless because gods above you’re wearing his shirt like it’s yours and his brain is in overdrive. it’s so hard to think, to even breathe, because satoru has wanted this for so long and it’s finally here like it had always been here in the first place. like it’s normal, regular.
“can i have some too, ‘toru? i’m really hungry.”
he has to take a minute to bask in the intimacy of this moment because it’s honestly making his thoughts stutter. “u-uh yeah, ‘course you can.” he’s handing you one of the mugs before he can even comprehend it, and you take it from him gratefully.
he feels oddly parched as he watches you take a sip, looking at him with dewy eyes over the rim, and he waits with bated breath as you open your mouth to speak. “did you sleep okay last night?”
it’s such an innocent question and he’s almost completely sure he shouldn’t be overthinking it like a fool but he knows it in his soul that he’s nothing if not a fool for you. you make every rational thought evaporate from his normally over calculating brain, make his body react without a touch, make his mouth move faster than his thoughts can.
and this time is no different.
“fuck i’m so in love with you.”
you blink up at him, and he’s cursing himself for even opening his mouth, but then you’re grinning up at him like he’s said the most endearing thing ever. “well i should hope so. i’d be pretty bummed if you told me you loved me last night and then woke up and changed your mind.”
satoru’s breath hitches, and he briefly wonders when and how he managed to confess his love for you the previous night, but then he realizes he doesn’t care all that much because you’re smiling at him like he puts the stars in your sky.
which for you, he absolutely would do.
so he does the only thing he feels is right for the moment. he bends down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, heartbeat unusually erratic as he feels you melt into him, before pulling back and giving you a cheeky smile. “i’m not even close to done loving you.”
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cheolhub · 11 months
Text
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TRY ME — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ࿐
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summary. you push your sweet boyfriend a little too far when you threaten to fuck his business partner at dinner. he decides to show both you and mingyu who you belong to.
wc. 4.3k
warnings. [PLEASE READ] established relationship. subby brat!reader, hard dom/brat tamer!cheol, car s2x. heavy degradation (use of bitch), sir kink, light choking, jealousy & possessiveness, dumb!fication, praise, heavy pet name use, unprotected s2x, edging, phone call w/ gyu during s2x, mentions of fucking mingyu several times (oops), male masturbation (mingyu is kind of a voyeur?), creamp!e — MINORS DNI 18+
note. mingyu is always at the scene of the crime, i fear. he kinda got fucked over in this tho, i apologize </3 i’ll make it up to him soon. ANYWAY @jeonghantis i love u, thank u for reading this over and being my biggest supporter 🩵
your feedback is sooo important to me, so comments and rbs are greatly appreciated <3333 mwah, enjoy :p
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“did you have a good time acting like a needy little whore?” seungcheol grits, hands gripping the steering wheel of his car harshly. you can practically see the skin of his knuckles losing color thanks to the dim street lights shining through his car. 
you sigh, shrugging, “could’ve had more fun if you’d fucked me like i asked.” your words were nothing if not nonchalant. you kept a cool front, but he knew you were acting like this to purposefully push his buttons. 
“and you could’ve waited till we got home, but you’re incapable of being good, aren’t you?” you could tell he was getting angrier by the second. he wouldn’t look at you, the tips of his ears were burning red, and he was huffing out nearly every breath. “you just had to embarrass me in front of all of my colleagues?”
you laugh humorlessly, “i would barely consider that as embarrassing. besides, it’s not my fault you couldn’t handle it.”
he scoffs incredulously, finally turning his head to look at you. “handle what? your hand rubbing my dick at the dinner table or slobbering all over my business partner like some bitch in heat when i denied you?” his question makes you bite your lip because, of course, it’s rhetorical. he knows you well enough to recognize you were doing both for his undivided attention. 
you flash a smile at him and he shakes his head, averting his attention back to the road. admittedly, he loves it when you get like this, all bratty and overly confident– but, god, you could be such a piece of work. 
but you’re almost positive that you love his possessiveness more than he loves when you’re a brat. your usually-cute boyfriend can be so fucking sexy when he wants to be. 
