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#did you say knuckle deep
mcgrathconfessions · 2 years
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I love imagining Katie making those quiet little moans from the most recent ask. But I also want to be knuckle deep inside her and whisper in her ear, "It's okay, baby, I want to hear you," and she clings to me and rattles the windows.
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funny, that’s exactly what Chyler was thinking..
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criminalamnesia · 1 month
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the 141 x reader fic that you did was so yummy!!! pls make them suffer the wrath of reader and make 141 realise how much they need them when they leave,
your work is so amazing btw and your way with words is simply ✨chef’s kiss✨ (((o(*゚▽゚*)o)))♡
thank you!! here’s part 3 :)
part one here / part two here / part four here
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angry didn’t even begin to describe how you felt as you slammed the door to price’s office behind you.
you were tense, muscles taut and poised to fight. your fists clenched at your sides, blunt nails digging into your palms hard enough to hurt. your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding together as you resisted the urge to march back in there and unleash your fury.
no. not like this. not when you weren’t a hundred percent. not when they would still look at you like you were a wounded doe, stumbling around on broken legs.
in the back of your mind, you can hear that psychologist saying ‘this anger will eat you alive if you let it. you need to let it out somehow.’
you inhaled, unclenched your fists, and made up your mind. you pulled the iv from your arm, wincing at the pinch of the needle.
you left the iv pole standing there as you made your way to the gym.
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the gym was empty when you arrived, which made sense for this time of day. many would be occupied by drills or in the mess hall. others would be sleeping off long nights. you had the place to yourself, and you were grateful for the absence of watchful eyes and sweetened tongues.
you were tired of those who knew nothing acting like they knew something. of those who apologized or asked if you were okay. word spread like wildfire around base, and the subject of your ‘betrayal’ had been front-page news since the start of the witch hunt.
the gym door clicked shut behind you, and you surveyed the room. you knew your doctor would have a fit once you returned to the infirmary, and that she probably wouldn’t let you out alone again, but you didn’t really care.
you needed to let off some steam, and the best way you knew how was with your fists. either you start swinging at a bag or at a certain someone’s face. the bag won’t be condescending, and that makes your choice easy.
you approach one of the bright red punching bags in the corner. it’s scratched and taped from where someone had busted it open. scars that didn’t go away, that wouldn’t— just like yours.
you huffed. it didn’t do any good to start feeling sorry for yourself. you hadn’t done anything wrong. your team had.
you stretch your arms out in front of you, fingers interlocking to pop your knuckles. you catch sight of your severed finger, still healing. they’d recovered what had been chopped off, but hadn’t been able to save it.
just another permanent reminder, something to make sure you didn’t dare forget. you didn’t think you ever would regardless.
you shook out your hands and rolled your shoulders back. fists raised, you angled yourself towards the bag. feet spread, shoulders squared, thumb tucked under your fingers instead of inside. a stance that was second nature after years of sparring and hand-to-hand drills.
the bag was firm when your fist connected with it. you would have been lying if you said it didn’t hurt. you punched with the other hand— same results. the time you’d spent confined to an infirmary bed had done a number on you. muscles had atrophied, bones had weakened. the leg you’d suffered a bone-deep cut to shook under your weight.
you didn’t care. you kept punching, your breathing picking up as your emotions guided you. sweat dripped into your eyes and rolled down your back. you felt weak, physically and mentally. you hated feeling this way, and so you punched harder.
“slow down,” a voice grumbled from behind you.
you ignored him, continuing to punch the bag. you hadn’t heard the door open, nor heard the sound of him approaching, but you would have been surprised if you did.
simon always had a penchant for sneaking up on people, intentionally or not.
“gonna pass out if y’don’t stop,” he said after a minute. you could feel his eyes on you. you ignored him again.
you didn’t need to turn around to know he was standing there with his arms crossed, eyes full of something unreadable.
“stop,” he says firmly, and you sense his movement as he surges forward. his hand lands heavily on your shoulder, pulling you back from the punching bag. you heave in a breath before spinning around and punching him in the nose.
simon stumbles back a step, eyes widened slightly. for someone who prided himself on being so observant, he clearly didn’t see that coming. it made you feel the tiniest bit smug that you’d caught him off guard for once.
you dropped your hands to your knees then, squeezing your eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed over you. damn the bastard, he had been right. you shouldn’t have even been in here in the first place, let alone exerted yourself as much as you had.
your hands were shaking as you tried to pull yourself together. you opened your eyes to see drops of blood on the gym floor, by your feet. you had split your knuckles open.
there were also drops of blood at simon’s feet. you looked up then, slowly straightening your posture. he’d removed his mask, his face bare as he stared at you. blood dripped from his nose.
“gonna have to hit harder than that if y’want to break it,” he says, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“did you follow me in here?”
“no.” he says, and you’re giving a mirthless laugh.
“oh, please. im sure price sent you, yeah? you’ve always been his little lap dog. he says ‘jump’ and you say ‘how high,’ isn’t that right, lieutenant?”
your tone is tense, angry. you throw his title in his face, seeing as he’d been so quick to remind you of yours back in price’s office.
simon watches you, and you want to tackle him. he had always been quiet, always stoic. you’d been with him for years, but you still didn’t think you’d broken down all of his walls.
he was so good at masking his thoughts, his feelings. you weren’t. soap had always called you an open book. whenever you were mad or upset, everyone knew it.
no one knew anything about simon unless he wanted them to. it drove you mad then, and it was sure as hell driving you mad now.
“you need to get back to the infirmary,” he tells you. he wipes the back of his hand under his nose, smearing red across his skin. for a moment, you want to chastise him, reach up and wipe the remnants from his face.
you quickly shake that thought from your head. what is it they say— old habits die hard?
these habits would die if you had to strangle each one with your bare hands. anything you harbored for the four men on your team, for the one you’d called yours, was dead and gone.
“fuck off,” you tell him.
“why are you so damn stubborn?” he says then, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him start to crack since everything had happened. emotions are beginning to leak through his stony exterior, whether he means them to or not.
“you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. none of you do,” you say, and you take a step forward then, eyes blazing as you stare up at him. “not after what you did.”
he doesn’t speak for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. his eyes never leave yours.
“it shouldn’t have happened like that.” he tells you. you scoff.
“like that? you mean the four of you torturing me? tying me up and mutilating me like I was just another fucking target?” your voice was rising as you took another step forward, shoving a finger into his chest.
“if I’d treated you like another target,” he said, tone even. “you would’ve been dead.”
“so you showed me mercy, is that it?” you bared your teeth, a hollow laugh escaping your throat. “oh, thank you simon. I really felt that fucking mercy when you cut off my finger, and when you cut through layers of skin to get to bone.”
you inhaled before continuing. “I should be grateful then, right? is that what you want from me? for me to recognize your fucking ‘mercy’ and take you back? take you all back?”
he just stands there. you can see his jaw clench, but he makes no move to speak. you find it funny that he hasn’t even tried to apologize. john, your ever prideful captain, had swallowed his failure and pleaded for your forgiveness.
johnny and kyle would surely have done the same if they’d had the chance to speak to you, even if they only had a minute.
but simon? simon doesn’t. he doesn’t outwardly admit his wrongs. he doesn’t apologize. doesn’t seem sorry, even. you don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but you find yourself not really caring to know.
the fact that he can’t bring himself to admit, in blunt words, that he had astronomically fucked up and that he felt even the slightest bit of remorse, told you everything you needed to know.
cold, stoic ghost. you hadn’t been afraid of him when you’d first joined the squad, and you weren’t afraid of him now.
but back then, you’d wanted to break down those stone walls of his. you’d wanted to be someone he felt safe around, someone who knew him inside and out.
now, you’re packing your time with him into a box in your mind and dumping it into the trash. simon riley means nothing to you now.
“take your mercy and shove it up your ass,” you tell him. you step back and drop your hand, your eyes still locked on his.
“and by the way,” you say as you start towards the door. he doesn’t turn around, doesn’t move an inch. it’s as if he’s rooted to the spot.
“you should’ve just killed me.”
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author’s note:
not really sure how I feel about this one tbh. I have plans for a part four, but I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be making this series.
and as for simon— I want to write an extra part about his thoughts/feelings about everything. let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!
anyways, let me know your thoughts please :) (I honestly may end up deleting this and rewriting it when I’m not tired lol)
taglist: @preeyansha @igotmajordaddyissues @nanatheoaktree @aesthetic0cherryblossom @oceanicexolorer @soph121212 @liv2post @cupid-eclipse @angels-despair18 @k4marina
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shotmrmiller · 1 month
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pornstar au
f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley
3.7k words (sorry)
tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.
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You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.
"Professor."
He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.
"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.
The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.
"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.
Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"
He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.
"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.
"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."
Fucking hell.
Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."
Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.
"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.
"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."
It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."
The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.
"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"
Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."
He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."
Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.
His good girl.
A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.
Action.
"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.
"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"
His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."
Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.
"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.
Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.
"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."
That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.
"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."
"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.
"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.
Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.
Bloody fucking hell.
His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.
Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."
Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.
"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.
His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.
Delicious.
Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.
Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.
He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.
"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.
"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.
"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."
He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."
That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.
Barely.
The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.
"Fuck, look at me."
Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.
"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.
"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.
Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.
"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"
His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."
Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.
It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.
You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.
"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.
He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.
In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.
"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.
His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.
Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.
You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.
He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.
"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.
He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."
Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."
Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."
He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."
Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.
Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.
"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.
His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"
Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.
You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.
Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."
Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.
"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.
Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.
This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.
You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.
He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."
Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."
He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.
"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."
How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?
"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."
You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.
Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."
He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."
Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.
His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—
All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—
"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."
He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.
Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.
Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.
"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."
You didn't.
"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.
Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.
All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.
"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.
That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.
Cut.
Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.
His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.
To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.
Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.
Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.
He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.
"Perfection."
--
A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.
Ghost truly is the king.
Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.
Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.
Another. one.
Fuck. Fuck!!
You cannot wait.
@mishaglass
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yeonzzzn · 23 days
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say my name: sunghoon
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pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 6.9k
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synopsis: you never liked sunghoon. matter of fact, you hate him. he annoys you and makes your blood boil. what makes it worse is he’s your neighbor, attends the same college as you, and even worked his way into your friend group. you refuse to say his name, but he has plans to make you scream it.
genre: neighbors!au, enemies to lovers, smut.
warnings: swearing, reader has an attitude problem, mutual masturbation, using readers spit to jerk off, fingering, cum eating, unprotective sex, doggie, hair pulling, lmk if I missed anything!
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You gripped the bedsheets, knuckles turning white and mouth going slack as moans escaped your lips. One of his hands left your hips and moved to your head, pushing your long hair from your face before connecting it to the side of your face, pressing you further into the sheets, another moan leaving your mouth. 
He chuckled, “Yeah? You like that huh?” his hand at your hip squeezed and shoved you further onto him, using more force into his other hand to press your face harder into the sheets, “Such a dirty fucking girl.” 
You exhaled out, “I fucking hate you,” but had the biggest smirk on your lips as he used every force possible to fuck into you. 
Sunghoon smirked at the look on your face, “No you don’t,” he cooed, his hand on your face moving to the top of your head, grasping a fistful of your hair and yanking, pulling you up and connecting your back to his chest, “Say my name,” he growled into your ear, letting go of your hair and snaking his hand down to your heat, middle finger circling your clit in perfect rhythm with his thrusts, “Say. My. Name.” 
Your head spun as you thought back on how you ended up in this situation with his cock so deep inside you. 
You hated him the moment he moved in next door. You hoped whoever your neighbor would be that they would be better than the last one. The last neighbor you shared a wall with was loud, always yelling at something, banging on the walls, watching TV way too loud, and for whatever reason would leave their apartment door open to “get fresh air,” when in reality you thought it was to shove whatever terrible smell they had inside out. 
You were so thankful when you saw your new neighbor was your age. He was handsome, looked smart, was quiet, seemed clean and his best friends were hot. 
But you learned soon enough that he was a prick and your hate for him started. 
Your first interaction with him was asking if he could turn his music down because it was three in the morning and you had work that following morning. 
He opened the door wide, wearing nothing but his tight blue boxers that clearly showed his boner. His hair was a mess, and the giggles of two females could be heard from his bedroom. You tried to drown out their giggles and keep your eyes on his, terribly failing and staring down at his chest, abs…his cock. 
He smirked, leaning closer to you, “Like what you see? Want to join us?” Anger filled you instantly. Who the fuck did this prick this he was? He barely moved in a few days ago, has TWO other females in his apartment, and is hitting on you when he doesn’t know you?
You snarled, “Just turn the damn music down!” 
He, in fact, did not turn the music down but turned it up. 
The rest of that week was hell. Music, alcohol, other females, and his friends flew in and out of that apartment, making you sleep less and less every day. 
When classes started back up that following week, to your dismay, you walked into your microbiology class to see him sitting in the corner of the classroom. His hands shoved into his black hoodie, eyes locking onto yours. He smirked, leaning forward into his chair, resting his elbows on the table, and giving you a wink. 
If you could drop this class and take it another semester you would. But you were so close to being done with your prerequisites for your major that there was no point in dropping it. Plus you wouldn’t let your prick of a neighbor ruin this for you. 
Except he made class hell too. Tossing notes your way, giving you winks, and biting his lips. Always having a comeback to your answer when the professor would ask questions.
You discovered through the class that his name was Park Sunghoon, and the moment you knew his name was the moment you vowed to never say it. To not let that tainted name leave your lips. 
Sunghoon only did more to piss you off as time went on. Walking around outside the apartment practically naked, running his hands over his body, and winking at you. Always teasing you at college by how you “wanted” him. 
What made things worse, he somehow befriended your best friend. Yunjin invited you to a party one night and you gladly accepted it, wanting one night away from the apartment building and away from Sunghoon. 
You walked into the party, expecting to be embraced by your best friend, but instead saw the door being opened by Jake, one of Sunghoon’s hot best friends. 
“Oh shit! Hey YN!” his Aussie accent blurted out, “You’re friends with Yunjin too?” 
Too?
You peered into her house, seeing Sunghoon’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, red solo cups in their hands as they laughed together with not only your friends but also his. 
Yunjin’s eyes widen in excitement at seeing Jake lead you into her house, “YNNIE!!!” 
She released herself from Sunghoon and embraced you quickly, “I have some people I want you to meet!” 
She introduced you to Sunghoon and his friends, the awkward smile on Sunghoon’s face showed that he had zero clue you were best friends with Yunjin. 
“No shit!” Jay exclaimed, “You’re best friends with YN?! Sunghoon is her neighbor!” 
Yunjin, mostly in her drunken state, was more excited than she should be, “OH EM GEEE!!” she clapped her hands, “We can be one big happy friend group!”
You found out from Yunjin that she and Sunghoon have a few classes together and even already hung out a few times around campus with his friends when you were busy. 
You wanted to break up the friendship but felt way too guilty and didn’t want to be that person to break away a friendship. 
So you sucked it up. 
For months you tried to act normal, but Sunghoon’s flirting and his teasing only got worse. Making you hate him even more. Oh, but it fueled him to continue. 
Even after almost a year, you refused to call him by name, referring to him as stupid, idiot, idiot penguin(after finding out he was a figure skater), and simply just a prick. 
You twirl your pencil between your fingers, listening to Heeseung and Yunjin talk about the League of Legends match they had last night. Jake cutting into the conversation. 
“Yeah yeah nerds, I have something to say.” 
Sunghoon glanced up at his best friend from his homework, “What could be more important than their league match?” 
“What the idiot penguin said,” you chimed in, eyes going back down to your homework. 
“Are we still going with the idiot penguin?” Sunghoon scoffed, “It’s been a year, YN,” he rolled his eyes, “I have a name.”
You shrugged, standing by your statement of never saying his name. 
Your friend group soon figured out whatever enemies thing you two had going on but never addressed it, hoping you two would figure it out on your own. 
“Anyways,” Jay said, “What is important?” 
Jake smiled, “Let’s go to the next city over and party.” 
Chaewon’s eyes lit up, “You know, why not?” 
Yunjin even seemed interested. 
Your little small town had bars and one shitty club. Neither was worth walking into. Going the next city over for a night out didn’t seem like a bad idea until…
“We can get a hotel!” Yunjin said, “That way we don’t have to rush back home and can actually get drunk.” 
You were on board until the hotel was brought up, “No. Absolutely not.” 
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes at you, knowing perfectly well why you didn’t want to, “Get over it, you’re going. All of us are.” 
You protested the whole week against going, yet you found yourself in the very backseat of Chaewon’s car sitting right next to Sunghoon. 
