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#he’s so cruel but when you’re his favorite?
sailorholly · 21 hours
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Between Us Pt. 7
Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.
Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader
Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst. Pregnancy. A tiny bit of smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.
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Part Six
Spencer ended things with Ashley. It was a huge fight. She didn’t want him to leave her. She knew it had something to do with you. So she resented you. She would bring the greasiest pizza for lunch for the whole team after you mentioned the smell made you sick.
She would comment about how much weight you were gaining. She made you feel so insecure, it was becoming a problem. Your face was swollen today, you couldn’t do anything with your hair, and you felt too nauseous to do your makeup this morning. You walked in to work, hoping Ashley wouldn’t be there.
“You look awful. Pregnancy doesn’t suit you.” She says the moment she sees you. Your hormones have been all over the place lately. Your first instinct was to grab her by the throat, but then you thought about her words, and all her petty behavior towards you. Tears filled your eyes, streaking down your cheeks.
“Why do you think it’s okay to talk to someone the way you talk to me? I would never say anything like that to you. What’s your problem with me anyways? You have hated me since the day you started here. I haven’t done anything to you.”
The tears keep falling, you can’t help it. She was cruel. “It’s all about you, isn’t it? Reid wouldn’t even look at me because of you. You had him wrapped around your finger, then you blew it! I finally had my chance, but he was still obsessed with you! He wouldn’t sleep with me because of you. He barely kissed me! Then you got pregnant on purpose to trap him.” She walks right up to you, pointing her finger accusing you.
“Ashley, I did not get pregnant on purpose! I had nothing to do with your relationship.” You try to explain, but she interrupts again. “Save it! I don’t believe you. You’ve got him right where you want him now. I just don’t understand why he would want you, when he could have me!” She places her hands on your shoulders, shoving you backwards.
The back of your legs hit a desk. She is still screeching at you when Spencer pulls her away. “Ashley, get off of her! What are you doing? You could hurt her and the baby!” His cheeks go red, dark eyes flashing. You’ve never seen him this angry before. He looks you over, inspecting carefully for any sign of injury. “Are you okay?” You nod, you’re a little shaken up because you didn’t expect her to put her hands on you.
Hotch comes out of his office, his face stern as he calls Ashley to him. Spencer tells him you’re both taking the day off. He agrees, as he shuts the door behind her. Spencer took you to his apartment, where you spent the day watching your favorite movies and cuddling.
You would normally protest the affection, but after the morning you had it was welcome. As the evening approached, Spencer ordered your latest craving, and you watched one of his favorites, some Russian movie with no subtitles. You had watched it three times with him before, so you knew what was going on. You didn’t stop him when he leaned over to whisper the translation in your ear. His hot breath sent goosebumps down your arms.
It was getting late, so you stood up telling Spencer you needed to go home. “You can sleep here. I’ll take the couch.” You think about it, but not for long. You really do want to stay. You were comfy here and it had started storming. Spencer knew you were terrified, that’s probably why he offered. So you accepted, you took a shower while he laid out one of the few t-shirts he owned for you to sleep in.
You tossed and turned, the thunder was so loud it felt like it shook the apartment building. You had tried to sleep, but between the storm and what happened with Ashley, you couldn’t. You were so angry with her for putting her hands on you. She’s lucky you were pregnant and caught off guard. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have a job to go back to tomorrow.
You thought of how Spencer stood up for you. He had never been hotter. This new protective side of him was something else. You feel the familiar ache between your legs. If your hormones weren’t making you cry, they made you horny. You slipped your fingers into your panties, trying to take care of yourself. Three hours could have passed, and you wouldn’t have known. You were getting no where. You were hot, and so desperate for release.
You should have went home, at least you had your vibrator there. You stand in front of Spencer’s sleeping body on the couch, debating on waking him up. You decide to turn around and go back to bed, but he wakes up.
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He sits up, wild eyed and panic lacing his voice. “Um, I -I” You stutter, suddenly feeling ashamed. He stands looking you over for visible injuries. “What is it?” He was concerned and probably scared something was wrong with the baby. “Everything is okay - with the baby.” You finally manage.
Spencer rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Something’s wrong with you then?” You put your hands on your hips, his shirt raising on your thighs. His gaze lingers on the newly exposed skin for longer than they should. “It’s embarrassing.” You confess.
“Y/N, you know you can tell me anything.” He grabs your hand, rubbing soothing circles by your thumb. You let out a deep breath. “I’m so horny, I think I might die if I don’t get off. I tried to do something about it myself, but it’s not enough.”
He looks at you, confused. “What do you want me to - oh!” Realization sinks in. He runs a hand through his messy brown curls. “Are you sure?” He asks so softly, you’re not sure if you really heard it. “Yes, I’ve never been more sure of anything. Spencer, I need you.”
Spencer pulls you to him on the couch, your legs spreading on either side of his sitting form. He presses soft kisses to your lips, but you need more. You deepen the kiss, hands traveling down to lift his shirt. He helps you, tossing it over his head, kissing down your neck. His long fingers trail along your torso, toward your breasts. He takes your nipples between his fingers, pinching lightly.
You moan, loving how sensitive they were because of the pregnancy. It makes everything more intense. Spencer gently moves you off him, to a lying position on the couch. He lifts the t-shirt he let you wear over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. He looks at you with a softness you've never seen before. Suddenly, you feel very self-conscious.
You try to cover yourself. You weren't thinking about how differently you looked now. Your breasts were swollen, your stomach wasn't close to being a baby bump yet, but you were bloated. Spencer had to notice too. What were you thinking? He was only doing this to fulfill some kind of obligation he felt for you. He knocked you up, so he had to help you out. That's how Spencer was, he would always take care of you. But you couldn't take advantage of him like this.
"Is everything okay?" He asks, noticing the sudden change. "I'm not in the mood anymore, but thanks for helping." You force a small smile, but he notices. He was very observant. That's what made him such a good profiler. "You're soaking wet. Why are you trying to stop this?" He runs a finger down the seam of your panties to prove his point, your arousal soaking through the fabric, wetting his finger.
"I just look so differently than the last time we did this. I get it if you're not attracted to me right now. I just don't want you to be doing this out of pity." You gesture to your exposed body. "I think you're even more beautiful than before. Your body is changing to make a comfortable home for our baby. I'm so lucky I get to have you like this."
Spencer takes a nipple between his lips, large hand dipping under the waistband of your panties. He hooks an impossibly long finger inside you, his thumb swirling soft circles against your clit. Any worries you had about him not being attracted to you, fade as he works you with his fingers. You feel the pressure building low in your stomach as his tongue swipes at your nipples. He was always so talented with his mouth. You shatter around his fingers, as he removes his lips from your breasts. "You did so good for me." He praises, kissing your stomach.
You yawn, the force of the orgasm and all the craziness from today finally allowing you to rest. "You need to rest, come on." Spencer helps you off the couch, leading you to his bed. "But what about you?" You ask, motioning toward his erection. "I'm fine, really. Tonight was all about you." You open your mouth to protest, but another yawn slips out. He tucks you under the blankets, kissing your forehead before walking back to his makeshift bed on the couch.
Tags
@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @134340ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lover-of-books-and-tea @maybe-not-this @drewsandsebastianswife @lamentis-10 @lizzyk137 @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @rosylnsworld @amortencjja @ah-blossom @dreamsarebig @khxna @diasnohibng @nommingonfood @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @isakslilsmile @lavvylove @creaming4daddy @justdianaz @aubs444 @im-this-girl @xblueriddlex @spencerreidsgf420 @witchsbitchestime @lovelygirl8 @chonkybonky @prentissesredtanktop @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @ilikw @theoraekenslover
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yandere-kokeshi · 1 day
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Please give us your Gaz headcanons I need that man carnally
— Yandere Headcanons of Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
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Warnings: Yandere behavior, fanon ideas by me, civilian(ish) reader, unhealthy relationship, detailed talks of kidnapping, manipulation, and (slight) smothering affection.
A/N: I went a bit overboard, so please excuse me, LOL 🫶😘
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Kyle is an obsessive man, committing his whole energy and mind to memorizing everything; including the sweet images of you. As sweet as he can be, he’s just as manipulative and gaslighting in a sense of keeping you safe. Supervising over your items, mostly your phone and friends, while securing the many facts you’re only safe with him. 
As much as he hates it, many haven’t stayed with him. He’s loyal– maybe a bit too much. He’s had many heartbreaks because of the strong hearts on his sleeves, forcing him to realize many of his “lovers” were just with him because they needed love, not showing affection to the actual pieces of him. 
It disappoints him. He needs love like everyone else. A certain somebody to help, to shield, to love. Someone he could count on after a hard day of work, and relax in their loving, warm embrace. 
But, you weren’t any of those lying skanks.
No, you weren’t cruel, or tried to take advantage of him — even if you two were still best friends. You’re something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that he’d read late at night during high-school. 
In all, meeting you was the best decision he’d ever make. 
Walking into that coffee shop he regularly visited too, patiently waiting in line and finding his eyes swiftly landing on your form from behind, was the prettiest sight he’s ever seen. Feeling his heart batter so fast for you, equally told him that he’d love you forever. 
He wasn’t sure what was so hypnotizing of you. Maybe the fact you didn’t care what you were wearing, going out in public and wearing your nightwear without a care. Or how your voice was so addicting, like he could listen to it forever; another form of an audiobook, is what he’d say. Or maybe, just maybe, how cute your tongue was when it blepped out like a cat, focusing on whatever you were watching on your phone, waiting to be seen by the barista. 
You were too pretty to be ignored. Forgotten. To be used by another person- and immediately, he knew you were the one for him.
He bit his lip, ignoring the “what ifs” and went for it. His crush on you was far too much more than something simple. It was love at first sight on his part. 
Kyle will start at slow, a hand grasping your shoulder and catching your attention; asking about your order and ending up with your phone number. Gentle flirting is what it is, and it makes you feel a bit lighted. A nice man, a hot one at that, coming at you at this lame coffee shop? What a score.
In all: Kyle goes down the “original” hole of getting to know you. Shows up to your apartment, holding a vase of your favorite flowers and asking you out brightly. But, of course, ignoring the fact that a few nights ago, he was scrolling through his laptop, and was clicking through your network profiles, finding himself adoring what he sees. Eagerly writing down your likes, preferences, dislikes, and best-friends. Even your enemies in thick red writing. 
