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chuluoyi · 2 months

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yours, indefinitely

- geto suguru x reader

each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! (yes i can't resist it) pregnancy, a lot of comfort and love, insecurities, hurt/comfort, a dash of crack, soft!geto, massive and absolute fluff !!

note: based on this and this. this... is an idea i got after writing drabbles about soft dad gojo :') you all know this is my first time writing geto and the first time in a while i'm writing a longer fic so i'm having a lot of doubts but i hope you'll enjoy it!! wc. 3k !

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

When you found out that you were five weeks pregnant, you were genuinely conflicted for two reasons— one, it was unexpected as you weren't even married yet, and two, you were anxious about your boyfriend's reaction to the news.

But contrary to your worries and fears, doubts and tears... Geto Suguru marries you. He led you to the city hall almost immediately— and just like that, in the eyes of the law, you were officially husband and wife.

Because he has always known that he wants to share his life with you, and with this newfound responsibility, it only reinforces his conviction that he wants that kind of forever with you.

MONTH TWO

Your pregnancy wasn't a breeze—no pregnancy is, to be exact—and you had resigned yourself to mornings of throwing up, but you definitely didn't expect that you would get so sick to the point of almost passing out in the bathroom.

You never wanted Suguru to see you like this, but when a strong arm got a hold of you and pulled back your hair, your heart soared regardless.

"Hey, you okay?" Suguru asked, clear worry lined in his eyes. It was five in the morning—he must've been awoken by the ruckus you caused in the bathroom.

When you heaved a breath and nodded, his frown deepened. "Why didn't you call me?"

"N-no, Sugu—" the words barely left your lips before the overwhelming urge to retch hit you again and you doubled over the toilet bowl.

Suguru maintained a steady hold on your body, and not once did he waver even when you puked your guts out. His grip only loosened when you were done, supporting you up and assisting you in rinsing your mouth at the sink.

"Do you feel better?" he asked gently, dabbing your mouth with a tissue. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

"Suguru, you don't have to—" you untangled yourself from him feebly, still feeling faint. "It stinks here—"

"I have to," he reinforced, gaze boring straight at you. "Do you really think a smelly bathroom will stop me?"

“I d-don't want to trouble you...”

Suguru sighed and the next thing you knew, you found yourself being lifted in a princess carry, his hands securely under your knees. Surprised, you let out a yelp. "Suguru! P-put me down!"

"I'm telling you, you should trouble me," he pursed his lips together, face inching closer to yours, his dark eyes captivating, almost drawing you in. "We're in this together, remember?"

And in that very second, the sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and with it a renewed sense of love you had for this man, once just a figure you admired from afar and now, wholly your husband.

"Yeah..." you responded with a soft smile, completely unaware that Suguru cherished seeing that expression on your face more than anything else.

MONTH THREE

When you reached the third month, you thank all heavenly deities out there that your nausea was getting much better.

But in its place was your outrageous craving requests that more often than not sent Suguru into a daze.

"Wha? Say that again?" he looked at you with twitching eyes, mostly in disbelief. "You can't seriously ask me to... get what?"

"Ice cream with lemon toothpaste flavor," you looked at him with sad puppy eyes, almost resembling that glassy-eyed emoji. "It seemed tasty, Suguru... I want it."

His immediate response was clear this time. "No. Love, that... I doubt that combination even exists."

"Hmph... but baby wants it."

"But—!"

"Or I'll just get the toothpaste and—"

"No! Absolutely no!" okay, this was crazy, but Suguru would figure it out, somehow. "You can't eat toothpaste! I'll get it for you, okay!"

"Teehee~" your small giggle actually made his head spin even further, but if it meant you and your baby's wellbeing, Geto Suguru would cross the roads and did something to get you that non-existent ice cream.

In the end, he settled for mint and orange (because the parlor ran out of lemon) to recreate the nonsense of lemon toothpaste flavor. But when you tasted it, your eyes welled up with tears though.

“This... doesn't taste like toothpaste or lemon,” you sniffled, feeling betrayed. “Suguru, you liar.”

. . . oh, and here goes round two of wild goose chase of recreating edible ice cream for you and the baby. Sigh.

MONTH FOUR

With each passing day, your belly swelled, becoming increasingly prominent and rounder. And you wouldn’t believe it but the pregnancy glow was there—through your husband’s eyes, you looked most radiant, carrying his baby.

And it multiplied more when he saw you interact with his two girls.

"Miss Y/N, is it a boy or a girl?" Nanako inquired, touching your bump, her voice filled with excitement.

"Ah, we haven't found out yet..." you patted her in the head, quite touched that now she cared for you this much too. "What do you think it's going to be, Nanako-chan?"

"Ooh, it has to be a boy! If it's a boy, surely he'll be as handsome as Master Geto!"

Mimiko, ever the calmer of the two, hummed. "Hmm, personally I think it's going to be a girl."

"Ehh? If it's a girl... I guess, yeah— at least she's going to be cute!"

Maybe it was your hormones at play, but your spirits dampened somewhat when you noticed how Nanako leaned more towards the prospect of baby brother. The thought lingered in your mind even later that night on your marital bed, as Suguru spooned you from behind.

“Come to think about it, I think we can find out the gender right about now…” you mused, stroking your belly absentmindedly. “Suguru, do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

Suguru chuckled, placing his warm, bigger hand over yours on your growing tummy. “Hmm, you first. What do you think?”

"Honestly... a girl. At least, if it were up to me, I want a girl though."

"Ah, cute." Suguru felt his smile broaden at the very idea. "Mimiko and Nanako will get an adorable sister to play dress up with."

You nibbled your lower lip. "But you'd want a boy, wouldn't you?"

"Hm? No," he responded almost immediately. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm with you on this one. A girl would be nice."

"Even when you already have the twins?"

"Another baby girl— what's so bad with that?" Suguru sighed against your neck, his palm still tenderly caressing your belly. "One who will look like you—the woman whom I love the most... what are you worried about?"

One thing you loved about Suguru was his eloquence. His words had the power to persuade you, even when they seemed at odds with your own beliefs. And more often than not, his words were always aimed to make you feel safe.

And right now, you couldn't have loved him more.

. . .

In your next checkup, as if the gods were all granting your wish all this time— you're having a girl.

MONTH FIVE

“Why won’t she kick?” Suguru pressed his ears on your tummy on the bed, brows knitting together.

You grinned. “She was quite lively a little while ago. She's probably resting now.”

Suguru pursed his lips into a pout, snuggling closer to your round belly. “Hmm, little one, can you hear me? Just one kick for papa, please?”

Moments like this were ones you cherished the most. Your husband's love for your unborn child always filled your heart with warmth.

“She’s not responding.” Suguru sat up with a gentle sigh, a hint of disappointment shadowing his expression. Yet, he quickly mustered a warm smile for you. “Tired after bothering mama, huh?”

Suddenly, you let out a hearty chuckle. “You know, Suguru… I think our baby resembles you.”

He blinked in puzzlement. “Eh? How so?”

“She’s so peaceful, hardly causes me any discomfort lately—she’s idyllic, just like you.” You could feel your face getting warm but you just had to say this to your husband.

Suguru was visibly taken aback, but then the hints of pink tinted his face as he smiled. “Well… I’m glad that it’s been a smooth experience for you so far.”

Your heart swelled at his tender, genuine smile. Then, as if on cue, you felt the familiar stirrings and flutter inside—

“Suguru!”

You caught his hand and placed it on your tummy, just in time for your daughter to kick.

Suguru’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Did she just—?"

It was a profound moment for him, feeling the tangible sign of the new life you both had created. And as your laughter filled the room, light and joyful, Suguru knew with unwavering certainty—

He would do everything in his power to protect you and this baby. Who had become his whole world now.

MONTH SIX

It began as one ordinary day— before came the most horrific incident Suguru never thought would happen to you.

He got a call that you had passed out in the train station. Suguru had never truly known fear until then, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The details he was provided were frustratingly vague, and he desperately tried not to think the worst.

He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack as he made his way towards the hospital you were brought to. The mere possibility of anything harmful happening to either you or the baby was unbearable. He didn't allow himself to consider any negative outcomes, driven by the need to be by your side.

By the time he arrived, you had regained consciousness, though you were still drifting in and out, clinging onto your swimming consciousness.

"Are you okay? Love, talk to me." Suguru got a hold of your hand as soon as he arrived, voice trembling. "What happened?"

"Suguru..." you managed to reply in feeble voice, still feeling the dull pounding in your temples. You could feel him squeeze your hand tighter. "I-I'm sorry... to m-make you worry..."

"Why are you saying sorry?" Suguru gritted his teeth in frustration. Always putting others first, he loved and sometimes hated that trait of yours. He stroked your hair. "Tell me how you feel. Do you feel better? Or should I call the doctor?"

Seeing how deeply concerned he was for both you and your baby brought a tear to your eyes. "I'm f-fine... just a little dizzy is all."

Once the doctor examined you and determined that you needed to stay in the hospital for a day due to low blood pressure, Suguru was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

"You really, really scared me," he said in a raspy voice. "So many things could've gone wrong. What if you fell into the tracks instead? You would— I —" his voice actually hitched. "I could've lost both of you today."

At his words, a new flood of tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you couldn't help but sniffle. Suguru immediately comforted you.

“You’re okay, you’re okay… Don’t cry, please.” He cradled your face gently, thinking he had spooked you. “Just rest. I’m here,” and his other hand rubbed your belly for reassurance. “You and the baby are safe.”

Through this, you realized once again just how secure you were, with him.

MONTH SEVEN

You had been taking the prenatal classes lately—Suguru insisted on it because there was nothing he wouldn't spare for you— and the reality once again sank into you that you were going to have a little human to love and care soon.

"You need to hold her like this..." the friendly instructor guided, positioning her hand on the back of the doll's head. "Be gentle when washing the head, and make sure not to scratch her—"

Now you were once again learning how to bathe the baby. It felt complicated at first, but after the fifth session, you were getting the hang of it.

Not the case with Suguru though. He seemed to be genuinely struggling.

"No, sir! You're going to drown her like that!" the instructor gasped in horror, pulling the baby doll out of your husband's grasp. "I'm sorry, but the way you're holding her is too risky! You have to lower her slowly—"

It brought a wide smile on your face. It was a rare sight to see him not being good at what he was doing, so seeing him totally confused like this was refreshing.

"This is... not quite as easy as it looks," he let out a long sigh, still trying to wash the doll's head as gently as he was instructed. "And I can't really tell when I'm being too rough or not."

"Just imagine it's a real baby, how soft you think you can be?" you advised, almost giggling. "Babies are delicate, sort of like... oh! You can think of them as sensitive as Gojo!"

Suguru gave you a look. "If it were a baby with Satoru's face... I might just flip and toss him away."

And yet despite having a hard time for it, Suguru was persistent in this practice. Because no way was he going to miss out bathing his baby.

MONTH EIGHT

"Suguru... we—" you said in one intake of breath, but unable to continue as he crashed his lips into yours.

With skilled hands, Suguru deftly maneuvered the inside of your maternity sleepwear, unclasping your bra and your breasts—now heavy and full of milk—spilling out.

You didn’t mean to drag him into this. You just made one comment about how you thought that he no longer seemed to desire you as much now and Suguru responded by pulling you into a searing kiss, as if to show you that he, in fact, very much still does.

He groped your left breast and your body spasmed as you let out a hitched moan, writhing under him.

“What part of you—” he drawled, eyes blazing with certain electricity, voice deep and low—and you couldn’t help getting even wetter down there. “—that you said I’m not interested in anymore, mama?”

You mewled, feeling so small under him. You could only whine as he stripped you out of your silken undergarments and let you lay there bare, ready for the taking.

In Suguru’s eyes, you were the most divine. The mother of his child couldn't be less than heavenly. Seeing you so swollen and so full, with everything that was his—made him harder than ever possible.

You would learn it the fast way as his lips latched on your neck, nimble fingers worked through your breasts, and then your pussy—

“Ride me,” he commanded, right after turning you into a wet mush three times and tasting your cum—which was still as sweet as ever. He helped you get up and sat on his hardened member, that slid so easily inside you as you let out a whimper.

Gone was your gentle husband—he always turned into another beast entirely in bed.

“Look at you, sitting so pretty for me like this,” Suguru remarked with a meaningful grin as he placed his hands on both sides of your enormous belly.

“Mmnghh!” you scrunched your eyes shut. The sounds you made were completely beyond your will by now. Everything was just overwhelming you. The way his thick cock sheathed itself inside you and made you feel full, and the way your baby twisted and turned inside you at the same time was mind-blowing— and you haven't even started moving yet.

You could already see it already, how much of a mess you were going to be in once this ended.

Suguru noticed the baby’s rambunctious movement too and lightly tapped the skin of your belly, maintaining his sly smile.

“Oh, baby… forgive your papa and mama and buckle up, yeah? It’s going to be a rough ride for a bit.”

And soon, on one fateful morning, you were awoken by signs of labor, followed by your water breaking and full-blown contractions.

Suguru was beside you the entire time, worriedly hovering over you for support. He held you tight, providing comfort as you curled inwards each time intense contraction gripped your womb like a vice, hardening it into a rock-hard mass. Now is the real deal, he thought. Suddenly he was having doubts himself— he was going to become a parent. Both of you are.

Seeing you subjected to that much pain was almost unbearable, and even more so when your pained cries and screams echoed through the room as you brought your baby into the world, but then, then, suddenly—

His baby girl is here. She fit perfectly in his arms, round and snug in her blanket, with the softest black tufts of hair that she inherited from him. She cooed and mewled in her sleep—

—and Geto Suguru thought, nothing—absolutely nothing else mattered the very moment he laid eyes on his beautiful daughter.

"She is so tiny, so precious," Suguru whispered, his finger gently tracing the soft cheeks of the sleeping baby. Leaning on his shoulder, you could only sigh in awe, marveling at the sight of your husband and your new baby.

"Thank you," he turned to you then, eyes brimming with unshed tears and emotions. For giving me a another person to care for and love.

And you were at your happiest, finding yourself falling in love with your husband all over again, knowing well that he would cherish you with everything he had.

Days and months following the birth of your daughter was hectic and eventful.

Nanako and Mimiko had been a really great help around the house, and they adored your baby daughter more than anything, always taking turns to entertain her and make her all giggly, which brought you to another level of happiness.

And most of all, Suguru had taken his new role as a dad very seriously. You remembered him visibly struggling at baby care classes, but now he was a master of diaper changing and baby bathing— and you wouldn't be surprised if he was even better than you by now.

"Suguru, how are you so great at this all of a sudden?" you genuinely wondered with a literal question mark as you watched him washing your daughter in a bubble bath, her laughter filling the room.

"Hard work and perseverance, love," he replied, his tone light but proud. And you snorted when he gave you a wink.

Your daughter had never been shy to cry her heart out at 3 in the morning too, and each time she did, whenever you were about to leave the bed, Suguru would gently hold you back with a raspy voice, murmuring, "I'll get her. Go back to sleep."

He was the best husband a woman could ask for. Throughout the five months of your postpartum, he always made sure that you stayed hydrated, had a lot of rest and consumed nutritious food to replenish your strength. He always took over the baby-rearing duties whenever possible. You were treated no less than a princess, and honestly you were ever so grateful.

And so this time, despite his willingness, you got up from the bed and went to the baby's room. And the sight there caught your heart—

"There, there..." Suguru's voice was thick with sleep, yet he rocked your daughter back and forth with gentle patience. "Do you want to change your blanket? Is it not comfy for you?"