You rolled your head back onto the headrest, crossing your arms with a groan, “Can someone PLEASE switch seats with me?” 
“NO!” everyone else shouted. Sunghoon just sitting in silence, his arms also crossed, eyes locked onto whatever could be so interesting outside the car. 
You’ve only been in the car for an hour and a half, yet it was killing you already. 
“You really need to get over whatever hate you have for him,” Yunjin said earlier in the day as she shoved her duffle bag into the trunk, “I don’t understand it, everyone else is fine with each other besides you two.” 
You crossed your arms, “He’s just a prick. Has been since I’ve met him.” 
Yunjin rolled her eyes, “You aren’t even sure if he even did have a threesome with those girls.” 
She wasn’t…wrong. But by the way, his dick was hard in those…tight boxers, there’s no way he didn’t fuck them both. 
“Idiot penguin didn’t really do a good job of defending himself if he wasn’t, plus he asked ME to join them.” 
Yunjin just sighed, “He hates when you call him that, he actually wants to be friends with you, ya know. We are all friends, you live right next door to each other, just try to get along tonight, okay?” 
Yet here you were in the backseat with him wanting nothing more than to jump out of the window and let every car hit you. 
The sun started to set, and everyone one by one (except Chaewon and Jay who were driving and the passenger) fell asleep. 
A small bump in the road was enough to wake you from your sleep. You yawned and then the pain of the way your body was twisted into the seat kicked in. 
With a soft groan, you shifted yourself up, eyes wandering down your legs seeing them draped over Sunghoon’s lap. 
His eyes were wide and lips tucked between his eyes as he stared down at your legs. You shifted in your seat, ready to yell at him and pull your legs back but when your foot grazed over his crotch, you were in more shock than he was when realizing you were awake, head snapping to you so fast. 
“YN…” he whispers, eyes darting to the front of the car then back to you, “It’s not—“
“Then what is it you prick?!” you whisper back. He had a fucking hard-on?! What the hell was he thinking and doing with your legs?!
Sunghoon quickly placed his hand over his hard cock, trying to conceal it as if it would help make the situation better. 
It didn’t. 
“And now you’re touching yourself?!” you whispered in a snap, “You’re such a pervert you prick!” 
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes down at you, “Will you shut the fuck up and listen for a second, ya?” you thinned your lips in a line, waiting. “You at some point in your sleep shoved your legs into my lap. It woke me up and I was so close to shoving you off me, but you looked peaceful and Jay made me promise to not start shit with you.” Ahhh so they all were in on trying to get you two to play nice, “So I left you alone, but you started shifting around and…” 
And he got a fucking boner just from your legs. 
“You have a leg fetish or something?” you raise a brow at him. 
Only for your legs. 
Sunghoon shook his head, “You’re fucking crazy.” 
But maybe he was the crazy one. Ever since he’s met you, he’s wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of you. To fuck all that hate you have for him out. To turn that scrunched face full of anger every time you look at him into a relaxed sexual face with you moaning out his name. 
He’s never once heard you call him by name. Even when he’s texted you about stuff about hanging out with everyone or for class or homework or literally anything about the apartment you always call him some wack ass name. 
Sunghoon has it as his goal to get you to say his name. Whether that’s by him fucking you into the next year, or gaslighting you into saying it somehow. He preferred option one. 
He found you so ridiculously sexy. Your attitude always got him going and he couldn’t explain why. Maybe it’s because he wanted to fuck that attitude out, maybe it’s because over the year of knowing you, he’s grown a little crush. Loving the way your eyes light up when a strawberry alcoholic beverage of any kind is placed in front of you. Loving how you smile when you see animals and how you dance around with Yunjin in her living room. 
He found it so sexy how you give back every ounce of bullshit he threw at you. So sexy when you wear your tight sweatpants that shape your ass do fine. Finding the small mole above your naval so cute and attractive, mostly when you wear tight crop tops or shorter shirts that lift when you stretch showing off your tummy. 
Sunghoon was so down bad for you in many ways that even he wasn’t able to understand it. 
He hated you to a degree, but only in a way to keep himself from feeling things he shouldn’t for you. 
“I’m crazy?” you burned holes into his eyes when he nodded, “Says the one who got a boner over my legs.” 
Sunghoon couldn’t hold it back anymore, slowly palming his cock, “Yeah? And what about it? Your legs are so fucking sexy.” Sunghoon loved your legs and wanted to rub his hands up and down them. Wanted to squeeze the plush of your thighs. Wanted them to straddle him. 
You could see it in his eyes, the way his pupils were starting to look blown out and filled with so much lust. He’s never looked at you like that before. 
It made your cheeks flush and made you speechless. Your eyes wandered away from his and down to the hand palming himself, watching as his hips slowly shifted up with each stroke of his palm. 
It sent heat down your body and pooled between your legs. You hated him, so why was watching him stroke himself so hot to you? Making you want to continue watching him. 
“Oh, you so want me,” he whispered, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly sliding his hand down his sweatpants and boxers, letting out a soft grunt and he flung his head back into the headrest, keeping his eyes locked with yours. 
You watched how the moonlight and street lamps shined on him as he fucked up into his fist slowly. 
“Prick,” you whispered back at him, closing your thighs together in hopes of concealing the rising heat between them. But Sunghoon notices everything. 
“You’re so wet, aren’t you? All just from watching me? So dirty.” He was making your blood boil. But the slick between your legs was worse than your anger at the moment, and you knew that he could see it too. 
“Shut up,” you closed your legs tighter, trying to fight yourself from looking at him, from looking at how his hand moves under his sweatpants. 
“Touch yourself.” 
Your eyes widened, “Excuse you?!” 
“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped, making you realize you said that a bit too loud, with a groan he repeated himself, “I said touch yourself.” 
You snarl at him, opening your mouth to fight back but ultimately stopping when he pulls his hand from his pants and lifts his hips to slide them down to his thighs. 
He looked back at you as he wrapped his hand back around himself, a smirk raising, “Close your mouth, you might start drooling, YN.” 
You didn’t realize how wide you let your jaw drop at his size…he was huge. Maybe that day you told him to turn his music down, his cock showing wasn’t because of how tight his boxers were…
You closed your mouth, sliding your back into the seat and slouching down, running your thighs even more together. 
Sunghoon was loving the way you were looking at him. Loved how you kept darting your eyes back and forth between his face and cock. Oh, the way he’ll tease you about this until his last breath. 
He leaned towards you a bit, rubbing his thumb over the tip to spread his precum, “Touch yourself, YN.” 
Your heart was racing, your body on fire. You wanted to. So bad. But didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. 
Sunghoon let a small moan leave his lips, and you were done for. 
You slid your hand down your shorts, your fingers working their way to spread your slick around your clit. 
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowing, “Keep going.” 
You stared down at his cock, watching how he bucked his hips in movement with his hand, seeing how his precum leaked from the tip. 
But then he released himself, reaching over and stopping his hand below your mouth, “Spit.” 
You didn’t hesitate, dripping your saliva into a small pool in his hand. Sunghoon could have came just by the eye contact you gave him as you gave him your spit. Like holy fucking shit it was hot. 
Sunghoon spreads your saliva over his cock, hitting his head back into the headrest as his hand glides so easily up and down his shaft, “Oh, fuck.” 
You bit your lips and pressed two fingers inside you, letting small and quiet whimpers escape just loud enough for him to hear. 
Sunghoon wanted you to expose yourself as he has to you, reaching his free hand to the hem of your shorts and tugging, “Pull’em down.” 
So you did. Releasing your fingers from your cunt only long enough to push your shorts and panties down to your ankles and pumping your fingers back into you. 
Sunghoon hissed at see you finger fuck yourself. Loving how your hips rolled in time with your fingers. God, he wished it was his fingers inside you. 
He looks up to you, seeing that your eyes were still locked onto his cock. He slouched more down into the seat, giving himself more room to pump himself and give you a better view. 
You bit your lips tighter and pushed your fingers in faster, knowing damn well you were covering the seat in your juices. But you didn’t care at that moment. 
Sunghoon’s hand was on your thigh, spreading your leg more apart, giving you that access to finger fuck yourself faster. 
It was driving him up a wall at how you looked right now. You’ve only ever shown him faces of anger, but right now you’re showing him the faces you make when horny and touching yourself. And oh god he was loving it. 
He wanted you to look at him while touching yourself. He wanted to see the face you’d make when you cum, wanting you to watch him cum. 
“Hey, YN,” he was barely able to whisper, “Eyes on me.” 
You locked eyes with him, chills being sent down your spine at his fucked out expression. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run wild. Is this how he looks when he’s having sex? So out of it and lustful? 
You wondered how he’d fuck you while you straddled him. Would his hips buck up like they are doing into his fist? Would he go faster? Harder? The thoughts were endless as you stared back into his eyes. 
His mouth slightly opened, his lips swollen from how hard he was biting them to keep his moans compressed. He let out small grunts, eyes quickly looking down at how covered your hand was with your wetness, wanting to unbuckle himself and grab you by your thighs until your back was touching the bottom of the seat as he spreads your legs and fucked himself into you. 
The thoughts were enough to send him over the edge, “YN,” he whispered.
“Hmm?”
“I’m fixing to cum.” 
Your body tensed, fingers moving faster, “Cum then,” you whispered back, your thumb now doing circles on your clit as you pumped yourself. 
“M’cumming,” he said with a deep inhale, tucking his lips back between his teeth as he released, his cum leaking out so perfectly and down his hand. 
“Fuck,” you whimper, working your fingers faster. 
Sunghoon slid his boxers up first, wiping his cum on the inside of his boxers due to not having anywhere else to do so, then slid his sweatpants back over his hips. 
He locked his eyes back to yours, seeing how desperate you looked wanting to cum too. He slides his eyes down to your cunt. If it were his hands there…you would have came twice by now. 
You wanted to release terribly, but the angle of your hand and the small of the backseat made it difficult for you to chase out that climax. You tensed as you tried to reach for it, calling for it. 
Your body froze when Sunghoon’s hand grabs yours, pulling your fingers out of your cunt, “Let me help.” 
Usually, you’d protest and yell at him. Call him a prick. Shove him away. But right now you wanted to cum and that priority was above all else. 
He replaced your fingers with his. His long fingers slid into you so gracefully, “Fuck you’re so wet,” he moans softly, angling his hand in the perfect spot as he hit your g-spot. Sunghoon couldn’t believe he was feeling you in his hand, feeling your slick pool in his palm, feeling you clench around his fingers. He was already getting hard again. 
“Feels good baby?” he whispers in your ear and all you do in response is nod. 
Something about his fingers was driving you crazy. The way they hit your g-spot with such ease, the way his thumb brushed against your clit with each movement…
“Say my name,” he says into your ear, pumping his fingers in you faster. 
“No,” you say back, your hand flying to his wrist and squeezing it tightly. 
“Say my name, YN,” he said again, curling his fingers so deep inside you, your climax nearing so fast you didn’t have time to think, “Say my name baby.” 
You opened your mouth, not to say his name, but to moan as you came around his fingers and hand. Sunghoon acted fast enough to press his lips to yours, suppressing your moan from being too loud and letting the others find out what was happening in the back seat. 
You closed your eyes at your release, Sunghoon’s fingers still moving inside you slowly, helping you chase out at high. 
You kissed him back, without so much as a second thought, you kissed him back. 
Maybe you did it as a way to thank him for helping you release, maybe you did it because you wanted to. The lines were blurred and you didn’t know why you let him kiss you. 
His fingers slid out from your cunt as he leaned more into you, his tongue spreading your lips apart and making its way into your mouth twirling the muscle around yours. 
Once you came down from your high, your eyes opened wide, and shoved Sunghoon back to his side of the car. A chuckle left his lips, “Back to hating me?” 
“I never stopped hating you!” 
“Right,” he clicked his tongue, as he looked down at his hand covered in your cum, “That’s not what your body said five minutes ago.” 
You wanted to call him his usual nickname but stopped short when he lifted his hand to his lips, tongue extending out and licking your cum from his palm then shoved his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 
Fuck she tastes so good. 
Your face reddens, “Prick,” 
His eyes roamed down to your cunt, “Pull your shorts up.” 
“I hate you.” 
Once you all arrived at the hotel and checked into your rooms, you quickly locked the door, sliding your back down the wood and covering your face in your hands. 
The guilt of what happened was finally hitting you. You masturbated with him. Watch him cum down his hand and even let him make you cum. You let him kiss you, and shove his tongue down your throat. 
You felt dirty and in need of a shower to wash away the guilt and feeling of his hand between your legs. 
Everyone was supposed to meet down in the lobby twenty minutes after getting to their rooms to change and do whatever else before hitting up the club. It was plenty of time to shower and wash Sunghoon off you. 
You scrubbed your body clean and even double-brushed your teeth before sliding into the dress Yunjin and Chaewon forced you to bring, “It makes you look so hot!” Yunjin said, “Fits you in all the right places!” 
Well, she was right. The red dress was made of silk and slid down your body perfectly as well as fit you perfectly. It was tight around your frame to show off your curves, shaping your ass and lifting your tits. You slid your feet into matching red sneakers, not caring enough to walk around in heels all night. 
You arrived in the lobby, seeing that Jake and Sunghoon were the first ones there.
Just looking at Sunghoon not only brought back your moment in the car together but brought out a different feeling. 
You could tell he also showered by how wet his hair still was. His hair was parted perfectly in its normal part, pieces sliding down into his face. His black button-up shirt was tight against his frame, showing his muscled arms and shoulders perfectly. Matching his shirt, he wore black pants that fit him perfectly in a loose way. 
Jake mirrored his outfit but in white, going for a whole yin and yang thing. Which made sense for the two of them being best friends and all. 
“Wow,” Jake was the first to speak, “You look—“
“Sexy,” Sunghoon finished for him, his gaze eyeing you up and down. 
“Yes! Sexy!” 
Sunghoon tried to not let his irritation with his best friend show as he watched him practically drool over you. If only Jake knew he was knuckles deep in your pussy not even an hour ago. 
Hell, Sunghoon was trying to not drool over you right now. Red was definitely your color and it was doing something to him down in his pants. Especially with the way the tops of your breasts pooled over the top of that dress. 
You noticed how he was eye fucking you, earning you to scrunch your nose at him and look away, putting your attention fully on Jake. 
Shit, there’s that attitude I want to fuck right out of her. 
It didn’t take much longer for the others to arrive and off to the club you all went. 
The club was packed. The music you didn’t quite care for and Sunghoon wouldn’t let you out of his sight, following your every move like a hawk hunting his prey. 
Everyone else had found their way to the dance floor, shaking some ass and grinding up on random strangers having the time of their lives. That could be you if you didn’t have an idiot penguin on your heels. 
You walked up to the bar, waving the bartender over, “Yes ma’am?” he said, his eyes immediately dropping to your cleavage.
“She’ll take a strawberry coconut rum with extra ice please, make it two,” Sunghoon answered for you. 
You looked over at him, seeing how closely he stood next to you. Sunghoon wanted to touch you, have his hands on you to show every man in this club to back the fuck off. 
“You got it,” the bartender said, giving a small look of irritation at Sunghoon. 
Sunghoon just smirked, eyes flickering to his name tag, “Thank you, Choi Yeonjun.” 
Yeonjun just thinned his lips out, “Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then he walked off to make the drinks. 
Your glare at him didn’t falter, “Can I help you?” Sunghoon asked. 
“Can I help YOU? I can order my drinks myself.” 
“He was literally eye fucking you, I had to do something.” 
You raised a brow at him, “Huh? Is it eating you up so much that other men are looking at me?” 
Yes because no one else is allowed to have you. 
“Why would I care about that? It’s not them looking, it’s the fact they aren’t just looking. They are undressing you with their eyes and I can’t fucking stand it.” 
You’ve never seen Sunghoon so…protective before. He’s never batted an eye at you twice at the clubs and bars back home, letting any and every man hit on you as much as they wanted. What changed between then and now? 
Yeonjun returned with your drinks, giving you a flirty smile and glare at Sunghoon before walking away again. 
Sunghoon snarled at him. 
“Anyway!” You snapped, “How did you know what to even order me?” 
Sunghoon chuckled, taking a sip of the alcohol, “I’ve known you for over a year, YN. I’ve seen what you drink when we’ve gone out and at parties. I know you.” 
Somehow that hit hard to your heart, that he even paid that much attention to you outside of the constant teasing. 
“You hate me, why go through this trouble?” you scoffed, chugging down your drink quickly, wanting to already feel the buzz. 