“mingyu could’ve fucked me in the bathroom, cheollie, you didn’t need to make us all leave early ‘cus of that.” your lips turn down in a faux pout. “bet he would’ve had a blast and you would’ve gotten all your little clients to make deals with you– could’ve been a win for all of us, no?”
you speak with a substantial amount of confidence laced in your words that it has him throbbing in his slacks out of jealousy and anger and burning desire to make you eat your words. he’s just about had it, ready to pull over and fuck you on the roof of his car. “better shut that pretty little mouth of yours.” he spits. “i’m not fucking playing with you, baby.”
you giggle at the warning, stomach churning with excitement and ruined panties soaking further. “or what? gonna pull over? fuck me like you own me?” you tease, hands gripping the ends of your dress as you shift in the excruciating puddle you’re sitting in. 
“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he holds back a groan, cock twitching because he knows he would. he’d honestly love to. he’d love to fuck you like you’re his little slut– make you cry and apologize for nearly ruining his night.
you shrug, “maybe… but i know you won’t though. maybe i should call gyu, i’m sure he’d fuck me anywhere i wanted. i mean, did you see him? he was so ready to just take me on the table in front of everyone when i asked him.” you feign sadness with a sigh and frown. “you’d never do that– you’re so cruel sometimes, cheollie.”
“mingyu couldn’t handle you.”
“so? it’s obvious you can’t either…” you lie because you know damn well it was you who couldn’t handle seungcheol. not the other way around. “you proved that at dinner.”
he scoffs. “is that so?” you’ve finally set him off. so much so that he’s deterring from his original route home. instead, you notice that he’s pulling into the next deserted lot he sees and parking his car. 
he turns off the engine, snapping his head to see you under the harsh lamp post lighting with your pupils blown out and your thighs squeezed together. “get in the back.” he demands, voice hard and stern. 
you realize you have him right where you want him, yet you tease anyway. he always fucks you the best when you’re on your absolute worst behavior.
when you don’t move, sitting there staring at him with a small smile on your face and thighs rubbing together slightly, his voice drops an octave. “pretty girl, you better do what i said and get in the back. told you i’m not fucking playing around anymore.” 
you shiver, pussy flooding at his voice. you undo your seatbelt but you don’t move any further than that. you’re having a hard time keeping the bratty facade when all your body wants is to submit to him, but you get your next words out somehow. “make me.” you grin, eyes dark with lust and desire.
his jaw ticks at your reply, evidently unhappy with your lack of manners. surely, he didn’t hear you correctly so he cocks his head and utters out, “excuse me?”
you lean in over the center console, hand on his thigh much like it was a couple hours prior at the dinner table. “i said, make me.”
and he did. make you, that is. everything after that was a blur that had your head spinning– you remember some things like how he wrapped his large hand around your throat and how he practically forced you into the backseat as you smiled cheekily at him. you remember how he pressed his lips to your ear while he had your face down and ass up, sweetly whispering ‘cherry’ against it to remind you of your safe word. you couldn’t forget how he ripped your favorite lace panties in half before pushing his fat cock into you.
now he’s fucking you stupid, slamming into you with brute force from behind with one hand holding your wrists against your back and the other on your head, pushing your hot face deeper into the more cool leather.
“this what you wanted? wanted me to be mean to you? wanted me to fuck you and treat you like some cheap whore?” he spits. “it is, isn’t it? pissing me off turns you on?”
you choke on a whine at his words and when you don’t give him a verbal response, he topples over you, drilling himself deeper into your tight cunt, hot breath fanning against your face. “i’m getting a bit tired of you not answering when i ask you a question, baby.” he growls and you swear your eyes roll back at his animalistic-like energy. 
“yes,” you get out, choked and breathy. 
he shakes his head, gritting, “yes what?”