Your heart softened, melted—perhaps even fluttered away with the wind, turning into mush. When you first discovered a year ago that you were going to have a baby, you could never have anticipated that this was the life you would find yourself in.

Suguru opted to switch the blanket for a new one, but as you watched him fold and unfold it several times, confusion evident on his face, you decided it was time to step in.

"Here, you do it like this," your sudden appearance startled him, as you gently took the fabric away from him and wrapped your fussy daughter in it. "Looks like I finally found something you're still not great at," you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

He was about to usher you back to the bedroom until you said that. "Heh."

You loved this life, and he too wouldn't trade it for the world. In the quiet tranquility of dawn, after both of you had successfully put your baby back to sleep, you spoke, "Thank you... and I love you, Suguru."

But he thought— you shouldn't have to thank him for anything, because after all, Geto Suguru lives for two princesses in his life; you and his baby daughter.

And after this, all that was left was giving you the wedding celebration of your dreams, one that both of you had been setting aside for a while now.

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rafecameroninterlude · 3 months

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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader

summary: rafe surprises you on your birthday

warnings: best friends brother, sarah being the worst friend ever (what else is new?), crying, firting over the phone, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex

word count: 2.8k

a/n: i’ve seen your comments and ik y’all want reader to stick up for herself against sarah, so don’t worry that’s in the works!! i’ve been feeling a little sick but i’m going to try to keep up with requests as best as i can <3 mini series masterlist can be found here

“is everything okay?” ignoring the fact that sarah just cancelled your plans, on your birthday, you refused to hang up the phone without getting a conversation that lasted less than two minutes. “w-what do you mean?” you heard the faint sound of someone laughing in the background, a door shutting loudly on the other line. “you’ve never missed any of my birthdays, and tonight you cancel after reassuring me all week that you’d see me? not to mention two weeks ago when we were supposed to go on the druthers, you said you’d be back home later, but you never showed.” you hated how you sounded like a concerned parent more than a friend, but right now you just wanted answers.

“everything is fine, y/n,” sarah scoffed, “i mean, seriously, i’ve just been busy, alright?” you don’t know if you should feel relieved that she’s fine, or hurt because she’s obviously not interested in talking to you right now. with ward, rose, and wheezie out of the house for the summer, there was no valid explanation as to why she goes days, sometimes weeks without being home. unless of course, rafe was right about her spending all her time on the cut. “have you been staying on the other side of the island?” you couldn’t help but ask, the question lingering in your mind since rafe mentioned it two weeks ago. “oh, my god! do i have to tell you everything? you’re worse than topper.” she hung up before you could say anything else.

what the fuck?

she’s acting as if she has never been like this before. was it a crime that you were worried about your best friend who you haven’t seen in three weeks? sarah once showed up to your house at three in the morning because you sent a crying emoji instead of a laughing one. it’s hard to think about, the person she was then, versus now. you felt your eyes stinging, your vision getting blurry as the tears threatened to overflow. god, this was pitiful. if someone told you that you’d be here, your hair and makeup done for the gods, holding back tears because of sarah, you wouldn’t believe them. the amount of things that have changed this past month was starting to crash down on you at once.

with sarah gone, and your parents away for their anniversary trip, the last thing you wanted to do was wander in a party by yourself. ultimately deciding to stay in for the night, you laid out your pajamas, about to unzip your dress before your phone rang. unknown caller. “hello?” there was a few beats of silence, “y/n?” your heart fluttered instantly. “hey, rafe.” you sniffled, trying to clear any indication that you’ve been keeping yourself from crying. “what are you doing tonight?” his voice turned rough. “i was just about to get in my pajamas.. why?” he cleared his throat, a small seed of hope burying itself in your chest. “let’s go to mine. i have something for you.” as if you couldn’t smile any harder, you could count on rafe to beat the odds. “what if i said no?” you teased, knowing you could never say that to him.

“then i’d have to go home to an empty house and no birthday girl to give birthday dick to.” you sighed dreamily, eyes glancing up at your ceiling. “aren’t you the gentlemen?” you got up, thankful to see that none of your makeup smudged. “so where are you right now?” you reapplied your lip gloss, running a brush through your hair for the final time. “outside your house.” you paused. “are you really?” you peeked outside your window, a black truck sitting out front. “i’ll be right out.” you hung up, screaming excitedly, grabbing your purse before making your way outside. rafe met you half way, picking you up and putting you in the passenger seat.

“you’re telling me you were about to change out of this?” his hands rested on your hips, your head leaning against the seat. “yeah, but i rather you take it off of me instead.” he smiled, pulling you into a kiss. “i rather do that too.” he shut the door, the car ride back to his house consisting of him making you laugh. “why’s it so dark in here?” rafe lead you upstairs, skipping past his room. “where are we going..” you stopped in your tracks. “ward’s room?” you shook your head, feeling like you were trespassing in some weird way. “don’t worry, keep walking.” he opened the doors to the balcony, the breath being sucked right out of your lungs.

a small cake with pink frosting and the number twenty in gold accents sat in a little box on top of the table, a vase full of your favorite flowers right next to it. “how..” you turned around, rafe rubbing his hands against his jeans. “i knew it was your birthday today, which explains the cake, and i may or may not have stalked your instagram highlights for any flowers i could find.” you blinked, throwing yourself in his arms. “this means so much to me, rafe. thank you.” you let out a shaky breath, your emotions getting the best of you once he pulled back to cup your face. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he sat you down, his eyes flickering between yours. “i just wasn’t expecting any of this, i’m just really grateful that’s all.” you smiled.

rafe nodded, pulling a small gift bag from under the table. “i really want to see you open this.” he placed the bag in your lap, giving you a reassuring nod when you looked at him. with shaky hands, you removed the pink tissue paper, a velvet box revealing itself at the bottom. rafe adjusted in his seat, his eyes frantically moving between you and the gift. “rafe..” you opened the box, immediately being met with probably the best gift you’ve ever received. “i’ve heard you talk about this a lot, so i figured why not?” he shrugged, “do you like it?” he watched you pick up the silver bookmark, the words ‘pretty girl’ imprinted in cursive lettering on the back.

“i love it..” you truly had no other words. placing it gently inside the box, you got up, rafe pulling you on top of him, both of you smiling into a kiss. how did he know how to do this? make you feel special and wanted and appreciated all at the same time? you deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing your thigh. “should we cut the cake?” you hummed, shaking your head, “let’s save it for after.” rafe pulled away. “after what?” his hand snaked around your neck, “after you give me birthday dick, your words.” you yelped when he suddenly yanked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you inside. “can i confess something?” he walked through the dark hallway, basically kicking open his room door.

you nodded, leaving a trail of kisses across his neck. once he laid you down, he took off his flannel, his biceps flexing under the small light emitting from his bathroom. “i’ve been reduced to fucking my hand every night since we had sex on the druthers. “all i could think about these past couple of weeks is how perfect you look under and on top of me,” he spoke quietly, “have you been thinking about it too?” his shirt was next to go, and the harder it was to resist from moaning at the sight of him. “yes,” you sat up, pulling him down to sit at the edge of his bed, “..that night replays in my head everyday.” settling between his legs, your fingers worked at getting his belt off.

“but the thought occurred to me one night;” you slid his belt out of the loops of his jeans, “you’ve tasted me already, but i haven’t tasted you.” as if on cue, you placed his belt next to him, using his knees to anchor yourself back on your feet. he groaned, watching as you moved your hair to the side. “take my dress off?” you turned around, unknowingly facing the mirror on his wall. without hesitation, he unzipped your dress, his eyes growing dark as he looked at your shared reflection. “nothing underneath?” this was a bold move for you, so you were more than happy to see how much he liked the idea of you walking around, ready for him to take you at anytime.

“nope, just wanted to save you the time.” you smiled, his hands cupping your tits, a soft gasp escaping from your lips. “we have all the time in the world.” he gently bit the skin of your neck, spinning you around. he pulled you down with him, your hips straddling his as you unbottoned his jeans. “i like your makeup,” rafe’s rubbed his palms on your thighs, “such a shame it’s gonna get ruined.” you smiled, rafe sitting up to kiss you roughly. kneeling on the floor, rafe held your hair back as you looked up at him, palming his cock through his briefs. “you gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” he grunted, your eyes fluttering, “mhmm.” you hummed, rafe extending his hand out in front of your mouth.

“spit, baby.” he commanded. doing as he said, you laid your head on his lap, watching as he started stroking himself, both of you gazing at eachother with heated stares. “please, rafe.” he moaned, his head lolling to the side. he was still tugging on your hair, the stinging sensation shooting down your spine. he stood up, discarding the last article of clothing keeping you from being fucked into oblivion. you opened your mouth for him, a string of curse words tumbling out as his tip met your tongue. “oh, fuck,” be gritted his teeth. you straightened up, making sure to keep your eyes on his, a moan rumbling in your throat as he pushed further.

rafe licked his lips, his chest rising and falling as you started bobbing your head. if you had to be on your knees just to see the way he fell apart with your mouth alone, you’d do it all night if he asked you to. your eyes started to water, rafe smiling at the sight. “tap me if you need to.” he pulled out, thrusting back in once you nodded. fuck. your hands flew out, holding the back of his knees as he tugged at your hair, hard. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” his muscles constricted, your pussy clenching around nothing. the only word you could think of to describe the noises in this room was obscene.

heavy breathing, gasping and moaning, even an occasional whimper when you swallowed around his cock. “y/n-” he shook his head, his eyes rolling back just as you patted his leg. rafe stopped all movements, pulling out of your mouth with a wet pop. “i don’t want you to cum yet,” you stood up, your knees beet red as he pressed his thumb against your bottom lip. “yeah? want me to fill you up instead?” his words went straight to your core, a single tear drop rolling down your cheek. “yes.” your voice was hoarse as he laid you down, your arms wrapping around his neck to kiss him.

rafe teased your entrance before sliding between your folds, his cock rubbing against your clit. you shivered at the contact, your hips chasing his in order to get more friction. “it’s going to be hard to stop doing this, you know,” rafe looked down at you. “i wouldn’t care about sarah’s opinion on this, and i don’t think you should either.” he stared at you intensely as you pondered over his words. “you wouldn’t care about her opinion on us having sex? or..” your heart was racing, hoping he’d pick up on what you were insinuating. “well, that too, but i mean something more, more than us just sneaking around.” you met his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips.

“are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” rafe laughed. “no- well, yes, but not formally yet, i want to do that the right way, not when you’re under me waiting for me to fuck you.” you bit your lip, nodding your head. you could never get used to how good his body felt on top of yours, your toes curling as he pinned down your thighs. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your temple, “this pussy was made for me.” rafe slammed into you once you settled into his sheets, a strangled cry ripping itself from your throat. it didn’t help that rafe was already filling you to the hilt, but watching his mouth fall open, and his eyebrows knit together was just as rewarding.

any concept of time was lost when you were with him, but you knew you didn’t want this to end. you loved how intimate rafe was, swallowing your moans with every kiss, massaging your thighs when he would thrust into you particularly hard, he was so good at this, you couldn’t even think straight by the time you were teetering the edge of pure bliss. “rafe, don’t stop.” you held onto his frame, his fingers circling your clit as you felt the pit of your stomach drop. “o-oh, my god,” you shook in his hold. “rafe!” you gasped. “i know,” he moaned, “fucking hell, i know.” his hips stuttered as he cummed, his eyes screwing shut while he emptied himself inside of you.

he took your lips, still thrusting slowly as he steadied you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. eventually he came to a stop, both of you laying under the sheets. “did you mean what you said earlier?” you rolled over, facing rafe as he sighed sleepily. “about being something more? yes.” you smiled as rafe took your hand in his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “should we go for that cake?” you asked. “that sounds so good right now.” both of you got up, sharing the sheets as cover, about to leave the room until your phone started ringing. rafe was quick to pick it up from the floor, his jaw ticking as he looked at the screen.

“who is it?” you reached out, rafe blocking your attempt to grab your phone. “it’s sarah.” he declined the call, tossing your phone on the bed behind him. “come on, let’s go get that cake.” he ushered you towards the door before you stopped him. “it’s nearly three in the morning, rafe. she could be in trouble.” he stared at you for a moment, sighing as he nodded his head. “alright.” he stepped away. you pressed sarah’s contact, putting the call on speaker. she picked up after the third ring. “y/n?” you knew that voice. after fourteen years of being best friends, you knew when she was crying, even when she wasn’t in front of you.

“what’s wrong sarah, are you okay?” you stole a glance at rafe, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry y/n. i haven’t been a good friend, and i’ve been keeping so much from you, my family… topper, i can’t handle all the lies anymore.” you felt yourself growing with empathy, rafe taking hold of your arm. “don’t fall for that shit!” he whispered. “i didn’t even tell you happy birthday!” sarah sobbed, “please let me make this up to you.” you don’t know why, but you looked up at rafe, who was shaking his head. taking a deep breath, you racked your brain for what you should do.

the fact that you had sarah on the phone, while standing in rafe’s room, naked at that, you felt like you were betraying one of them with either answer you gave. if you told sarah yes, then it would be like a slap to the face for rafe, but if you told sarah no, you’d be throwing away a friendship that grew into a sisterhood over the years. “we could have a movie night. for old times sake.” she sniffled, your own tears starting to well in your eyes. “y/n.” rafe stroked your hair. this wasn’t easy, at all. “okay.” you regretted it as soon as you said it, rafe’s hand falling to his side. “okay, that sounds good.” it pained you to see the way rafe was looking at you right now.

“friday at eight?” you gave her a quick ‘yes, i’ll see you.’ hanging up shortly afterwards. “rafe-” he slipped into some shorts, walking out of the room without a word. there was no winning in this situation. you plopped down on the bed, still wrapped in rafe’s sheets as you sat in silence. after about five minutes, rafe walked in with two plates of cake. he handed you one, sitting down next to you. “i won’t hold it against you,” he spoke up, “i just wish you could see what she’s doing.” you licked some frosting off of your finger. “i’m sorry.” you leaned your head on his shoulder. rafe hummed, “don’t be. i’ll let you find out by yourself, and i’ll be there with an extra plate for you when you do.” he rubbed your thigh.

you laughed to yourself. “thank you.”

3K notes · View notes

igbylicious · 4 months

Text

knockout [woosan x reader]

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, boxer au, friends with benefits

summary: Wooyoung invites you over to play after San wins his latest match.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: boxer San, manager Wooyoung, threesome, consensual somnophilia (San is the one asleep), blow job, hand job, spit kink, face-sitting, cunnilingus, face-fucking, choking on cock, cumplay (eating and sharing), dirty talk, San has bruises, they use the pet names ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’ for you but no pronouns, established Woosan, San is whiny while he sleeps but gets cocky when awake, Wooyoung is a mischievous lil’ shit (affectionate) the whole way through

a/n: my first ateez fic! please consider a like/reblog if you like it (❁´◡`❁)

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

Your phone buzzes late at night, and you already know who it is before looking. You tear yourself away from the TV and check your messages, where you find a selfie from Wooyoung.

His hair is getting longer, pushed back with sunglasses resting on top of his head. (Even though it’s already dark out. Poser.) He wears a black-and-white shirt with a busy pattern and just one button too many undone, a heavy silver necklace around his neck. But all of that is just a sideshow to the main point of the selfie; Wooyoung is winking cheekily at the camera, holding up a big wad of cash. San won the match.

does this mean takeout is on you guys next time? you text him. After a brief pause you add, also congratulations i guess

(But the dismissive tone is just for show, riling each other up a natural part of your relationship with Wooyoung. You’re smiling as you press send, knowing how much a win means to him and San, how hard they work for it.)