“I hate you, but not in the same way you hate me,” he finally admitted, “It’s not any trouble at all to protect you, I’ve always done it, always shooed off anyone who would hit on you for too long. You just never noticed it.” 
Your heart skipped a beat, your memory shoving back in time at every time someone hit on you, how they’d flirt and touch your waist, only for them to leave to grab a drink and never return. Now you know why, Sunghoon got to them. 
“What do you mean that you don’t hate me the same way I hate you?” 
Sunghoon looked away from you, chugging down the last bit of his drink before tossing it back onto the bar counter and taking a deep breath in. 
“You hate me because of how I flirt with you, how I tease you about anything and everything. You hate me for how loud I blast my music, hate me for being loud when Heeseung, Jay, and Jake are over, hate me for the number of females I’ve brought in and out of my apartment, hate me because you think I had a threesome with those girls all that time ago when I actually didn’t, by the way, I sent them home before anything else could happen. And you hate me for competing against you in class, hate me for joining your friend group, the list goes on. But me? I hate you because of how bad I want you.” 
He looked back at you, his face softened from his hardened look from earlier at Yeonjun. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was holding everything back. 
Sunghoon wanted to yell at you for how stupid you were for not seeing how he felt about you. That his little teasing and acts of flirting were because he likes you. Yeah, he wanted to fuck your brains out along with that nasty attitude of yours, that ain’t no lie, but the moment he first laid his eyes on you his heart wanted to jump out his chest. And after seeing the way you eyed him up that one day you went to yell at him about his music, it tipped him over the edge to always wanting to be that thorn in your side pissing you off. Because it was better than making you feel nothing at all for him. 
Sunghoon sighs, “I hate you because I want you so bad. I hate you because you can’t even dare say my name. I hate you for the things you make me feel. I fucking hate you for letting me kiss you in the car because now all I can think about is how I’d get my lips back on yours.”
You stared blankly at him, before nervously shaking your head and letting out a chuckle, “Right. This is just your way of teasing me again.” 
“If I wanted to tease you right now, I’d bring up how badly you were gasping at my cock in the car.” 
“Shut up!” You snapped, your face reaching the same shade as your dress. 
He smirked at you, “All that aside, I want you so fucking bad that I can’t handle it anymore, and by how fucking wet you were for me…” he took a step closer to you, face nearly inches apart from yours, “I know you want me so bad too.”
You swallowed, body shaking from how close he was to you right now. Sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, biting at his lower lip, “Say my name,” 
You lifted your face a bit, barely brushing your lips to his, “No,” 
Sunghoon’s hands were now at your waist, fingers digging into that sexy dress of yours that he wanted to rip from your body, “God I want to fuck that attitude out of you.”
Your heart was doing flips and you finally understood why: because of the feelings that ran deep within you that you sheltered up and locked away. Finally understanding that’s why he made your blood boil at nearly existing. You were forcing the feelings you felt for him away. 
You landed your hands on his biceps, rubbing your thumb over the muscle, “Say my name,” he said again. 
You smiled, shaking your head. 
Sunghoon just smirked back at you, taking a few steps back and guiding you with him, “I am going to get you to say my name.” 
You, for the first time, flirted back, “How are you going to do that?” 
He didn’t respond, just kept pulling you toward the entrance of the club and until you were back at the hotel and being shoved into his room. 
His mouth found yours, his hands roaming every inch of your body as your fingers trailed down his shirt, undoing every button until the black fabric was lying somewhere on the floor. 
Sunghoon shoved his tongue down your throat at the same time he found the zipper to your dress, pulling it down in a shift motion to get you out of it quickly. 
His cock was twitching in his pants, so eager to be set free and find its new home inside your cunt. 
The moment your dress hit the floor, you were shoved onto your back on the bed, his hands on your hips and pulling you to the edge, looping his fingers into your panties nearly ripping them off you. 
“So fucking needy,” you teased him, “Want me that bad?” 
Sunghoon hissed, “You have no fucking idea.” 
He towered over you, pressing his lips back to yours as his fingers slipped into your soaked pussy. You moaned against his mouth, closing your thighs around his hand. 
“Say my name,” he said once again, “I wanna hear you say it.” 
You bit your lip, ushering out another no. 
Sunghoon was going insane for this little game of yours, it turned him on more than he’d like to admit. Maybe he was actually crazy. 
“Say my name,” he said as he pushed his fingers into you harder, curling his fingers at your g-spot, “Scream my name and I might consider letting you cum.”
You slid your hand down to your clit, working your fingers against it, “That's fine, I’ll just make myself cum.” 
Sunghoon groaned, swatting your hand from your clit and removing his fingers. Both hands grabbing at your waist and flipping you over, lifting your ass up and making your back arch, “Shit I can’t wait to fuck that attitude of yours away.” 
“Funny you think that’s something that can be done,” 
He took a handful of your hair and lifted you up, letting out a “Watch me,” in a whisper against your ear, then shoved you back down into the sheets. 
You heard the sound of his pants hitting the floor, then felt his tip prod at your entrance, “Prick…” 
“What was that?” 
“Pri—“
Before you could make out the word, he shoved his length into you, bottoming out then pushing himself back out and then in, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. 
You didn’t care though, the pleasure was far too great as he fucked into you like you were a bitch in heat, “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll start thinking twice before giving me attitude again.” 
And that’s how you ended up here, back pressed so tightly against his chest as his cock and fingers worked their magic on your body. 
You reached your hands up and behind his, fingers tangling into his hair as your brain became foggy. 
He fucked into you with the full intention of getting you to scream his name. Of getting you to come so unglued on his cock you’ll be begging him to fuck you some more. 
Even with these goals in mind, Sunghoon couldn’t believe he had your body pressed up against his, cock so balls deep into your cunt, and hearing your moans so crystal clear in his ear. He loved it. Loved how much of a mess he was making of you. 
He worked his middle finger faster against your clit, “Say my name,” he begged, “Say my fucking name.” 
You bit down on your lip, trying with any willpower left that you had to keep from screaming his name. From giving him exactly what he wanted. 
Sunghoon kept trying and wasn’t going to stop until his name left your lips. He’ll fuck you until the sun starts raising if he had to, all to hear your pretty voice speak his name. 
Your climax was fast approaching, you wanted to cum so bad, and you knew what you had to do to reach it, finally letting go. 
“Sunghoon,” you softly moaned. 
“Louder,” he growled. 
“Sunghoon,” you moaned again. 
“Louder!” 
“SUNGHOON,” you screamed at the same time you came on his dick, his fingers and thrusts did not slow long down. 
“Fuccckkkk yessss,” he groaned, removing his fingers from your clit and using all his weight to push you back down into the sheets, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pounding into you faster and harder than before. 
You chanted his name, losing your breath at the ecstasy that filled you. 
“That’s it, baby, scream my name like it’s the only name you’ll ever know.” 
You continued to moan his name, making it music to his ears and filling his heart with such happiness he didn’t think was possible. 
“Fuck, you love hoonie’s cock, ya? Love the way I give it to you?”
“Hoonie,” you cried out, “Fucking love your cock so much.” 
Sunghoon gripped his hands tighter around yours, “Cum for me again baby, you can do it.” 
You released on him again, your eyes seeing stars. 
He pushed your legs further apart with his knees and fucked harder into you, “I’m so in love with you,” he admitted, “I love that stupid ass attitude of yours, I love fucking that attitude out, I love the way you say my name and love the way you look at me while I fuck you. I love you.” 
You lifted your head, barely being able to look at him, but you did. You were looking up at him with such endearment. Like he was the one who put the stars in the sky just like he’s the one making you see them right now. 
“Sunghoon,” he came undone at how softly you said his name, his seed unloading into your gummy walls, slowing his thrust as he chased down his high, “I love you too.” 
You both sat hand in hand in the backseat, Sunghoon pinching your cheeks in a teasing manner as he rubbed his nose against yours, his smile so wide. 
“Hey,” Jay called from the front seat, “What the fuck happened with you two?” 
Heeseung groaned and slung his head onto the headrest, “You don’t even want to know! They were fucking each other's brains out all night.” 
Chaewon yawned at the driver's seat, “Be lucky you didn’t have a room next to his.” 
“No for real,” Heeseung added, “I got so tired hearing how many times he asked YN to cum for him. Wanted to shove pencils down my ears.” 
Sunghoon slapped his friend's chest, “Bring earphones next time buddy.” 
Jake and Yunjin looked at each other confused at what happened between their best friends, but going along anyway. Jake always knew Sunghoon had feelings for you and saw how he bottled it up. Jake guessed last night was Sunghoon’s tipping point. And Yunjin always knew you’d break at some point and accept Sunghoon, she just didn’t expect it to be as a lover. 
“Anyway,” Jay said rubbing his temples, “Let’s hit the road, I have work tomorrow and need to sleep off more of this hangover.” 
Chaewon then started the drive back home. 
Sunghoon rested his face back against yours, bringing your lips to his, “Say my name again.” 
“Sunghoon,” you whispered between kisses, “Sunghoon, Sunghoon, Sunghoon.”
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2K notes · View notes
sparklingchim · 6 months
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you're losing me; m | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 3.2k
rating: 18+
genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance
warnings: thigh riding, liddol hickey, spittt, groping, dirty talk, name calling, only one spank!!, arguments 🙄, mentions of smoking?, daddy kink, fake sympathy, creampie, little cum play,
summary: jungkook is late from work yet again. but he shows you just how much he missed you.
a/n: this is for us angst girlies 🫂
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
Something is not right.
Your nose picks up on the unfamiliar scent on Jungkook as you bury your face into his chest. He squeezes you tightly, big arms embracing you with a warm hug.
“Hi, love,” he softly whispers. Jungkook cradles your head and you melt into his hand. He is bent down to your position on the bed, his loose tie hanging from his neck.
“Missed you.” Your voice gets buried in the kiss Jungkook presses on your lips. You catch his tie and pull him closer.
“I told you not to stay up.” He leans back. Accusatory eyes peering down at you.
Your nose scrunches when he steps away, the pungent waft snaking up your nostrils.
“Did you smoke?”
His round eyes widen at the question, but he denies it with a firm shake of his head. His neatly styled hair doesn’t move – except the short, wispy flyaways on his forehead. Jungkook’s lips pucker the slightest bit. He appears innocent and you believe him if he tells you so.
“I was with Mingyu a lot,” he explains. He places his folded suit jacket on the dresser and begins to loosen the sleeve of his shirt. “You know how he is when he’s stressed.”
You lean against the headboard. “I don’t like the smell.”
“I know.” He starts unbuttoning the front of his shirt. “I’m sorry.” He walks over to his nightstand and exchanges his Rolex for his smart watch. You watch him with knitted eyebrows. “I’m gonna head down to the gym – do a quick workout session.”
“Jungkook it’s late. You just got home from work.” You reach for his arm.
He turns to you, chiselled chest peeking out from underneath his unbuttoned shirt. “It’s fine. I’m not tired.”
You huff, crossing your arms. “Then let me watch you work out.”
Jungkook sniffs a laugh. “You stay here.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep for me, yeah? I know you have an appointment tomorrow morning.” His knuckles trace the outline of your jawline.
You sigh and draw back.
“Hey – don’t be upset.” He catches your chin with his fingers. “I told you I was gonna work out today.”
A harsh glower settles on your face. “Well, I thought that meant you’d come home earlier.”
“I tried to, love. I really tried.” His worried eyes search for understanding in yours. “I don’t want you upset. I never want you upset.”
He tilts your chin, so you meet his eyes. Jungkook’s gaze is soft. The amount of softness you’d have if you were staring at a delicate, precious thing. He always looks at you like this.
“I only ever want to make you happy. Nothing else.” His eyebrows raise to stress the tender words he whispered into the room. “Just want to make my wife happy.”
Warmth spreads in your chest. “I know that,” you answer meekly.
Deep down, there’s an overwhelming desire to pour your heart out to him, to express the multitude of things that have been gnawing at your soul, each one a sharp thorn in your side, leaving you utterly upset. But considering how late it is you don’t think it’s the right moment to unleash this torrent of pent-up frustration.
You’re both tired from the useless arguments. You don’t want to make this day any more exhausting for him.
“If you want to make me a happy wife then finish off that workout quickly and join me in bed,” you say. “I need cuddles.”
His eyes crease before a gentle smile sweeps over his mouth. “Good night, love.” He catches your lips in a swift, tender good-night-kiss. “You should shut that thing off. It’s too late for that.” Jungkook regards your iPad with a disgruntling scrunch of his nose. He hates screen time before bed. But you just love drawing on it.
You’d tease Jungkook with it sometimes. Annoy the hell out of him until he’d see no other choice but to put you to sleep his way.
But now Jungkook tucks you under the bed, makes sure to grab his number one enemy when it comes to having you to himself at night and hides in his nightstand.
You watch him slip off his shirt as he crosses the room. You get a glimpse of his broad shoulders and unfairly teeny tiny waist before he leaves the bedroom.
You turn to your side. A tiring sigh flies past your lips.
With two gentle claps of your hands the dim lights in the room shut off.
The spot next to you is empty. Cold.
It’s unsettling how quickly you’ve gotten used to the feeling.
~
The mattress dips beside you.
“Hmm?” You stir awake, emitting confused murmurs.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook hushes from behind you. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
Your head turns in his direction. “Jungkook.” You bury your face into the crook of his neck. He is a magnet, always pulling you in. Even when you are sleepy and can barely force your eyes open.
His fingers find their way to your hair and in slow patterns he strokes over the length of it.
“What time is it?” you mutter the question into his skin.
“Just past midnight.”
“Two hours?” Your peeved grumble prompts him to peck your bare shoulder. “You said quick workout.”
“I didn’t work out the entire week, babe.”
You rest your head on his arm, glaring up at him. “It’s just Wednesday.”
Jungkook shushes you with a firm squeeze on your hips. “I’m here now. Done with everything.”
When you hear him emit a tiny, exhausted blow through his nose – barely audible in the quiet room, but you notice because you notice every little detail about him – your eyes turn worried.
“You okay?”
Jungkook lets the questions linger in the air before he nods firmly, uttering a, “Yeah. I’m fine.”
You tentatively sweep his short hair from his forehead. It’s a little damp from the shower.
“The day was filled with lots of important meetings. It was a lot today.” Before you can place your hand back on his chest, he catches your wrist and adds a small kiss to the back of your hand.
You figured as much. Jungkook barely texted you back today. Needed hours to respond.
“Was at least the food that I ordered for you good?”
“Fuck – don’t remind me.” He bites his bottom lip, pleasure spreading over his face. “The food was incredible. Have you eaten there before?”
A smile curves your lips. “Uh-huh. Went there with Namjoon last week. I didn’t know when you’d have time to have dinner there with me, so I got my favourite from the menu for you.”
Jungkook has been coming late from work for over two weeks now. You barely had cute dates anymore.
“We can go there.” His tatted fingers toy with the hem of your lacy nightgown. “You wanna go there tomorrow? I’ll finish work earlier.”
Your eyes sparkle. “I’d love to.”
Jungkook’s dimple appear at your beaming face. He drags your thigh over his abdomen, the silky fabric of your nightgown riding up the curve of your butt. His palm rests on the exposed skin.
“Why didn’t you blow dry your hair?” you ask. You tug at some damp strands.
“Didn’t want to wake you.” Jungkook cranes his neck down to gently kiss your forehead. “We should sleep now. It’s late.”
Your brows furrow in exaggerated displeasure. “Not yet.”
“What’s wrong, love?” He cups your cheek worriedly.
“Wanna hang out more.”
Jungkook chuckles lightly. “You wanna hang out?”
“You’ve been making me feel really lonely,” you say in a pout.
“Love, fuck.” His hand on the swell of your ass squeezes your flesh. “Don’t say that.”
“You’re barely home.” You get closer to him, if even possible, knee skimming past the front of his grey sweatpants. The pads of his fingers dig into your skin at that motion.
“You really don’t wanna sleep, huh?”
“Nuh-uh.”
You slowly start to grind your hips against him.
“Then let me make up for all the time I’ve been away from my wife.”
You giggle when he draws you on top of him. You straddle his thigh as Jungkook leads your face down to his mouth. It’s an impatient and longing kiss, the type that has your mind bewitched, compelling you into chanting his name in a never-ending rhythm.
Jungkook rids himself of his sweatpants, tossing them to the ground with his feet.
Your hips continue to move on his now bare thighs, moving your kisses to from his lips to his neck. He doesn’t like having marks on his neck, but you can’t help but feel a little selfish when you start sucking on his skin. Just merely a second after, Jungkook pulls at your hair.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he questions with a sharp gaze.