He goes all out on gaining your attention. Loves taking you out on all types of cliché dates, such as the arcade and late evening dates to a charming restaurant. Or his favorites, an inside-date with popcorn and M&M’s whilst watching a horror movie. Secretly hoping you’d get scared and, just maybe, roll into him for comfort. 
It’s the small things that are first, his eyes following your form everywhere. He’s hoping you feel the same. Hopes that you feel your own heart beat just as fast as his. Hands sweating and all shaking whenever you imagine him. Or the fact you’ll crave him as much as he does. 
And the second you agree to be his – the rightful love of his – is when he really starts to show how much he gives everything his all. The very suggestion of letting you even breathe near anyone or anything that might be of competition.
Within the relationship, it’s completely normal. It all started on a normal pretense, and made you two fall in love so lovingly. He’s so kind and sweet. An ultimate gentleman. Never pressures you to do anything, and loves forehead kisses more than anything. 
Kyle’s type of affection is so loving. He loves any type of excuse to spoil you, especially with his home-cooked food, and loves to be held and be holding you at any time. A hand in your back-pocket is expected, and tries so hard not to pinch or squeeze your globes.
Showers you in compliments galore, even if it’s the smallest things. “So pretty with your hair like that today” “My shirt looks so good on ya’”, often rubbing his face deeper into your neck with his kind words. “So glad you’re mine, love.”
Oh, and, let’s not forget, he’s extremely clingy; emotionally and physically. Sending good morning and good night texts, just loves the idea of you thinking of him as you lay your pretty head on that pillow, as he does the same. 
But, he’s a harasser who sticks by your side. Always wanting to be the one to drive you to work, hands touching yours as the two of you eat breakfast and dinner, even kissing you sloppy when he’s just brushed his teeth for that morning. But can you blame him?
To you, he was an amazing man — your norm boyfriend, turned into fiancé then husband. He loves you dearly. But, there’s a deeper, darker side of him that even you do not know. 
Despite his laid and cool back approach, Kyle is constantly thinking of bloody and brutal thoughts. He’s aware he shouldn’t have them– but he can’t stop having them. 
He snickers when a man barely brushes against you. Growls when someone unexpectedly touches you. Or how anyone else compliments you, he lets out a sigh and notices your smile is too bright. A tad jealous, but rarely shows it towards you, but rather in his mind where he’s satisfied with his type of savage ending. 
Though, he’s not prone to aggressiveness. He’d never kill for you, never. His heart clenches even at the thought of you missing someone he murdered with his irony knife. And with that, he only uses his murderous tactics if needed.
And instead, he prefers using manipulation. Dropping subtle hints of the people around you, making you double-think of their actions and ensuring you’re aware of their dangers. You shouldn’t trust them, only him, okay? 
However– if you began to see the red flags. The ultimate words of leave, and to break off with him, he won’t be so happy. He tried everything to keep you happy, and you do this? Betray his trust and say to you, “we aren’t compatible with each other”? 
But, the both of you are, right darling?
Eventually, you will see that, and since you want to leave him, it’s necessary to keep you in the house. You can’t live without him. And nor can he without you. Both of you are puzzled for each other, and with time and dedication, Kyle will have you submitting to his ways. Even if it breaks his heart.
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© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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thefiery-phoenix · 2 days
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Hello! Is it ok if I request Yandere headcanons for Gitae kim? It’s ok if you’re not ok with it! Also just wanted to say that I really love all your Yandere content!
YANDERE GITAE KIM HEADCANONS
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Freaking hell, he creeps me TF out but why does he look so good, it's just unfair
Please, for the sake of your own sanity, RUN. Just RUN. That's it. Or at least, run as much as you can since he'll end up finding you anyway since he's the leader of a freaking Cartel and the son of Gapryong Kim after all and is a complete sadistic beast in the form of a man. It's rare that he would ever develop feelings for someone and even if he does, he'll be too egoistic and arrogant and proud to admit it, he'll treat you more like a pet of some sort to be precise. But you're HIS little pet, that he loves in his own dark twisted way. It doesn't matter how you meet this deranged flesh eating cannibal here, the second he sets his eyes on you and his mouth curves upwards into a smirk, that's when you're a goner and you might as well just kiss goodbye to your life and freedom
It was a usual day for you and you were walking back to your house after a long tiring day. You put on some earphones and walked down the alleyway, humming to your favorite tunes feeling the cool breeze against your skin. You tried to ignore the men lurking in the alleyway with beer bottles and cigarettes strewn on the ground as they looked drunk and intoxicated while their lecherous gazes landed on you, leering at you and making all sorts of lewd perverse comments about your body that made your skin crawl. You put your head down and didn't want to get into some kind of confrontation which was the last thing you wanted, when one of them ended up grabbing you by your wrist and you screeched on top of your lungs and thrashed around for all you were worth, pleading with them to let you go as tears streamed down your cheeks and your neatly combed hair was now frizzled and became unkempt with a few of your hair strands falling into your face. One of the men ended up striking you hard across your face as you whimpered in pain and clutched at your now stinging cheek and trembled. Before one of them was about to tear off your shirt, in the blink of an eye, the man's hand was now on the ground leaking crimson as the man screamed in agony and fear and you felt your heart stop beating when your gaze landed on a raven haired guy with blood splattered across his well toned muscular chest and had a black leather jacket with a cruel smile etched on his face as he watched the man fall to the ground, whimpering at the sight of his severed hand
What the man did next would remain ingrained into your memory forever. The stranger with the axe swung his axe around and the head of the man who'd been tormenting you now lay on the ground, his crimson blood painting the gravel of the ground crimson as he cut off a chunk of his flesh and bit into it and tore through the meat like an apex predator. At this point you didn't know if you were safe even after being supposedly saved by this man in front of you as his eyes landed on your whimpering and trembling figure and he smirked sadistically. "Relax little girl, I'm not going to eat you...unless you want me to'' he spoke as his eyes surveyed across your features. You reminded him of a scared vulnerable little prey, a weak little lamb that he could take advantage of and the mere thought of it just excited him as his eyes glinted with malice. Before he could even say something else, your fear consumed you and you ended up blacking out and losing your consciousness. You were about to pummel straight to the ground before he grabbed you by your waist and held you in his arms as he let out a soft chuckle, amused that you fell for him already which did give him a bit of an ego boost
You were so weak, so helpless and so fragile like a little doll that he would love to have in his grasp. He wonders how you'd react if you'd see him in his full glory while he beats up people and murders them on a usual day, you wouldn't even last a second without trembling and crying like the helpless little lamb that you were, which was cute in his opinion. "Looks like I'm takin' you home, eh?'' he said as he hoisted you over his shoulders like a sack of flour and fished out your ID to find your address and made his way to your house. You were quite surprised when you woke up the next day in your own bed and you felt your head was slightly groggy as you massaged your temples and sighed to yourself, secretly glad you were away from that cannibal. You made your way into the living room only to find the same guy napping on your couch, with blood still splattered over his chest as your eyes widened and your face paled and you let out a shrill screech of bloody murder. "Damn it woman...can't even let me nap after I saved you...'' grumbled the guy as he looked at you and his eyes narrowed slightly. He enjoyed watching you squirm and fidget nervously, he could see you were torn between trying to be a good host and thanking him for saving you yesterday to contemplating passing out again. "You know...I expect some sort of thanks from you little girl'' he said as he got up from your couch and strode over to you, his massive frame towering over your body as you gulped nervously
"I-I could give you money if you want...please don't kill me'' you whimpered. "Silly naive girl, who said I wanted your money...you're interesting...I'm keeping you with me'' he said with a smirk. You tried to make a run for it when he grabbed your hands and pinned your arms above your head and cooed at you condescendingly, "Well now that's just rude isn't it? You should thank your savior properly. Now don't make this hard for both of us...be a good little girl for your savior, would you?" he asked as he patted your cheek a few times and caressed your cheek as he lifted you in his arms yet again and you let out a nervous squeak. "Don't you think you should get to know me or something before you literally kidnap me?" you asked him as he looked at you with an amused smile on his face. "Plenty of time to do all that get to know you crap. I'm Gitae by the way since you're so insistent on introductions and crap and this isn't a kidnapping...I'm taking what's mine'' he said as he carried you out of your house
What he wants, he gets. That's it. He wasn't going to waste a single second without taking you back with him, of course, he could have kidnapped you in the night but the element of surprise was what made things more interesting for him. Your cute little reactions to whatever he did riled him up so much. No way was he going to let you go now. The next thing you knew, you were sitting in a black car with him next to you and a few other people who had tattoos as you couldn't believe what you'd gotten yourself into. You silently let tears stream down your face and you looked out the window. Gitae wrapped a black jacket around you since you were still in your night clothes as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. Don't get fooled by his actions though, he's as unpredictable as the weather
If you thought Samuel or Eugene were messed up psychopaths, allow me to introduce you all to the poster boy of being a RED BANNER. He's obsessive, manipulative and won't hesitate to literally gaslight you. While he won't physically hurt you, the same cannot be said to those around you unfortunately. He wants your attention on him, he wants you to cling to his arm like the helpless little doll that you are and look at him with those wide eyes of yours, being all pliant and dependent on him. Whenever you squirm when he touches you he just finds it so amusing and cute, he can't help but put you on his lap when he has his meetings with the men from his cartel while you have a pink collar around you pretty little neck that has HIS name on it so people will know you belong to him. As if those love bites and hickeys on your neck, thighs and arms aren't a testament of you being his. He likes marking you wherever he can, you're his property, HIS doll. Of course, anyone who looks at you for a moment too long or if their gaze wanders to a certain part of your body that belongs to him, he's just going to gouge their eyes out like knife cutting through a slab of butter. And then he'd kiss you on your soft kissable lips possessively and aggressively like a dying man needing air, running his hands over your body till you're literally gasping for breath, in front of everyone else to show those losers that they won't ever be able to have you as their minds are now ingrained with the dire consequences of laying their eyes on Gitae Kim's girl
Whatever hopes you have of escaping from him, it's best to get it out of your mind before he ends up killing and eating one of your dear loved ones right in front of you. You're his little pet, he won't tolerate any form of disobedience from you and he'll tell you how it's your fault they're dead and it's all because you dared to leave him. Your punishment is getting handcuffed to the bed till you're allowed to walk. It's best to just accept his advances towards you because there is no escaping from this deranged psycho at all...