Your phone buzzes again. you should come over

for takeout?

idk about takeout but there’s definitely a meal in it for you ��😜😘🍆💦

You can’t decide whether to grin or roll your eyes at the message and its string of emojis at the end, but you do send Wooyoung an affirmative text back. Your face decides on a grin as you put your phone down, a spark of excitement coursing through you. Guess you’re going out tonight after all.

This thing between you and San and Wooyoung has been going on long enough that usually you don’t even bother dressing up for them anymore, but hey, it’s a special occasion, right? So you slip on some lacy underwear and wiggle into a cute dress, and do a quick check in the mirror to make sure you’re looking at least halfway decent. (Not too much fuss. Wooyoung did text you in the middle of the night.)

Just before you go, your phone buzzes one last time; Wooyoung warns you to send a text once you get to the apartment, not ring the door. At first you do not give it too much thought; they do live in a crappy old place, might just be that the doorbell is broken.

But then the added photo loads, and you see San is conked out on the couch, sitting with spread legs and his head lolled back, mouth slightly hanging open. Apparently he hasn’t even changed clothes since the match, wearing a dirty white tank top and a smattering of bruises across his tanned skin. His dark hair is a mess, pretty lips set in a natural pout while he sleeps.

Immediately, a fresh buzz of excitement surges through you. There is a whole new layer of thrill to this invitation now.

After driving over, you send Wooyoung a text that you’ve arrived. He opens the door for you with a bright grin, and puts a quick finger to his lips to indicate you have to be quiet. His sunglasses have disappeared somewhere between making a selfie and your arrival, saving him a roasting from you. He gives your dress an appreciative once-over, and casually kisses your cheek as he lets you in, resting his hand on the small of your back. His good mood is incredibly obvious, fingers brushing against the top of your ass.

You slip off your shoes and step further into the apartment. The place is a bit messy as always, furnished with a combo of thrift-shop finds, stuff they won off bets, and random things donated by friends. (Even their old van is a hand-me-down, though you have no idea where they got it from.)

The result is a home that’s chaotic, but friendly. Shelves piled with keepsakes, stories attached to everything they own. And for all the messiness, at least they do keep it somewhat clean.

There is a desk in the corner, with a few neat piles of paper money on top. Clearly Wooyoung was in the middle of counting — and accounting, his books laying open with a pen next to them. Despite all his antics, Wooyoung is actually pretty responsible with money. He knows that he needs to be, never sure when they’ll get their next win. (You suspect they run a few less-than-legal stints on the side, but neither seems too keen on making that their main gig.)

And then there is San, sitting on their old couch. Still fast asleep.

“Look how tired,” Wooyoung murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “He worked so hard today, I thought we should reward him. How about it, hm? Don’t you think he deserves a prize for taking home the victory?”

You lick your lips, a sharp craving growing in the pit of your stomach at the sight of San’s soft, sleeping face. As far as you are concerned, you are the one getting a prize here. It’s been a long time since you last had the chance to indulge in this particular kink; it can be tricky to coordinate when you don’t actually live in the same house.

And San makes such pretty noises when he’s asleep.

Wooyoung grins at the expression on your face. “Good girl,” he whispers indulgently, pressing one last kiss on your cheek before he playfully slaps your ass, pushing you towards the couch.

You glare back at him, even if the slap sent a crackle of pleasure through you. Just out of principle, to let Wooyoung know he can’t get away with everything. (He can absolutely get away with everything.)

But then you shift your focus to San, getting on your knees in front of him as quietly as possible. He usually is a deep sleeper but still, you are not about to risk waking him too early. You do take a moment to just look at him; to take in the way his broad chest moves with slow, even breaths.

The hard, battered muscles of his body are completely relaxed now, arms laying uselessly on the couch. There are marks on his knuckles, and it’s odd to think he was using those same fists to beat someone up, all for a cash prize, just a mere few hours ago. He looks so soft now. Not for the first time, you marvel at how handsome he is, the sharp cut of his jawline, pronounced cheekbones and pouty lips. So damn gorgeous, even with bruises marring his face, a particularly nasty one on the corner of his mouth. You want to kiss it, but you tuck that thought away for later.

San’s legs are already conveniently spread for you to shuffle close; could be a happy coincidence, could be that San was expecting this. Expecting you.

(This was a conversation you had long ago, where he’d given you a free pass to ‘wake’ him if an opportunity presented itself. It is entirely possible that he and Wooyoung discussed this before contacting you, and something about the idea of San falling asleep while thinking of your mouth on his dick makes you squirm in the best way.)

You press a hand against the front of his sweats, feeling the outline of his cock. You squeeze it with a light touch, give the impressive length a gentle stroke, and delight at the little “Hmm” that San sighs out.

Encouraged by the sound, you pull down the waistband of San’s sweats just enough so you can take his cock out, heavy in your hand. Still soft, though he gives a beautiful twitch when your thumb runs across a vein across the underside.

Your eyes glance up when Wooyoung sits down, just as carefully as you had been. He is slouched next to San with an arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers ghosting against San’s hair but never touching, while he raises his other hand to bite at his thumb. Uncharacteristically quiet, watching with rapt attention.

Heat pools between your thighs, you love being on display for him, teasing a sleeping San. You’re keenly aware of how your dress has ridden up, your ass sticking out, your neckline low enough for an ample view of your cleavage — though you’re sure it’s your hand that has Wooyoung’s full attention right now, wrapped around his lover’s slowly hardening dick.

You gather saliva in your mouth, then let it dribble down on your fingers and San’s cock. He moans, shifting slightly, lips parting a little wider as you take advantage of the easier slide of your palm. The sound goes right to your core; San’s moans are just a bit shallower when he is asleep, a bit more high-pitched. More needy.

More noises start to slip from his lips as you slowly stroke the length of his thick cock, thumb playing against his slit. Sometimes his hips shift to follow your movement, but he does not wake, his conscious mind unaware of your fist working him to full hardness.

San is getting beautifully flushed, a redness blooming across his cheeks and neck as he lets out a faint whimper, brow furrowed. It is always a fun game, to see how far you can take him before he wakes up — before you are treated to that toe-curling moment of aroused disorientation on San’s face, that split-second where he can’t quite figure out why he is so fucking horny until he sees you, nested between his thighs, and a sleepy yet cocky grin breaks out on his face.

But it’s not come so far yet; San is still under the hold of his tired slumber. His breath hitches as your fist twists around the head of his cock, almost like a little hiccup, precum mingling with your spit. You know you can’t hold off your impatience for much longer.

Wooyoung is still staring, though his eyes wander between San’s cock and the wiggle of your ass, his cheeky tongue dipping out to wet his lips. His gaze is heated, intense, and the slight asymmetry of his eyelids makes his stare only more attractive and striking, dotted by the little mole under his eye. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth as he watches, but grins when he catches you watching him in turn. He leans forward, elbow on his knees, and beckons for you to offer your hand.

You do so, and watch how Wooyoung decadently works his mouth and lets a thick globule of spit fall past his lips, onto your waiting palm. His grin widens when you moan weakly as his saliva mingles with yours, with San’s precum, and generously gives you more until your hand is messy and slick. Finally satisfied, Wooyoung leans back with a flirty wink.

You make good use of Wooyoung’s ‘contribution’, pumping San just a little faster now. His noises start to pick up, face contorted with unaware pleasure as a small trail of drool escapes the corner of his mouth. It won’t be long now before he wakes. Honestly, you are surprised it has lasted this long at all; San’s fight must have been particularly strenuous tonight.

Just when you contemplate whether it’s time to get your tongue involved, Wooyoung suddenly gets up from the couch.

You try not to get distracted by him moving around behind you, keeping your focus on San, but then you feel a little tap against your ass. You turn your head to see him lying on his back, head between your feet with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Lift your ass up, he mouths and gestures simultaneously.

You do exactly that, allowing Wooyoung to slide under you with his hands on your waist, his face right underneath the flimsy scrap of lace that covers your dripping core, barely worth the name ‘underwear’. “Seriously?” you whisper, though even just the sight of him, raised eyebrow and ready to eat you out, has more arousal leaking into your thong.

“Hey, San isn’t the only one who worked hard for this match,” Wooyoung whispers quietly, wetting his lips. “Don’t I deserve a reward, too?”

Well… If Wooyoung’s idea of a reward is to have you ride his face, then who are you to deny him? You really keep getting the better deal out of their hard-earned victory. Still, you roll your eyes at him, just to let him know how ridiculous you think he’s being, though the increasingly damp spot on your underwear tells Wooyoung all he needs to know.

He lets out a pleased, dark chuckle as you lower yourself down, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist as he positions you for the best angle. He does not even bother to pull the scrap of lace aside, happily eating you out through it.

San whines when your fingers squeeze around him, liquid oozing from the tip, his hips stuttering lightly before he settles back down. His cock is flushed dark, pulsing in your hand, but it is hard to focus on him right now. A lazy hand continues to stroke him while you struggle to focus on anything but Wooyoung’s muffled moans against your sopping heat.

You bite your lip to keep silent, hips moving on their own accord as Wooyoung’s nose presses against your clit, his mouth undeterred by the obstruction of lace as he makes a sloppy mess of your cunt, eagerly lapping away.

Wooyoung is rarely this quiet, but today he foregoes his usual dirty talk and running commentary to direct his full attention on reducing you to a mindless mess. He is a fiend with his mouth either way, thick swipes of his tongue and grazing teeth, mouth suckling at you through the now-ruined lace.

It takes all your self-control to stay on task, to not get distracted by the sound of a zipper, and soon after the wet noise of Wooyoung jerking himself off, still moaning against your leaking cunt. You shake yourself out of it, wrapping your lips around just the head of San’s cock, licking at the steady stream of precum while you use both hands to work his length. He twitches in your mouth, and for a moment you wonder if he’s going to cum without even waking up at all.

But then Wooyoung uses his nose to nudge your thong aside and sucks directly at your clit, and you moan loudly around San’s cock at the sudden stimuli.

San starts awake at the vibration, his hips reflexively jerking forward. You happily meet his thrust to gag on him, making San hiss a throttled curse. “F-fuck, what’s-ahhh—”

His hand flies to your hair, instinctively holding you in place. Your eyes tear up as he hits the back of your throat and stays there, but you can still glance upward to look at him — and he’s a fucking sight to behold. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, his mouth slack and panting hard for breath as he tries to get his bearings. Eyes landing on you, his cock twitching as understanding dawns. The moment is every bit as beautiful as you had imagined.

“Look who it is, Sannie,” Wooyoung grins when he notices San is awake, taking a break from tongue-fucking you. “Came over just to congratulate you. Ain’t that sweet?”

“Fuck,” San chokes out, his voice gravelly from sleep. He hisses sharply when you hollow your cheeks and give a light suck, drawing a low groan. Slowly, the sleep retreats from his eyes and is replaced by a dark alertness, though his face is still flushed, his body tired.

Lazily, he lets you continue doing what you do, only stroking your hair in encouragement as he releases you, letting you return to shallower bobs of your head. “Fuck, baby, just like that,” he groans, biting his lip. Once again, your attention is drawn to the bruise on the corner of his mouth, aching to be kissed — but your own mouth is preoccupied. Later, you promise yourself. There will be time for that later.

As expected, San’s moans are a little deeper now he is awake, slowly rocking his hips as he watches you take him further with every pass of your mouth. You wonder if he’s even aware of the difference in his sounds, or if that’s just a little secret for you and Wooyoung to know.

Speaking of Wooyoung — now that he doesn’t have to keep quiet for San, he gets talkative again. “Use me, baby,” he groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Come on, ride me a little harder. Don’t be shy. Smear that wet pussy all over my face.”

You don’t need to be told twice, enthusiastically granting Wooyoung’s request. He moans happily as you fuck yourself on his tongue, any further words muffled between your thighs. You’d worry about whether Wooyoung can even breathe, except he has a death-grip on your hips and refuses to let you slow down. His nose repeatedly bumps into your clit, sending sparks through you every time, your moans reverberating around San.

San grunts at the feeling, voice husky and low. But as attractive as the sound is… some part of you wants to hear his whimper again. Just to see if you can make him do it.

Well. There are a few sure-fire ways you know to push San to the very limit and beyond — and one of them is immediately available to you.

He was already pushing deep inside your mouth, but you do your best to relax your throat and surge forward, your nose brushing his pelvis as you choke yourself on his cock, then pull back to do it again. And again. A lewd, wet gurgle filling the room every time, your throat constricting as you strain around his thick shaft, tears burning in your eyes.

San groans at your renewed efforts, a greed shining in his sharp eyes when he realises what you’re doing, what you are asking him to do. His fingers scrape your scalp as they embed tighter around the strands of hair. Recognising the unspoken invitation to fuck your mouth as hard as he wants.

“That’s it,” he growls, “you know how I like it. Choke on my cock, hm? I’ll stuff you until you can’t breathe.”

You can barely breathe already; it’s hard to pull in air through your nose like this, with San steadily rocking his hips forward. You go slack in his hold, just letting him use you to his liking, trying to curl your tongue around the underside of his cock in the way you know drives him up the wall.

Wooyoung makes a noise when you slump down on his face, and you try to catch yourself but he won’t have it, only sucking more eagerly onto your clit as he grabs onto your thighs to keep you in place. You moan loudly, and San curses in response, his breath getting pitchy.

It’s working, you realise. It’s not as much as when he is asleep, but slowly a whiny lilt creeps into San’s voice as he uses your throat, his face contorted with pained pleasure.

Your head starts to spin, the barrage of sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Slick sounds and deep moans, a heady scent of arousal permeating the air. San’s cock obstructing your breath, his little whines; Wooyoung’s tongue nimbly flicking against your clit, his hands squeezing at the soft meat of your thighs. You’re tilting, slowly but surely, right over the edge when Wooyoung sucks harshly, exactly when San whimpers.

It hits you like a freight train, the violent force of it enough to have you sobbing around San’s cock. You tremble and shake as electricity surges through you, only held up by San and Wooyoung’s hold on you.

Your garbled cries take San over the edge with you, though he still has enough restraint to pull back slightly, no longer nudging against your gag reflex. He shudders with a tight hiss, clumsy fingers catching in your hair as he spills hot seed inside your mouth.

You almost choke again; it’s messy, and there is a lot, leaving you to wonder if San has been abstaining before the match. Lately you certainly haven’t done more with them than casual texts or hangouts, but can make no assumptions about what he and Wooyoung get up to when you’re not around.

You try your best not to swallow it down — and not spill a single drop, either. At the latter, you don’t succeed entirely, a thin wet trail dribbling down your lips when San pulls out and slumps back onto the couch with a final, loud groan. But when Wooyoung gets out from underneath to sit next to you, and pushes a thumb on your bottom lip to show him, you can proudly stick out your tongue to him, sticky whiteness on display.

“Good girl,” Wooyoung purrs, fondly cupping your cheek. “Don’t even need me to tell you anymore, huh? So well-behaved for us.”

You moan contently at the praise, and again when Wooyoung eagerly puts his lips on you, sloppily lapping up San’s cum from your chin, your lips, until his tongue invades your mouth for a proper meal. You can taste yourself on him while Wooyoung tastes San, who is watching it all with a small, cocky grin, teeth flashing at you.