“Having fun?” Your desire to leave a little hickey might also stem from media outlets starting to question why Jungkook and you haven’t been spotted together recently, but you’d rather not admit that. You don’t want him to think that you care about public perception, even though Jungkook is very well aware of it all. You just like to pretend it doesn’t affect you.
You just can’t wait for the photos tomorrow when you will show up in a cute outfit with Jungkook holding your hand, a small love bite adorning his neck after not making a public appearance with him for a couple weeks.
He sniffs a laugh. “Just can’t help it, can you?”
“Never.” You bat your eye lashes.
His hands are on your waist, encouraging your slow movements. He bunches the soft material of your baby blue nightgown in his palms, staring at your clothed pussy.
“I can feel how wet you are for me.” His eyes move with the motions of your hips, a gentle smirk capturing his lips. “What’s gotten you so worked up, babe?” He flexes his thigh, coaxing a gasp from you.
“You.” You’re already a little breathless, his heartbreakingly handsome face fuelling the deep desire of needing more.
Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Have I not been taking care of my love? Hm?” Jungkook asks you in mock sympathy.
You nod, pressing your palms against his ripped chest while your hips grind a bit rougher on his thigh.
“I’m sorry.” He traces your bottom lip, gentleness coating his words. He pops his finger into your mouth, making you suck on it. You swirl your tongue around it until he withdraws his finger, sneaking it in your panties and pressing it against your sensitive clit.
A whine flies past your lips at his touch, moving even faster.
“You’re gonna cum for me like this?” He starts circling the pad of his thumb on your clit.
Arching your back, you lean in for a kiss, uttering little moans of his name against his lips. You can feel the smug smirk on his mouth, can feel his possessiveness in the way he squeezes your ass and hear it in the loud smack that echoes through the room after his palm collided with your butt.
When you feel the pleasure exploding within you, you bury your face into Jungkook’s neck. Your body trembles. Jungkook tilts his head and gingerly pecks your temple, hands skimming over your back.
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
Jungkook puts you on your back, tugging off your panties and carelessly throws them away. He does the same to his pair of black briefs.
You watch him spit on his dick and stroke his hard cock while you get comfy on the pillows. Jungkook rubs his tip over your soaked pussy, leisurely pressing his dick inside when his head is against your entrance.
“Fuck, I missed your pussy.” He wraps your legs around his waist, staring at how your pussy takes his entire length.
As he moves his cock, his hand raises to your head to tame your chaotic hair. You pucker your lips a little and he instantly answers your silent request with a smooth press of his mouth against yours.
“Want your vibrator?” he asks.
“Too sensitive.” Your nails graze his back, your feet keeping him close to you.
Jungkook pushes your silky nightgown past your tummy and over your tits. He loves watching them bounce as he thrusts his cock into your pussy. He gropes them, toying a little with your nipple as he swipes his spit over your nub. His eyes are practically glued to the supple swells on your chest.
Until he finds something prettier than your tits. Your face.
He wears a boyish smile on his face when you meet his gaze. You bite your lip, pleasure and giddiness swirling through you.
“Taking my cock so well,” he praises. “Such a good slut for daddy.”
You gulp, teeth sinking further into your lip.
He lowers his head, pulling your earlobe between his lips before he whispers, “Right? You love being a good slut for daddy.”
Chills spreads over your neck and you manage a meek nod as loud whines escape your throat.
“Use your big girl words,” Jungkook demands. “Tell me whose girl you are. You can do that, can’t you?” His voice turns sweet again, though the taunting glint remains in his eyes. Your pussy foolishly clenches.
“I’m daddy’s girl,” you utter with bright eyes.
Jungkook flashes you his dimples. Excitement spreads in your tummy at his approval.
“Open,” he instructs and you part your mouth. He drops a tiny bead of saliva in your mouth. With one hand around your throat, he feels you swallowing it. “Good girl.”
He pushes the back of your thighs towards your body, picking up on his speed.
“Jungkook,” you moan weakly.
“Gonna fill this pussy with my cum.”
He pounds you faster, harder, filling the room with filthy sounds.
“I’m close,” you mumble, fingers clawing at the bed.
“Cum with me,” he rasps.
Jungkook grunts your name and you feel yourself topple over the edge as his tip kisses the sweet spot inside you, repeatedly hitting it until your hands fly up to his shoulders and nails dig into his skin.
His hips still, painting your pussy white. Jungkook plants slow kisses on your collarbone, trying to catch his breath.
When he pulls out, his cum follows, but he pushes your mixed juices back inside. You moan lightly, tapping your feet against his back to tell him to get you something to clean you up.
But Jungkook remains on top of you just a little longer. “You did so good,” he whispers. He catches your left hand and pecks the ring that adorns your finger. “I love you.”
“Love you,” you mutter back, a tiny, exhausted smile curving your mouth.
“Forever.” With a doting kiss he conceals the promise he has been making to you for four years.
Getting off the bed, he puts on his briefs and disappears into the bathroom to fetch a warm cloth. When he returns to clean you up, he is gentle with you, peppering kisses on your tummy and thighs and flashing cute smiles your way as he does it.
With his sweatpants and now dirty cloth he walks back into the bathroom.
“Have you thought about costumes for the Halloween party?” you ask him.
“Halloween party?” His voice ricochets through the bathroom.
“Chanyeol’s Halloween party,” you remind him as he saunters back into the bedroom. The grey sweatpants hang dangerously low on his hips. “Wanna go through my Pinterest board? I collected some cute ideas.”
He grabs white lacy panties from the dresser. “It’s in two weeks?” Jungkook helps you slip on the new panties, ducking down to press a light peck on the little bow sitting on the centre of it. “I’ll see if I can find the time.”
You look at him puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Jungkook rakes his hand through his messy hair. “You know I’m extremely busy at the moment.”
“But we always go to Chanyeol’s party.” You reach for his hand, tugging him closer to the bed. Disappointment pulls your lips into a pout.
Chanyeol’s Halloween party is always big, extravagant and ridiculously dramatic, but that is exactly what makes it fun. You love extravagance. Love dressing up.
Jungkook’s finger brusher over your dainty ring. “You can still go. You don’t need me to go with you.”
You drop his hand with a frustrated huff. It’s not the response you wanted to hear. “Missing out on Jimin’s birthday last week wasn’t enough?” you ask disdainfully. A bit mean. You don’t care.
“I’m not doing it purposefully.” He levels you with reproving eyes. “I wish I could’ve come.”
You tuck your feet back underneath the blanket, pulling it up to your lap. “Just squeeze in a little time for the party.” You almost add a “please?”, but you’re feeling terribly annoyed; the kind that makes you unconsciously clench your jaw and pull your brows so tightly, they practically touch.
“I’m not going to schedule around a silly Halloween party, ___.” His tone drips with irritation.
“Fine,” you reply, scooching back on the bed. “Don’t know why I even bothered.”
“Love.” It’s a futile attempt at taming the sudden raging anger that crawled up your neck.
“You’ve been doing this constantly, Jungkook.”
He still stands in front of the bed. Tongue poking his cheek as he debates his next words. He swipes his hand over his face, sighing into his palm.
“You don’t understand,” he grumbles annoyed.
“I know you don’t.”
Jungkook scoffs at your reply – even wears a crooked, ridiculing smile. An angry flush appears on his cheeks.
“Let’s not do this before bed,” he suggests. Tiredness is written all over him.
We’re already in the middle of it. But you keep that to yourself. You don’t have the energy for a bigger fight. He’s drained it from you from all the fights the nights before this.
“I don’t care anymore,” you say. “Shouldn’t have asked you anyway.”
Jungkook turns off the little lamp on his bedside table before he gets into bed. You turn your back to him.
Your heart is heavy with confusing emotions as you lie there in silence. You almost feel your eyes well up with tears, but you blink them away as soon as you feel them.
“Want me to accompany you to your appointment?” Jungkook asks suddenly.
“No.” Yes.
“I’ll start work a little later.” Jungkook’s hand sweeps across your tense shoulders. You must’ve unintentionally stiffened at the mention of your gynaecologist appointment. “I know you’re a little anxious.”
As sleep gradually embraces you a little later, you try to pull back every time invisible strings tug you closer towards Jungkook. You don’t want to sleep in his arms this night, but your heart stubbornly ignores what your mind wants.
Your silent resistance eventually ends, surrendering to the inevitability of your limbs becoming entwined with his. Your cheek is pressed against his chest and his nose is buried in your hair while the soft cadence of his heartbeat finally lulls you into a deep slumber.
This is just the way Jungkook and you function.
Yet, despite your efforts, small seeds of doubt continue to sprout up in your mind, making you question just how much longer you can tolerate this.
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angelltheninth · 6 months
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Arthur Morgan Teaches You How to Ride Him
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, dick riding, guidance, encouragement, inexperience, age-gap
A/N: Can we all agree that he is the hottest cowboy dilf?
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"You wanna sit on there nice and slow sweetheart. Know you're eager for it but don't hurt yourself now." That was funny coming from the man who was just in a bar fight. You can still see the bruising on his knuckles and see where his lip was split. "Did seeing me fight do it for you? So wet down there, I'm thinking it just might've."
"It's not the fight I promise you." Maybe a little but more of it was Arthur's charm and boldness. And how delicately he treated you. Sure you knew he could give you a rough pounding, enough to potentially break the bed but he was set on teaching you something new today.
Today was a riding lesson. Dick riding to be exact.
You tried to take him in right away, which proved a little painful even with how slick you were. You balanced yourself on your knees above his hips, your pussy touching the red tip of his cock, hands on his chest, feeling the chest hair and the scars from knives and bullets. This sounded much easier then it proved to be when he suggested it.
"I might not be as young as I used to be but I'll still throw my fists for a pretty young lady's honor." Arthur wanted to protect you as much as he wanted to corrupt your mind with all sorts of sinful ideas, such as meeting him night after night, sneaking out just to fuck him, "Besides I reckon none of those wannabe tough guys back there could teach you half the things I know. Ain't that right baby?" His hands pushed you down with the right amount that you felt the pressure, but not enough to bruise as the cockhead pushed just past your entrance. "There we go, right where my cock should be. Now I want you to start rolling your hips downwards, slowly, until you're able to fit the whole thing inside there."
Your hips started moving, breath hitching with every inch of his cock that you managed to take. You've taken it plenty of times in the past but you were never the one on top, and even with this newfound control you had over the movements you thought it better to listen to Arthur's advice then take him all at once. Instead on the feeling of lust you focused on how his cock stretched you open more and more, causing you to tighten and release around him, looking at his smile which grew wider and wider until settling on a permanent grin when you took his whole length.
"Atta girl." With his feet firmly planted on the bed Arthur folded his arms behind his head to enjoy himself to the fullest. "Gotta say I'm real comfy like this."
"Yeah? Am I making you feel good, Arthur?" A big, satisfied smile split across your face. Your hips were still touching him when you tried wiggling around a bit, feeling every inch of his twitching cock, perfectly angled to hit your deepest spots, "Can you tell how good you make me feel too?"
"I'd be worried if I didn't. You're gonna need to go up slowly, repeat the sliding until it goes in smoothly for you, then you can start to pick up the pace. Be sure to keep your balance too, because sometimes," He pushed his hips upwards, making you moan his name along with a deep whimper, "you might get yourself a surprise or two."
Nodding you let his body settle back down and you on top of him again, filled with his cock and the new found confidence that you could make him feel just as good as he made you feel.
3K notes · View notes
luveline · 6 months
Note
hi, i have a request for hotch if that's okay with you :)
when they're on the jet, yn is smiling a lot at her phone so the team starts to tease her because the think that she has a mysterious boyfriend. and she does, but he's sitting right next to her and he's also wondering who's making her smile like that since it's clearly not him
tysm!
Hotch is trying hard to award you your privacy, but your smile makes it difficult. You're actually squared away from him despite sitting in the seat beside him of your own free will, your phone to your chest, a huge smile curved across your cute mouth. 'Cute mouth', Hotch thinks to himself with derision. He's thoroughly whipped for you. It might not work out. 
You've been secretive and strange on your phone for an hour now. With nothing left to do but wait for the jet to touch down, you can watch whatever or text whenever you want. Hotch just wishes it wasn't so distracting. Who are you texting? He feels ill. 
"Who's that?" 
The dam finally breaks. As soon as Morgan asks, Emily pipes up, "Yeah, who is it?" as Rossi laughs and declares, "I know that look. Young Y/N's in love." 
You side eye Hotch. "Workplace harassment," you say. 
"Who is it?" Hotch asks. 
You gawp but laugh at his unprofessional questioning, pressing your phone screen tight to your chest. "Hotch, it's–" 
"Your not-so-secret boyfriend? Come on, we all know you have one," Morgan says. 
"I know you know, you're like sharks," you say, giving them all a great long look. 
For weeks now, you've glowed. This overzealous smiling and laughing is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Your nosy coworkers can't hold back their curiosity any longer. Hotch was stupid enough to think that your secretive dates and nights spent curled in on one another might be the reason behind your new hopped up sprightliness, but apparently not. 
"So you admit it!" Emily cheers. 
"Maybe. But it's not what's happening on my phone." 
"Well, what is it?" Spencer asks. 
They've leaned in on you, a circle of eager faces. Your sudden decision to admit you —maybe— have a boyfriend is as much as anyone's gotten out of you in weeks. If anyone could tease the truth from you, of course it's Hotch, and so the team looks to their leader pleadingly. 
He's not sure he wants to know. "They won't leave you alone otherwise," he says, hoping that his expression shows his leniency. Your secrets are your own if you want to keep them. 
You smile at him. Again, he thinks you have a cute mouth, and that he's biassed but you definitely smile sweeter at him than anyone else. You and Hotch know something the others don't, amusement like light behind your irises. "I'll show you," you say smugly, "and only you, Hotch." 
"Typical," Morgan murmurs, sitting back on the couch. 
Hotch clenches his sweaty palms beneath the table. "Alright." 
You lean in against his shoulder. Your phone turns on, and he's taking deep breaths as you click to your photo app, and then an album labelled with a simple, '<3'. 
It's photos of him. Most he knows you took, sitting across from you in dark restaurants or kneeling in your apartment putting together a new set of drawers. Your giggles begin in earnest as you swipe through them to a more recent photograph. You couldn't have taken it more than a week ago, when he'd stayed the night with you by accident, too tired to leave. His face is slack in sleep. He realises it's a video when you click a button and the sound of crinkling fabric plays from your speaker. In the video, you unbutton the tight collar of his shirt, stroking his neck briefly with a loving knuckle. The video moves down to frame his arm, his hand clinging to your other one like a sucker. 
Hotch looks up from the video and blinks at you. Your hand on his sleeping neck, the sound of your tired laughter —he can't not smile. "Oh. That's…"
"What did you show him?" Morgan asks, his voice coloured with both amusement and frustration. The team echo his question.
"I can't kiss and tell," you say, still tucked up by his side. 
"I think it's best if you don't, L/N," Hotch agrees. 
He'd lose all credibility. 
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soumies · 3 months
Text
⋆⭒˚。⋆ f. megumi x gn!reader. if there are any typos, no there aren't.
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keeping secrets was not your forte.
so when december rolls around and yuuji sends you a message about a very top secret, very hush-hush, very much surprise party... well. really, that was his mistake.
you've been avoiding megumi like the plague, coming up with nonsense excuses not to see him, making plans to occupy your time, keeping texts and calls short. guilt gnaws at you, making your stomach clench as you watch your phone ring, ring, ring. megumi's contact picture shortly disappearing.
you sigh, wiping your wet hands with the kitchen towel. mini cakes and chocolates sit on the countertop, cooling. icings and sprinkles in all his favorite colors are lined up next to the stove, waiting to be piped and handed off to your lover with a sweet kiss and a mumbled happy birthday against his lips.
a frantic knock sounds at your front door, drawing your brows together as you make your way across your apartment living room. it's probably yuuji again, hoping your had more tape or an extra pair of scissors.
what you're not expecting when you open the door is a panting megumi with ruddy cheeks and snowflakes melting in his hair. there's a scarf haphazardly strewn across his shoulders, and his mittens are missing, knuckles gone red from the bite of winter.
“you mad at me or something?” it comes out rushed, spilling from his mouth before he even says hello. he stands in your doorway, deep, green eyes boring into yours.
"megumi, wha—" you gape, like a fish out of water.
"mad. are you mad at me?" he presses, an uncharacteristic franticness lacing his voice that refuses to leave. "did i say something wrong?" he eyes the ground where he stops himself from shaking the snow off his boots, shoulders slumping forward.