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devildom-moss · 9 hours
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April poll story
NSFW - Leviathan (yandere + degradation)
(Leviathan x gn!MC)
(NSFW) (slightly sub!Leviathan / dom!MC) (mutual masturbation; degradation for Levi; underwear stealing; pillow humping; no penetration; voyeurism; exhibitionism; olfactophilia; slight dacryphilia; jealous/possessive; slightly cruel MC) (yandere!Levi - but kinda light on the yandere)
Word Count: +2,600
Leviathan’s social battery had lucked out; he didn’t have any in-person classes to attend. He had some coursework to do online, but Levi had diligently completed it the night before in anticipation of getting to indulge in one of his favorite pastimes when he had the house to himself. And he was certainly in need of indulging himself today.
Usually, Levi was happy to not have to go to school, but the image of you walking to school with Asmo and Belphegor clinging to your arms while Mammon whined about it from close behind burned in his mind. Levi slammed the door shut behind him, seething with jealousy, as you all disappeared down the road.
Maybe his fantasies were too strong. Maybe it was all in his head, but it felt like you were supposed to belong to him – to be all his. No one else should touch you but him. He considered himself a gross shut-in, sure, but that only fed into his fantasies. Maybe he was so disgusting that his touch alone could taint you so that no one else would ever want you. Then, you’d have no choices left. You’d have to be his and his alone.
As the jealousy raged, Levi grew increasingly pent up. He quickly snuck into your room and located your hamper of dirty clothes. Right where it usually is, thank goodness. It was an awful habit of his: sneaking into your bedroom when no one was home and stealing a pair of your dirty underwear. He would always return them to the hamper after he was done with them – often slightly cleaner than when he had taken them – before you would do your laundry, so he had never been caught. Sometimes, when Levi wanted to get carried away, he would sink to his knees at your bedside and sniff your sheets, imagining all the things you might get up to in the middle of the night. Did you touch yourself often? Did you think about him at all when you did? Would you hate it if you knew how much he wanted you to use him to get yourself off? Other times, he would touch your personal items: innocent caresses over your pillows, holding your favorite shirt in his hands, tracing over the spine of the book you were reading last week. When he was feeling especially depraved, he might run his tongue along your toothbrush or grind his hips against your bath towel.
But today, he had only invaded your privacy to steal your underwear. I need this, he growled under his breath as he escaped to his room – too eager to even shut his door behind him. No one was going to be home for hours. Who was going to care?
Leviathan grabbed his body pillow and slipped your underwear onto them before tossing the pillow to the floor. The curve of his pillow was nothing compared to your body, but it would have to do. He sunk to the floor, hovering just over your underwear at the base of his pillow. A low growl left his lips as he picked up your scent. He couldn’t contain himself anymore.
Levi’s long tongue lolled out of his mouth and licked a slow, wet stripe along the crotch of your underwear as if he was trying to taste you. His tongue slipped beneath the fabric, licking and searching for any morsel of you he could get. Saliva coated the crotch on both sides, and Levi had spent nearly an hour and a half just licking and smelling your used underwear before he finally sat up. His jaw was starting to ache and the scent of you mixed with his saliva was intoxicating. He wanted – needed – more.
A stupid grin was plastered on Levi’s face as he bent back over, pressing his cheek to your underwear, and quickly slid his pants down just enough to expose his own underwear. He was hard and aching, with a prominent damp stain.
“Look. Look at what you’re doing to me, MC,” Levi whined against your underwear before placing a kiss over the fabric. He sat up and inched closer until he could rub his clothed cock over your underwear. It was almost as if he was dry humping you – or at least that was what he wanted to imagine. Each thrust of his hips was slow, deliberate, and needy.
Leviathan wasn’t known for his physical stamina, and yet, when he imagined fucking you, he could keep going – anything to savor the fantasy he had spend countless hours building up in his head. He could have easily dry humped that pillow for another half an hour, thinking about all the noises you might make if he was humping you instead. But his desperation was growing, especially as he imagined you enjoying your day without him. He needed to feel like he was claiming you even more, or he was sure he’d go mad with envy. So, he stopped – just long enough to discard his pants and underwear in the general direction of his gaming chair. Levi stared down at your underwear below him, admiring the way his saliva and the precum had managed to make a mess of them. He slid his cock beneath the fabric and started to thrust again.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, over and over as his thrusts picked up pace. He growled and moaned, rolling his head back. “I fucking own you.”
Unfortunately for Leviathan, his leisurely fantasizing was not going to go uninterrupted. You had been dismissed from school early – after your art professor had to cancel classes because “some cheeky bird-man had hell to pay.” Within minutes of the class beginning, every art supply in the room came flying at the professor. He had managed to dodge everything except for an old jar of dirty paint water that someone from a previous class had forgotten to dump out earlier. He was fuming and in desperate need of a change of clothes and an opportunity for revenge, so your class was cut short.
With little else to do at school, you returned home before the others and decided to head upstairs to shower – only to be stopped short at the top of the staircase by strange noises. It took a second to realize it was Levi. He was moaning, and you could hear creaking.
As you approached, you noticed that his door was open ajar. Against your better judgment, you peeked in through the crack to watch. His pillow was on the floor, and Levi was bucking his hips against it furiously, sweat dripping down his chest and the back of his neck. His movements were erratic – a sign of his desperation. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.
“So fucking good. You’re so tight for me. Take it. Take me inside of you, please. Please? Let me cum inside. Let me mark you. I’ll be yours forever. Fuck, MC, please?” Levi moaned.
You gasped at the sound of your name leaving his lips, and it was just enough to startle Levi and ruin his orgasm. He jumped up and covered himself with a nearby blanket. Only then were you able to see the underwear – your underwear, wrapped around his pillow and covered in pre-cum. Levi curled up on the floor, whimpering and hiding his face. This was it. Surely you were going to hate him now.
With a cruelly slow gait, you walked over to him, bent down, and whispered in his ear, “you fucking perverted creep. Were you thinking about cumming inside me? You’re sick.”
“Don’t hate me, please!” Tears pricked the corners of Levi’s eyes as a shiver ran up his spine. He looked up at you, fearful and desperate. Like an animal backed into a corner, he sprang into action, rushing up and slithering around you. He stood between you and the door, shutting and locking it behind him. “P-please hear me out. Listen. I – I’m so sorry. I just got jealous after seeing you with the others this morning. I won’t do it again.”
You had no reason to believe him – which would have been for the best, as he was lying. Still, something about the fear and desire in his eyes was getting to you, and it only made you meaner. You tilted your head and asked, “How many times have you stolen my underwear?”
“What?”
“You heard me: how many times have you done this?”
“I – MC, I . . .” Levi started, wondering if he could bring himself to lie again. A threat of hatred loomed in the air – so terrifying that it forced him towards honesty. He muttered, ashamed, “too many to count.”
“Dirty fucking slut,” you scoffed. “You disgusting shut-in, you can’t even tell me you want to fuck me? You just sneak around – slithering behind my back, stealing my things, and humping your pillow like a bitch in heat? You’re pathetic – lower than any snake in the deepest pits of hell.”
“I’m so sorry,” Leviathan whimpered in a tone aimed to prove your accusation that he was pathetic. He couldn’t even look at you. Instead, he stared down at your stained underwear. As ashamed as he was, he couldn’t help but get excited at how you degraded him. The fear and arousal stirred in his bloodstream, only to be overcome by his intense jealousy – a desperate need to cling to the idea of making you his. “I, uhm – I understand if you hate me, but please. I can’t let you leave until you forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” you laughed – cruel and mocking.
“Yes. I need you to forgive me.” You could see the shame tinting his cheeks a bright pink.
“Who said I was mad?” you laughed again – this time playful and sweet.
Leviathan’s eyes widened – shocked at your forgiving nature. He always knew you were an angel. Tears welled at the corner of his eyes again, and you took a second to admire how pretty he looked, crying and relieved to not be despised by you. Then, you grabbed another pillow from Levi’s tub and tossed it on the floor in front of the body pillow. Levi’s brows knit together in confusion, trying to understand what was happening as you stripped down to your underwear and straddled the pillow.
“Wh-what are you . . .?” He watched on cautiously.
“This is as close as you’re going to get to fucking me today, you sick little pervert. So, go back to what you were doing before.” You glanced between him and the body pillow. He hesitated. “Now, you disgusting creep.”
Levi nodded enthusiastically and quickly joined you on the floor. His movements were slow and nervous; you could tell that he was anxious to have you watch him. Even as he twitched in pleasure and leaked all over your used underwear, he was filled with inhibition. Instead of admitting that he looked adorable, shyly humping his pillow and trying not to stare at you, you aimed to embarrass him even more.
“Tell me what you thought about while you were using my underwear to get off,” you demanded, still rocking your hips into his other pillow.
“Why?” he squeaked out, humiliated. There was no way he could admit anything so embarrassing.
“Because I said so. What? Afraid I’ll find out what a sick, depraved slut you really are?”
Levi’s face flushed pink up to his ears as he mentally conceded. The words fell from him in excited whimpers, “I was – I think about making you mine – just mine. And – and that I could trap you in my room for days, fucking you, letting you use my useless cock for your pleasure until – until I’ve stained you. I-I don’t want anyone else to touch you. Every realm. I want them all to be repulsed by you so that you only have me. Just be mine. Be a shut-in with me forever.”
It was so easy to tell that Leviathan had read and written so many fanfics over the years. He had a mixture of desperation and yearning – as if it was the only thing sustaining his desires. Between his embarrassment and the feeling of grinding on his pillow, even you were starting to make a mess.
“What else did you imagine? Surely that’s not the only thing that horny, needy little head imagined, is it?” You encouraged him.
“No. I – I imagined what it must feel like to be inside you. I licked up your underwear, craving you, thinking about how good my tongue could make you feel. I like to smell it, imagining how hot your skin feels when you get aroused and – and what it would taste like. Please, I-I thought about uhm, kissing your ass and thighs until – ‘til you’re all marked up and staining all your clothes with my cum and not having to wash it out.”
You were getting close, and the submissive little moans that peppered Levi’s confessions only brought you closer. Somehow, Levi could sense it, and it made him jealous of his pillow.
“It’s not fair,” he whined. “Fucking my pillow right in front of me. I-I know I’m useless, but fuck. It makes me so mad and jealous, knowing you’d rather hump a pillow than let me fuck you or use my mouth to please you. Am I really that pathetic?”