Wooyoung lets out a needy moan as he drinks deep, his tongue sliding against yours in a heady dance. He grabs for your hand, guiding you down to his still-hard cock, hot and weeping precum. Your fingers are still messy and slick, making it easy for you to jerk him off while he continues to hungrily kiss you, licking up every last drop he can reach.

It’s less of a challenge to make Wooyoung whimper, but the sound is no less exciting for it, his high-pitched moans like music to your ears. He cums messily in your hand, some spilling onto your dress. With a final bite to your bottom lip, he pulls away from your mouth, eyes heavy-lidded and looking thoroughly fucked out, lips swollen and shiny from the essences of both you and San. You grin at him, lifting your hand to suck his cum off your fingers.

Only then do you turn to San, who is indulging himself with slow strokes on his cock while he still watches you and Wooyoung intently.

“Congratulations on the match,” you say casually, cum-stained fingers lingering on your lips.

San’s grin returns to his face and he grabs your hand to pull you into his lap…where you finally get to kiss that bruise on the corner of his mouth. He winces as you press up to him, and you can hear Wooyoung grouse next to you.

“Be careful with him, alright? That’s my meal ticket you got there,” he complains, dusting himself off as he gets back on his feet.

But San wraps his arms around you, keeping you captive. “You don’t have to be that careful,” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands firmly planted on your ass as he grinds you against his crotch. The night is not over quite yet.

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

An indeterminate time and a thorough shower later, you are sitting snugly between San and Wooyoung on their shabby old couch. They graciously borrowed you some clothes, leaving you cosily wrapped in a pair of San’s sweats and one of Wooyoung’s oversized hoodies. In your hands you have freshly delivered takeout, enjoying a hot meal together with the guys.

Their treat, of course.

1K notes · View notes

yxami · 6 months

Text

Happy nut or not November day 6

desc: yandere childhood friend x gn reader, heavy amounts of jealousy and obsession, yandere stuff, I feel like this is doodoo

“You’re the most jealous man I know” You spoke with heavy amusement in your voice as you wrote down your grocery list to prepare yourself for a run downtown where you could buy the ingredients for dinner.

“You know other men?” Your childhood best friend’s tone was serious and splashed with a threatening concern of jealousy. You knew he had his problems with you and other potential threats to your close friendship but was it really getting this bad?

“Ha… no?” You put your pen down just a second before you see a quarter of your room whizz past you with his one hand spinning your chair so you were forced around to face him.

“Don’t lie” He huffs, looking like a dog that was stripped of a pup cup after being promised one. “I should be the only man in your life” He whispers, scooting you to the left of your chair so he could squeeze next to you and rightfully slip you into his lap.

“There’s going to be plenty of people in my life, I can’t just avoid every guy that comes along” You sigh, feeling him wrap his arms around your lower stomach as if you were a stuffed animal, keeping you locked in with a comfortable grasp.

“You’re right” He sighs against the back of your neck, making the hair stand up, his lips pressed against your skin before he spoke. “You should keep away from everyone, and just stay in my house forever” He traces the folds on your jeans, running his fingers down your thighs back and forth.

“Very funny” You roll your eyes, reminding him that you weren’t done with your grocery list.

He gives you the time to write down two vegetables for dinner before he’s interrupting you again. “I’m coming on this trip too, right?” He rests his head on your shoulder, not masking that he was reviewing your list along with watching your every move, you already knew he would since he was your best friend and full time stalker anyways.

“If you wanna but im gonna take awhile grabbing everything so you might as well stay home” You wave your hand, grabbing the outfit you were going to wear but not yet changing like he assumed you would.

“I’ll come with you, it’s okay!” He insists before getting kicked out and ordered to stay outside while you change.

Like always, he was sitting right outside, waiting until you were done.

Once the two of you make it to the grocery store you make sure he sticks close by you so he can grab the items you need while you read them out. If he’s going to be here he might as well make himself useful, right? You mentally speak to yourself as you see him looking for the right item.

You’re too distracted with reviewing the list and adding an emoji next to every item you have in the cart to pick up on a lingering stare, not the one that you feel everyday anyways.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Your best friend growls at a person running their eyes up and down all over your body, as if you weren’t already taken by him.

You turn your head almost immediately to see who he was talking to, towering over a stranger holding on a face with enough level of seriousness that says he’s ready to beat them to a pulp.

“Hey hey, let’s just go cmon” You tug on the sleeve of his sweater, switching your attention on the aisle and then on them, hoping nobody would enter to see the situation laid before you.

You didn’t want to see your best friend in another fight, especially not at your favorite grocery store. You’re honestly shocked he hasn’t gotten arrested yet with how many fights he gets into.

“No, I wanna see what the fuck this bitch was staring at” He doubled down, glaring daggers into the limbs that he wanted to tear off of this creep.

“Let’s just go get the rest of our list” You pull on him more, looking extremely worried, which immediately gets your friend’s attention. He sighs and growls threats under his breath, making it loud enough for the creep to hear.

And as soon as he turns, the idiot scurries away faster than when they was caught.

“I’m sorry, that just pissed me off badly, they shouldn’t have been staring” He frowns, seeing how upset you looked. “I don’t mean to pick fights I swear, I just don’t want guys looking at you like that” He curls his arm around your lower torso, pulling you in for a hug.

“Sorry” He meekly says, resting his head on yours.

“It’s fine, just stop getting into fights before you get your ass beat” You picked up your phone to see what was next on the list, dragging him along the entire trip before he could pick another fight.

He was a handful but at least he listened to you?

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ssahotchnerr · 2 months

Note

hi babe! was wondering if you could write something abt hotch + reader having their daughter’s first birthday and all of the team is there and it’s so cute and we get big brother jack.

maybe it including light bickering between them but it’s so clear they love each other so much still and it really is just pointless bickering. something fluffy for sure.

up to you! i trust your wonderful writing , thank u bunches !

- 🕷️ [is this anon emoji taken yet? oops if it is!]

take the bench

AHH that's so adorable 🥹 cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, domestic banter <3 and aaron being very dad <3

"are you kidding, look how cute!" you exclaimed, holding up the little outfit for all to see. your daughter's tiny hands immediately made a grab at it. "this is perfect for spring."

"after two boys, i can't express enough how fun it is shopping for a girl." jj gushed, resting her chin comfortably on her hand. "new section of the store unlocked."

all had gathered for baby girl's very first birthday, and it's been quite the eventful afternoon. lively conversations, a plentiful spread of food, cake on the horizon.

currently your daughter was sat comfortably on your lap, while you orchestrated the whole present-opening extravaganza.

at her young age, she could pull the tissue paper out of the gift bags as instructed, you and jack helped with the actual paper ripping as needed. whether it was you tearing off a starter piece, or jack proudly fulfilling his big brother duties - simply unwrapping it entirely himself and excitably showing his sister what she had received.

and meanwhile, aaron had the most dad job: trash bag duty. it was right up his alley naturally, being sure to punctually collect the scraps of paper before they touched the ground; preventing a mess at all costs.

which ultimately, led up to a new game.

"jack," aaron grabbed his son's focus, holding the bag open and jack caught on instantly. he grinned, balling up and throwing the tissue paper in hand in aaron's direction.

it started off gentle; quiet cheers when jack made the shot, not to mention the growing smiles on both ends. but then it soon turned into them firing off at each other, a bit too aggressive in the constraints of the living room. jack's laughter heightened with each throw, and henry even began to join in from time to time.

while still enamored by the gifts, all thanks to her brother and father's volume, baby girl's attention was quickly drawn to them. she let out a high pitched squeal every time wrapping paper flew over her head and through the air, attempting to wiggle her way off your lap.

as much as you loved aaron and jack carelessly enjoying themselves, and the addictive giggles emitting from your daughter, you also didn't want to take the focus away from everyone's generous gifts. they had spent time, and money, and deserved the proper recognition in return.

"aaron." you warned lightly, raising an eyebrow when his gaze shot to yours - a silent, but loving nonetheless, quit it.

"alright bud," aaron caught the last makeshift ball from jack with his hand, shoving it into the trash. "take the bench. the ref is giving me that look."

"but dad-"

"you heard me. and your mother."

jack let out a small whine, but promptly complied. he returned to the stack of his sister's presents, shifting through and looking for the next one to give her.

"for someone on clean up duty, you sure are making quite the mess." you teased once you caught aaron's eyes again, jack placing the next gift in front of you, "a larger one, if i may add."

"mess isn't in my vocabulary." aaron quipped right back, a delightfully smug look on his face. "you shouldn't be the one talking."

you cocked your head to the side, comically, "oh?"

"who's side of the closet is currently exploding?"

"who's sock drawer has seen better days?"

"the parents are fightingggg." derek stretched out his voice, murmuring humorously under his breath and nudging penelope with an elbow. while the soft tone, his statement was for all to hear.

now, it was your turn to (lightly, as to not jostle baby girl) chuck a ball of wrapping paper at him. derek ducked, barely, laughing loudly as he straightened his posture back upright.

"good try, but not good enough mamas. you gotta work on your aim."

"see, i'm not making a mess." aaron teased as he came near to grab it off the carpet, taking a detour as well to give your lips a quick peck. "you have that title perfectly under control, darling."

you playfully rolled your eyes, a smile dancing its way onto your lips. aaron couldn't resist the sight, kissing you once more. "oh bite me, hotchner."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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erwinsvow · 2 months

Text

𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

summary: rafe's realizing how much better he is now, ever since he met you

word count: 1.6k

now spinning: love song by lana del rey

author's note: can't think about anything else but rafe being happy n content.... eeeee <3

part of this little universe

Rafe’s beginning to think you’re really good for him.

It starts off pretty small—little things, here and there. The way he doesn’t go to bed completely angry and pent up anymore—that’s because you text him good night, every night, without fail. Even when he doesn’t say it first, even when he’s not on his phone and told you he’d be busy taking care of stuff with his dad all day.

After your first date, when you were sitting in the passenger seat of his truck—licking on an ice cream cone he’d bought you after dinner because the two of you were have a difficult time trying to find a reason to end the night—he opens up his phone to add your number to his contacts, and you hover over his shoulder, choosing little emojis to have next to your name and being very picky about it.

When you finally decide on the perfect combination, he turns to look at your face, which is way too close to his. He decides then and there that you wanted to be kissed, because you’d never get so close if you didn’t. The truth was that you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from how the little blue heart and butterfly and flowers looked next to your name in his phone, but he doesn’t need to know that, not if he’s going to kiss you like that every time.

And now whenever he picks up his phone and sees those little blue shapes, he feels better, instantaneously.

So much so that he doesn’t yell at Wheezie and Sarah so much anymore. That’s another small thing— Rafe can’t even recall what he used to get so annoyed about, so angry that he’d pick fights over it. Sarah’s never home anyways, but when she is, you’re making conversation with her, smiling up at Rafe trying to involve him in the discussion about whatever the hell you guys talk about.

Wheezie’s always home, and he actually realizes how funny she is, especially with you. He sits on the couch with his laptop, looking at things that you don’t understand and don’t really care about, while Sleepless in Seattle plays on the television.

You and Wheezie sit next to each other, half-eaten popcorn and candy scattered between you two, a box of tissues within reach because you told her they were absolutely necessary, even though she didn’t believe you.

Rafe only looks up when hears the unmistakable sound of you sniffling and crying—panicking briefly, trying to make sure he handles this correctly, properly, so he doesn’t scare you away—when he realizes it’s just the movie.

He lets out a sigh of relief, of which you take note. You turn to hand Wheezie a tissue and then look back at Rafe, worried he’s going to be annoyed that you’re crying over this movie.

It’s silly, because he’s been nothing but nice to you, sweet as sugar all the time, but you remember what your friends used to tell you, the back-and-forth with Sarah, Wheezie’s comments about how much nicer Rafe’s been recently. How he’s been nicer since he met you. You look at him for a little, seconds passing by as your heart thuds in your chest.

“I can’t believe this-” you hear Wheezie sob in the background, reaching for another handful of popcorn. “They just left!”

You almost turn away from Rafe just then, not wanting to see his reaction, when he closes his laptop and slides his body over to sit closer to you, one hand around your shoulder pulling you close and the other reaching to grab a clean tissue, holding it in his hand for you, for when you need it. You smile against his chest, clasping your hand around his.

“You really cry over this crap, kid?” You whine, a muffled noise of protest spoken against his shirt, half-hearted. “We all knew they were gonna end up together.”

“Yeah, I guess we did,” you murmur, not paying attention to the movie anymore, eyes hyper-focused on the shiny metal of Rafe’s ring on his fingers.

“Shut up, Rafe, I’m watching this-”

“You shut up, Wheeze, and pass the chocolate.”

It’s become a regular occurrence, actually, having you around at Tannyhill. You go through plenty of movies with Wheezie, occupying her time while getting to be with Rafe. You join them for their periodic family dinners, dolled up in your nicest clothes even though Rafe tells you it doesn’t matter. He wants you down there in his hoodie, but you refuse.

You want to make a good impression on Ward, you tell him, that it’s important to you if his dad likes you, if he approves of you, if he likes having you around. Rafe doesn’t get why you care—you’ll still be in his life whether Ward approves or not—but he plays along with it.

You wear pretty blue dresses and bring chapter books from the library for Wheezie and some history novels for his dad. You’re all smiles and conversation at their normally silent table, which he thinks is nice. Rafe still believes it would be nicer if it was just the two of you, but he doesn’t say anything.

A picture constructs itself in his head—you and him at the dinner table of your house, the house you two will have together. You’d decorate everything all cute—he can picture it now—but he’s really focusing on when you and he can have these family dinners together, a couple of high chairs and pureed food and screaming toddlers running around. He doesn’t know where the image came from, probably from the sweet way you are with his family, but now it’s rooted itself like an infection that’s impossible to get rid of. He thinks of it, and feels better, and it must be obvious to everyone around him, but you never say anything.

It’s gotten to the point where even Ward notices it, though he refrained from commenting for as long as he could. Besides for dinner and the occasional Good morning sweetheart when you’re passing through the kitchen with Rafe, he doesn’t bother you two much.

That’s why it really surprises Rafe when he brings you up one day.

“You seem… better, son,” his father says, and he wants to summon up some kind of retort to fire back, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe the impact you have on him is bigger than he thought. “It’s good. She’s good for you. Make sure you take care of her.”

He thinks for a second. There was a time where the first thing out of his mouth would be Don’t tell me how to treat my girl.

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, dad.”

And then, suddenly, you’re everywhere, a part of everything. He can’t even sit in his truck without thinking of how you should be in the passenger seat. His house feels empty when you’re not curled on the couch trying to decide on what movie to rewatch for the millionth time. He can’t even find any insults for your stupid Pogue friends, because of course they want to spend time with you, when you make everything brighter like this.

Rafe used to think it’d be humiliating to feel like this, actually being dependent on someone for once, acting and doing better because of you and feeling better even when you’re not there. He doesn’t feel humiliated at all though, he feels surprisingly content, despite everything that’s going on. It’s all background noise now. He feels even better when his door opens, and you make your way into his bedroom.

“Hey,” you say, setting down your bag on his desk. It lands with a thud, probably filled with your current read and another couple of books for his sister. “They all went down to the Chateau to smoke, so I just came over, I hope that’s okay-” You stop talking when you turn and see how he’s looking at you, getting up from his bed to walk up to you. “Rafe? You okay?”