"i just—" megumi sighs, cheeks going pinker and you're sure it's not from the cold. "gojo has held me hostage all day, kugisaki won't stop blowing up my phone, i have a feeling itadori's doing something he shouldn't be, and—"
tentatively, megumi brings his gaze back to you, with your wide eyes and mouth hung open on words that won't come out. soft is how you'd describe it, his whispered plea in the form of such a simple, simple question, "where have you been?"
the wind howls outside, a gust of chilled air tousling megumi's already messy head of hair. he pays it no mind when you're standing in front of him, your own hair tied back and a dirty apron covering your front. you have half a mind to fling yourself down the stairs he just climbed to get to you, because you've really messed up if you're the one who's put that expression on his face.
you'll blame it all on yuuji. you tell him as much.
megumi's brow pinches, mostly in confusion but also annoyance because, "what does he have to do with this?"
"everything," you groan, cursing the pink-haired boy out in your head. "he should've known better," you mutter, rolling your eyes and running a hand over your face.
the gears turn and turn and turn in his head, you can see them as he overthinks, as his skin turns pale. the wind howls again. "itadori... did you guys—?" he can't even finish his sentence. megumi thinks he's going to be sick.
"oh my god, no. megumi, no." you heave, blood running cold because you did not cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend! finally, your brain starts functioning again and you pull him inside, grabbing the lapels of his black winter coat.
he stumbles in your grip, a shocked little noise escaping him when you wrap your arms around him, shoving your head into his chest. "it's nothing like that. i'd never do that to you. we'd never do that to you." he deflates in your embrace, running his cold hands up your spine and into your hair, holding you close.
"then what is it? i've hardly seen you lately," he comments, concern seeping into his voice.
"i can't tell you," you whine, burrowing further into him in hopes of getting away from the guilt that reaches for you.
"hey," he whispers, gently pulling you away so he can look in your eyes, frustration swirling in your irises. "is something wrong?" damn him for being so gentle with you.
you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze. "no," you punch out, "well– yes, but. uuugh!" you groan again, high-pitched and frazzled as you screw your eyes shut. it wasn't supposed to be like this. a silly surprise party shouldn't have you this stressed, shouldn't have your boyfriend running in the middle of winter to see you because you can't keep your mouth shut.
"talk to me."
"i can't," you insist again, but this time steeling yourself with a deep breath. "but i promise, everything is fine. i've just been busy wrapping up some last minute things. i think the cakes should be ready soon for the party tonight, i just have to—"
oh, for heaven's sake.
"party?" you can hear the amusement in his voice.
your face falls. "i really can't keep anything from you, can i?" defeated, you lean into him once more, cheek squished against his shoulder as megumi holds back his laugh. "happy birthday, megs. i'm sorry for being shitty today," you sigh, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his still-cold cheek.
"it's okay," he murmurs into your hairline. strong arms snake around your torso, cradling you against him like you're something precious. "you're talking about the party at 7, right? the one at maki's place?" his chest rumbles as he speaks, teasing words curling around your bodies.
with an incredulous huff, you whine into his skin, "you knew?"
he has the gall to scoff at you, like it was painfully obvious this whole time. his right hand comes to cup the side of your face, pulling your jaw forward to plant a chaste kiss to your lips. "of course i knew, baby. itadori can't keep a secret to save his life."
you're really going to kill him.
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rb to add a candle to his birthday cake. hope you enjoyed this! <333
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darling--core · 18 days
Text
⤷ YANDERE NERD .ᐟ dakota b.
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ʚ⁺˖↬ INFO.     male yandere x gn!reader, 3.0k word nsfw/18+ oneshot. READ PART ONE HERE.
ʚ⁺˖↬ CONTENTS.     sub!male yandere, reader has no mentioned genitals, general yandere/obsessive behavior, panty/underwear sniffing, getting caught, reader is a mild sadist, degradation, (male) whimpering, handjob, edging/denial
ʚ⁺˖↬ NOTES.     it's a good thing that writing pathetic men comes so easily to me because i was freaking myself tf out over this one <3
my patreon saw this one week early! if you want to view my early access content and receive patreon exclusive works, join my patreon!
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dakota stands on the other side of the door to your dorm room, and he feels like he’s going to throw up.
your name is printed right there on the door, on a little name plate. he can’t find the bravery to knock, not yet, not when his stomach is so full of butterflies; he runs his fingers through his hair, trying to get the trembling in his fingers under control before he works himself up to knock on the door.
he’s been anxious before; he’s never been the most social, the most confident, the most outgoing. he was always more of the wallflower, the one who didn’t speak until someone spoke to him. but this was different— it felt almost like his entire life had, somehow, led up this very moment, where he was standing outside your door and waiting for you. always, for you.
he swallows thickly, taking a deep breath. just don’t act like a fucking freak, he tells himself, just be normal, do whatever they need for the project. you can do that. you can do that much for them, at least. don’t mention any of the other shit.
the other shit, of course, being that he’s thought about you nonstop since they day he met you in class. how your fingers felt when they brushed up against his, how the sound of your voice rolled over his skin like warm oil, how the taste of your name felt rolling off his tongue.
finally, he raises his hand— the last thing he needs is to make himself late to your study date because he’s too busy standing out in the hallway reminiscing, getting hard all over again just from the mere thought of you. his knuckles rap against the wood of your door, and he hears shuffling around inside, before footsteps come closer— and the door opens.
all the pep talks, all the lead up, and his breath is taken away almost the second it swings open, and you stand in front of him. fuck. he forced himself to smile, hoping it didn’t come out awkward or forced.
“kota!” you greeted, and his heart leapt into his throat at the shortened nickname. did you think you guys were that close already? close enough to call him by a nickname? “just on time, come on in— my dormmate’s gonna be gone for most of the night, so go ahead and make yourself at home,” you say, stepping out of the way of the doorway and ushering him inside. your eyes are on him, and it’s almost like he can feel it the same as if you were to reach out and touch him. he feels a zing up his spine, and he has to force himself to ignore it.
“thanks,” dakota breathes in, the smell of you mingling with the cool air; there’s some notes of something off, a shampoo or a body spray that he doesn’t recognize, and he thinks that must be your roommate. there’s a weird, sharp feeling in his gut, almost… annoyed that he can’t breathe in the raw, unfiltered smell if you without something else getting in the way. he enters, stepping past you, shoes tapping softly against the linoleum floor. his fingers clench around the strap of his bag, which is thrown over his shoulder, subtly wiping away the sweat that seems to have mysteriously formed on his palms.
he turns to look back at you as you close the door behind him, locking it out of habit. you face him, hand falling away from the doorknob, and smile at him again.
“brought all the stuff we need,” dakota says, a bit abruptly, forcing himself to not fall into the spiral of staring at your perfect face and getting lost in the way you smile. he shrugs his shoulder, a small gesture to the school bag hanging off it, heavy with classic literature textbooks. “for whenever you want to get started.”
“oh, cool,” you say, brushing past him casually as you head further into the room, to where one of the dorm desks is pushed against the foot of a bed— it must be your bed, he thinks, his eyes tracing the shape of it, memorizing the way the blankets on top are folded and arranged, counting how many pillows you have. he’s not sure what he would have pictured, but this feels right. it feels like you. his eyes snap back to you in the middle of your next sentence, reprimanding himself for missing even a word of it. “…about project distribution?”
he scrambles for a second, before deciding to play it safe, nodding his head. “uh, yeah— sure.”
“great,” you say, and he breathes an inward sigh of relief that you didn’t seem to notice his lapse in attention. you shift the desk chair a bit to the side, and move across the room to your roommate’s side to grab their desk chair as well. dakota swallows, standing still in the middle of the room; the desk is big enough for you both to comfortably work at, but the idea of sitting so close to you…
you turn back to him, and your smile once again catches him off guard.
“c’mon, come sit down, make yourself comfortable,” you offer, sensing the awkwardness that runs through him on some level and trying to make it a little easier for him. he watches you pull out your chair and settle down into it before pushing out his chair as well. your gaze pulls him in, gets his feet moving finally, and he shuffles across the floor towards your desk, and lowers himself down into the seat next to you.
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it’s almost disarming how easy it is to fall into a rhythm with you.
calm, lofi music plays from your phone, sitting on the raised back of the desk in between the two of you. you work in a comfortable silence— dakota, however, is occasionally thrust back into the reality of the situation everytime your elbow brushes against his, or you shift in just the right way and the smell of  your shampoo wafts towards him. he’s pretty sure the only saving grace in his life right now is the fact that you haven’t been talking, which has given him less chances to absolutely embarrass himself, and even less chances to get turned on by just the sound of your voice.
dakota startled slightly as you groaned, setting your pencil down and leaning back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head.
“i’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you announce, putting you hands on the desk and pushing back, your chair skidding on the floor before you stand up. “’s just down the hall, so i’ll be right back. oh– there's a vending machine on the way, want me to grab something?”
dakota quickly lifts his head. “no– no, don’t worry about it, i’m okay,” he says, like he can't imagine asking you to do anything for him.
you shrug your shoulders. “m’kay. be right back,” you say again, pulling your shoes back on before you make your way out of the dorm room. dakota swears he can feel the temperature of the room drop when you disappear.
the door closes behind you, and he hears your receding footsteps down the hallway. he was suddenly overcome with the urge to get up, to look around, to touch and see and search– it itched under his skin, a restless energy that was all consuming.
maybe just… a quick look around. you wouldn't know if he looked at a few things, right? he could be fast– he could be discreet. he wouldn't even steal anything this time–
and then, as he begins to look around for a starting point, he spots the hamper of dirty clothes on your side of the room, butted up against the closed wardrobe in the corner behind your desk. simultaneously, he feels a sinking in his stomach– because he already knows he’s not going to be able to pass this up– and a wave of warmth rolling over his skin.
he swallowed thickly, suddenly aware of the heat in the room and his body, the sweat he could feel breaking out at the back of his neck and his palms. with a quick glance back to the closed door, dakota stood up, his feet carrying him the short distance that it took to get from the desk to the wardrobe.
the hamper was full; you must not have done laundry for a little while. he stood hesitantly in front of it, his eyes tracing over the crumpled fabric inside, nearly spilling out over the top. he could recall the days you wore some of those clothes– that t-shirt, those pants.
and then– peeking out near the top of the pile, under a pair of jeans all crumpled up and turned inside out… he spies a swath of fabric that is definitely underwear.
he can’t stop himself.
with shaky fingers, he reaches out and tugs it free. he holds it in his hands for a second, fingers running across the waistband and the seams. his head fills with some of the most vulgar thoughts he thinks he’s ever had, and he can’t help it, not when your underwear is right there in his hands. there isn't an alternative: he lifts the fabric, and presses to his face, covering his nose and his mouth. his glasses are bumped up to the top of his nose, pressing into his skin, and his shoulders rise and fall as he takes in a deep inhale. his senses are flooded with the muted smell of you, raw and musky.
the groan that he lets out as he exhales is involuntarily, spilling out of him as blood rushes from his head and straight to his cock. he holds the fabric over his face with one hand, his eyes fluttering closed, and his other hand snakes down to palm at the bulge at the front of his jeans that is suddenly almost painful. he feels dizzy, head rush over taking him as he breathes in another deep breath.
his legs feel weak as he palms at himself, just barely managing to control himself enough to keep his hand from pushing past the waistband of his jeans.
he needs to stop– needs to drop this and get back in the chair and try desperately to hide his raging hard on. he pulls the fabric away from his face, reluctantly, his head swimming. he pauses just once more, pulling his other hand away from his jeans to run his fingers over the underwear, wondering what it would feel like wrapped around his cock, considering breaking his earlier rule and shoving them in his pocket–
“oh my god– what the fuck are you doing?”
kota felt his blood run cold, and his head snapped to the door– only for his gaze to land on you, standing there in the doorway, watching him. he felt his world crash down around him, blood pumping through his veins as he scrambled to do anything but stand there and look like and absolute fucking creepy.
“i-i…” he stuttered, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth, his throat feeling too tight to breathe, lungs constricting. a cold sweat broke out over his skin, and he finally forced himself to drop the underwear back into your hamper as if they had burned him. “it’s not what it looks like, i–”
he finally registered the look on your face as you took a slow step into the room, pulling the door shut behind you and locking it. your gaze trailed down, away from his face– and to the tent at the front of his jeans. something flickered in your eyes, a heat that made dakota want to melt into the floor even as your lips curled in disgust. holy shit– were you into this?
“oh, it's not what it looks like? so you weren’t just getting off over my dirty underwear like a complete fucking pervert?”
dakota stands there dumbly, your words shooting through him like a flash of lightning, shame and arousal flooding his senses. you sound disgusted, but he doesn't miss the intrigue in your eyes, and fuck– if he gets any more rock hard he might just pass out from the lack of blood in his brain.
“well?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest, taking a single step closer. “i asked you a question, didn't i? is that not what you were doing?”
dakota opens his mouth, but you quickly add: “and don't you dare lie to me.”
swallowing thickly, dakota feels like his knees might just give out. “i… was,” he admits, shame crawling across his skin like squirming insects, a painful shiver up his spine.
you scoffed, lips curling back as you looked him up and down, shaking your head. “jesus. who knew you were such a creep?” you say, the venom laced into the word ‘creep’ doing nothing but making dakota feel weak in the knees. he could tell the front of his boxers was slick with precum, and any minute now the front of his jeans would be wet with it too.
and then you started to advance on him.
dakota can't move, his feet rooted to the spot like they’re glued to the floor. he only steps back when you get too close, pressing your hand against the center of his chest and forcing him back until his shoulder-blades hit the wardrobe, followed by his spine as he presses himself back all the way.
blood rushes through his ears, his heart pounding so fast it might just give up at any moment– and you press against him, like you’re trying to kill him. dakota sucks in a breath, the aching between his legs unbearable, especially when your hips brush up against it… and then your hand flattens against his stomach, before slowly sinking down.
“you weren’t just looking, were you? no, i bet you were sniffing them like a creep, huh?” you taunt, his face flushing more red than you’ve ever seen.
his heart feels caught in his throat, his body practically vibrating with a nervous energy that he fears might just tear him apart at the seams. he wants to touch you, but he doesn't move– doesn't dare cross that line until you tell him he can, if you ever do. you quirk a brow at him expectantly, your hand stopping on his lower stomach when he doesn't answer, a subtle threat. it kicks him back into gear.
“…yes,” he admits, his voice coming out weak and shaky. but the corners of your lips quirk up into a barely contained grin, which you quickly conceal as your hand starts moving again.
his hips jerk involuntarily as your palm presses against the outline of his cock, and he swears he can see his entire life flash before his eyes.
“wow,” you comment, “you’re really worked up. all this just from  creepin’ around in my laundry?” your palm slides over the denim, stroking him subtly through his clothes, and dakota swears he might just melt into a puddle on the floor.
“jesus–” he gasps through clenched teeth, and he can feel the front of his jeans beginning to get damp, your hand applying pressure and forcing the mess of precum staining his clothes to soak through.
you keep him pressed back against the wardrobe, your hand rubbing against him. “you really are pathetic, aren’t you? bet i could make you cum in your pants and barely even have to lift a finger to do it.”
the sound that tumbles out of his lips is half broken, too close to a whimper for him to feel anything but ashamed. but the look in your eyes is nearly triumphant— sadistic and still part disgusted, so reeled in by his pathetic display that you just can’t quite stop.
your fingers work to unbutton his jeans, reaching inside before his brain can even catch up with whats happening. his head is absolutely spinning— how did he get here? how did this happen? did he die, and this is his version of a fucked up heaven?
but then your hand is yanking down his jeans and his boxers, and your skin touches his, and fuck. he can’t think about anything anymore, not when your fingers wrap around his aching cock, becoming slick with the precum that’s smeared all over his length. just a single touch from you, and he’s practically coming undone; you have him so worked up, just by existing. nothing else has ever felt this good… nothing else will ever feel this good, and he knows it. his hips jerk as you tighten your grip, stroking up and down.
“you should see the look on your face,” you tease, your tone mocking and cruel and sinking down into the burning depths of his gut, adding gasoline to the fire.
“f-fuck— please, i’m—” dakota pants, the muscles in his abdomen tightening, a tingling sensation taking root in his limbs. his fingers reach for you, and his hands plant themselves on your hips, desperate to ground himself— to feel anything, to feel you. you let him, let his long fingers curl around your sides, dull nails digging into the fat of your hips.