“Yes,” you groaned, picking up your pace – half in response to his question and half in response to chasing your orgasm. The sad little whimper that left Levi as he arched his back and pumped his cum all over his pillow and your underwear pushed you over the edge. You continued to grind your hips through your orgasm before coming to a stop.
You were both left panting. After a few seconds, you gathered the strength to stand up. You got completely naked before grabbing your uniform and draping it over your arm. Levi watched you, eyes still glazed over with lust, but cautious, nonetheless.
“Well, I need to shower. Can I leave now?” You glanced over at the locked door, wondering if Levi was actually such a creep that he intended to keep you locked in his room.
“Y-yes. Sorry!” Levi scrambled up to unlock the door for you, stumbling through his first few steps. “Thank you. I’m sorry. Thank you!”
You laughed as Levi stood at the door, holding it open for you, naked and embarrassed, but polite all the same. He looked strangely refreshed in his humiliation, so you decided to push him further. “And just in case I’m wrong about how horny and disgusting you are, don’t wash those pillows tonight. You deserve to sleep with a pillow as dirty as you are.”
Levi’s blush deepened and he tried to hide the smile threatening to form on his lips. “Y-yes, MC. Th-thank you.”
“You fucking pervert.” You handed him your newly soiled underwear on your way out the door. Levi was too stunned to speak as you walked off into the bathroom. Tears formed in his eyes again as he shut the door behind him and brought the new underwear up to his nose. MC came in these. I bet I could taste it. Levi kissed and licked over the wet spot you had left, cleaning it with his mouth. He was already hard again.
But, as if you could read him like a cliché +18 manga, Levi’s phone buzzed. You had sent him a message.
MC: Don’t you dare start touching yourself again. Be good and stay hard all night, and maybe I’ll let you touch me in the morning.
Anticipation grew in Leviathan. He was almost jealous of tomorrow’s version of himself – the one who might get the opportunity to finally fuck you.
tag request: @denpa-dere
A/N: Sorry. It's a little late, but I hope you all will like it. I don't really know how I feel about it, so comments would be nice. I'm sorry I've been gone most of the month. I'll keep trying, but I don't know. I feel like I got my summer depression a little too early this year? Who knows. I'm trying not to force it too much.
That said, I did put up a poll for May. I love Asmo, so hopefully that helps a little. I'm not really sure.
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peachsayshi · 7 months
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sukuna’s concubines serve him. they are there for his pleasure. they don’t get to ask, demand or request anything in return. he uses them for a good fuck, and they comply with obedience. but…things are different with you - his favorite, most precious little pet -
you’re the only one he gets on his knees for, who he worships from between your legs, with his tongue buried against your heat as he eats you out just to hear your pretty cries. you’re the one who earns orgasm after orgasm under the cruel ministrations of his fingers, just because he enjoys watching how far he can push you. you’re the one who sleeps by his side after he fucks you, who remains in the safe comfort of his embrace and who gets littered with sweet kisses just because you’ve earned his adoration
no one else gets this treatment, this reciprocation, other than his most favored~
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lovelyghst · 4 months
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ghost has such a vast array of names he calls his sweetheart in bed, but the one that won’t leave my mind is porn star. just listen ok—
he doesn’t even mean it in a degrading way, whatsoever. teasing, maybe, but never outright cruel. he just loves admiring you and your aptitude; your willingness to break a sweat when you’re on top of him, your resilience when he asks you if you need a break and you shake your head fervidly because he hasn’t reached his peak yet.
he absolutely adores all the noises you make. the soft and dulcet hums in your throat when he’s making love to you, to the rapid huffs of air being pushed directly from your lungs when he grabs your hips and uses you like how you begged him to. god, and your expressions? your smile as you unbuckle his belt, and your giggles when he flips it around on you and sneaks a hand beneath your skirt. even when you’ve been fucked utterly dumb, you’re still the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. it’s all so erotic to him, like it belongs on film.
and so he eventually comes through to just that, taking out a camcorder that happened to be lying around; one that he definitely didn’t purchase for the exact purpose of filming a little sex-tape with you, certainly not ordering it online behind your back or anything.
you happily put on a little show for him, with the lively energy in your voice turning sensual and your exaggerated reactions that soon become all too real. the lens staring you down from above as he takes his time with you, cooing at you the tenderest of praises whilst breaking you down to a shuddering mess beneath him before he even gives you his cock. slowly massaging your aching pussy, past your hiked up dress and through your cotton panties, just to drag his hand up your body and have you suck on the very thumb that made the soaked spot on your underwear. he’s such a mean, mean tease.
he’s enamored with the way your cunt stretches to fit his cock, especially how it shows up on the small screen of the camera. each ridge dragging against your soft flesh wrapped so tightly around him, to the point where his breath is hitching in his throat and he’s failing to suppress those faint groans and swears spilling past his lips.
“makin’ all these depraved noises for me, and no shame you’re bein’ recorded? already fucked you that stupid, ‘ave i, sweet girl?”
you moan unabashedly at that, words that should be demeaning only hitting you right in the sweet spot. you can no longer keep your eyes on the lens above you, reaching out to grasp at the wrist connected to the fingers circling your raw pussy as you plead with your brows. you’re so overwhelmed, though enjoying it far too much to quit.
wrapping your legs around his back and pulling him in closer, eyes rolling back. swollen lips falling further agape and making him chuckle lowly. he goes on ramming his cock into the sticky mess of your cunt, thumbing your clit to push you over so that the last thing your fuzzy mind will hear is him calling you his favorite nickname:
“my pretty, little porn star… takin’ everything she’s given, ‘n with no complaint. just like a good actress does, right, baby?”
he spurs you on, grinning huge behind the camcorder he holds when you hum and nod along with whatever he says. you pull his free hand into your own, lacing your fingers with his; he always grounds you so well after he’s spun you higher than a ballerina. dazed and content, and simple happy to give him something to watch while he’s away. you never have to act when you’re with him, but you can’t help the butterflies swarming your tummy whenever he praises you for it.
“there’s my good fuckin’ girl… now smile for the camera, princess.”
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seraphdreams · 4 months
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"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MEGUMI!" | MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.
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𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— synopsis. it would be so very cruel of you to not show your appreciation for your best friend, especially on his birthday.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— cw. smut, college au, reader calls him “megs”, mention of “angelcunt”, unprotected love-making, bimbo!reader / best friend!megumi, a bit of asphyxiation, megumi with a crush! fingering, and praise. mdni <3
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— word count. 1.7k, a quick read !!
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! hellooo !! it’s a real one’s birthday, this is the least i could do to celebrate. i’m trying to get back into the groove of writing again so stay tuned n ready 4 fics in the future !! sweet college au best friend megumi is always on my mind, something about a stoic but secretly in love trope .. (he’s no better than his father, sigh) .. as always, if you enjoyed this, please reblog / comment. i’ll bake u you’re favorite sweets if u do !! thank u ♡
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megumi has always been there for you. through ups and downs, taxing breakups, even the times you’d get exceedingly inebriated and ramble endlessly about your ever-growing appreciation for him — there was no denying the cordiality he’d shown throughout the many years of your friendship. sure, he could be quite cold, maybe even grumpy; but that was just the joy of megumi fushiguro.
and for that, it’d only be right to repay him.
for all of the times he would show up uninvited to your dorm with the notes of the lecture you’d fortuitously missed, blaming the absence on the absurdly quiet lull of your alarm clock, or when he’d let you have the last bite of his food, because only god knows megumi was never above tolerating you. it’d be the work of a terrible friend to let it all go unnoticed, especially on a special day like today.
“happy birthday, megs!” there you stood,
bubbly and bright as ever, in the doorway of his bedroom, clad in nothing but a tiny pink pajama set with a top reigning transparency, it barely left the skin beneath to the imagination.
he had invited you, along with yuuji and nobara, over to his dorm the previous night to keep him company after class — which led to a kugisaki-induced movie marathon, and eventually phased out into the four of you passed out on the fushiguro’s couch, hues of light omitting from the colorful rays of the forgotten television screen and onto your slumbering faces.
with megumi holding the title of competency within the friend group, it came as no shock when he’d woken up the others to send them on their merry way. all except you, of course. the light throw-over blanket clinging to your body neatly as you slept, soft snores resonating within your being aided in megumi’s decision to give you a few extra minutes to rest.
he could never interfere with your comfort.
after your unanticipated birthday wishes, it took a moment for megumi to come to, blinking away his awareness for your scantily clothed body and opting for a more stoic expression.
“thanks,” he replied, tone low and clouded with an air of vague appreciation.
“wanna know what i got you for your birthday?” your query was that of a sing-song manner as you swayed in place. megumi was used to being around absolute rays of sunshine, but you? you were different. it was as if you were the sun itself; warm and inviting yet shone luminous enough to blind onlookers. you were tooth-rottingly sweet, and as bubbly as you were naive.
matters weren’t made any better forgoing the fact that megumi had true feelings for you. it was a running gag within your friend group, jokes that itadori and nobara would make concerning the contrast between megumi’s unwelcoming behavior when it came to them, and impassive patience had times fell upon you.
in fact, obliviousness was your specialty in being ignorant to the feelings of the fushiguro. it wasn’t your fault, you truly didn’t know.
megumi responds curtly, although with a hint of sarcasm, “a break?”
you pout as you rest your head against the lacquered doorframe, reigning defeated already despite the conversation barely racking up a minute’s time. “no, silly.” the words come out as a giggle. “i got you me!”
a hint of confusion glosses over his features before it morphs into that of a neutral expression. shirtless from his shower just minutes prior, and puzzled from what your mind had conjured up this time, he questions again. “you? you got me you?”
you shake your head affirmatively as he starts up once more. “and what do i do with you?”
clear as day, your exchange took a rather suggestive turn, one that neither of you were intending. “well, you can do a lot of things with me,” now stepping into the room to close the distance between your bodies, your response is thick with an air of lust that megumi noticed seemed to come naturally for you. his heart picks up in pace from the sight of your pretty face, and even prettier eyes looking vacantly into his, as if you weren’t aware of the trap you set up for yourself.
he brushed off the slight arousal brewing up within him, chose to play it off as mirth like he usually did when it came to you. “i guess so.”
you held onto his arm, a more distinct, yet adorable look of seriousness on your features. truly, you were a little doll. “i’m for real, megs. it’s your birthday, i’ll let you do anything you want.”
yeah. you’re really going to regret this one.
the word “anything” came with free reign. and even though megumi thought of himself as anyone but a pervert, he certainly was bound to start acting like one.