You look at him real sweet, like you’re wondering what could be wrong and how you can help fix it. It’s precious, but he already knew that. His father’s words run through his head again—he has to make sure to take good care of you.

“Perfect. Even better ‘cause you’re here now.” You shove your hand against his chest, letting out a breath of relief.

“You scared me,” you say with a laugh. You go back to your bag, rustling through it to produce three books, just like he guessed. He starts smiling when you turn around to offer it to him.

“Got one for you this time.” You're beaming, eyes looking at him expectantly.

“Thanks, kid,” he says, and he can’t help the smile that’s growing. He brings you in for a hug the way he always does, arm around your shoulder and guiding you to his chest, and you lean against him like that, holding on tight, breathing steady in his grip. Whatever anger and frustration was bubbling inside melts away with every passing second of touching your soft skin and smelling the scent of your hair.

It’s no surprise when you two end up a tangled mess in bed hours later, your head resting above his heart, wrapped in his grip, while you start reading the book you got for Rafe aloud.

“Y’know what we should do?” he starts, quietly, interrupting you while you’re flipping to the next page.

“Hm?” you murmur back, feeling your eyes fluttering shut without the book open and ready to read to distract you into staying awake. Rafe’s skin is warm and his grip is tight. You could fall asleep in seconds right now.

“Get married.”

#self indulgent?????/ it's my new middle name #i hope everyone likes i feel like everyone wanted more of this rafe!#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

Note

Hii!! So I just read your new fic with vox (phenomenal job by the way!!) and I saw your SNEEKY LITTLE A/N AT THE END and I MUST know how that went 😋

Could you pretty please write the morning aftermath of Dom!Reader railing Vox into the mattress? He’d be all weepy and teary and apologizing profusely but it just comes out as him babbling nonsense? I have such bad Vox brain rot and it’s consuming my very SOUL.

Also im not sure if you do emoji anons, but if you do , can I please be 🪐? Thank you soooo much and I love your writing!!

a/n — I didn’t expect to write this fic so soon. I thought i’d at least procrastinate a week.

summary — A follow up of a previous fic where Vox annoyed the reader to the point they cried. This is afterwards where the reader decides to punish thehell out of Vox and rail him into a mattress.

warnings — Smut, gn reader, but afab implied, aka use of the word ‘strap’ like once, dom reader, sub Vox

Vox was no stranger to taking a punishment from you. But he doesn’t think you’ve ever got this hard on him.

In hindsight, he should have saw it coming when you asked him to wear the buttplug in the morning. So he could be ‘ready for tonight.’ A perfectly normal sentence alluding to sex, right?

Well it would be, if not for the growl in your voice and the sinister smile. He knew why he was being punished.

The previous day he had been too much of a brat during a time where you were already overwhelmed. It was a shitty thing to do and if he was being honest, he did feel bad. But now, of course he would pay for it.

That’s exactly what led him to his current position underneath you, face down in the mattress and ass up in the air.

Your hands had a deathly grip on his hips, tight enough to leave a terrible bruise the next day. You didn’t care though, as this was probably the most genuinely pissed off you’ve ever been at Vox during sex.

You aggressively thrust into him, making him yelp. “What the fuck—ffzz— Take it easy, god,” He complained uselessly, knowing this would only make you more angry.

“Aw, i’m sorry. I thought you wanted a reaction out of me, you pathetic fucking attention whore,” you spit out your words, rolling your hips faster.

He bit back a whine, reluctant to let you win so soon, despite the aching feeling of guilt building up in his stomach.

“Would you— hngh— would you get over it, already?” He grunted out, trying to hold back his needy noises.

Now that you could take a little teasing, he wanted to see you mad. He wanted to make you fuming enough to fuck him until he cries.

There was a desperate depraved need in him to see you tear him apart. Oh, and his approach was working.

“I’ll be over it once I blow your fucking back out, slut. You really never know when to shut up, huh, Vox?” You hiss rolling your hips and an even but incredibly fast pace.

You could see Vox squirm underneath you, hiding his face in the pillows to muffle his moans.

“Fuck, just like that I— bzzsh—“ he try’s not to beg, wanting to sound more like a demand.

In his own way, he was still in control in this situation. As long as you kept fucking him like that, he would have a fantastic orgasm in no time.

“Oh, you wouldn’t be trying to hide your pathetic noises in those pillows, are you, baby?” All of a sudden your hips slow down.

Before Vox could think he let a simple whine slip from his throat. The build up to his climax was interrupted by your sudden change of pace.

“Fuck— what are you—“ Your hips slow to a stop and you pull out.

“Hey!” He yells, on the brink of a tantrum, “I was fucking close.”

You flip him over so he’s on his back looking up at you. There’s a growl to your voice the next time you speak.

“No, the fuck you weren’t,” you tease his hole with the tip of your strap, “Your not close until I say so, how about that?”

He whimpers softly and squeezes his eyes shut, wishing desperately to feel you inside of him again.

“Are you sorry, yet?”

“Yes, I am. St—szz—stop teasing, fuck,” he whines, gazing bitterly up at you.

“No, you’re not sorry. You will be though,” without warning, you plunge back into him. He yelps and grabs onto your neck for support.

You went at an agonizing pace, one that made tears prick in the corner of Vox’s eyes.

You seemed so genuinely mad at him. In fact, you seemed to get increasingly mad by the second. He was sure he wasn’t imagining this, from the sharp way you dug into his hips with your nails, or the aggressive way you thrusted into him.

Whether Vox liked it or not, he was beginning to feel sorry. Your degrading and scornful words started to wear on him, and he clung to your neck tightly.

“Oh god, Oh god pleas—szz—please,” he whined into your ear, feeling his screen heat up from being overwhelmed, “Oh please i’m s—szz—sorry. I’m so sorry,”

He thought about how upset he made you earlier and all at once, he was ashamed of himself. His brain started to feel fuzzier and fuzzier with every roll of your hips. He was tired of feeling hated by you and regretted making you so mad.

“Ungh, please— bzz— ‘m sorry ‘m sorry,” his screen blanked out for a few seconds before he came too with a large moan.

“What do you want me to say, sweetheart? You want me to praise you and call you a good boy for saying sorry?” You tease.

Vox whimpers and vigorously nods his head, desperate for a taste of your sweet forgiveness.

“Well, I’m sorry baby. That’s just not enough,” you buck up into him, rather harshly. He cries miserably.

“Please i’ll be so good—ozzs— I’ll be such a good boy, I’ll do anything, pleas—szz—ease,” He babbled, tears falling from his eyes and dripping onto his screen.

“I’ll treat you so much better, ‘m sorry, I s—szz—swear,” His grip tightens around your neck, clawing digging into you slightly. You grab onto his lower back for support, one hand still on the mattress.

All of his composure was completely gone and he was becoming borderline incoherent. The lights flickered around you and his screen blacker out more multiple seconds at a time.

You shoved back down onto the mattress, removing his arms from your neck as you thrust into him. He whined at the loss of contact and noticed the unavoidable, incredibly rare, feeling of guilt sink deep into him.

He said he was sorry and he really meant it, he didn’t want you to be mad at him anymore.

You took pity on him when you saw his teary eyes and his fucked out screen. Leaning down, you sink your teeth into his neck and suck, still thrusting upward into him.

After a moment of drawing more whimpers from Vox, you finally show some mercy.

“Are you close, sweetheart?” you purr into his neck. He whimpers and sobs something inaudible.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Ungh— Yes, fuck—bzzz— ‘m close,” His audio buffered more than twice every two seconds, making you shush him back into soft whines.

His eyes were still weepy from the guilt and from the lack of praise contrasted with all the attention.

“You’re lucky i’m so nice,” you remarked, rolling your hips, “Usually I wouldn’t let a crybaby like you cum so soon.”

He half sobs at your harsh words. You follow them up soon, however.

“But I think you’ve had enough punishment? huh, pretty boy?” You say, moving your hand down to toy with his aching dick.

He cries out, whining and squirming pathetically. You rub the tip, trying to coax his orgasm out.

“Don’t hold back on me now, Vox. We both know you wanna cum,” you tease down at him, “My sweet boy,”

He moans thrashing around under all the attention given to his ass and dick. He didn’t pick up on the next few words you said, they didn’t sound nice, though.

Within a couple seconds, his screen goes completely blank as he climaxes, falling back into the mattress, breathless.

You don’t pull out yet, instead leaning down to coo sweet praises at him for taking his punishment so well.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson baby. There’s a time and a place to be a brat,” you plant a kiss on his screen, “You took it all so well thought, sweetheart. ‘m so proud of you.”

He whined under your touch, needing to be held by you. It took him a moment for him to realize the room around you two was completely dark. Somewhere in the mix, the power had gone out and he’d hadn’t noticed

When you finally pulled out and wrapped your arms around him, he snuggled in.

He did end up learning his lesson. Lesson being; bratting out on good days leads to being fucked good and hard.

He’d keep it in mind for next time.

a/n — Oh my god i’m sorry i’ve been so inactive this week. I have not been feeling it lately but i’ll try to get more shit out later.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x you #dom reader #inbox open #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox x you

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tlou-reid · 3 months

Note

Hiii! I absolutely love your writing and I was wondering if you could write something about Spencer reid and reader who have just started dating and they get into their first ever argument and it’s a bit angsty but cute(?) cause he gets all worried while reader is more experienced in the relationship department so she (or gn!reader, your choice) doesn’t worry as much cause she knows it doesn’t mean they’re over? And then he gets all pouty and clingy when they make up cause he hated being far from her sm🫶 I know its very specific and idk weird so its totally okay if you don’t wanna write it but I’d really appreciate it!!!

as an insecure certified lover girl i love this request and i am so sorry it took me so long to get to <3

spencer was not expecting you to leave. to argue, to complain, even to berate, but to leave? the thought the didn’t even cross his mind.

the argument had started over something stupid, probably like a teasing remark that had gone too far, or the fact that he had been nagging you about doing the dishes. he wasn’t sure. all that filled his mind now was the fact that you walked out the door and slammed it behind you. he wasn’t sure where you went to, or if you were coming back.

yet, he was frozen in place. his knees had begun to shake as tears started to well up in his eyes. for a genius, you are really fucking stupid, he thought. he couldn’t believe he blew things with you, already.

you two hadn’t officially been together long. only around 3 months, but had spent much more time together prior to that. he was truly falling for you, something he wasn’t expecting to do. he loved the way you laughed and the way you listened to him. he loved that you were always there to greet him with a wide smile and a tight hug when you he came back from cases. he loved being around you and he loved the positive energy you put out.

and he just ruined all of that over some stupid argument.

spencer was rarely one to be unsure. after all, he is a genius, so there wasn’t many things he didn’t know. but, standing alone in front of his apartment door, he was clueless. should he run after you? should he wait it out? should he start packing up all of the things you’ve left at his apartment over these three months? he didn’t know.

so, like with most things he didn’t know, he was going to research. sure, to the common person googling “what to do after a fight with your girlfriend” would be corny, maybe even a little dumb, but not to spencer. when he couldn’t figure stuff out, he found other sources that could. so that’s what he was trying to do now.

much to spencer’s dismay, he was met with a whole bunch of editorials. not a single academic paper, dissertation, or research project had been conducted on the topic. so, he took what he could get and began reading over the newest People Magazine article titled “steps to making your girlfriend happy after being a bad boyfriend”.

he wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading, or how many different pop culture magazine websites he’d accidentally signed up for on his old desktop by the time his phone rang. it startled him, but he moved quickly to get it, assuming it was hotch calling him to come in for a case.

his heart sped up but his stomach dropped when he saw your first name, with the little otter emoji next to it. you had picked it, spencer didn’t even know there was an otter emoji.

his thumb slid over the answer button as quickly as he could move it, but once he brought the phone up to his ear, spencer couldn’t find any words.

the line was silent for a minute. you weren’t sure if he was even breathing on the other side. you wanted to give yourself time to cool off, separate from spencer. his little remark about your poor cooking skills had gotten to you, and you didn’t want it to become a massive argument. you didn’t know that spencer had spiraled after you left.

“are you going to come over or what?” you couldn’t help but let the residual anger you were holding slip out. despite this, spencer’s breath caught in his throat. you heard him take a deep exhale before saying, “you want me to come over?”

the desperation in his voice was so apparent, it broke your heart. any anger you were holding onto, or any bitterness about the comment he made completely wiped away when you heard spencer’s voice. you guessed that he had probably been crying. you softened your tone, and spoke slowly as you answered him, “of course i want you to come over, spence. we don’t get to have two sleepovers in a row very often.”

spencer’s hand was shaking as he listened to your words. he thought for sure you were going to break up with him. all he said was, “i’m on my way.” before hanging up.

you shouldn’t have been surprised at spencer throwing himself in your arms when you opened the door for him. he always craved physical touch, despite his fear of germs. he knew you and he cherished you, and all he wanted was to be close to you.

your hand snaked around his back as he buried his head in your shoulder. you tried to pretend you couldn’t feel the tears escaping from him. he wasn’t sobbing, there was just other way for him to have the emotional release he needed than to allow his tears to fall. your hand rubbed lovingly over his back, letting him adjust to being back with you.

“i’m so sorry,” he muttered against you. his hands were balled up between you two and you could feel him nervously squeezing his fists tighter. “spencer, it’s okay,” you assured.

you pulled away from him, only to wipe his tears away and move his hair out of his face. despite his height, he looked so tiny and vulnerable. “i didn’t mean to upset you,” he whined. “it’s okay,” you repeated, grabbing his hand to move him to the sofa.

you sat across from him, but he stared at the floor. “i thought you were breaking up with me,” he muttered. his voice was quiet and gentle. you couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “why would i do that?” you moved closer to him, tucking his hair behind his ear to get him to look at you. “i-i don’t know! you just left and you were angry and i thought you weren’t coming back,” tears were filling up his eyes again as he finally met your gaze.

“spence,” you cooed, “couples fight and sometimes they need space. a little argument like that is nothing. we’re okay,” you promised him. he nodded, then reached out to pull you into his chest. “i don’t like when you storm out like that,” he said. “‘m sorry,” you mumbled against him. he just nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

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xob1tchs · 3 months

Note

idk if you taking requests, but can you do a smut where reader and stiles are in a secret relationship cause reader is scott’s brother, n like one day stiles is so pussy drunk that he’s a whimpering moaning mess. and then scott just so happens to walk in. THEN reader starts to try and get up to follow her brother once he storms out the room, but stiles holds her back and continues until they both cum? just a thought..🫶🏽.

(btw idk if you do anon emojis but if so can i be ‘🧟‍♀️’)

. • °🍼✧༺ 17+ smut below the cut !

stiles has always joked about how he’s a lesser man when it comes to you, crude comments about how he’d give anything to spend all day between your legs, making you squirm just cause he likes it.

but it’s times like this when you actually think stiles might be a feign for pussy – your pussy.

the bed creaks with every rapid thrust of his hips, sheet sheilding where your bodies connect but it doesn’t matter because you can hear the squelching from your sopping folds, and feel the wetness seep down your ass crack splashing across the backs of your thigs when his sack hits your skin. and even if you could see the sight of his cock sliding in and out of you, it wouldn’t matter because – well stiles looks like that.

pupils blown wide as he stares down at you, bitten lips parted enough to let whines and groans slip free every couple of seconds, incoherent praises causing your sweaty skin to flush even more. he’s sweating too, fluffy hair matted to his forhead, sticking up in places from your gripping it.