“aw, what– you’re gonna cum already? you’re gonna make a mess in your pants from just my hand? i’ve barely even touched you.” you taunt, tilting your head at him, and dakota struggles to hold onto your words. a strangled cry gets caught in his throat, coming out as a choked moan as he clenches his teeth together, hips bucking against your hand, fucking into the circle of your fingers.
he’s right on the edge, burning hot and ready to tumble over, ready to feel ecstasy at  your hand—
but then your hand is gone, pulled away just before he can crest that final hill, leaving him bucking into the air and crying out, his hands shaking as they rest on your hips.
“too bad,” you hum nonchalantly. “we have things to do, and you’ve been naughty. maybe i’ll think about letting you finish after we get our work done, hmm?” you taunt, before you hold up your slick hand in front of his face, your fingers sticky with his precum. he pants, his breaths fanning against your fingers, cooling your skin. “now lick it up so we can get back to work.”
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intellectual property of ©️darling--core. do not copy, repost or translate my works without my explicit consent. do not use my works to train ai.
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chrollohearttags · 12 days
Text
good girls finish last • e. jaeger
your best friend was always adamant that he’d have you and he follows through on it in a huge way.
word count: 2.3K
black fem!reader, heavy dom!eren (he’s yandere if you squint), PWOP, overstimulation, back licking, squirting, reader calls him daddy, calls reader princess, growling/marking, orgasm denial. he speaks German/Italian, many other themes I don’t feel like listing
in case you all were wondering what inspired this: enjoy! 🫶🏾
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“Mmmm!…please..”
“Shhh, keep your voice down, baby. I won’t say it again..”
the deep vibrato rang out in your ear in almost a growl like tone..his voice tantalizing and almost honey like as it deeper into your brain. He was trouble..that you had always known since the day you met him. Your best friend of several years, even when everyone else told you otherwise. However, that was of no consequence. Especially when you were certain that he was the only man for you. Someone who saw your flaws as perfections, who thought the world of you even when you seemed insignificant. It was more than what could be said of the man who had you before..hence why he was now there to pick up the pieces.
“..don’t talk, just breathe..that’s all you need to do right now. Just focus on my voice..” the command simultaneous with the sounds and sensation of his thick, warm fingertips fluidly moving in and out of your warmth. Your slick building up on the hilt of his knuckles as he flexed his wrist. His tattooed digits and arm were already decorated in the remnants of your previous orgasms and he was looking to add more to the collection. “I—I just..this isn’t right..we shouldn’t be doing this.” A statement only followed by that same maniacal laughter you had heard many times before and a soft clutch around your throat. “And why is that? Hmm..scared that he’s gonna walk in here? Good, let him see what a real man is supposed to do.” Even so, your chest couldn’t help but to heave with every delicate, calculated movement he made. Working your cunt over with the most intricate of strokes. He occasionally uses his free hand to squeeze your throat or grope your tits that were pulled from your tank top. That thong dangling at your ankles and your plaid skirt flipped up to expose your lower half..he was enjoying this! All of it far more than he should’ve but he couldn’t help himself, really. Eren had been in love with you since the two of you first became acquainted. Those beautiful lips, those thighs and pretty dark skin he found so perfect..the best part was? It was all his!…regardless of how many losers you allowed into your life. You were his lady, forever and always. And he’d make certain that everyone knew it. Removing that hand from your throat, he’d quickly replace it with a trail of gentle kisses. As well as the slight drudge of his teeth up the sensitive skin.
“Don’t you get it? We were always supposed to be together. Just me and you against the world, princess. That’s what you told me, right?” Your answer seemingly coming a moment too late for him, as he snatched your head around to meet his gaze. “Right?!” “Ah!—yes! Yes, daddy..” the name inciting more of a fire in him than before. Truth be told, he knew you liked it. You loved it, in fact. That much apparent by the subtle smirk on your face. “Look at you fucking smiling..admit it, mama. You never loved him. You were only pretending. You always were such a people pleaser..my good girl.” His voice dropped even lower as his fingers elevated to your g-spot once more. Pressing on the fleshy pad and making you writhe in his grasp. You were as good as stuck..you wouldn’t leave this spot. This bed where you and your ex had consummated your relationship several times. And not once did it ever bring you the thrill and rush that fucking Eren did. The way he spoke to you, held you close and made you feel as if he existed solely for you.
“But that’s why I’m here…you don’t have to appease anyone. You can be selfish with me, baby. Give in to what you really want…so tell me..what is that? Tell me what you want me to do…” all the while, his movements became sped up and you were clawing at his tattooed forearm; mere seconds from climaxing whilst he coaxed you through it. “C’mon, closed mouths don’t get fed, princess. Talk to me..” just as smooth as ever and devilish as well. He always had such a way with words and knew exactly how to articulate them to get his wishes. Maybe that’s why so many people despised the cocky brunette. Because he was the total package, head to toe. But an asshole to his core. Still, that didn’t mean shit to him..or you! Through your lens, he was picture perfect and nothing could change that. Working those digits in and out, you’d finally screech and yelp, unable to keep your voice lowered and in response, all he could do was laugh. Knowing that you were trying so hard to spare the feelings of someone you shouldn’t have. You’d quickly cup your hand over your mouth but to no avail.
“Aww, what’s the matter? Don’t want your ‘man’ to hear us? Hear me playing with this lil’ pussy? Afraid it might break his little heart? You’re so considerate..” sarcastically stroking the side of your face with a lilt in his tone. But there was simply no need for you to be so courteous. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. He’s with another bitch right now. Somewhere laid up with a girl who couldn’t even think of competing with you. So why hold back, baby? Why are you trying to fight what’s meant to be for his sake?”
in a moment of haste, Eren retracted his fingers and used them momentarily to pacify your cries. He’d work them in between your jaws and meanwhile, usher you onto all fours. Prompting you to arch your back. Just as quickly, he’d tug those sweatpants down and remove his shirt in the process. He could feel you teeming right on the edge of climatic bliss but he was selfish. He needed to reach that point with you…to feel every bit and part of you as you made it to that point. Once he freed his stiff cock from those boxers, he’d align himself with your slit and immediately begin slapping it against your folds. Leaning down, he’d lace your shoulder blades with those same markings on your neck; biting gently into your flesh like a predator claiming its sweet little prey. Grunting and moaning into your ear how gorgeous you were and how he couldn’t wait to beat your pussy up. You were so delicate, soft and pretty. But he couldn’t help but to defile you..to make you a product of his sick perversions. He’d dreamed of the nights that he could pound this little pussy into oblivion. Making you cream on his shaft until you left him an utter mess..going deep until he forced you to squirt all over him and then shortly after, breed you so that he was with you in more ways than one. Having vivid daydreams of your belly swollen with his kid..it was the ultimate sign of possession!
“Fuck me, Eren! I can’t take it…” “..now where’s those manners you love so much? Say please..” there was that slick mouth. You always loved it when you weren’t the one on the receiving end but seeing as you were about to combust, you were feeding into it. “Please, daddy. I need it so bad..need you to make me come, right now..”
grasping at the sheets beneath you, you’d feel a sharp sting when his palm collided with your asscheek before those same fingers laced your throat. Eren never did like being told what to do but for you?…he could possibly overlook it.
“Shhhh! pazienza, amore mio..” pushing a finger to your lips.
the switch in dialect sending a pang to your stomach. You were always so fond of the fact that he was trilingual, being the son of immigrants. He’d tested it out on you earlier in the night as his tongue drudged between your folds and lapped at your clit. He’d begin complimenting your flavor and scent in his native languages; letting the words ooze like honey.
“We’ll get there when I say so..” suddenly, you’d feel yourself become full as he impaled you on his cock. Shoving that girthy, long member into that swollen heat. It was no time before you acclimated, despite his massive size. It was almost as if you designed just for him. “Ahh…so fucking tight. Just like old times..when you’d sneak out of class or practice, just to come fuck me. Ooh..that pussy felt so good..” Referring to your high school days when you were just alike. Delinquents and deviants only caring about each other. Fast forward and you were trying to get your act together. In college, new job, and supposedly a new man. However, old habits die hard and he was a hell of a one to crack. “You used to be such a slut f’r me. Let’s see if you still have it in you..” mocking whilst he smacked your ass repeatedly, telling you to meet his thrusts. The collision of that plump backside driving him crazy, especially when you reached back voluntarily and spread yourself open; glancing back with a smirk on your face. “Mmm..like that?” “Fuuuck..yeah, there’s my nasty lil’ bitch. Here..open up.” In one fell swoop, Eren tugged your head back and your jaw would fall slack; opening your enough for him to fill it with spit which made you giggle in return.
“Mmm, thank you, daddy..” he couldn’t help but to twitch each time you uttered the moniker. It always did sound so much sexier when you said. “You’re so welcome, princess..thank you for being so patient. I know you wanna come so bad. I want you to..” as he persisted with his speech, his strokes became a bit more sped up. The sounds of clapping flesh growing louder as well as your moans.
“ ‘Rennn…oh my God..” “..that’s right, baby. Pray to me, worship this fucking dick like you used to.” Commanding that you take it. Tightening his grip on the back of your neck, he’d force (y/n) face down, flat on the mattress in a prone position. Now, he could go as fast as he pleased without you faltering. “I’m the only one that can make you feel this good. The fuck were you thinking give my pussy to these fuck ass little boys? Are you crazy?” Seemingly switching his demeanor midway. That side of him always did scare you. But he’d never even so much as entertain the thought of hurting his princess. The only pain he wanted to cause you was consensual and pleasure filled. The kind you’d beg for.
“Nnngh, I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m so fucking sorry..” your voice high pitched and wailing as he pounded you mercilessly. You couldn’t take another minute of this. Your bladder felt as if it were going up burst, your eyes rolling back and tears staining your cheek. But he was inconsolable, thinking about another man in this bed with you. Being inside of you without a clue of how to make you happy. That was his job and his alone.
“It’s okay, it’s okay…don’t cry. I’m not mad at you..I’m just so disappointed that you’d settle like this..” breaking into yet another chuckle whilst his strokes became sporadic. “Please!..I’m so close..” “I know, I know you are..” leaning down to mark your spine with kisses as he lifted you back up and to also rattle off in your ear. “..so let’s get you there, pretty girl..” just then, those strokes would reach maximum speed and you’d find yourself trying to brace but you were coming undone! You could barely keep a grasp on those sheets and he was drilling you like no one’s business. Tugging you back to his chest with that same grasp on your throat, Eren kept talking; coaching you through your orgasm. Telling you when you squeeze and hold your muscles. To not release until he gave you explicit permission. Meanwhile, he’d stroke your clit repeatedly until you were nearly convulsing, trying to hold back. You had always trusted him but this teasing was too much to bear. You had to let go right now! And luckily, he wouldn’t keep you waiting for much longer
“Come for me, princess! Come for me..squirt on my dick! Spritz auf meinen Schwanz..” repeating the phrase a couple times more with a heavy growl and with that accent peeking through, you’d fall apart right there in his grasp, releasing a puddle onto his cock and the linen. You were finished; completely spent and on the brink of collapse. But he was quick to hold you in place and steal one last peck from those pretty lips.
“I love you..I love you so fucking much..you hear me? Don’t you ever leave me again..” his voice faint through his seemingly overwhelming amounts of emotions. He was so happy that you were back where you belonged. In his arms, in his life. Maybe being a goody two shoes got you nowhere and you’d gotten your heart broken trying to do the right thing…
“I love you more, baby..I’m right here..”
and hell, maybe good girls did finish last but if this was what was waiting at the end of the line?
“I’ll never leave you again, Eren. I promise.”
you’d fall behind every time!
@dancingwithdeities @iadoreprettygirls @arminsbbymami
@shamelesshoefairy @chiquititaosita @greenieweeniesworld @ichigosluvrr @thickbihhwitdagapp
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babiexiao · 9 months
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HAND HOLDING WITH THE GENSHIN MEN
contains : fem!reader, smut (yeah this is smutty not soft sry not sry <3 lmaooo), mentions of cervix fucking, size kink, tummy bulges, breeding / impregnation kink, creampies woohoo, oooh the praise in this has me going a lil insane tbh, some degradation too, lots of oral, fingering, soft doms *sniffles* my weakness. includes scenarios for zhongli, kaeya, dain, tighnari, xiao and childe. this is not proof read at all, please ignore any mistakes i will not be fixing them cause i'm lazy :D
i thought about this scenario with xiao and then i spiralled from there. sorry not sorry i needed to get this out of my system actually... i am so unwell bye. likes / reblogs are appreciated and feedback is always welcomed <3 minors dni !!
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zhongli : oh he is so big. listen, everythingggggggg about him is big okay, he's literally a dragon like? his hands? big. height? bIG. cock(s)? BIIIIG and he thrives off being big. sinks his cock into you while being in a half dragon form just because his dick is bigger than his human form. golden horns on top of his head, the colour of his skin changing from his normal pale one to somewhat mixed. hues of black, orange, yellow and golden the further you travel down his body. his hands and fingers are slightly longer in this form. nails coloured black, almost resembling claws. he enjoys this form because it lets him keep his human-ness but it also embraces his past. his favourite form when you two get intimate because he wants to see your cunt struggle to take him. "there you go darling, takin' me in so well." he'd whisper as his tip pushes past your entrance, thumb rubbing against your clit. "loosen up for me, that's it." as your cunt begins to flutter around himjdhfhf aaaaa don't even get me started on the bulge he'd make in your tummy :( it's inevitable. he's just so damn big.
favourite position is you on your back, couple of pillows under your body and him holding your waist to raise your lower half off the bed, claws digging into the flesh of your waist as your cunt clenches around his cock. it's only when he's bottomed out and you're bucking your hips to signal him to move that he'd lace his fingers with yours. pins them above your head. have i mentioned zhongli's big? he's so big that he only really requires one hand to have both your wrists in his hold. daddy zhongli is so strong too, doesn't matter how much you move or thrash around when he fucks you, trying to get your wrists out of his hold so you can just touch him, he doesn't budge. waits for you to really beg, tears in your eyes as you sob out "please, please, please" will he soften up. intertwines his fingers with yours as he rocks his hips slower, but sooo deep. leans over to place a kiss to the top of your head while you thank him for letting go, and he does that every time when you two hold hands :( he's so <3 mm yeah best daddy me thinks.
kaeya : this man,, lord kayea is a wild card in my very humble opinion. he's a tease, we all know this. but i think sex to him is so intimate, especially when it's with someone he would give his heart to on a silver platter. he's like the perfect mix of tease and praise and degradation and somehow giving you what you need all at the same time? idk, just listen okay. the word tease might as well just be kaeya's middle name, he's just that good at it. he likes to hear you beg, plays dumb too. "hmm? my sweet little thing, you're so quiet. what did you say, i'm afraid i missed it." all the while he is knuckle deep into your cunt, fingers curling up juuuust right so they nudge your spot. but only just. he knows your body so well it's almost annoying. the curl of his fingers isn't enough to give you proper satisfaction but it is enough to have you crave for more. enough to make you gasp and buck your hips to try and get the satisfaction you need. "ah ah ah, don't be like that. i can't reward you if you're being a needy slut for me darling. use your words." starts withdrawing his fingers and ultimately you need to grab a hold of his wrist and b e g for him not to do that, beg for his touch. it makes his head go a little dizzy if i'm being honest. "there you go. that wasn't so hard now, was it?" and he gives you what you've been needing :( slender, pretty fingers pushing deeper into you till he physically can't anymore. letting them curl against your spongy spot and making you cum with a cry of his name liiike he thrives off teasing you and giving you what you want.
puts his dirty fingers in your mouth while he kisses your stomach, slowly kissing his way up your body (he is a romantic man after all) and makes sure to give your tits a squeeze too. grabs a hold of your chin to make you look at him as you let go of his fingers with a little pop and presses his lips to yours. it's a little messy, slippery and sloppy but you can feel how in love he is with you. spreads your thighs apart so he can press his hard on against your cunt while you kiss, tangles his fingers with yours while he ruts against your centre like he has all the time in the world :(( he takes it sooo slow, grinding against your cunt, the fabric of his boxers rubbing your clit so nicely, his lips against yours, giving your hands a little squeeze as you fiddle around with the elastic on his boxers. he just holds his body weight up with one hand, the other still tangled up with your fingers as you pull down the material just enough to have his cock out and while he fills you up nicely, he just tightens his hold on your hand cause you feel so tight around him every damn time <33
dainsleif : starting this off by saying he is SO touch starved. honorary member of the touched starved crew. he still gets so shy when he sees you naked in front of him no matter how long it's been. dain might look rough and tough on the outside, but he is so soft for you. he adores kisses your body. your lips? he kiss. your cheek? he kiss. top of your head or your nose? he kiss. inside of your wrist where he can get a slight wiff of your perfume? he kiss. but his favourite you may ask? his favourite type (aside from your lips) of kiss is when you're laid out on the bed. where he's between your legs and he's lifting your shirt off, placing kisses along your tummy, the valley of your breasts, then a gentle kiss underneath your earlobe before he's tossing your shirt to the side and making his way down your body again. this time, he places kisses to both your ankles once your pants are off, kissing up both your legs and your thighs. the last kiss he places is to your clit before his thumb presses against your nub, gentle circular motions that already have you seeing stars. dain rests his head against your thigh as he teases and rubs your clit over and over, watching how your hole clenches around nothing.