“anything?” his question came out as if he was treading lightly while he moved to dig through his drawer, perhaps looking for a shirt.
you stepped back to allow him the space of rummaging, while nodding your head and confirming his suspicions. “anything.”
“let’s fuck, then.”
his tone was nonchalant, easy on your ears as his speaking voice regularly sounded, and you would have missed his request had he not straightened up to search your countenance for an answer — deadpan, as if he hadn’t said a thing.
in that moment, all of what you hadn’t noticed, no. all of what you chose to deny had finally been put into perspective.
megumi fushiguro was fucking hot.
“i mean, if that’s what you want then i don’t mind.” your response was succinct, gentle on your tongue and provided him the response he’d been aiming for.
this might be his best birthday yet.
he strode closer to you in light steps before his large, glacial hand found its place on your cheek and silken lips met yours, pulling you into a salacious kiss filled with hunger and want. the press of his tongue begging to be allotted within the slot of your lips was accepted with your own muscle dancing against his. it was dizzying, and dissimilar. for all your years of knowing megumi, you would’ve never thought up the occuring situation.
lithe fingers danced up the skin of your thighs where you part them on instinct, allowing his digits to work on their own to slip past the barrier of elastic fabric and into your little lace panties, softly drumming along the puffy nub of your clit.
“megumi,” you rasp against his lips, swirling your hips over his hand to build up the sweet friction surging from your core. the saccharine croon of his name tasted sugary like vanilla rolling off of your tongue and onto his. he was in pure bliss; ready to take everything you gave to him.
his body responded to your need, fingertips at your clit circling tightly, an action that pulled a string of mewls from you before you gasped at the intrusion of his long fingers dipping into your core. they curled upwards against your gummy walls just until they increased in pace while his thumb pivoted at your sensitive nub, and fuck! where’d he learn how to do that?
he pulled away only slightly to read your expression, the tent in his pants growing taller, tip leaking carelessly at the onsight of your face, screwed taut in pleasure — plump, glossy lips that were slick with spit and moans slipping past without prevail.
underneath him, your legs felt feeble, as if they’d fall beneath you from the surgence of pleasure. “m-megumi, wait, ‘m gonna!-“ you held onto his shoulders for leverage, your warnings of orgasm falling on deaf, distracted ears, until finally, you were a gushing mess in his palm, coating his digits in your essence.
“fuck. you’re so pretty when you cum,” in that moment, he gave you no chance to react when he gently positioned you over his dresser, pulling down your little shorts until they pooled around your knees.
“y’made me so hard, y/n. can you feel it?” he grinded himself over the plush of your ass, teasing before pulling his sweats down just enough so that his hard, throbbing and leaking, length could be free. it bobbed ever so under its weight while one hand began to pump from base to shaft to soothe the excruciating ache. once he felt satisfied in his ministrations, he lined his cock along your awaiting slit.
“a condom, megs.” your reminder came in the form of a soft lull. after all, you two were just free-spirited college students, unable to pay the consequences of spontaneous actions. “don’t have any.” with that, he sunk his cock inside to the hilt, a low groan rippling from his throat at just how tight your pussy clamped around him. it felt like fucking heaven. he could die in your cunt and be at peace.
while you adjusted to the stretch, he began to move; slow, deep strokes as if he were savoring this moment forever. who knows when he’ll be able to have the luxury to sink inside your perfect angelcunt again? you bit your lip to stave off impending moans which ultimately failed when his arms snaked around your body — one hand underneath the cloth of your shirt and pinching at your perked nipples while the other finds its place right back at your clit.
“sh-shit!” you cry out, eyes rolling and mind hazy from the pleasure. his rhythm increased gradually until he built up a vigorous pace. “i’ve been needing y-you so bad.” megumi groans along the shell of your ear. how he got so lucky as to have his dream girl engulfed around his cock, he doesn’t know. all he’s aware of was the tightening of his abdomen, signaling his own impending orgasm.
white hot pleasure replace all feeling in your body, counting down its time until the familiar numbness washed over you in euphoria. a pitchy moan sounded from your lips and an even whorish whimper when the warmth from spurts of his cum coated your insides.
after what felt like a minute of the two of you recollecting your breaths, megumi finally pulled out, shuddering at the added stimulation at his oversensitive cock.
he leaned your head back to meet his lust-filled gaze; calmness of his deep navy orbs now deepened with sin. megumi pressed gentle kisses all over your face while his hands took purchase at your now, exposed, neck and squeezed tight enough to keep you lightheaded.
“you’re the best birthday present.”
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fairy-hub · 5 months
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𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pure intense fluff, kissing, cuddling, squeezing, handsy pouty bastard, insisting you’ve been neglecting him, his is dying and it’s all your fault, how dare you do this to him, he will hold you accountable for your heinous crimes by cuddling you, toji is going soft for you, established relationship
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Standing in front of your vanity, slipping your earrings off, sticking them with the rest. Glancing into your vanity mirror when Toji emerges from the bathroom.
Arms crossed over his bare pecs sticking his bottom lip out in his adorable pout. It’s one of your favorite Toji expressions. He huffs, “Finally someone figures where they live.”
He unzips the back of your dress. “You weren’t here!” kissing your shoulder. Slipping it down your body, trailing gentle sloppy kisses down your back. “The house was so empty and cold, I was dying of loneliness little mama.”
Stepping out of your dress, he tossing it into the hamper beside the bedroom door. “Is it even a home without you there?” His warm fingers brushing against your back unclasping your bra, gliding the straps off your shoulders. His touch comforting.
You insist, “Without you this place is just some walls.” Grabbing his hands, kissing his warm palms. Glancing into the mirror, Toji “It’s also not my fault you showed up two days early. Couldn't rush a planned girl’s night for your needy ass.” Turning around sliding your hand over his thick pecs, broad shoulder and into his soft dark hair.
“Im only needy when it comes you to mama. You’re so cruel neglecting me.” Grabbing your ass, lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his slim waist.
“We aren't leaving for the weekend. Tired of seeing everyone’s ugly ass faces and hearing their annoying ass voices.” He kisses the top of your head. “Just need to spend some time with you mama.” Wrapping his arms around your waist, squeezing your tightly.
Wheezing, “I'm all your’s Teddy Bear!” Your back pops several times. Gasping for sweet air when he loosens his gasp.
“Damn right you are.” Kissing along Toji’s jawline, softly biting his pouty bottom lip, melting into his gentle kiss.“It’s not fair mama I can't squeeze you like I want to.” Carrying you through the hallway, towards the living room. “Get good mama, lemme squeeze you tighter.”
“Nah Teddy Bear that’s a you problem.” Squeezing Toji’s slim waist with your legs, tightening your grasp around Toji’s neck. “I can hug you as tight as I want. Ha-ha-haha!” Ripping you off him and throwing you onto the sofa.
“Imma make it your problem little mama.” Carefully falling on top of you, pinning your body with his weight. Resting his head on your chest. “Hahah! Looks whose trapped now! I’m not letting you go anywhere beautiful.”
Pushing himself up, and leaning in for a kiss. “All mine.” Parting your lips, the gentle hunger of his passionate kiss replacing your need for air. Slipping your fingers through his soft dark hair.
When he pulls away, covering your face with kisses. You grin widelyz “I missed ya so much teddy bear, I’m all your’s for the rest of the week. I’ll make sure you get sick of me.” Giving your forehead another gentle kiss, squeezing your hips.
It’s comforting having his heavy weight pressing you into the bed. His large strong hands on your body making you feel so safe and protected. His gentle kisses and words ensuring you know how cherished you are.
His cheeks turn pink, spreading across the bridge of his nose, coloring the tips of his ears. “I can never get enough of you.” His eyes widen. “Listen to me, ya made me all mushy, gonna have to hold you responsible. Hmm how should I do that.”
Oreo creampie’s m.list
Satoru’s verison!
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tacticalprincess · 9 days
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hi im sorry for this random urge but like i have the horny thought of any of the cod men who have a s/o whos pleasure only comes from their clit so the poor guy does everything that he can to their little nub (cough like putting the shower jet on tbe nub COUGH)
in my mind, könig’s obsessed with your clit regardless, because he sees it as a cheat code. during sex, he’s sometimes more engrossed in chasing his own pleasure than worrying about getting you off, so he knows that when in doubt, he can always fiddle with your sensitive bundle of nerves and knock a few good orgasms out of you. it’s lazy and selfish of him, but that’s neither here nor there. however, if you only felt pleasure from your clit? oh, it’s getting bullied :(
because of his ego, he’d want to test out the theory, in complete disbelief that his cock doesn’t do anything for you but fill you up and stretch you out. but after that, he would never let the poor little bud rest. his favorite activity would be trying new methods and techniques to see just how many ways he can send you over the edge. suckling at it with his tongue, mercilessly rubbing it with his thick fingers, making you glide it along his throbbing cock until its puffy and throbbing. the shower jet was one of his more inventive ideas, your back pressed to his chest as he hiked one of your legs up, giving you no choice but to take the stream of overstimulation to your worn out button while you ground your hips into nothing :(
it also comes in handy when you’re being bratty, or if he just feels especially cruel that day. he’ll fuck you countless times, filling you up repeatedly until you’re sore and crying, begging to cum. he’ll pin your hands above your head when you try to give yourself relief, lift your hips off the bed if you try rubbing into it. he loves the authority it gives him over you, not letting you finish until he’s satisfied. safe to say, he’d have lots of fun with you.
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hoseoksluna · 2 months
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SOJU | jjk
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pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. hobi)
genre: heavy angst, heavy smut
word count: 10.4k
summary: jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.
playlist: soju / pinterest board: wine
warnings: sex flashbacks, alcohol consumption, jungkook is drunk emotional and a mess, jealousy, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), almost heavy dd/lg themes, plushie used during intercourse, inner child healing, use of a sex toy, oral sex (f. receiving), ass play and nipple play, provocation, dirty talk, hair pulling, dry humping, rough sex, overstimulation, pain felt during intercourse, jungkook instructs reader like the teacher he is, pet names and one particular title used, squirting, praise kink, jungkook is mean and cruel and just so horny
note: i will never forget this fic. never. this is the third part of 'wine' and therefore the very end to this adventitious series. even though, this part has a little bit information and quirks in it from the other two fics, it's fine to read as a standalone, but i do recommend reading all three parts as they interlink and you can beautifully see the process and the change of their relationship. i want to thank the lovely soul who asked me to make this a series because writing this made me incredibly happy—and all the themes i used mean the world to me. i also want to thank all of you for reading and for all the love. i hope you like this as much as i do. please, heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that not everyone can be comfortable with. with that being said, enjoy your reading and let me know what you think, let me know your favorite parts. ᡣ𐭩
side note: drunk 3D jungkook being all mean, dominant and daddy is, quite literally, the epitome of my sexuality.