“jesus fuck baby, love this cunt so much” he mutters, eyebrows frowning as he stares down st you with a determined pout “gonna fucking cum right in this tight pussy, feels too fucking good” you clench around him, gummy walls molding to every ridge and vein along his girthy length, arching your back off the back in hopes to feel him even deeper – whining and crying out when he does.

he drops his face to the crook of your neck, hips becoming slightly sloppy, movements less smooth and more desperate — cock twitching inside of you now, his release definitely nearing.

“oh’baby fuck me so good, feels so amazing” he’s practically crying into your shoulder, thrusting so forcefully your body begins to scoot up the bed, headboard nocking against the bed rhythmically “ — never gonna leave your cunt babe, might cry’feels so good”

your about to moan his name out, eyes rolling to the back of your skull when a creak sounds followed by a glass hitting the floor amd small whispered curse “oh shit!” he murmurs, and when you peak over stiles shoulder to lock eyes with ones that mirror your own, your breath completely leaves your lungs and sudden your trying to scramble away from stiles.

scott makes a face of disgust, throwing his hands up in the air as he spins on his heel, the sound of sneakers hitting the stairs loud as he stomps away “shit, shit, shit! stiles stop!” you cry, gasping when stiles shifts to his knees, pulling out to just the tip as he stares down at you with pleading eyes.

“gotta cum baby”

he slams back into you to punctuate his sentence, your jaw going slack in a silent moan, pussy clenching around his cock in a violent manner. your toes curl against the mattress, tears welling at your lash line – an overwhelming mix of embarrassment and pleasure taking over as he pounds into you so hard you’re worried he might actually hurt you.

you can feel the pulse and twitch of his cock against your straining walls, struggling to take him the deeper he goes, pressing your body so harshly into the bed you swear you hear the crackle of wooden planks beneathe your matress.

“s-stiles, it’s to-to much” you plead, mascara running streaks down your cheeks now, sweat and tears matting your hair to your face and neck, the sight making stiles go cross eyed, gripping the underneaths of your thighs as he leans back just enough to fold you in half, biceps rippling beneath his taut skin – prominent veins trailing up his fingers to his forearms, its enough to have your eyes rolling back into your skull, biting down on your bottom lip so hard blood fills your jaw, making you cry out in pain — but mostly because you’re cumming so hard that it drains the air from your lungs, stiles suffocating you with a wet and lazy kiss as his own orgasm creeps closer.

it’s not much longer before he’s becoming erratic in his thrusts, rhytm thrown a bump as he pumps his seed deep in your cunt, filling you so much it begins to spill put around the base of cock, and down his balls, making obscene noises as he pulls out with a weak hiss, dark eyebrows furrowing from the lack of warmth.

“maybe we’ll close the door next time?” he smirks down at your spent expression, brown eyes full of trouble.

. • °🍼✧༺ extremely unedited!

#teen wolf smut #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski smut #stiles smut #fanfic smut #fanfic #teen wolf #🧟‍♀️ anon <3

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deeoccasionallyspeaks · 3 months

Text

i just know yuuji religiously checks up on you after shibuuya.

he’s the one to come home & break the news to you. everyone else figures you’d rather hear it from him, & he does too. he comes immediately to you and kento’s shared apartment, still in his old clothes but he had the decency to wipe the blood & grime off of his face. solemnly brings his fist to the door to knock twice, knowing he had no choice but to give you the horrible news.

& you kind of already knew before yuuji even got there. kento always kept you updated, shooting a quick text in between exorcising curses. answering your “how’s it going” texts with a thumbs up emoji at the least.

however when you got that “you made life worth living. i love you” text from him, you already knew that was his way of saying goodbye. he just didn’t want to actually say it.

but you were so strong and mature, one of kento’s favorite traits of you. so you knew yuuji delivering the news to you would be harder on him. after all, he’s the one that called you and kento “mom & dad”. he’s the one who came over every sunday for family dinner. he’s the one who helped kento paint the living room a different color to surprise you.

so when yuuji does bring his fist up to knock, you immediately swing the door open greeting him with a sad smile. a look in your eyes that showed yuuji all too well that you already knew.

& the boy immediately shivers as a deep breathe he didn’t even realize he was holding escapes his lungs, letting out such a defeated sound. he immediately looks down and shakes his head, unable to look at you- almost as if he failed you.

however he did everything but fail you, and you let him know by wrapping your arms around the boy, finding the back of his head to craddle it. although much younger, his tall frame leans over into your shoulder as he lets the tears & whines leave his body. you silently cry with him, both of you doing your best to comfort one another.

“he was so proud of you, you know?” you whisper, applying more pressure to the comforting circles you were rubbing on his back, “he still is”.

you both stand in silence for a few minutes longer, coming to terms with the horrible reality that kento nanami was no longer physically with you, but now permanently resides in your hearts.

“thank you for coming, yuuji. i wouldn’t want to hear the news from anyone but you”

& the months after that are dreadful. you soon realize your strong personality could only hold you for so long. it gets hard to eat. bathing feels like a chore. you switch from being insolent to sorrowful. & you try to keep it together, but yuuji notices.

you are who he calls ‘mom’, afterall.

so he still comes by even when you send him a passive aggressive text saying you want to be alone. he brings you food and makes you eat it in front of him even if you say you already ate (he can tell when you’re lying). & he listens as you curse at whatever gods for taking your husband away from you. he understands when you break down and tell him you don’t know how to live life without kento.

& he doesn’t try to sell you dreams by telling you it’ll get better. he doesn’t try to make you see the bright side. no, he lets you grieve because, yeah, it’s not fair. no, you don’t deserve that, neither did kento.

but he keeps coming around to let you know that you’re not alone. to make bearing this burden a little easier.

& some more months go by, and yuuji hears the first real genuine laugh from you since the incident when he’s explaining a scene from this comedy movie he recently watched. you’re both sitting at the kitchen table, books strewn across the wood as yuuji came over needing help on a ridiculous assignment gojo assigned. & you both think that maybe things will start to feel better soon.

especially with kento’s framed picture looking down at you both from the wall adjacent.

yeah, things will get better soon.

———————————————————————-

omg i dont even know why i wrote that like why am i crying

#nanami x reader #nanami angst #jjk nanami #kento nanami x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader angst #kento nanami x you #kento x reader #kento x y/n #jjk angst

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s-4pphics · 4 months

Text

click! finale (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, parental trauma, self-worth issues, slight disordered eating, brief alcoholism and hypersexuality, heavy grief, pining but depressed

A/N: finally on break yaassss….. sequel? LOL

The air around you is strangling. You haven’t left your room in two days. You’re not passing this semester.

The room next to yours, however, is filled with life. Ellie’s back to blasting her music and banging on walls, but you have yet to cross paths. Not in class, not at home; You haven’t seen her. Pickle never hesitates to scratch at your door for hugs. And kisses. She’s brought you so much comfort, even in times where you feel like you’re undeserving.

Christmas is around the corner, and you’re alone. Amaya never shied away from taking you home for her breaks, but she’s gone. She hasn’t called in a while; You hope she’s doing okay.

So, you seek escape in a different way and do what you haven’t in a long time.

Tears flood your vision, your thumb hovering over a number you haven’t touched in ages. Your hands won’t stop trembling. You’re going to regret this. Your heart's already breaking into pieces at the heart and cloud emojis of the contact.

Soft paws knead your thighs and you kiss kit-kat’s tiny head as she nuzzles your chin. You’re trying to keep your sobs to a minimum, but they’re tearing your throat to shreds.

Your thumb comes down on the contact and the line rings. And rings… and rings until the dial tone sounds.

“At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press one for more options.”

You knew no one would answer. No one ever answers, but still, you listen for her voice. The steadiness of her breathing. You take a shaky breath, “Hi, mom.” Mindless sentences pour out of you like a waterfall. You just sit there and allow Pickle to playfully bite your finger.

“I, uh… I’m not…” Another sob, “I’m not doing well.”

You would never say that if she were here. You always masked your true feelings for her sake; She never needed any additional stress.

Void images of your father reoccur in your memory, “I think there’s something wrong with me… I don’t think I’m a g-good person.” A barbed tongue affectionately licks at your finger, and you try to smile.

“I… We found a kitty in the snow,” You whisper, “She's the cutest thing ever.” Pickle looks up like she knows what you’re saying, and you weep at her delicate eyes.

“It was the weirdest thing…” You huff wetly, “It felt like you put her there to stop me from making a mistake.” More tears flood your shut eyes.

“I just miss you…” Your palm digs into your eye, “and I wish you w-were here. I’m not…” Pickle climbs to rest in your lap; You always did that with your mom for comfort. Another loud sob.

“I lov— “

You jolt at the loud dial tone, and the line ends. You drop your phone on your blanket and search around your room, the portrait of your mother standing tall on your desk. You need to make another one for her birthday.

Your eyes travel over your space, and for the first time, you don’t feel comfort. Your mind is racing with thoughts that expose your truth; They’re vile and dirty and they make you feel like scum. A disease walking.

The dark nights are restless and the days are silent, halls only filled with soft purrs and pattering paws.

Your home no longer holds the joy that it once did when Amaya was here. Excitement used to burst through you whenever she prepped your movie nights after work, the living room filled with laughter and corny love lines that made your stomach secretly twist with warmth.

You’re not happy anymore. Anxiety brews in you whenever you walk into the kitchen, the living room, go to feed and snuggle Pickle. It’s fucking miserable in here, and as difficult as it was for you to admit, it’s all your fault.

It’s almost finals week, and you’re nowhere near prepared. You can’t focus on anything except the treacherous silence of your space. It’s almost like Ellie’s already gone.

You should be anticipating her departure, antsy to have your space to yourself again, but your chest aches. This past month was anything but smooth, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. For some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to live your main character moment, even if it was just for a few hours.

Ellie, as much as you hate to admit it, deserves better. Just like how you deserve to spend your life alone, trapped and secluded with your own thoughts. She should want better for herself; Nothing is worse than being in your presence; Maybe that’s why you have no one.

You desperately want to do better for yourself, but you’re tired. Your mother would be so disappointed in you. You retire from wallowing and climb under the covers, Pickle clutched tightly to your chest. You hope she doesn’t mind the tears from your tee.

The portfolio is finished. Ellie can’t stop staring at the booklet enclosed in leather on her desk.

The online submission process was infuriating, mainly due to her laptop dying during the portfolio render, but it’s done. Her ticket into a life-changing position is no longer hers to judge; It can only go up from here.

All she needs is that phone call from the recruiting manager and it’s over. She’ll be in the city in no time. She’s excited and jittery; Every buzz from her phone is met with clenched hands and a sweaty forehead. Her disappointment heals when she sees her father’s classic thumbs up emojis surrounded by black and red hearts; Even from miles away, he knows when she needs support.

Ellie lays her forehead on the leather, sighing in relief for what seems like the billionth time. It’s a surreal feeling, relishing in accomplishments. She's never done it, mainly because her mother never wanted to acknowledge happenings she wasn’t the center of. Hearing congratulations is still a mindfuck years later.

… Your photos looked stunning. You’re made for this, even if you don’t believe it.

Ellie will never admit how much energy she put into editing those pictures, specifically the ones you’re in. She spent hours recoloring, scaling, sharpening those photos, and they turned out incredible. Probably some

of the best shots she’s ever taken, and you’re in the center. And your eyes… There’s so much light in those hazel specks.

Another mindfuck.

Whenever Ellie comes home, she checks the small space between the floor and door of your bedroom to see if you’re awake. If you’re alive. The relief she feels when she sees a lamp light or shadow eases the tension in her shoulders.

She never knocks, though. Never.

So why are you?

Ellie’s back instantly straightens at the soft pats on her door, heart pounding in her ears. You never knock.

She’s embarrassed at how fast she stands, chair nearly falling over as she flies to pull her door open.

She’s met with you; She hopes you can’t hear the shatters from her chest at the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your hair is matted and the brunette river in your eyes are surrounded by redness

“Sorry, I—“ Your voice cracks like you haven’t spoken in ages, “She was lying there and I felt bad. She missed you, I think.” She’s never heard you sound so tedious. You’re always the loudest, goofiest person in the room. Ellie’s brows furrow before following your line of vision. Pickle’s sleep in front of her door, curled like a cinnamon roll. Ellie sighs as picks her up as fluidly

as she can, trying her best not to wake her.

“You’re gonna have to take her when you leave.”

Devastation sets in your tone as you stare at the little fur ball, “Why?” She asks.

“My dad’s allergic.” You whisper.

Ellie peers down when Pickle stirs, “Is… is he visiting?” She asks, just as quietly.

Your head shakes, “I’m going home.”

Ellie does an impeccable job of hiding her shock. So many questions race in her mind: going home? Where’s home for you? Is it permanent? Are you moving out? When? Are you and your dad close?

You’re turning away back into your room, but Ellie blurts out before you can shut the door. “I finished my portfolio! It’s… it’s done. I turned it in.”

You turn, and your eyes are watery. Your smile is tiny, but genuine. “Congratulations,” you’re so quiet and your voice shakes. Ellie’s mind whirls, “They’re gonna love it.” You take one last look at Pickle, and your bottom lip wobbles. You shut and lock the door before Ellie can say thank you for helping me.

Ellie’s eyes lock onto the floor, watching your lamp turn off, ears honing in on the shuffling of blankets. She swiftly scurries inside her space when she hears crying.

Her chest concaves at the sobs echoing through the dark, silent halls. Through the thin wall as she sets the kitty on her favorite pillow to sleep on. She paces around her room and yanks at her pinky. How she wishes to be a fly on the wall; She wants to knock on your door so badly, but she doesn’t know what to say. How to comfort. She's always relied on her father for that.

So, she just listens with regret and makes her final decision.

If you move from this counter, you’ll faceplant into hardwood. You don’t like the blaringly loud song coming from above, so you down another seltzer. It’s distracting enough.

You feel yourself leaning forward, so you force yourself back up, practically flung over the counter. You’re never drinking again, you promise yourself. How many times has that one been broken? You don’t remember. You miss Ellie.

You’re going to fall again, but this time, you’re supported. And not by the counter. You instantly relax at the familiar scent.

Abby’s mumbling something about something, but it sounds like gibberish. You throw your arms around her neck, inhaling deeply; You miss Ellie terribly.

We gotta get you outta here. You frown; You don’t want to leave! The party just started!

Her strong arms wrap around your waist to maneuver you. You’re not sure where she's taking you, but you don’t fight. You simply allow her to snatch your heels off and carry you into the piercing-sharp cold. Just allow her to drag you to safety. You wish it was Ellie.

The world around you moves in a blur; The pace is making you dizzy. You don’t want to vomit in Abby’s car. When did she get a car?

“Abby…”

“Yeah, hun? You good?” She sounds so far away. Your mumbles are incoherent. She's so confused, so she asks you to repeat it.

You face her from the passenger seat with a sultry grin. You miss Ellie, “I missed you.” Your words are garbled and your hands are as loose as your tongue, shakily landing on her muscular thigh, massaging the skin.

Abby tenses with a sigh, planting a gentle hand on your traveling one. Her grip tightens when you try to move. “Did you really?”

That's your green light. Your smile grows as you clumsily unbuckle your seatbelt, “Stop… stop the car.”

Abby’s foot plants on the break, and you jerk forward. Like the night you found Pickle. Like when Ellie…

“What’s the matter?”

I miss my roommate. “I’m horny.”