"always so pretty for me, aren't you?" another soft kiss to your upper thighs that have you wanting to shut your legs at how sensitive you feel. "keep 'em open, that's it. there you go." he'd say, your trembling thighs spreading once again. he's not the best with words of affection but he'll be damned if he doesn't praise you, let you know how pretty you are. how good you are for him. and when your hands clutch his hair and the bedsheets the closer you get to your orgasm, he'd bring the one that was holding the bedsheets closer to his mouth – dain places a kiss to your wrist, to the tips of your fingers before he slides his fingers against it and lets you grip it. he enjoys holding your hand so much while he does this, i cannot stress that enough. he likes it when you feel real. and it's only then, will he place his mouth on your cunt, letting his tongue tease your folds and dipping into your hole to really get a taste of you. feeling a sense of pride when you gasp and whimper out his name, tightening your hold on his hand as the other one still in his hair, buries his face deeper into your pussy.
tighnari : furry king he's so cute, sighs. like kaeya, sex for him is very very intimate with someone he loves. it's not about getting off, it's more so about the gentle touches, the praises that come from both your lips and his, it's about the way you two latch onto each other when you make love and he will die on that hill. yes every now and then, his animalistic urges take over and it is about a quick fuck but more often than not, he likes to explore your body. he loves it when you're straddling him. his favourite thing to do is feel you up while the both of you kiss. even though tighnari takes it slow, his movements almost feel rushed, desperate to have your clothes off. but it's the gentle kind of desperate, you know? where he wants you to be naked so he can appreciate every dip and every curve on your body without any flimsy layers of clothing in the way. hearts in his eyes even though it's the nth time he's seen you naked. you're wearing nothing, seated on his lap while his eyes dart all over your body, never really able to linger on one part for too long. admires how out of breath you are just from a make-out, lips slightly swollen and pinker than usual. continues to place kisses against your jawline to your neck as his hands grope your hips and thighs, eventually one hand inching closer and closer to your heat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you feel the pad of his thumb finally brush against your clit. "feels good?" he'd mumble against your skin, ears twitching with excitement every time you let out more content noises followed by a soft "yes."
tighnari's good with his fingers, great in fact. he pays attention to your body, listening to every noise and taking mental note of how your body squirms in his hold as he touches you – he's so good that your hands don't really know where they should go. sometimes digging into the skin of his shoulders or his biceps. sometimes when he hasn't riled you up to where the only replies he wets are broken whimpers, they're in tighnari's hair, patting just behind his ears which has him rutting his hips against you, or sometimes they're just tangled in his locks tightly as you need to feel something to ground you. but tighari's favourite is when you plead him for his hand. the little taps against his bicep or wrist make his heart melt, followed by the "hold me, please." it almost makes the animal in him want to manhandle you, toss you on the bed and pin you there while his cock is hitting your cervix and you can't do anything but lay there and just take it. but the rational part of him tells him no. the rational part of him brings your hand to his lips, places a kiss to each and every one of your knuckles before lacing his fingers with yours, all while his other hand is buried knuckle deep in your cunt and being soaked with your juices.
xiao : he is very very very desperate with how he holds your hands. it's more so to remind himself that you're there with him, that you're real. he's a very passionate lover, how could he not be after eons and eons of thinking he's alone? of eons and eons of being alone. he's also a honorary member of the touched starved crew god he is so DJKFDHJGKD i'm so in love w him <333 he just wants to please you okay? like. all the time. every day. whenever you ask him or hint at it, he's ready to give you anything you want. he would do aaaaaanything for you to be honest. he's not very good with words, he knows he's terrible with words. but what he lacks vocally, he makes up for it with his actions instead. slow, but deliberate. almost like he's forgotten all those little stripes and freckles on your skin even though he's been memorising every dip and every mark whenever you two get intimate. gentle, barely there touches while he takes your clothes off, ghosts his fingertips over your pussy and breasts at first. likes it when you inhale sharply but he does give in. he's not much of a tease like kaeya is, gives in so quick. "'m gettin' there. just wait." he'd grumble, but there's no bite behind it all all. places a kiss to your hip bone before he spreads your legs and laps your cunt like a starved man. he's so good with his tongue, i can't stress that enough. another man who makes sure you've came on his tongue or fingers before he thinks about fucking you. the thing about xiao is, he gets pussy drunk so quick, and so very easily. the second he hears you let out a sigh of satisfaction after his mouth is on you, he's gone.
he's soo gone. xiao is an adepti, he's much stronger than humans. it's super easy for him to hold your body down with his hands, whether they be on you waists or even hooked around your thighs, he's not moving his mouth off you until he feels your hole clenching and gushing. or unless you're trying to pry his head off cause you "wan' be filled, please xiao!" flips you onto your back and makes sure your face is pressed into the mattress and your ass is up ohh my goddjghf yeah,, fucks you like that actually, he's pussy drunk. let him bury his cock in your cunt any way he wants plssss. he may not be long, but fuck is he thick. makes you clench the bedsheets while your noises are muffled out by the bed but :( xiao needs to hear you – tugs your back flush against his chest, makes his cock go even deeper in you that you're going dizzy and you're even more dizzier when you feel his fingers on your clit aaaa. firm believer xiao uses one hand too rub your clit while the other turns your head towards him so he can kiss you :(( he loves kissing you so much when you're fucking, tries to kiss you every time before you cum on his cock. it's so romantic for him. feels you cum around his cock and he's trying to hold back a groan but but but that's when he moves his hand that was on your clit to hold yours :( still kissing you too till he orgasms and spills his cum deeep in you and makes out with you for a couple of minutes. doesn't really care how sloppy it is, he just likes kissing you while you hold hands like that :((
childe : listen... childe is actually so romantic (we'll get there soon) i dunno about you. hand holding is his middle name, it's true i've seen the birth certificate. a romantic, mean perv is the best way to describe him. such a tease too. he won't give you what you need till he sees tears in your eyes or you actually start crying. he's kinda mean about it too. gets you sooo close to an orgasm only to just rip it away. "nawww, you cryin sweets?" and proceeds to lick your tears away. "don't cry, you pretty thing. gonna give you what you need, 'kay? just lay back f'me. there you go." smiles darkly when you listen to him again and lay your body flat against the bed again while shaking. and he just keeps doing that until you're full blow sobbing. "aj– ha– 'jax! please.. can' take it a'more... need to c-cum please." and watches you grip his wrists while you cry. it sets him off. he loves that you can get so pathetic for him :( some days when he's made you cry by not letting you cum, his favourite this is having you on top. just to add a little bit more humiliation into the mix. lays down first and gets all comfy without telling you what he's doing and just pats his lap. "not gonna get over here? thought you wanted to cum." has you scrambling over and once you're straddling him he'd put his hands on your thighs and just stroke them since they're shaking so much. but gives them a little slap, just enough for there to be a sound but not enough to hurt when he feels you try to lift your hips to take his cock in "relax baby. didn't i say i'm gonna give you what you need?" hhhh and when your thighs have calmed down and he's made your lips all swollen from kissing you so much will he lift your hips for you, letting you guide his cock into your hole and gives you time to get used to the stretch when he's bottomed out.
while you're taking your time and breathing whilst trying to hold back the orgasm that's approaching once being filled up, he'd let his fingertips trail up your arm, hand cupping the side of your face and rubbing his thumb along your lash line to gather the tears that haven't fallen yet and makes you suck the saltiness away from his thumb... and that makes his cock twitch in you. doesn't let you move though, wants to see how ruined you look before he's even fucked you right. and once he's admired you enough he'd go "c'mere sweets." and proceeds to hold out his hand for you. coos at how your hand is sooo tiny in his though. and he lets his other arm wrap your lower back, essentially he has you resting your head against his tits while you two hold hands. it's gentle, a contrast to how he was being mean to you earlier. as you grind on his cock and the little tufts of hair on his lower tummy make you cum around his cock, he brings your intertwined hands to his mouth and places a kiss to the back of your hand and bucks his hips up into your pussy to get to his high. but the thing is, once ajax feels soft like this, he'd just keep you above him, kiss you and keep holding your hands till he's hard again and fuck you till your lower halves are all messy and sticky.
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deargojou · 2 months
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╔══ஓ๑ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 ๑ஓ══╗
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∷ 𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 ⋯ Gojo Satoru x F!Reader
∷ 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃 ⋯ 2.2K // Fluff. Pet names (baby + angel).
∷ 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈 ⋯ He proposed to you in his dream, and when he wakes up, you’re officially his—to his confusion and delight.
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Gojo slowly blinked open his eyes, gradually emerging from the haze of sleep. He became aware of the warm weight pressed against his side and looked down to see you nestled close, head pillowed on his chest as you continued to slumber. A small, content smile pulled at his lips and he brushed his fingers through your hair, careful not to wake you.
As he admired you in repose, he noticed your hand resting over his heart, fingers loosely curled. The morning sunlight streaming in through the curtains caught on something shiny adorning your ring finger—a delicate band topped with a sparkling gemstone.
His brow furrowed slightly. He didn’t remember proposing, yet here you were wearing what could only be an engagement ring. Carefully, trying not to wake you, he lifted your hand to get a better look at the ring. It was a simple but elegant diamond solitaire on a silver band.
Definitely an engagement ring.
Gojo racked his brain, but he couldn’t recall buying it or asking you to marry him.
A feeling of panic started rising within him. How could he have proposed and not remember it? That didn’t make any sense.
He loved you more than anything, of course, he wanted to marry you someday. But he would never forget something so important.
He glanced back down at your sleeping face, now feeling utterly confused. Where did this ring come from? Did you somehow found out about the ring he hid and decided to just wear it? Or was this some kind of prank? None of the possibilities made sense.
Still puzzled, he sighed and softly set your hand back down and pressed a light kiss to your forehead before carefully extracting himself from your embrace.
You mumbled in your sleep and clutched at the spot he had vacated, making him smile fondly. He tucked the blankets more snugly around you before quietly slipping out of the bedroom.
In the kitchen, Gojo busied himself making tea with tons of sugar cubes and breakfast, all the while turning over the mystery of the ring in his mind. The sizzling of smoked beef and the aroma of fresh tea eventually lured you from bed.
You padded into the kitchen dressed in one of his t-shirts and wrapped your arms around him from behind. “Morning,” you murmured, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.
He turned in your embrace and noted the ring still prominently displayed on your finger. “Morning. Sleep well?”
You nodded and smiled up at him. “Like a rock. You?”
“Just fine.” He caresses your cheeks, letting his fingers trail along your jaw. “I couldn’t help but notice your ring this morning.”
“Huh?”
“Where did you get that ring?” he asked.
Your brow furrowed. “What ring?”
Gojo lifted your hand, displaying the diamond ring for you to see.
“Oh…” you finally realize what he’s talking about, softening your eyes as you gaze at the ring. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is. Now, would you mind reminding me when I gave it to you? My memory is a little fuzzy on the details.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “You mean… you don’t remember proposing to me?”
He shook his head apologetically and laughed somewhat nervously. “I wish I could say I did. I think I’d remember proposing to you.”
You just stare him for a long moment before you dropped your gaze. “I see,” you said quietly.
Immediately, Gojo tilted your chin back up with a knuckle under your jaw. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, baby. I just… I want to remember something as important as asking you to marry me, and it’s bothering me that I can’t.” He caresses your cheek ever so gently. “Talk to me. Help me fill in the blanks?”
You stare down at the glittering diamond on your finger, a slight pang in your chest at the realization that he doesn’t remember proposing to you. You take a deep breath and offer him a comforting smile.
“It’s okay that you don’t remember,” you say gently. “I know you’ve been so busy with work lately. Honestly, I’m just happy you found a chance to surprise me at all.”
You reach to squeeze his hand, hoping your understanding will reassure him. You know Gojo loves you deeply, his forgetfulness doesn’t change that. Still, you had hoped the moment he asked you to be his wife would be seared into his mind just as indelibly as it is in yours.
Gojo frowns, clearly bothered. “I’m so sorry, baby. I wish I could recall every detail. Asking you to marry me should be the most unforgettable moment of my life.” He brings your hand to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss over the ring. “You deserve to have a fiancé who cherishes that memory as much as you do.”
You shake your head, touched by his remorse. “You do cherish me, even if the specifics slipped your mind this time. It’s really okay.” You squeeze his hand again. “Now, tell me more about this lovely ring. Did you pick it out yourself?”
You try to steer the conversation to lighter topics, but Gojo remains preoccupied. As you chat over breakfast, his responses are distracted, his gaze drifting frequently to the ring that has become a symbol of his perceived failure.
Later, as you clean up the breakfast dishes, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m taking you out again tonight to recreate our engagement, exactly as it should be remembered,” he murmurs. “I won’t rest until I’ve made this right.”
You turn in his arms and cup his face in your hands. “Satoru, please don’t beat yourself up over this. I already told you, it’s okay.” You search his eyes, trying to convey your sincerity.
He covers your hands with his own and turns his head to kiss your palm. "It’s not okay with me," he says seriously. “You deserve the proposal you’ve always imagined. I want to replace this memory with one we can both cherish.”
“It’s okay, love. Really. You must have been tired when you—” and he doesn’t let you finish your word.
“No excuses,” he interrupts. “Let me make it up to you today.”
Seeing how important this is to him, you nod reluctantly. “Alright. If it will make you feel better.”
His expression softens. “It will. Trust me.” He kisses you tenderly then sends you off to pamper yourself while he makes plans.
Before you can protest, Gojo whisks you back to bed, insisting you relax while he pampers you all day. He brings breakfast on a silver tray—pancakes drizzled in syrup, mixed berries, and sweet tea.
Wrapping you in a plush robe, Gojo ushers you to the room, where he’s arranged for a massage therapist, manicurist, and hairstylist to spend the afternoon primping and relaxing you. Once you’re thoroughly pampered, Gojo presents you with a gift box.
“Just a little something to complement your existing beauty,” Gojo murmurs.
You start to protest the extravagance, but Gojo silences you with a kiss. “No complaints, let me spoil you today.”
He also takes you shopping and encourages you to pick out anything your heart desires, no matter the price.
At dinner, take you to the most exclusive 5-star restaurant in town. The maître d’ promptly escorts you to the best table, overlooking the cityscape.
He orders a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne (since he can’t drink), and you dine on lobster, filet mignon, and decadent desserts. He insists on hand-feeding you chocolate-dipped strawberries, stealing occasional kisses between bites.
Over dessert, he presents you with a beautiful new silver bracelet to complement your ring. He promised again that he would re-propose soon with a memory to cherish.
“You are too much sometimes. How could I repay you?” you sigh, basking in his treatment.
“Just you by my side is more than enough. Oh, maybe some late-night stress release would be nice,” he bites his lower lip with a playful wink.
After a romantic dinner, Gojo takes you back to the beautiful park fountain where he first asked you out. Under the shimmering lights, he drops gracefully to one knee and pours out his heart, confessing his unwavering love and asking you once more for the honor of becoming his wife.
“My beautiful angel, will you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my wife? I promise to love, cherish, and adore you every moment of every day for the rest of our lives. What do you say, baby?”
Without wasting a second, you answered. The delight on your face when you say yes again makes his heart swell.
This time as he slips the ring onto your finger, unfallen tears make his eyes glossy. He remembers vividly selecting the perfect diamond, picturing how it would look adorning your hand.
He stands and gathers you into his arms. “Thank you for giving me a second chance to get this right,” he murmurs against your hair. “I’ll never forget a single moment of this night for as long as I live.”
You cling to him, your own eyes misty. “I know you won’t,” you whisper.
Gojo tilts your chin up to meet your gaze. “You’re so beautiful, baby… I love you."
He seals that promise with a long, deep kiss under the glow of the fountain, leaving you both breathless.