“y-yes, sir… i wanted this.” you submit whimpering out your words as you’re on the brink of ecstasy. you even think you’re starting to drool on his seats, and cheol notices, of course, but he doesn’t have it in him to reprimand you. especially not when you look this fucked out all for him. 
he coos, lips brushing against the bare skin of your shoulder blade. “good girl,” he praises condescendingly. “so pretty when you’re being good f’me.”
cheol has learned, after months of being with you, that his cock always puts you back in your place. it always turns you into his sweetest, respectful, all-around good girl even though sometimes, like tonight, you don’t deserve it.
“and what about mingyu, hmm? what would he think if he saw you taking my cock like a slut in the backseat of my car?” his cock twitches at his own question because, yeah, he’d love for people to see you crying– drooling– for him and his dick. 
you can’t be bothered to think about mingyu when all you can think about is his cock filling you to the brim, hitting all the spots that make you weak. you moan out something incomprehensible about how you ‘don’t care,’ and how you ‘wanna cum.’  
seungcheol lets out an airy chuckle, head spinning from the way your gummy walls always hug him so tight. “no? you don’t wanna fuck him now?” 
“n-never did! just you!” you pant, clenching around him as you grow closer and closer with every thrust. 
an animalistic noise bubbles up in the back of his throat before he spits, “that’s ‘cuz you’re just my pretty little bitch, right?”
your eyes roll and your jaw goes slack as you try to nod your head in agreement. “god, yes. ‘m yours.”
“that’s right.” he lets out a soft moan when you tighten around him, “ is my baby close?” 
“yes! yes, sir, ‘m so close!” you sob, desperately pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. “gonna cum,” your warning makes cheol stop as he bites back a groan. 
“hold it.” he demands and when you let out a miserable cry, he simply shushes you. “‘m sorry, princess, but i can’t always give you what you want, especially not when you’ve been a slutty brat all night– you know that.” 
“‘m sorry! ‘m so so so sorry. please keep fucking me. please, please let me cum– i’ll do anything!” you desperately weep, tears free falling, soon to mix with the puddle of drool you’ve left on the seat. you have no pride or shame left as you attempt to push yourself back on to him. 
seungcheol smiles triumphantly at the mess he’s reduced you to. he almost feels like his actions are sadistic and, usually, he’d feel bad. usually.
he would never deliberately prolong your orgasm especially after you beg like that, but fuck, you’ve really got him in a mood tonight. acting the way you did tonight… that definitely accounts for some type of punishment. 
so his long arm reaches to grab his phone from the center console of his car all the while he’s still fully sheathed inside of your pulsing cunt. his voice drops another octave when his question comes out, “how bad do you wanna cum?”
you’re startled by his deep voice that seems to hold even more dominance than it did moments prior. a shiver runs its way through your body and you stutter out your response. “s-so bad, sir, wanna cum for you so bad.”
“mmm, and you’ll do anything to do so, yeah?” 
“yes! anything… please.”
the desperation in your voice evokes a shaky breath from him. he loves you when you’re a menace, but when you’re like this? all fucked out, drooling, and begging for his cock? it nearly turns him into a mess. regardless, no matter how much of a bratty front you put up– no matter how bent out of shape your attitude gets– he’ll always fuck you back into place. you’re at his mercy. you both know it. 
“alright, baby,” he starts gently, releasing his grip on your wrist using the free hand to ghost over the skin of your ass before grabbing a handful and massaging the flesh. “can you get on your hands for me?”
you nod eagerly, clenching around him instinctively at how quickly his demeanor can change. you do as he says, weakly moving your body till you’re on all fours with his dick still enveloped in your heat.
cheol unlocks his phone with his free hand, searching for his recent contacts. he places the phone next to your hand and you furrow your eyebrows at the action. 
the words ‘kim mingyu’ read on the screen and he smirks when you crane your head to look back at him. 
“w-what… what do you want me to do?” you stutter, though you’re sure you don’t really want to hear the answer to your question. 
his heavy hands continue to knead at your ass while he responds, voice barely above a whisper, “apologize to mingyu and i’ll let you cum.”