Your friend scoffs and shakes her head. Either you’re too drunk or she’s disappointed… Not the reaction you were seeking. Your smile tries to fade, but you force the corners of your mouth back up.

“No, you’re not.” She snaps, and it takes you a second to catch it. Abby’s upset again. What the fuck did you do this time? Your facade finally falters. Now you’re irritated.

“How’re y… how’re you gonna tell me what the fuck I am?” You sound like a fucking idiot, but your rage ignites your slurs, “If you don’t want me, why’re you here!”

“Because you fucking called and I’m your friend! I didn’t wanna leave you by yours— “

“You should’ve!” Your shriek is piercing; You’re shocked the windows didn’t shatter and slice you both.

“That’s how you fucking feel? Really?”

You try to swallow tears, but they flow. The words you want to say are on the tip of your tongue; Thank you for coming to get me. I’m sorry for being awful. Don’t leave me by myself.

But none of them escaped. They sit and rot in your throat. You’ve never seen Abby so…

And she doesn’t let up, “Now you wanna cry? Are you serious?” There’s fire in her eyes; It burns in a way you’re not used to, especially not her, “This victim shit is getting very old— “

“I don’t care!”

“I don’t fucking care, either! If you wanna keep getting used like a piece of meat by random bitches, then do that! Leave me the fuck out of it!” Abby slams her hand down on the armrest, and the car doors unlock, “Matter of fact, get the fuck out!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck YOU! Get out! Get the fuck out!”

Curses and heated exclamations leave the two of you until you wobbly exit the vehicle, slamming the door as hard as your brain would allow. The wind blows like tacks, stabbing through the skin of your bare arms and chest. Abby zooms off, and you scream.

You dig in your pocket for your phone, ineptly dialing Ellie’s number. It’s fucking one in the morning

“… Hello?” She was asleep. Your heart eases at the steadiness of her tone.

You’re shivering, “… E—Ellie?”

“Hm?”

“I’m… I’m really cold and I don’t,” sob, “I dunno where I am— “

“What do you mean?” She asks abruptly, alert. Your heart flutters.

You whimper, “I’m lost, I don’t… I’m a bad person— “

“Send me your location. Where’re your keys?”

“I— I don’t remember— “

“Are you drunk right now?”

“Yes,” You mumble meekly. This is so fucking embarrassing.

Ellie sighs heavily, “Just… Is there somewhere you can wait until I get there?”

You search through tears, finding mostly dark retail stores and restaurants across the street… Except Jack in the Box! The munchies hotspot never fails you.

“There’s a Jack in the Crack over there.” You point like she can see you. She snickers softly.

“Go, then. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Wait! Don’t… don’t hang up, please, I’m scared— “

“I wasn’t going to.”

You closely listen to the shuffling on the other line as you wobbly trek across the street. You sharply inhale at every slip and stumble on your journey, almost sobbing through every confirmation to Ellie’s small are you okay?

You finally make it inside and thank God that it’s warm. You take a seat and sigh at the familiar jingle of keys.

“You in there?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m coming, send me where you are.”

“K.”

It takes you longer than it should’ve to get her the location thanks to the Casa in your system, but she’s on the way… You really want curly fries. Fuck.

You hate how your thoughts wander, self-loathing at the forefront of your lobe. You take after your father more than you thought: a filthy, lying train wreck. You’ve ruined every glimmer of hope, of positive influence around you, and you’re forced to bathe in the treachery you’ve created all over again.

“Hey.”

You leap out of your seat at Ellie’s raspy tone, seeing your hoodie draped over her forearm and keys dangling in her hand. Your tummy growls when you wave. Ellie’s gaze softens. “Hungry?” She hands you the hoodie for you to throw on. You nod.

“What do you wanna eat?”

“… Fries,” you croak, “Curly, please.”

Ellie nods and waddles to the service counter. You watch her backside under her puffer as she pays and collects a small baggie and water before nodding towards the car. You follow close behind her in silence, munching on your snack.

The ride back home is silent, but for once, the air isn’t deadly. You’re eased back from your breakdown, and it’s definitely not due to the forest in your roommate’s vision.

You enter your warm apartment and get greeted with soft purrs, Kit-Kat skipping over to rub against your leg. It’s almost enough to make you break down all over again; You can’t believe you have to say goodbye to her next week.

You kick your sneakers off and squat down to her level, “I love you so much, baby girl. Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper and pet her head, all the way down to her tail. She meows like she loves you. Ellie shuts the door and watches you silently. You turn to face her. For the first time, she doesn't fidget at your inspection.

Her eyes are much glossier and she’s picking at the skin on her pinky. She wants to say something.

“You okay?” You murmur, and Ellie nods. You don’t believe her. Her eyes are downcast. Why does she look so nervous?

The silence is killing you, so you speak.

“Ellie, I’m… I’m sorry for everything,” You stand and ramble. “I’m the worst roommate imaginable and I-I’m terrible and impulsive and I fucking suck, but I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”

I also kinda like you.

Not even your word vomit lets that slip. So, you apologize, sloppily and snot-filled. Tears drip down your face in waterfalls, “I’m— I don't wanna go... and I don’t want you to go…”

Ellie’s timid facade breaks, only slightly, eyes closing gently as she listens. “I know I don’t deserve t-to ask that and it’s not… I wasn’t apart of your plan— “

“You’re drunk.”

You’re plummeting into the void all over again, succumbing to a familiar, oddly comforting darkness.

“H-Huh?”

Ellie’s as firm as a tree, unmoving. Strong. Still. You’re transported back to your first conversation and how intimidated she made you feel. “You’re drunk… and I leave in the morning. I got the job.”

Drowning. That’s what this feels like. Strangely proud. Oddly suffocating. You’re underwater, but refuse to resurface. “I-In the morning?”

Her head jerks. “I, uh. I got rent covered. Sorry for the late notice.” She shoves her hands in her pocket. You shake your head, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s okay.” You whisper. “Where’re you gonna go?”

“My dad’s. He’s a few hours out. The truck comes tomorrow.”

Your head bobs in acknowledgement, “H-How was the stats final?” She pauses; Her eyes sadden, tilting like an unwatered rose. “You’ll do fine.” She whispers.

“Promise to take care of my daughter?” You blurt between sniffles, already moving down the hall, ignoring the loud shattering in your heart when you peep all her boxes in the now vacant room beside yours.

Ellie mumbles your name but you’re sick of ugly crying in front of people. “Good luck with everything.” You mutter with hot feet.

And with the last click of your bedroom lock, you shut out the vine who entangled your heart for the last time. You give into the feelings of loss, the emotions that come with failure, and release them into your hands.

What could’ve been, your brain hollers while your heart wails. What could’ve been if you weren’t you.

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re in pain. Physically, mentally; You're hurting. The intensity of it somehow gets worse at the sound of Ellie dragging boxes out of her — the room.

You just cry. There’s nothing to do but cry. Your phone has been ringing all morning, but you don’t have strength to reach for it. You relish in the deserving pain of your hangover. Tequila hasn’t done shit for you.

Hours pass, and your home is silent. Ellie’s gone. Pickle’s gone. Amaya’s gone. Abby’s gone. Your mother’s gone. You take their departures as signs. It’s probably time for you to go, too.

Your shower is incredibly long. You wash and wash and re-wash, wanting the feelings of cleanliness to cascade down your skin, but it never comes. You tearfully accept your lecherous nature and every vile entity attached to it. You’re a vessel for heartbreak and villainy. Forever your worst enemy. You look in the mirror for the first time in days. Just for a second. You can’t stand to see yourself for longer than that, your naked form a reminder of every violation you’ve had to endure since you were fifteen.

Ellie isn't thinking twice about you, and yet, she terrorizes your mind, trying to convince yourself that your time together wasn’t all bad. You’ll never forget the color she brought to you. Her seed is forever planted and growing in your heart, her roots forcing their way into your system, intertwining with your rough, cracked bones, enclosing around your lungs with each breath.

Too bad you impacted her in the worst way. You couldn’t even manage to give her a sober apology before she left. It’s hard to accept the fact that you’ll never see her again, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

Once again, you’re too late.

The short lap around your living room crushes your spirit. Somehow, all of your memories are shrouded in emptiness. All the proof of Ellie’s residency is gone… Except the indent of her body on the couch. She always loved sleeping there.

One last heavy exhale. That’s all you can manage before you grab your coat and beanie and exit, locking the door behind you. You keep your head down on the way to the parking garage, hopping into the driver’s seat. The ride to the academic advisory office is silent and swift; It matches the finality of your meeting.

Tears glaze your eyes when you ask your counselor, “What’s… What’s the first step of withdrawing? Like, from school.”

CHRISTMAS EVE

Your fork picks at the pasta noodles on your barely touched plate. The wine is delicious.

“Honey, are you…” Your dad says softly before sighing, “How’s the meal?” You blink up at him, focusing on the crinkles in his eyes. He seems youthful somehow. Healing looks good on him.

You gulp down more maroon, “… It’s great. Thank you.” You mutter. You’re not used to talking to him; You’re glad the feelings are mutual. He only nods, head downcast onto his plate. At least he’s eaten.

He sets his fork down on his plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “I hope you like your gift.” He says before standing to place the dish in the sink.

A dark smile spreads behind your glass.

“Never thought you’d buy me anything.” You snicker sarcastically. “Don’t start.” His voice slices through the kitchen. You hold back your flinch. You’re not ten anymore.

You shrug, shoulders heavy, “Just saying.” A glass shatters in the sink, and he curses and storms off, the bedroom door nearly swinging off the hinges with a slam. Your smile grows at the booming echo. Like father, like daughter you suppose.

DECEMBER TWENTY-SEVENTH

“Are you ready, kiddo?”

Ellie’s heart is pounding through her chest as she stares out the window. She can’t believe her father hasn’t commented on the bursting organ. “No.” She whispers, adjusting the camera strapped around her neck. She's fighting not to bite her nails; Her dad hates that.

He chuckles softly, “Yes, you are.”

No, she’s not.

The photography studio is fucking huge and surrounded by tall windows that display suited individuals laughing, conversing, perfecting their lenses. She can see the bright specks of neon color on the white floors, white walls, white couches. It’s so much brighter than she ever imagined.

The colors are reminiscent of you. Vivid. Captivating. Beaming like your smile. There are flashes coming from all directions inside the studio and it’s making her shake in the passenger seat. A strong hand plants on her blazer, giving an encouraging squeeze. “Look at me.”

Ellie’s head turns, eyes locking with her dad’s.

“I love you. You got this.” He says with confidence. Ellie nods in agreement, but he doesn’t accept it. “Say it.”

“I got this.” Not as confident. A lot quieter, but getting there.

“Eh?” Her dad leans in closer, ear pointed at her. She giggles and repeats herself. A little louder. He decides that it’s good enough, pulling her close over the center console. Ellie inhales as deeply as she can, right in the crook of his neck. He plants one last kiss on her cheek before releasing her. She grabs her bag from the floor and pushes the door open, looking over her shoulder one last time. “I love you.” She whispers. He bops her nose with the most delicate grin. Pride is radiating off him, and it warms her from the cold outside.

Ellie departs with one last wave, shutting the door and skipping onto the sidewalk, walking right up to the front door of the studio. A final peek at her dad; He sends her two thumbs up. She smiles.

Breathe in, one… two… three…

When the door pushes open, she's greeted with wide grins and warm hugs. It feels like home already.

Finally... Finally.

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queer-n-here · 2 months

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mayhaps...... some corruption, breeding, mating press, cruel levels of edging and some dubcon if ok? with akutagawa and atsushi ♡ or poe and dazai.

second offhand idea would be using a controlled vibrator on them in public uwu

(with poe itd be more so him becoming our little fleshlight, to make it different from last ask with poe ;3) TLDR; I WANT THAT MAN IMPREGNATED!!!also remember to take breaks and not overwork yourself!!

~🕸

Aww thanks! Is 🕸️ the emoji you chose to be? 'Cause it's giving spiderman. Also oh my god?? You totally read my mind???

So here you go, Atsushi and Akutagawa! I changed the contents a lil bit, but I hope you like it!

Contents: Breeding, corrupting and overstimming Atsushi in front of a mirror. Putting a vibrator up Akutagawa's ass in public.

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, nipple play (Atsushi), breeding kink (Atsushi), corruption kink (?) (Atsushi), mirror sex (Atsushi), praise kink (Atsushi), dubcon, overstimming (Atsushi), sex toys (Akutagwa), public (Akutagwa), punishment (Akutagwa).

Nakajima Atsushi

Oh the thought of corrupting this man has me in a trap hold.

Holding him by the cheek as you fuck him in front of a mirror, making him watch every single movement of your cock as it slides in and out of his slutty hole.

Let him try to struggle to pull his face away from your grasp, but you both know that it's no use; if you want him to watch you fuck him then he will.

Make him focus on that bulge that appears and disappears in his stomach every time you thrust, the sound of skin slapping skin almost drowned in the lewd noises pouring from his mouth.

Atsushi would do anything you ask him to, so sit back and tell him to ride you, then watch as he flushes so beautifully you almost lose control and fuck him into oblivion yourself.

And then, as he tries to move his hips in a slow rhythm on your lap, tease and bite his nipples.

Hear him complaining about how he wasn't good enough yet at this, and make him beg for you to fuck him before you do, his tight ass clenching around you at the pleasure.

Tell him you're gonna impregnate him and make him birth your children. It'll make him arch his back like a little slut and clutch at your arms desperately, his brain all fogged and cloudy from the feeling of your cock in him.

Make him cum over and over and over again, only stopping to push him down on his back to put him in a mating press. He'll cry and scream, begging you to stop, to let him take a break.

But don't listen to him. Keep overstimulating his little cock and hole both, stroking in rhythm to each thrust that hits his sweet spots. Wipe away those pretty tears of his even as more drip down from his eyes onto his red cheeks.

Once you're done, take him to the bathroom and clean him up, whispering in his ear about how good he is for you, and how pretty he looks all fucked out, then watch as he gets hard again.

But don't indulge in him all over again just yet, make him beg and try to convince you that he NEEDS you to fuck him, to put your cock inside him and bully all those pleasing spots inside him with your tip.

And when you do decide to listen (because he's YOUR pretty baby after all, you have to take care of him) make sure you have him screaming and writing beneath you again.

Ryunoske Akutagawa

I can imagine Akutagawa being so bratty you have no other choice but to put a little toy in him on your next date.

He'd try to act like it didn't bother him, that there was no way this would even be a punishment that bad, but deep down he'd know what grave he'd dug for himself when he sits down, feeling the toy nudge ever so slightly against his walls.

So don't go easy on Akutagawa, switch the toy only on the low mode in the beginning, and then watch as your sensitive boyfriend tries to muffle his moans with his sleeve, disguise them as coughs and even use fractions of Rashoumoun to stop them from spilling.

But you wouldn't let him off that easily, would you? Sneakily use your own ability to pry Rashoumoun away as you switch the toy to the medium level, making Akutagawa gasp and shudder.

Watch as some people turn their heads to give him weird looks as you guide him to walk through a crowd on your arm, smirking when their gazes make him whine into the sleeve of your jacket.

Turn it up to high every time Akutagawa tries to open his mouth to speak. He tries to suggest sitting down somewhere? Interrupt him with five continuous seconds of the high level that has his legs trembling so bad he needs to clutch you to stand.

Then raise your eyebrows innocently as he pants and huffs, tears streaming down his face at the situation, and ask him what he was saying.