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Jungkook will always be a man of his word.
It’s the foundation that keeps his back straight as he leads you through the crowd. The core of the whole promise is the very strength of his fingers as they clasp around your much smaller hand because he notices, under the washed out lights of red and violet, that you’re the center of attention.
He feels as though he’s dragging the hand of a child like a protective father. Except, he has the impulsive need to cover you with his body.
It’s a blasting alarm within the ear splitting chaos of his mind. Louder than the modern music he cares little for; louder than the song of the hard, quickening beats of his heart that he’s unable to ignore. He promised he’d make it up to you about the party because he’d made you drunk with lust. Now that he’s taken you here, he’d much rather be back home with you. Wouldn’t even have the need to seduce you—he just doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want you to be the apple of everyone’s eye.
Sweat glistens on the planes of his forehead.
Jungkook returns every inquisitive look of people he doesn’t know with a stern furrow of his brows. Figures he needs a drink; figures he needs his hyung, at least one familiar face among strangers.
A strong one, to calm the storm within, and a big hug from the host himself.
He hates people.
Leading you to the makeshift bar of spirits in the kitchen, he has a protective hand over the small of your back as you climb on the bar stool. Watches as your ass lifts over the leather and almost jumps out of his own skin when the outsole of your high-heeled shoe slips on the footrest and you fall back onto the chair with a thud. A precious set of treble giggles billow out of your mouth, followed by a reassuring flick of your hand that you’re okay, and Jungkook’s own hand trembles when he lifts it off your back. While you open your purse to reapply your lip gloss, he hides behind his tight, feigned smile the need to run and calm his breathing.
His irises wander over the contents of that purse of yours. Finds a long brown pencil there, your phone, a pack of cigarettes with a purple lighter and a ring of keys adorned with the tiniest Hello Kitty he’s ever seen. No wallet, no cash tucked beneath. A smirk tugs the corner of his mouth, hand acting out of its own will—coming over to your long hair, smoothing it down as you focus on lining your lips with another set of glitter and pinkness. Perhaps the gesture is owed to the proudness he feels due to the fact you’re expecting to be provided for throughout the night, wherever it takes you both after this party. Blurred within is the smugness that he’s the reason you’re dolling yourself up again because he couldn’t help but make a mess of your mouth in the car. It makes his cock grow tight in his pants.
He wears the smugness all over his features. From the gleaming cosmos in his eyes, to the smudged kiss stains of all the roses in the world scattering over his nose and cheeks, down to the deepening smirk. He thinks he’d buy you anything your eyes would linger a heartbeat longer on, with snacks included in case you’d get hungry, as he silently praises you for your good behavior, for that smart brain of yours by the brush of his hand down your hair. A sick part of him wants to even get in debt for you for the pure fun of it—the fun being the primal core of your wishes and needs being gratified, for your satisfaction to shine through the veins on your skin like little sun rays, all while having the time of your life on the night out he promised you.
He’s not afraid to admit he’d do anything for you as long as it stays safely stashed within his system. Can’t risk voicing it out. Can’t risk you knowing. Can’t risk shit.
Studying the shape of your lips as you hold up a small heart-shaped mirror, he twirls the ends of your hair as he waits for you to be done to ask you what you want to drink. Is reminded of the way those pillows wrapped around the straw of the banana milk you brought for him the last time he saw you. Of the way they sucked his fingers when he used them for lubrication to rub your clit while he was fully buried inside your tight, dew-sprinkled cunt. He suddenly feels hot under his collar.
He’s a slave to flashbacks. Always has been.
The celestial concoction of your needy moans and his, kept safe within the confines of his car, loop in his brain. The look of agonized lust when he bit your bottom lip in a heated kiss that he soon alleviated with the swipe of his tongue, with the suction of his lips that begged him to take more of you. Jungkook hears it as if there wasn’t any music at all, as if its thrumming wasn’t enveloping the corridors of his panic-stricken heart. He hears your words, embellished by those giggles of yours, in his ears all over again: “Stop, you’re making me horny. We should go inside.” His own, too: “You dance better for me when your panties are wet. I know you do.” Sees again, as if the moment is happening again and you’re standing in front of him, the way you reacted to his hands warming up your sides in the cold after you stumbled out of his car. Sighing softly, glossy eyes whirling upwards to the drowsy sky full of quivering stars, tipsy on the desire he’s obsessed with awakening in you while being tipsy just the same. The smile rising on your lips when he asked: “Show me how you’re gonna dance for me.” The way you moved your hips in such a silly way that squeezed his heart until it was difficult to breathe.
He’s fucked. Knows he is. Has known it for a while now.
You’re the origin of the chaos within his mind. The body of it itself. He has a teeny-tiny version of you in his mind that lives there, and lives there well because he feeds her, brushes her hair and gives her kisses, despite the storm.
He could never tell you—how much he thinks about you daily.
To a certain extent, he almost did the last time you came around, in a frenzy of sensuality and pent-up desire that consumed him. Prayed you didn’t see it for the way it really was.
It’s not just lust, and it’s more than just a friendship.
He figured as much—doesn’t have any fucking idea what to do with it. 
Not a single one. Especially not when you pucker your lips at him and screw the applicator back into the tube. 
He doesn’t want to lose you. Doesn’t ever want to lose the sight of that pucker of yours. And he fears that if he tells you of his weakness for you, he might never see it again.
So, he opts to keep things safe, keep things casual. That is until he eventually bursts.
That’s another promise, too. 
He pulls on one of your strands. Your head knocks back, eyes wide at the audacity of it all. He laughs at your reaction.
“Can you stop?”
Jungkook does it again just to see the shock written over your face, full on belly laughing.
“What the fuck?” You slap his shoulder, the impact so small he barely feels it. “You want me to pull your hair, too?”
He grabs his stomach. “No, what I want to know is what you wanna drink.”
You purse your lips in feigned anger, fingers outstretched by the back of his head to play-pull his hair or perhaps slap him into oblivion. If you could manage it. 
He doesn’t think you could. 
He goes around you to sit beside you on the bar stool, studying the bottles of liquor his hyung bought. Is ignorant to the way you’re studying him, to the way the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly at the discovery of the current situation in his intimate parts. 
Pulls out one to acknowledge himself with it. Asks you if you wanna drink it. 
You don’t say anything. 
When Jungkook lifts his eyes to scold you for not paying attention, all the words get hitched in his throat. You’re grinning from ear to ear. All those damned words are forgotten immediately. 
“Are you hard?” you whisper, flushed at the face, glossy eyes glimmering, ever so excited about your discovery. 
He feels himself twitch. Hides it by cupping himself discreetly. 
Averts his eyes. “I’m always hard around you,” he mutters, twisting the bottle open. “I’ve gotten used to it.” 
He doesn’t look at you when he pours you a shot, but he focuses on the way your breathing gains speed. Fights the smile threatening his lips caused by how easy it is to provoke you. 
“You wanna get out of here?”
You’re hasty as you ask, looking around you, inspecting which room you could use to drag him into and relieve him of his problem, but he assures you it’s no problem at all with a curt shake of his head. 
Strangely, he found a way to like the tension in his pants. Thinks it digs deep into the depth of the moment—simply makes it more exciting. 
“We just got here,” Jungkook says flatly, screwing the lid back on. “Don’t be rude.” 
He filled your shot to the brim not necessarily with the intention to make you drunk as fast as he can, but to watch your eyes widen the way they do so sweetly. And you don’t disappoint him at all when you do just that, the smile on your lips blossoming still. An aura of shyness envelops you in softness due to his disapproving words and Jungkook realizes he grazed your submission by reprimanding you. While it magnifies his smugness, he feels a little bit bad for you. Knows how much it turns you on when his fatherliness looms out, but blames you for it nonetheless. You rouse it in him.
You may have never told him about your father wounds, but his instincts sensed it in you—sought it out like its own child and cradled it in his arms, promising to never let go.
Promise. There it is again.
He wants to spend the rest of his life promising you things. Doesn’t matter what. He just wants the security, the cord of trust, that you’ll be here; that you’ll be here for a long time. It truly doesn’t matter if he promises you things internally or outwardly.
Jungkook cups your chin. Wants to say something. Wants to reassure you that you can take the shot, encourage you a tiny bit. But what you say to him dries up his throat completely.
“You don’t want a blowie?”
Your words were a mere silky noise, but he heard you. Curled his fingers tight into fists in order not to bend you over the bar stool and take you right then and there in front of everyone.
Decides he will provoke you right back.
“You don’t want a lickie?” he murmurs, drawing close to you so you’re the only one who hears him. “You don’t want Daddy’s tongue on your little clit?”
You gasp and grip his knee, your legs intuitively spreading.
Jungkook skims his surroundings to see if anyone’s watching. When the coast is clear—people mindlessly mingling, having conversations—he hovers his lips against your ear, hand coming in between your legs, not to touch you but to cover you. Whispers, “or you don’t want Daddy’s tongue fucking you fast? Licking over your little ass? Hm, you don’t know how good that feels yet, do you?”
You’re holding in a sob—Jungkook sees it in the way your eyes and lips round, brows furrowing. He made you wet. Serves you right.
He pulls away to pour you a chaser. Asks which one you want.
You take a deep breath, flicking your hair back. “Coca cola,” you chirp, despite the deathly grip you have on his knee, perhaps to hold your sanity together, other fingers wrapping around the shot. Small, so fitting for an equally small glass.
Jungkook laughs. Loves it. Loves…
The realization, of what he almost granted access to within his system, strangles his heart. He hears nothing for a moment, not the music, not the tremor of his weak heart. Nothing.