“but… won’t he… won’t he know what we’re doing?” you try to reason, but seungcheol knows. he knows that mingyu will know the second you utter your first word to him. 
that’s why he’s dead set on doing this. he needs mingyu to hear you getting wrecked on his cock– needs mingyu to know that you are his.
“don’t worry about that, baby. you’ll call him anyway, won’t you?” he slowly pulls an inch out of you before pushing back in, just barely fucking you. 
you whimper, nodding your head, “okay, okay. i will.” 
“good girl.” he praises, reveling in the way you tighten around him. 
your hand shakily presses the call button and you watch his name reappear on the dimmed screen. you press the speaker button and the sound of rings fill the car, but it doesn’t take long before he answers, his strained voice filling the silence.
“hello?” mingyu asks, clearing his throat. 
“hey mingyu,” cheol greets and you feel your entire body heat and tense up, a sharp exhale leaving your lips. “did you get home alright?”
“cheol…” you whimper lowly to keep the man on the phone from figuring you out but end up wincing at the tightening grip on your ass. you take it as a warning, biting your lip to keep from saying anymore. 
you tune out the conversation, trying to think of anything else but the burning fire in the pit of your tummy and the fact that cheol’s on the phone with his business partner whom you threatened to call up and fuck a mere 20 minutes ago. 
it isn’t until he slowly starts moving that you push your face into the leather seats to mask a whine– though it obviously doesn’t work much because you’re sure mingyu is well aware that you’re… present. 
“yeah, she’s here,” seungcheol smiles wickedly to himself as he replies to mingyu asking the obvious. “actually that’s why i called. she wanted to talk you– apologize for what happened earlier– isn’t that right, Y/N?”
you whimper again, suddenly changing your mind and shaking your head ‘no.’ this is way too embarrassing. 
cheol can’t resist the chuckle that comes out of his mouth. you’re cute. cute in the way your body betrays you when your pussy clenches tightly around him at the offer. cute when you say you don’t want to when your body says the exact opposite. 
“gimme a sec,” he says as his hand moves to press the mute button. “c’mon, don’t you wanna cum, baby?” he coos, snapping his hips against your ass at a steady pace.
“i do!.. i do, b-but he’s gonna know if y-you keep going.” you pant. “‘n i-i can’t talk to him like this.”
“oh, well maybe you should’ve thought of that, baby,” he says and you can hear the faux pout in his words. “if you wanna finish, you’ll have to apologize to him for being such a needy little thing all night.”
you shudder and nod defeatedly as seungcheol continues to thrust in and out of you. your hand moves to unmute the phone, taking a shaky inhale before you speak.
you try your best to sound as normal as possible, but your words still come out breathy and stuttered, “h-hello,” 
“Y/N?” mingyu calls, voice lilting a bit out of surprise. 
you involuntarily clench again at how taboo this whole situation is. how is cheol so okay with this? how will he ever face mingyu again? you know for a fact you won’t be able to without thinking about cheol’s cock stretching you out, but… then again, maybe that’s exactly what seungcheol wants.
“hi, gyu,” you greet, the nickname loosely slipping past your lips. you feel seungcheol’s hands grip at your waist again. rougher this time. like he wants to tell you something– stop being so friendly– just with his actions.
your eyes screw shut and your teeth dig into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip to omit the whiny sound from leaving your lips. 
it doesn’t go unheard, of course. you can practically hear your boyfriend’s smirk when mingyu asks, “are… are you okay?”
you laugh breathily, a whine dying on the tip of your tongue when seungcheol moves a bit faster. “yeah! no, i’m good! i-i’m great.” you just need to get this apology over with so you can hang up and finally get what you want. “listen, gyu, i– oh, fuck.”
clearly, seungcheol couldn’t let it be that easy, slamming into you like he was minutes earlier. the tip of his cock rams into your sweet spot and you find yourself barely holding on, seconds away from crumbling if he doesn’t let up. 
mingyu’s mouth runs dry and you know he’s finally pieced it all together when he exhales sharply, “Y/N? are you sure you’re okay?”
seungcheol rolls his eyes. he topples over you again, plush lips pressing against one of your heated ears, “answer him.”