When Akutagawa tries to talk again, repeat your teasing, till he's begging you through whimpers hidden in his sleeve to please, please, PLEASE, just be nice to him, he swear he won't ever be bratty again.

So take him to a nice restaurant, and make him order for you two while you constantly turn the toy a notch higher, making him squirm and shoot you pleading glances with his blurred up eyes.

When the waiter asks if Akutagwa's feeling okay, he has no other option but to jump at the chance, saying that he feels a bit 'under the weather' before dashing away to the bathroom to jerk off.

Follow him to the bathroom, and put your cock in him right next to the toy before turning it to the highest setting.

Akutagwa'll never be bratty again (or so he swears).

#dom male reader #dom reader #top male reader #sub bsd x you #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #sub bsd #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub akutagawa x you #sub akutagawa #sub atsushi x you #sub atsushi

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i-turned-into-the-stone · 1 month

Note

would love to see a fic with saerom :) her abs are just heavenly 😍

🍄 anon

Smut Dump 2: Saerom

A/N: Hello there, mushroom anon! Sorry that I took so long to get to your request. I don't know whether you're still here or not but if you are, I hope you like it. Since I don't know what kind of smut you want, I went with the regular one judging from that wholesome emoji, lol. No tags because it's just the basic stuff.

The club's pulsing beats reverberate through your body as you nurse a drink, scanning the crowd. Your eyes lock onto a vision of perfection; Lee Saerom, the famous K-pop idol, her toned abs peeking through a blue top. She moves with feline grace, swaying her wide hips full of allure.

As if sensing your stare, Saerom turns and your eyes meet. A wicked smile plays on her full lips as she saunters over. "Well, hey there, handsome. Enjoying the view?" Her voice is low and sultry.

You gulp, unable to tear your gaze from the alluring curves of her body. "I… You're stunning." That's all that manages to come out of your gaping mouth.

Saerom chuckles. "I know." She leans in close, her breath hot on your ear. "Why don't you buy me a drink and we can get to know each other better?"

Your mouth goes dry as she presses her lithe form against you. The scent of her perfume - jasmine and melon - overwhelms your senses. You nod dumbly.

Smiling, Saerom orders two shots of liquor. She licks her pink lips slowly before downing the first one. You watch, transfixed, as her slender throat works with each swallow.

"Your turn," she challenges, pushing the other shot towards you.

You drain it, the fiery liquid burning your throat. Before you can react, Saerom grabs your collar and crushes her mouth to yours. Her tongue slips past your lips, exploring hungrily as she grinds her pelvis against your growing erection.

Breaking the scorching kiss, she murmurs, "Let's take this somewhere more private."

You can only nod as she takes your hand and leads you through the crowd to the VIP lounge. The heavy bass thrums through the plush couches as Saerom pushes you down onto one.

Her eyes smolder with lust as she straddles your lap, tantalizingly rolling her hourglass hips. "You've been a good boy… And I love a good boy.”

Saerom's hands roam over your solid chest as she claims your lips in another wild sloppy kiss. Her tongue dances, both of you moaning into each other's mouths. The heady scent of her arousal fills the air, making your cock throb painfully in your pants.

Breaking the kiss with a wicked grin, your shirt is gone in one pull. Saerom slides off your lap and onto her knees between your spread thighs. Her nimble fingers make quick work of your belt and zipper, freeing your rigid cock. She licks her lips slowly as she wraps her hand around the thick shaft.

"Fuck, you're big.” She gives you a few firm strokes. You groan at her touch, your hips bucking involuntarily. Saerom tutts and pins you down with one hand on your stomach while the other continues pumping your cock.

"Be a good boy and hold still," she reprimands. "I want to taste every inch of this delicious cock."

Her pouty lips part and she swirls her tongue around the swollen head, lapping up the beads of pre-cum. You fist the couch, fighting not to thrust into her warm mouth as she slowly takes you deeper.

Saerom hollows her cheeks, sucking hard as she bobs up and down your shaft.

"Oh fuck… Saerom..." you groan, your head falling back.

She hums in approval, sending delicious vibrations along your length. Her free hand fondles your balls, gently massaging them. You're in ecstasy, drowning in the incredible sensations of her mouth and hands.

All too soon, you feel that telltale tightening in your loins. "Saerom… I'm gonna… Oh fuck!”

Rather than pull away, she only increases her suction, cheeks hollowing obscenely. With a strangled cry, you explode, your release pulsing down her eager throat. Saerom swallows every drop, licking you clean with broad strokes of her tongue.

"Delicious," she commends, rising to her feet and straddling you once more. "But I'm just getting started with you."

Saerom rises from your lap, her toned abs rippling with each suggestive movement. She slowly peels off her fuzzy top, revealing her pert breasts spilling over a lacy black bra. Your cock twitches, already stirring back to life at the lewd sight.

"I guess you like what you see?" she teases, running her hands over the ridges of her chiseled abdomen.

"God yes..." you rasp, drinking in every inch of her flawless body.

Smirking, Saerom turns around, giving you an unobstructed view of her back muscles flexing. She bends over slowly, the curves of her ass straining against the tight denim of her jeans. You can see the outline of her pussy through the fabric and you swallow a big chunk.

Saerom's glances over her shoulder. Her dark eyes sparkle with mischief, and the corners of her lips curl into a proud smile. "I've been working extra hard on my body," she says, her voice husky with desire. "You know me so you must know how much I love showing them off."

She arches her back, accentuating the defined ridges of her abdomen. The dim lighting casts sensual shadows on her taut muscles, drawing your gaze to them irresistibly.

"Touch them," she commands, her voice husky and filled with need. "Run your hands all over me."

You don't need any further urging. Your fingers tremble as you reach out and trace the grooves of her heavenly abs. The firm muscles lie beneath her silky skin, inviting your touch. As your palms roam freely over her toned torso, a low moan escapes from Saerom's lips.

"That's it, baby," she breathes, her voice a seductive whisper. "Worship my body with those greedy hands."

The scent of her arousal grows even stronger, mingling with the air. You notice a damp patch spreading on the crotch of her jeans, evidence of her dripping pussy. Unable to resist, you slip one hand lower, cupping her molten heat through the jeans.

Saerom gasps, pushing her ass back against your palm, shamelessly grinding against you. "Fuck… I'm so wet for you,", her voice filled with need. "Get these jeans off me and put that mouth to work."

A low growl escapes your throat as you quickly unfasten Saerom's jeans and peel them down her toned thighs. To your delight, she's not wearing any panties, her glistening pussy bare before you. Its flushed and slick folds beg to be devoured.

Unable to resist any longer, you bury your face between her legs from behind, inhaling the intoxicating musky aroma. Saerom cries out as your tongue licks over her dripping slit in one long, broad stroke.

"Oh fuck yes!" she exclaims, her voice filled with pleasure. "Eat me out, you filthy boy."

You eagerly obey, your tongue lapping and sucking at her sensitive flesh with wanton abandon. Saerom's thighs quiver as you swirl your tongue around her clit, lavishing it with kitten licks before plunging back into her heating cunt.

"Oh God, hng~ You were made to please me with that mouth," she pants, grinding her crotch against your lips and chin.

Your hands roam freely over the heaving of her belly, feeling the muscles clench with each brush of your tongue. Saerom's back arches sharply as you seal your lips around her throbbing pearl, sucking hard.

"Yes! Just like that! Don't stop… I'm so close," she moans, her voice filled with urgency.

Her throaty moans and the heady tang of her nectar spur you on. You slip two fingers knuckle-deep into her sopping canal, curling them against her spongy front walls, making Saerom's velvet walls flutter around your invading digits as you work that sweet spot.

"Oh god! Oh fuck! I'm… I'm coming!" she wails, her whole body convulsing.

A rush of her tangy essence floods your tongue as Saerom's orgasm crashes over her in shattering waves. You eagerly slurp it up, savoring her exquisite flavor and reveling in her broken whimpers of bliss.

Finally, her tremors subside, and she collapses bonelessly onto the couch, her chest heaving. Saerom looks utterly debauched - sweat-slicked skin, tousled hair, and eyes glazed with satiated lust.

"Get over here and let me taste myself on you," she orders, beckoning you with one finger.

You can hardly believe your luck as you crawl over to where Saerom lies sprawled, her eyes heavy-lidded with thirst. Her toned abs rise and fall with each ragged breath, glistening with a sheen of sweat. The scent of her sex hangs thick in the air.

Without preamble, Saerom grabs a fistful of your hair and crushes your mouths together in a bruising kiss. Her tongue thrusts past your lips, hungrily seeking the taste of her own climax. She moans lightly, tasting the remnants of her juice.

Breaking the kiss with a filthy groan, Saerom pushes you onto your back and straddles your hips. Her smoldering gaze rakes over your body as she grinds her dripping core against your rigid length.

"You've been such a goodboy, pleasuring me with that wicked tongue," her voice filled with desire. She trails her nails over your chest, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. "I think you deserve a reward."

With a sweet smile, Saerom rises up on her knees and holds your throbbing cock in her small hand. She gives it a few steady strokes, spreading the beads of pre-cum over the swollen head. Then, without hesitation, she sinks down on your shaft in one smooth motion, impaling herself.

Both of you cry out at the scorching heat of her tight depths enveloping you completely. The fullness Saerom experiences makes her tremble. Her inner walls wrench and pulse around your thickness as she slowly begins to ride you. Her toned thighs tense with each roll of her hips.

"Fuck… You feel so good stretching me open! Ahh, so big!" she moans, increasing her pace.

You groan incoherently, overwhelmed by the exquisite sensations of her tight, molten sheath. Your hands find purchase on her waists, fingers digging into her flesh as she bounces on you hard. The lewd sounds of flesh smacking together blend with your ragged pants and moans.

Saerom's breasts bounce enticingly with each downward plunge, straining against the lacy confines of her bra. Unable to resist, you reach up and cup the generous mounds, rolling the stiff peaks between your fingers.

"Yes! Ohh~ Play with my tits while I fuck you stupid," she growls, throwing her head back in ecstasy.

You obey with relish, squeezing and kneading these firm globes as Saerom's movements become more frantic. Her inner walls convulse and milk your cock, driving you rapidly towards the edge.

"I'm gonna come again," she whimpers, increasing the frenzied grind of her hips. "Fill me up, baby… I want to feel your hot load painting my womb."

With a guttural roar, you obey, your own climax crashing over you. Thick ropes of your cum flood Saerom's spasming channel as she screams through her own shattering peak. She slams down hard, grinding her pelvis in tight circles to milk every drop from you.

Finally, utterly spent, Saerom collapses forward onto your sweat-slicked chest. You both lay there for long moments, hearts pounding and lungs heaving as you bask in the afterglow.

"Mmm...that was incredible," sounding satisfied, nuzzling against your neck.

You can only hum in agreement, still dazed from the mind-blowing pleasure. Still cannot entirely believe what just happened. Saerom chuckles hoarsely and presses a lingering kiss to your lips.

"This was just the start, baby. I have so many more delicious plans for you…"

Saerom rolls off you with a naughty grin, her toned body glistening with a sheen of sweat. She crawls onto all fours on the fancy couch, presenting her round ass and dripping pussy to you in an utterly shameless display.

"I'm not done with you yet," she states over her shoulder, arching her back to accentuate the delicious curve of her spine. "Get over here and fuck me like the little slut I am."

No questions are asked - none needed, you move behind her and grasp her hips in a bruising grip. Saerom gasps as you grind your still-rigid cock against her sticky slick folds, coating yourself in her juice. Then, with one decisive thrust, you bury yourself to the hilt in her wringing pussy.

"Oh fuck yes!" she cries out, pushing her ass back to meet your thrust. "Pound me hard, baby...I want to feel it for days."

You are all too happy to oblige, slamming into her over and over. Saerom's tight yet shifty tube quivers around your pistoning cock. The harsh sounds of flesh smacking together mingle with her unrestrained moans and whimpers.

"Harder! Fuck me harder!" she demands breathlessly.

Increase the brutal pace, feeling her firm ass jiggle with the force of your thrusts. Saerom throws her head back in rapture, dark hair spilling down her arched spine. Her sweaty-toned back flexes and swells, every muscle standing out in sharp erotic relief.

"Oh god… I'm getting so damn close… Don't stop!" Her ragged cries urge you on.

You reach around to roughly palm her breasts, rolling her nipples between your fingers, causing Saerom's inner walls to squeeze tight around your cock.

Huffing, you bury your cock completely inside her depth and unleash your load in thick, bursting spurts all the while Saerom's soul-shattering climax crashes over her in wrecking tides, her whole body writhing.

"Yes! Fuck, fuck, fuck— Fill me up!" she wails, grinding back to take you deeper.

You collapse in a sweaty, panting heap, utterly spent. The idol’s pussy continues to wring around your over-sensitized shaft, coaxing out the last feeble twitches.

Then you slip free with a low squelch, your combined juices trickling down her thighs. Saerom rolls onto her back with a satisfied groan, not bothering to cover her glistening wet pussy.

"Mmm… I'm going to be feeling that pounding for weeks," she says, lazily trailing her fingers through the mess on her cunt.

You just stay quiet, watching what she's doing. Saerom shoots you a sly smile, then slowly brings her slick fingers to her lips and licks them clean with a shameless look on her face. Slowly pushing herself up, she suddenly shoves you onto your back, climbing your hips once more. Your dick twitches, still sensitive from your previous wild escapades.

"Looks like someone needs a little help getting hard again," wrapping her slippery hand around your half-erect cock.

You hiss as she starts jerking you off, her skilled fingers working your shaft with practiced ease. Saerom leans down to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and chest. Her free hand roams freely, her nails raking over your nipples.

"That's it, baby, get nice and hard for me," she breathes against your skin.

True to her skills, you soon find yourself fully erect once more, throbbing and aching for release. Saerom smirks triumphantly and shifts her position, straddling your thighs with her back to you. She reaches behind to grasp your rigid cock, guiding it to nestle in the cleft of her firm ass. She begins to slide her hips in a slow torturous grind.

Your cock slid through her folds with each roll of her hips. Saerom's toned stomach grazes mere inches from your straining cock as she works herself into a frenzy. Her heavy-lidded gaze burns into yours, daring you to join her in utter debauchery.

Grasp her hips in a desperate grip and begin thrusting upwards, matching her movements. Saerom moans out in blissful rapture, increasing the frantic pace as the head of your cock slides through her needy cleft.

"Yes! Yes! Oh fuck yes!" she keens, grinding down hard.

Your discharge rapidly builds, a white-hot coil of tension in your loins. Saerom seems to sense it, her movements becoming more erratic. She palms her breasts roughly, pinching the sensitive nipples as her inner muscles clench.

"Do it! Cover me in your cum!" she demands. "Mark me as your slutty fucktoy!"

You obey, grunting, your cock shooting thick ropes of cum. Saerom throws her head back with a moan as the first few spurts paint her stomach. She continues working her hips, draining every drop from you until her tummy is utterly drenched.

"Look at this mess you made.” She rubs her dainty fingers through the pearly streaks coating her stomach. "I'm absolutely filthy."

Maintaining eye contact, Saerom brings her soiled digits to her lips and slowly licks them clean, moaning at the taste. Your spent cock twitches feebly at the sensual display as she savors every drop.

"Mmm... I think I need a shower when I get back to get nice and clean," she mutters, shooting you a heated look. "Care to join me and get dirty all over again?"

#kpop smut #saerom #saerom smut #smut dump #male reader

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