A can of Coke waits for you behind the bar on the kitchen counter and before any thought flicks through his brain, Jungkook stands to his feet to fetch it for you—to get his blood pumping again so he can gain control of his senses. It scares him, the nothingness. Even his eyes fail to focus as he looks for the metallic red can he swore he saw hardly a minute ago. He feels a slap on his back and a familiar face, at last, comes into view. 
Hobi. 
The first thought that resurfaces is filled with thankfulness enveloping around that name, dispersed with tiny kisses of ‘you saved me, hyung’. Jungkook dives head-first into the offering hug of his savior, his senses returning to him like magnets attaching to metal. He takes in a deep breath as if he was under water and just came up for air. 
“So glad to see you,” Hobi says, rubbing his back. 
Jungkook squeezes his shoulder. Says something that doesn’t reflect what he truly wants to say, keeps up the small talk while burying under layers upon layers of mud the confession that he almost told himself he loved you. 
Which reminds him that he didn’t introduce you.
“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Jungkook says, grabbing the can of Coke his eyesight is now clear enough to spot and an empty, tall glass for you. Guides his friend to where you’re sitting but what he sees almost makes him jump out of his own skin for the second time in the span of an hour—almost sobs tearfully at the unfortunate discovery. 
A mop of dirty blonde curls shaking at the impact of his laughter as he whispers sweet nothing into the shell of your ear. He towers from behind you, compressing you in the muscly width of his half-barren chest. An electricity of anguish spasms down the course of Jungkook’s body, for in a flash he’s reminded of the way you towered above him just the same the last time. His sweat cools as you listen to him, a pang after pang of jealousy stinging him in his abdomen. He’s frozen on the spot—Hobi says something, but Jungkook can’t hear him—that is until you make a face of discomfort.
Jungkook sees red. 
His heart slams hard against his chest, but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel its intention to break his ribcage. 
The words unfurl out of his tight mouth before he can think them through. “Can I fucking help you?” he hisses through his teeth, setting the glass and the can down harshly. The noise makes you jump, which instantly drives him to regret his actions—and it puts an end to his rage.
He didn’t mean to scare you. Doesn’t want you to regard him this way. 
The sudden softness welcomes his senses back with a gentle beckoning.
Lifting his eyes, the guy ignores the question. Whispers something again that forces you to pierce your stare into the fire that burns within Jungkook’s irises. Not the fire he let you see throughout the trajectory of your casual relationship, the blue, the dreamily sultry one. 
The one that licks over his eyes is black. Pitch black. No sign of stars, no dots of reflection of light. Pure pitch black.
But you hold his gaze, unafraid of the darkness.
For a reason unknown to him, it ignites you with strength to shove raggedy Barbie Ken away. Your touch lingers on his chest for a mere second and is not as scorching as the bite of your words: “Yes, I’m here with him and I’m not interested in you. Go away.”
Jungkook doesn’t look at the guy. Doesn’t give two shits about the painful twists of his features as he staggers away. Forgets about Hobi; forgets about the questioning looks of strangers digging into his back. All he sees is you. All he hears is the sigh of relief once he’s gone. And Jungkook is hasty as he reaches for you, relieved himself—relieved that he didn’t have to fight the fucker and alter the trust you have in him—needing you close, needing to gain back his control. He’s almost smiling uncomfortably at the ridiculous twist of events, but then the tug of his mouth stills.
You slip out of his grasp and move past him.
There’s silence within Jungkook’s ribcage. Not one beat or flutter, not one kick.
Nothing.
***
Knocking back shots after shots, Jungkook remains silent. Doesn’t answer any of his hyung’s questions. Doesn’t look at any of the girls who sashay to Hobi’s thigh to chitchat. His gaze merely remains fixed on the empty glass of the chaser he never had the chance to pour you. 
Your shot of the dark liquor is also left untouched. 
It’s the twinge of pity he feels that gives the order to his feet to rise. Hobi grabs his arm, long fingers digging into the hard leather of his jacket. Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate his stare, despite its heavy energy. Keeps his head low instead. 
“Give her more time,” Hobi says, lugging him down to a seated position but Jungkook untangles out of his grip. 
Grabs a bottle of soju as he mutters, “half an hour is more than enough.” 
He makes a way through the corridor towards the door you slinked into, the translucent bottle swinging by his jean-clothed thigh. Doesn’t knock on the wood, instead walks straight in as if he owned the place.
You’re sitting by the foot of the bed. The yellowness of the subdued bedside lamp drapes your sagged shoulders in gold, filtering through your hair that obscures your face. You had taken off your shoes and they lie crooked and alone by your stocking-clad feet. Jungkook wonders if that’s how you feel. 
His weakness caused by the unfortunate events and the sadness engulfing you stops him from moving a step closer to you as he beholds your puny form, but Jungkook fights it—fights for you. He needs to be in control. Of his own body and emotions, no matter how strenuous he finds it. He needs to be strong—and he needs to be strong for you to make things right.
He clicks the door shut behind him. As he walks towards you, he opens the bottle of soju with the firmness of his phone and takes a long sip. Settles in between your legs on the ground, crossing his legs at the ankles. Probs you on the calf to make his presence known to you, cooing your name. 
You sniff your nose, gathering your hair to the side, curling the shorter pieces behind your ear. Your face glistens from the rivers of tears he wasn’t there to wipe away, cheeks flushed from all the onrush of emotions that wasn’t of the coy or sensuous kind he likes so much. The hard stone of his heart cracks at your broken countenance and the back and forth swipe of his fingers on the nylon of your stocking grows more tender the more he takes in your sadness. He wishes to inhale it, rid you of it once and for all. Thinks it doesn’t belong to you. Wants to fight the guy, make you laugh—make a fool out of himself—and make love to you. Wants all of those things at the same time, but he realizes he can’t tear himself apart.
He decides being here is enough. He can fix whatever has been broken here in Hobi’s room. 
“This is so fucked up, Jungkook.” 
You’re the first one to break the silence and it takes a slight weight off of his shoulders. Jungkook hums, prompts you to speak further on what hurts your heart. Wraps his entire hand around the muscle of your calf, thumb tracing figures of eight on your skin. 
The warmth helps you look him in the eye, but you don’t say anything else. 
Jungkook figures it’s his turn.
“I wouldn’t let him touch you,” he says softly, hand drifting down to cradle the heel of your lifted foot. You’re mine, he doesn’t add. 
Your mouth rounds once again in a wave of emotion that clutches you. You don’t let the tears fall, looking up to the ceiling so the little pearls don’t trickle out of your tear ducts. Jungkook notices puffy marks of darkness under your bottom lashes, where he swore he saw thin pathways of glitter, small shooting stars traveling around the globe of your eyes. They’re nowhere to be found now, you’ve rubbed them away. 
“I know, it’s not about that.” You sniff, hands hooking under the hem of your skirt just to have something to hold onto, to busy your fingers a little—as if he wasn’t right there. “I think I kinda get you know.” 
Jungkook makes a sound that asks you to enlighten him, taking a swig of the sweet liquor to aid him in forgetting what he didn’t say. But the more he drinks, the more he remembers—the more his feelings splutter to life. It’s like he didn’t drink a drop at all. 
“I never understood why you need to be in control all the time,” you start, fixing your gaze on his. “But I finally did when that guy had his arms around me and wouldn’t let go. I wished I had even a small bit of control in that moment when I was alone. I hated feeling like I had to endure it when all I wanted to do was run away.” You break apart at your last words and Jungkook’s world crumbles in his hands. 
There’s chaos in his mind. A chaos of selfish nature that wants to prove you wrong because no, he doesn’t have any control when it comes to you, when you’re dressed, perfect and broken altogether. He doesn’t have shit—he’s nothing. A complete mess. And perhaps it’s his bruised heart that acts out despite this self-pitying mayhem grappling him, shutting it out into eternal darkness, for Jungkook doesn’t even know how he does it when he pulls you down onto his lap by a careful drag of your legs and encases you within the heated snugness of his arms.
He doesn’t even understand his own words when he says, “You can take all of mine. It’s yours.”
Jungkook doesn’t care about anything at all because when you start to sob into his shoulders, he breaks along with you—bursts at the seams completely. 
“I know you were scared, but that won’t happen again. Not when I give you all of my control.” His words are smooth amidst the stream of his liquid emotions and Jungkook is glad for it—glad to be a pillar you can lean on. He imagines transferring all of his being, not just his control, to you like a blanket draping around your shoulders, so the situation never happens again. 
His tears soak your hair strands and they carry his sorrowful kiss to the crook of your neck. He doesn’t want to utter a sound, wants to remain strong, but his heavy exhales betray him, wafting against you as he tightens his grip around your violently shuddering body in effort to soothe it. Considers this moment to be yours alone, doesn’t want to be selfish. Wants to be there for you.
“You helped me when I saw you,” you say against his skin, the sound muffled but he hears you—tightens his lips in a firm line in order not to wail. “When I saw that you were there, I was strong enough to push him away. You were my backup, Jungkook.” 
He agrees with a soft sound, rocking you back and forth as he cradles you. Leans his head against the side of yours, shielding you from the world and its wickedness. 
Your cries quieten. “But I want to be strong even when you’re not there.” 
Jungkook strokes your hair, understands you even when it pains him—his attachment to you pulled so taut he fears it’ll break. “You’re strong now. I gave you my control, didn’t I?”
To his surprise, you nod. 
After you pull away to breathe and Jungkook sweeps your tears away with his thumb, he’s smothered with the reminder that he made a promise to himself—a promise that is on the brink of being fulfilled. 
The walls close in on him, but he doesn’t care. He promised to keep things casual until he bursts. He refuses to go another day pretending you’re just a friend he feels nothing for. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the heavily charged emotions that make the decision for him, but he simply doesn’t care about the outcome anymore. The truth has to come out into the light. 
Jungkook calls you by your name. Brushes your hair back so he can look properly in the faded lush of your eyes; cradles your face in his hands like that. You call him by his name as well, whispering it into the shadows of the room. Such a soft, silky sound that puts pink plasters over the cracks in his heart. He says your name in the same intonation just to get a taste of liberty. 
“I’m yours,” he confesses, a lump forming in his throat, and he’s too late to blink the tears away. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you; since the moment you laid your hands on me. Yours for the taking. My heart, my control—it’s all yours.”
The bridge constricting his throat collapses when you give him a look of endearment, your features softening, rounding in emotion. Jungkook watches as a tear rolls down your cheek; feels an identical one going down the same path on his own skin, fiery and hot. 