Once you both pull away, you smile up at him, but then begin to giggle. He looks at you in confusion as your giggles grow into full laughter.
“What’s so funny?” he asks with a perplexed smile.
You take a moment to compose yourself before answering, amusement dancing in your eyes. “The truth is, you didn’t actually forget our proposal.”
“Huh?” He looked more confused than ever. “What do you mean?” he holds your face firmly like he’s searching for an answer behind your laughter.
“You did it in your sleep!”
His eyes widened in surprise. “What? I sleep proposed to you?”
You grin and nod, taking his hands in yours. “Yes! That night, you suddenly shook me awake in bed. Your eyes were closed but you took my hand and started rambling this utterly romantic speech about how much you loved me and wanted us to be together forever. Then you pressed the ring box into my palm and mumbled something adorable like ‘Be mine always?’”
You have to pause as another fit of giggles takes over while he just stares at you, dumbfounded.
“Naturally, I said yes,” you continue, “because awake or asleep, I’ll always accept your proposal. You slipped the ring onto my finger, gave me a sweet kiss, and then promptly rolled over and started snoring!”
Now you’re laughing so hard there are tears in your eyes. Gojo remains frozen for a beat before breaking into laughter too.
“I proposed to you in my sleep? And have no memory of it at all?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Well, that certainly explains my confusion this morning.”
You nod, still grinning. “I realized you must have done it in your sleep, but I didn’t want to say anything at first. I thought your dramatic distress over forgetting was too adorable!”
You dissolve into giggles again. Gojo chuckles and pulls you into his arms. “You find my suffering amusing, do you? You act all sad and pouty when in reality you knew about this?” He tickles your sides playfully, making you squeal.
“How was it being spoiled, hmm?” He showers your face with kisses as he tickles your side. He said that as if he doesn’t spoil you often already.
When your laughter finally subsides, Gojo gazes at you tenderly and brushes a tear from your cheek. “I’m glad one of us will remember the actual proposal, even if I was unconscious about it.”
He pauses before speaking again, “Though now I’m wondering if I should redo it a third time?”
You smile and wrap your arms around his neck. “I think twice is enough, don’t you think? Or do you just want another excuse to propose to me?”
You lean in and kiss him sweetly. Gojo hums against your lips. “You’re right as always. I wouldn’t change a thing about how we got here.”
He holds you close, admiring the ring on your finger. “Well, we’re now officially engaged to be married. That’s all that matters.”
You snuggle into his embrace, heart overflowing with love. “So, tell me, what were you dreaming that night when you proposed to me,” you ask with a giggle, finding the situation weirdly funny.
“Oh!” His eyes widened. “That must have been some dream I had.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I guess my subconscious wanted to make our engagement official before my conscious mind caught up.”
You laugh and hug him tighter. “Clearly your heart knew what it wanted even if your brain didn’t yet.” You pause. “But what made you decide to propose in your dream? We’ve never really talked about marriage.”
Gojo wraps his arms around you. “Honestly? We were on a romantic getaway in my dream. We’d spent the whole day exploring together and I was just overwhelmed by how perfectly happy I felt with you.”
He smiles softly, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I looked over at you watching the sunset, and it just hit me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, making you this happy. I realized at that moment that I couldn’t imagine a future without you as my wife. So dream-me proposed on the spot.”
Your smile at his tender words. You cup his face and kiss him again. “Well, I’m thankful for the dream-you were brave enough to ask before real-you.” You grin playfully and chuckle. “Yeah, you might as well be begging dream-me to re-propose in your sleep.”
You snuggle closer. “Maybe we should just let our dream-selves get married too, so both versions of us can be happy.”
He hums thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea. We could have a double ceremony. One dream wedding and one awake.”
“And I can’t wait to spend forever with you, whether you’re awake or asleep when you ask.”
Gojo laughs and kisses the top of your head. “I promise I’ll stay conscious for the actual wedding ceremony,” he teases.
“We’ll see. Maybe sleepwalking Satoru will surprise me again.”
As he gazes into your eyes, his expression becomes serious. “Mmm, marrying you for real is my dream come true. I can’t wait to call you my wife.”
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xiaours · 2 months
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EXCUSES
— they want to hold your hand, but don't want to say it directly.. what excuse will they make up?
pairing. wanderer, lyney x gn!reader (seperate)
cw. fluff, established relationship, hand holding, kisses, pet names
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— WANDERER
"This area doesn't feel safe.. come closer."
Wanderer is a person who enjoys his pride. He wouldn't want to appear exposed to anyone, including, you. He wouldn't want to show any type of vulnerability in fear that you'll leave him eventually, but that is beyond doubt for your relationship with him. Further into the relationship, he still is a bit difficult.. learning how to love someone and all. He does not express his emotions much and will have to drop hints on what he wants. Whether that be soft kisses, quality time, or even the smallest ounce of your affection. Today was just a normal day like all the others. The two of you were out adventuring through the forest of Sumeru, breathing in the calmness of the peaceful environment. It was evident that Wanderer was thinking of something, but you didn't have any deep thought on what it would be. Walking down the forest path, you suddenly felt the warmth of one's hand in yours. Wanderer held your hand and looked around. Seeming as though he felt off. "I want you to be safe." You knew otherwise but didn't say much of it. Instead, every so often, you brushed your thumb over his knuckles. Providing comfort to his character.
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— LYNEY
"My next trick only works when you hold my hand, ma très chère"
Lyney is mostly known for his tricks and frisky personality. Lyney has always flirted with you whenever he wanted to, even in the middle of his show. Even though you had thought it was demeaning at first, you had grown to love whenever he had looked directly towards you as he spoke one of his coquettish phrases. It was known to you that Lyney has always found some way to include your touches into his tricks, just like this particular day. It was a while after one of his magnificent shows. All the guests had left the Opera House amazed by the show they had just witnessed. Lynette had sat down at one of the tables in the back as usual, sipping out of her teacup. While Lyney was showing some of his more private tricks to you. You watched him loving as he did what he so very loved. Holding his cards in one hand, he reached his free one out towards you. "It'll only work when you grab my hand." This erupted a chuckle out of you, despite still holding his hand. He had softly held your hand while doing his trick one-handed, ending his trick as he bowed down, kissing the back of your hand.
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translations.
ma très chère — my dearest
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© xiaours. do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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shotmrmiller · 1 month
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Valentine's day with Pathetic!Simon
You should've known Johnny had been serious when he talked to you that morning.
"LT's never had anyone to gift fer Valentine's. Just...let him give ye the flowers 'n accept the chocolates, aye?"
Simon stood in front of you, pinning you in place with his beady gaze, a bouquet of red roses in his clenched fist.
The ends of them look torn. You really hope he didn't just rip these off of someone's front yard.
He interrupts your inner musings by forcefully presenting them to you— velvet petals brushing your lips, causing you to jerk your head back slightly.
Allllrighty then.
Tenderly, you raise your hands and grab them— encircling the base of the rose just above his hold.
"Thank you for these, Simon. They're very beautiful," you croon. His delivery might be awkward, but you truly are grateful for them. Every individual rose is pristine, colours vibrant, stems strong and firm— not a brown petal nor wilted leaf in sight.
They're perfect.
Until your fingers are pricked by something pointed.
What?
You let go quickly and turn your hands up to inspect them. Sure enough, there's blood beading up on some of your fingertips, and the soft flesh of your palms.
And you grab Simon's wrist to lift the bouquet to eye level.
Thorns.
They're everywhere, and Simon's knuckles are white from how tight he's holding the roses.
"Jesus! Simon! You've got to be kidding me! Put them down!" As you let him go, you quickly spin around to fetch your first aid kit, but a forceful grip on your shoulder stops you in your tracks and spins you right back around.
"Just get a vase for them," he rumbles.
In disbelief, you protest, "What? No! You need—" but he swiftly interrupts you, his grip on your shoulder tightening marginally.
"What I need is f'you to get a vase." His firm response is resolute.
"O-okay, I...I er, got a few under the sink." With a silent stride, Simon stays close behind you, his hand that had touched your shoulder now curling around the back of your neck— only letting go when you reach for the sink base.
Placing it on the countertop, you ask him if he would now put them down.
"No. Fill it with water."
Simon nods when you do as he says, then drops them inside the vase— and you can't look away as red furls inside the once-clear water, turning it pink.
He clears his throat, catching your attention, and when you turn to face him, Simon's handing you something else.
It's a flattened snickers bar. You can see caramel peeking out from one corner, and the wrapper is streaked with some of his blood.
Delicately, you grab it with your thumb and index by the sticky edges and place it on a paper towel.
"How did you know that snickers are my favorite?" Simon doesn't answer, only looks at you unnervingly expectantly.
Right. Let him give me the flowers and chocolate.
"Thank you so much for all of this, Simon. Happy Valentine's Day."
He lets out a deep sigh (of relief?) and opens long arms. You walk up to him, wrap your arms around his waist— the side of your head flat on his broad chest— and let out an undignified squawk when you feel your spine pop as he returns the hug.
You blatantly ignore the bulge firmly pressing itself into the soft flesh of your lower stomach, and definitely don't think about how large it feels.
"Happy Valentine's Day, pet."
Later, Johnny laughs so hard that he cries when he sees the rust-colored streaks of blood on the Snickers wrapper.
"Simon's an intense man, what can ah say?"
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bonewreath · 3 months
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guys i hate to say it but i need bestfriend!ellie, who steals ur panties to get off... i need her like air!!! 18+ below, mdni!
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you’re searching for a lighter in ellie’s nightstand when you notice a flash of pink lace. interest piqued, you tug the fabric out from under a book and some pens, eyes widening when you realize what it is - underwear. your underwear.
you’d lost this pair forever ago and had just assumed it got lost in the dryer, like a mismatched sock. your breath catches in your throat as you imagine ellie in your bedroom, waiting for you to turn away so she could grab these from your laundry basket. heat pools in your gut. what else had she done with these?
“did you find it?” ellie asks as she strides back into the room, having left to grab her bong from the living room. her expression falls when you turn around, the pink thong dangling from your fingertips.
you watch ellie’s cheeks flush bright red, her throat bobbing with a gulp. “i—um, that’s weird. whose are those?”
you almost laugh at her poor attempt to play it cool. your lips pull into a knowing smile, and you take a few steps closer to ellie. she’s like a deer in headlights.
“you know,” you say, getting even closer - so close you can smell the cologne ellie wears. it smells like a bonfire. “i always wondered where these went.”
she just blinks at you. “they’re yours?”
“don’t play dumb,” you tell her. she can barely look at you - the expression on her face reads as utterly mortified.
“i’m not mad, baby.” you reach out and grab the bong from ellie, bringing it to the nightstand and returning to your place in front of her. the pet name makes ellie turn an even brighter shade of red - it’s so fucking cute.
“but i did miss this pair of panties,” you sigh. “you’re gonna have to make it up to me.”
“i’m sorry,” ellie blurts, “i’m so fucking sorry, i know it’s weird and creepy and wrong, but i just—i don’t know, i—”
“why don’t you show me?” you interrupt, one hand still holding the pink thong, your other hand trailing up ellie’s side.
“show me what you did with these, hm?”
you lean in close, that bonfire-like cologne heady and intoxicating. your lips brush against ellie’s, but you don’t kiss her. “please?”
and that’s how you end up sprawled on ellie’s mattress, watching as she pumps her fingers into her wet cunt, her other hand gripping the pair of lace panties.
“fuck,” ellie hisses, sweat-drenched locks of hair clinging to her forehead and temples. she moans your name and your blood runs hot; it’s like fire in your veins. how long had she done this? how many times had she plunged her fingers knuckle-deep in her own cunt, moaning your name like a pornstar?
you squeeze your thighs together, wetness pooling at your center. ellie’s close, you can tell - she’s going faster, panting harder, the wet sounds of her fingers moving through her pussy enough to drive you crazy. when she comes, it’s with a strangled groan, her hand stalling between her legs as she writhes and twitches, hips jolting. it’s a pretty picture, ellie fucked-out from her own fingers.
but you’re not done with her yet.
you sit up on your knees, catching ellie’s gaze as she fights to catch her breath. she watches you carefully remove your shirt, then your bra, your tits supple and round, nipples pebbled. you keep your skirt on, but you reach beneath it to grab the waistband of your panties. you’re wearing another thong, this one black, and when you pull it down your hips and off, you give ellie the kind of look that makes her blush all over again.
“here, els,” you coo, crawling over to her and moving up to straddle her waist. “you need this to keep you quiet.”
ellie just nods, nostrils flaring with every exhale as you push your thumb between her lips, encouraging her to open her jaw. the thong fits almost perfectly inside her open mouth, and the sight of her like that, your thong like a gag to keep her silent, makes your clit throb, your cunt absolutely soaked.
you ride her like that, your pussy wet against hers, her leftover cum spread between your folds, and god you can’t believe you haven’t done this sooner. you roll your hips down and cry out at the feeling of ellie’s cunt smearing against your own, the wet sounds completely obscene.
ellie’s moans and grunts are muffled by the thong in her mouth, her hands gripping your hips, fingernails leaving little crescent moon-shaped marks in your skin. it’s messy and sweaty and desperate, the way you ride her in search of your own pleasure. a thin sheen of sweat glistens on your skin and ellie thinks you look like an angel - but this? this is far from angelic.
ellie uses her grip on your hips to push and pull you along, dragging your cunt over hers faster, faster. you’re both on the very edge, bodies desperate for release, and when you finally come, it’s with a strangled cry of ellie’s name. she comes not long after. her eyes roll back into her skull and you swear she’s going to leave bruises on your hips. the idea thrills you.
finally, you pull the fabric from ellie’s mouth, tossing it beside you on the bed. you lean in close to her, and she smooths a hand over the small of your back. your lips brush over hers again, and this time, ellie pulls you in for a kiss.
you let her keep both pairs of panties.
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hotchsstuff · 2 months
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sprinter - rafe cameron
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summary: rafe had always taught his sons to protect his family's name, especially their mother. but what happens when your son colin, who had always been a reliable and patient child, gets into a fight?
warnings: none, dad rafe
your son colin had always been the rational one between the two. growing up he had never given you and your husband any problems or worries, unlike his twin james. his grades were the highest in his class and he'd do charity work in his free time, dragging james along with him.
you froze in your sit when you got a call from the high school's office: colin got into a fight. rafe noticed your face turning pale and stopped the car. you remained silent for a few seconds before stuttering that you were arriving immediately. you turned to rafe and repeated what the woman from the other end of the call told you. rafe raised an eyebrow and asked you in confusion colin? are you sure that it was not james? you rolled your eyes and swatted his arm, you were too worried to laugh at his jokes.
when you saw your son standing in the hall with his arms crossed, you ran to his side. you grabbed his face to scrutinize any bruises but he was intact.
"are you okay, love?" you said in a whisper, ignoring the parents of the other student that were trying to argue.
"im fine, mom. it's nothing." he said, reassuring you. he had never seen you so agitated. you were a composed woman, who always knew what to do, but now you looked on the verge of crying.
"what happened?" rafe asked him and you could feel colin stiffen under your touch.
"your son attacked my son!" the woman that had been glaring at you since you entered the building butted in. "look at him. he's bleeding!"
she was right. the boy didn't look any younger than colin, maybe two years older and you gasped when you took in his appearance. his jacket was torn apart, his left eye was now black and he had a broken lip.
"i did not!" colin protested, eyes fuming and clenching his fists. "he was the one to provoke me, insulting my mom."
rafe who had remained rather calm this whole time, took a deep breath and popped his knuckles.
"i did not! he's lying!" the boy stuttered, turning to look at his parents.
"sir, i can confirm what colin said." another student spoke up making the once smug parents a little ashamed. "i saw everything, he had been bothering colin all week."
rafe took a step ahead and came face to face with the father of the 15 year old fellow "you work at cameron enterprise, right?"
the man nodded with reluctance, not understanding the meaning behind the question.
"you can pack your things and get your ass out of my company." rafe spat out and with no more warning, he led you and your son outside.
once in the car, you turned to colin and caressed his cheek "you don't need to get in trouble for mom, alright?"
but that only seemed to upset him more "mom! i wanted to and if necessary i'll do it again."
before you could say more, rafe put a hand on your leg and squeezed it "honey, colin is right. it's time that he stands up for what he thinks is right."
"also, im curious to know who taught you to fight? you're basically immaculate, boy." rafe scoffed, immensely proud of his youngest son.
"rafe!" you groaned.
later that evening.
"why did colin get to come home sooner?!" james bursted into the house, making you jump.
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