“yes, yes…” you pant. “i-i wanted… to say sorry.” 
“tell him why you’re sorry.” cheol’s hot breath fans against your ear again. his thrusts don’t falter in this process, effectively hitting your spot over and over and over. 
it’s driving you crazy. beyond crazy, honestly. it’s driving you absolutely mad. so mad that you don’t even care about the sob that comes out of your mouth when you apologize to mingyu again. 
“‘m sorry! sorry for ruining dinner ‘n sorry for being needy and ask– fuck– asking you to fuck me to- to rile cheol up.” you cry, tears slipping down your face as the knot in your tummy gets tighter and tighter. “i’m so sorry, please. please forgive me.”
seungcheol smiles against your ear, biting back a chuckle at your desperation. he knows the apology was more for him than mingyu. 
mingyu shudders straight into the mic before stuttering, “Y/N… it’s… fine, please–”
“cheol,” you sob, cutting him off and it startles both seungcheol and the man on the phone. it’s apparent that you’ve lost the ability to be discreet and your boyfriend takes pride that he and his cock are the reason for that.
but it’s when you cry out the other man’s name– a whiny ‘gyu’– that his jaw sets and his teeth grind together. 
“so fucking dirty,” cheol spits, sitting back up. his hips snap against your ass vigorously and it’s like both of you have forgotten about poor mingyu who’s still on the line and now hearing every word– every little thing. “moaning out his name while i’m fucking you like this? you really want him to know how much of a slut you are?”
mingyu lets out a muffled groan into his phone, hand slipping to palm at his clothed cock– which has been all hard and achy since you whispered into his ear at dinner– his other clamped over his mouth. he’s trying to keep his sounds at bay, trying to fight the moan that bubbles up in the back of his dry throat, but his name falling from your pretty lips like that? it’s making it impossible. 
he knows the two of you have forgotten all about him because he can hear the vulgar words his partner spits and the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against what he presumes to be your unbelievably soaked cunt. it’s driving him nuts. you’ve been driving him nuts all fucking night. 
and it’s true. you and seungcheol pay no mind to the phone– you’re too busy losing your mind and cheol is too busy making it happen– it’s like he doesn’t even exist. 
your walls hug his cock tightly and it elicits a deep chuckle from the man behind you. “look at that. you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” he says breathily. “just like you’re made to take my cock. isn’t that right, baby? made just for me?” 
you respond with a moan, arms giving out on you as you return to your previous position– one arm limply hanging off the seat while the other grips at the door’s cup holder– your face buried into the leather seat. 
seungcheol doesn’t tolerate that response, though, hand lacing into your hair and pulling your face off the seat. “answer me,” he grits, roughly tugging at your locks. “or i’m pulling out.”
you panic at the thought of being left all high and dry, incessantly shaking your head in his tight grip. “y-yes, sir, yes! for you– made for you.” you sob in a mix of pain and pleasure, back arching while his cock finally hits your cervix. “cheol– cheol, i’m– fuck, ‘m gonna cum! p-please, can i?”
and it’s when mingyu hears seungcheol’s given name– when it’s followed by your desperate pleas for release–  that he can’t hold it in anymore, letting out a loud, drawn out moan. he’s quick when pulling his cock out of his slacks, spitting into his palm, and working himself rather aggressively. it’s like he’s chasing his own release, too.
seungcheol grunts in confusion at the deep moans, but then it comes back to him. mingyu never hung up. an evil smirk plays onto his plush lips, “oh-ho, you hear that, sweet girl? sounds like gyu stuck around to hear you cum all over my cock.” 
and mingyu moans again, a hushed, “fuck,” slipping past his lips. you can almost hear how fast his hand moves, how unbelievably eager he is. 
your boyfriend moans, giving you sharper thrusts. he pants out his next words, “that’s so dirty, mingyu… didn’t know you were into that.”
and mingyu wants to tell him to shut the fuck up, but he can’t form the words when all he can think about is the sound of your pornographic moans and how he’s needily bucking into his tight fist, wishing he was in seungcheol’s position. 
you, on the other hand, could care less that mingyu is on the other side of the line, truly. you’re practically at your breaking point, and if you don’t release sometime soon, you may break. 
“cheol, please– please, please, i-i can’t–” you gasp out, pussy tightening around him and squeezing him for all he’s worth. “oh, my god, i’m–”
seungcheol shushes you, “‘s alright, baby, you can cum in a sec.” 
and just as you’re about to let go, cheol’s hand grabs at his whiny phone and ends the call, sending mingyu to what you presume is his doom. 
“i’m the only one who gets to have you like this.” he grunts, hips stuttering a bit. you can tell he’s close, too. the way he huffs out his words and his movements get sloppy. “cum for me, baby, come on.” he whispers. 
and you do. your orgasm, powerful and blinding, washes over you seconds after he gives you the okay. your body convulses and your back arches as the knot finally unravels in your tummy. your eyes roll, jaw dropping and letting out the loudest cry of his name. 
“fuck, that’s it, baby. that’s my fuckin’ girl.” he coaxes, fucking you through your orgasm, though your vice-like cunt makes it nearly impossible. “gonna fill you up just like you need, yeah? just take it all for me.” 
you whine, still recovering from your euphoric high, yet you still give him a broken nod. 
he groans loudly, giving you a few more hard thrusts before he’s nestling himself deep and stilling inside of you. his cock twitches and, before you know it, warm cum floods your pussy, effectively filling you up just as he promised.
the post-orgasm haze lingers over both of you for a while, but seungcheol is the first to speak up, a twinge of guilt filling him when he sees you’re still shuddering and twitching underneath him. 
his voice hoarse, “baby, are you good? was i too rough?”
“mmm, ‘m good, i liked it. you’re so hot.” you mindlessly admit, words breathy and muffled. 
he scoffs, hand soothing over your body. he’s always so soft after he fucks you regardless of how mad or upset he is. “so you did all of it on purpose, hm?” he asks knowingly and when you give him a sleepy giggle, he rolls his eyes. “you’re annoying.”
“it was worth it… it felt so good, cheollie,” you admit. “hope you’re not too mad, you know you’re the only one for me.” the reassurance slips from your lips and seungcheol can tell it’s genuine. 
“baby, you know you can just be normal and ask if you want to be fucked like that, right?” 
“it’s more fun this way,” you tell him, shameless with your words. “i literally thought i was going to cum when you ripped my panties. i’m serious, you’re so fucking hot.”
he snickers at your blunt words, “i think you’re still cockdrunk, baby. come on, i’ll clean you up and we can go home. think i got some napkins in here.”
you sigh, nodding your head, “can we roll the windows down? smells like sex in here.” 
he laughs, taking in the fact that it is now stuffy in his precious, fogged up car, but you were right. it was so worth it. the sex was just as good for him as it was for you, if not better. 
when he pulls out, he makes sure your ass is still raised up so his seed doesn’t spill out as quickly to avoid the mess it’ll make while he scavenges for napkins in the glove box. he does eventually get you cleaned up, handling you gently and whispering about how well you did, much like he does every other time. 
once you’re clean, he gets you to turn and look at him. he smiles at your disheveled state, “well, you look like you had the time of your life.” he says sarcastically. 
“i did, actually.” you say as a matter-of-factly. “i feel kinda bad for mingyu, though… i didn’t want him to get caught in the crossfire.”
cheol rolls his eyes in faux annoyance, “he’ll be fine, i’ll text him right now.” 
when seungcheol grabs his phone that now resides on the floor of his car, he sees that there are already a few missed texts from mingyu. 
“he said he’s fine.” seungcheol assures, though you can tell by the smug smirk on his face that mingyu most definitely did not say it was fine. “don’t worry about him.”
kim mingyu
hello?!
???
dude
not cool.
choi seungcheol
sorry, man. call dropped. see you monday.
kim mingyu
??????
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