“I’m sorry.” He breaks into sobs—and break, break, break is all he does. “I’m sorry if you wanted to stay casual, but I can’t… and-and I can’t let you go. I can’t let anyone else have you.” 
You bunch the material of his wife-beater in your fists under his jacket, mewling tender weeping sounds. Jungkook bites his lip to prevent himself from spilling in your hands, needing you to say something, anything, so he can straighten his back and call it a night. You bury your head in his chest  and Jungkook lulls you to calmness while needing it himself. He suddenly feels alone. Alone and crooked like your shoes, as if he said the wrong thing, as if he didn’t deserve any reassurement, any love for what he just did—
You mumble something into his skin. 
His heart jumps. 
“I didn’t catch that, baby.” 
You lift your head, clutching the sides of his neck. “I like you, too, Jungkook.” 
Your words tell him a lot of things. 
He didn’t make a mistake tonight. He didn’t do anything bad, didn’t lose you for the rest of his life. He will see that pucker of yours for the months to come, your glitter and all your shooting stars will be there to guide him home. 
And the other thing is—he fell for you first. Because while you like him, he absolutely and irrevocably loves all of who you are. 
He smiles at you, though. The bridge takes the heft on his shoulders along with it and disperses into nothingness. He wants to thank you. He wants to thank you for the kindness you expressed towards him, for your hands that hold him. And he does by kissing you, by inhaling you, taking away all your sadness and the bad events that caused it. 
“You mean a lot to me,” you say against his lips, pretty wet eyelashes fluttering. Jungkook feels their dewiness; wants to feel yours, too. There’s a pout to his mouth as he listens to you. “You changed my life. You make it better.” He nods at your words, senses them opening a window in his heart to let the fresh air in. “I don’t ever wanna lose you, Gguk. You’re too important.” 
He almost says it. Those three words. But he keeps them stored within the now brisk chamber of his heart, full of spring. Flowers grow, in place of the plasters. 
Jungkook caresses your cheek. “I want to make you forget.” 
You beam at him—and there he feels it, the pulse of his heart, its song and its steady, balmy notes. 
“Make me forget about tonight, please.” 
He kisses you, adds in a million tiny pecks in between, sliding his tongue inside your mouth in brief greeting. His fingers blindly find the bottle of Soju and when he withdraws with a pop, he presents it to you. 
“Look at what I got you,” Jungkook says, chuckling. 
You wrap your hand around his on the bottle and he tips it to your mouth, helping you drink it. You widen your eyes at him when he wants you to drink more than you do, and he lowers his hand with a grin. Loves those eyes of yours. Loves your mouth as he wipes it clean with his thumb. 
It’s lighthearted, the state of his emotions. He had tasted liberty by fondly mimicking your intonation, but now it courses through his veins, now it’s his. He feels so very glad to be alive at this moment and he wants to celebrate in the only way he knows he can. 
“I got you another thing as well, but it’s back home,” Jungkook says. “I can’t drive but we can take an Uber.” 
“Let’s go.” 
Jungkook straps your heels, fixes your skirt and swipes his thumbs under your eyes to rid you of black mascara stains. Offering you his hand, you take his pinky and ring finger and he leads you out of the room with you following behind. He skims the living room to find Hobi but, again, he’s nowhere in sight until you tap his shoulder and point to the right side of the corridor. Hobi is rising to his feet from sitting on the stairs. The thought of his hyung staying around for him instead of enjoying the party squeezes his heart in gratitude. He hugs him and when it’s your turn to say your goodbye, Hobi pulls you in for a hug as well, rubbing your back as he asks you if you’re okay. 
The soju remains in your hand. Sitting on the curb outside, both of you finish it while waiting to be picked up with Jungkook’s hand on your thigh and rough kisses shared in between. The wind doesn’t dare to disturb the intimacy, but watches on with a fond care, the stars hanging low, peeking through to witness at least one good thing of the night. 
***
“If this breaks me out, I’m gonna kill you.” 
Jungkook is carefully tender as he drags the makeup wipe along the perimeters of your cheeks, scowling at the sun-filled tint coloring the whiteness of the wet cloth. He had spent half an hour choosing the right brand in the drugstore earlier in the morning because he decided you were going to sleep over without telling you, reading each small letter on the packaging, despite the fact he understood shit. 
You’re still clothed and so is he, resting in the middle of the comfort of his bed as he hovers above you, knees perched at the foot of the bed. The aching ball of your own foot grazes the bulge in his intimate parts and Jungkook himself is at wonder how he’s able to focus when it stimulates all of his senses, adding heat to his body. 
“It’s Korean, it won’t break you out,” he mutters, swiping along the underside of your eye with extra care. 
“I once had a toner that—”
Jungkook covers your mouth with his palm. “It’s Korean,” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you. 
You giggle and he drops his glower, beaming down at you. 
“You know I can do it myself. I’m not that drunk.”
He focuses on your forehead now, cleaning off your foundation and all those sparkles. 
“I know you can, but let me.”
You babble on and Jungkook decides he’s had enough of it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m gonna shut you up.” 
He dumps the makeup wipe on your face and rummages through his bedside drawer. While you use it to cleanse off your neck, Jungkook spoils your surprise and opens your present. Is discreet as he smuggles it between your legs, pressing it against your clothed clit. 
The soft vibrations spread throughout his whole hand. He increases the intensity. 
You freeze, flicking your eyes to his, makeup wipe long forgotten. You roll your hips against the toy. 
“Oh my god.” 
Serves you fucking right. 
“Keep talking,” Jungkook mutters. “Hm, keep fucking talking and dare to come.” 
It’s maniacal, his laugh, but gentle and amorous in nature because he fucking loves you, loves to tease you, loves to make you feel good—show your body new things that it willingly accepts. You wiggle your hips, chasing the pleasure, mouth fallen open, emitting tiny satiny legato whimpers, which cause his cock to twitch in his pants—so much that he begins to move the purple toy all around your femininity while palming himself. He notices your lack of babbling. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks in feigned sympathy. “You suddenly have nothing to say?” 
You smile at him, and it stops everything. The roleplay of his mean dominance, the vibrations buzzing his hand. He turns the toy off and is straightforward as he says, “undress.” 
Does so himself.
He takes off his leather jacket and unbuttons his pants; watches you as you drag the skirt down those hips he wants nothing more than to kiss and hold in his hands. When it pools around your knees, he chucks the material behind him. You hook your thumbs beneath the waistband of your stockings and Jungkook thinks about how he’d like to tear them apart and make you lose your mind through the hole he’d create as he strokes the outer side of your thigh. He wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but he just can’t help it.
You rouse it him and he just listens. 
His hands are quick as they rip a hole above the center of your rosily pink panties. He smirks at your shocked gasp, so short and dry, drawing close to your pussy, kissing her, nuzzling his face in her. The tension in his intimate parts is almost unbearable when you run your hands through his hair and incite him to do more. He licks over the tiny wet spot on the frail material that he’s the artist of, adding to it, and watches the roll of your eyes because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. It’s a dance what your hips do, the most unkind torture and he longs to squeeze them.
He’s a good boy when it comes to listening to his body’s desires. 
Making a way through the beige hole, ripping it further in the process, he grabs the supple skin, thumbs fondling over your hip bones. So small, so delicious. Jungkook licks his lips, pushes your underwear to the side to reveal your dewy little seashell—fixes it so it stays put. Looks up at you. “Top off. I wanna see those pretty tits.” 
You’re a good girl, too, when it comes to obeying his wishes. 
A praiseful coo ripples out of his mouth once you reveal your black padded bra. Jungkook decides he wants it to be in line of his sight, so he lowers the straps down your arms and merely tugs the undergarment below your breasts. The spillage and the ripple of their fullness almost makes him die right then and there. Jungkook bites his bottom lip until he draws blood.
Two hindrances. The silky straps on your arms, the stockings he will soon lower down your thighs. Jungkook curses under his breath; thinks he should’ve gotten the ropes he was eyeing after his drugstore run. Pink and rough, just the kind you would’ve liked. 
Perhaps it isn’t needed for the lovemaking he longs for with you. Playtime and lovemaking are two different things, he concludes. 
He’s so horny he might lose his mind first. And he does—with nose pressed against your sternum, babbling nonsense while he buries his head in your tits. Inhaling your vanilla and tuberose scent, he kisses the valley leading up to the peak of your stiffened nub, trails it with his tongue, goes the extra mile to suck it into his mouth, hearing its call. He’s just listening—listening to your body language that asks for him. His eyes are blurry when he gazes at you. You’ve fled to the pink planet again, but he wants you here with him. While he flicks your nipple with his nimble tongue, he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks. Would die for your adorableness. Would go to war for it, a thousand times over. 
Jungkook sucks the nub to make your travel back to Earth faster and he accomplishes what he wants. With a roll of your body and a moan, you’re back, looking down at him, cradling him, brushing his hair back. He makes sure you see the way he toys with your nipple—keeps his mouth open as he circles it, flicks it before he sucks it back inside. 
“Stay here with me,” Jungkook mumbles, switching to the other nipple. “Please.” 
You nod, grinding your hips against his stomach. Another call. Your hands slide lower to his neck and Jungkook understands you want more. 
“Take control of me, baby,” he says. “Flip me over.” 
Your breath is shaky. A light flickers in your eyes, glints like his saliva adorning your nipple in the yellow dimness of the room. You grab a hold of his neck with your one hand like he does to you every time while the other comes around his shoulder and you push him to his back in one swift motion.
Jungkook feels proud. You learn well from him. So studious, so smart, so cute.
You straddle his hips and Jungkook begins to trace your thighs, fingertips gliding back and forth on the nylon, until he grips your hips—and grips them hard. He forces you down on the bulge of his cock, hissing at the pleasure rising up his abdomen. He feels your dewiness against the material of his boxers soaking it through. He guides your hips in a steady but firm rhythm and once you familiarize yourself with it and hump him on your own, he brushes his fingers across your wet nipples. The sensation sends you toppling back, spine arched as you ride him like you rode his Hello Kitty plushie, but Jungkook keeps his fingers on those two little nubs. Your tits bounce and slap against each other and he just follows their movement, squeezing, grazing, leading you to the burst of your climax. When he lets go, you lower your body enough for him to nuzzle his face in them, moving you to the tip of his cock that peeks out of his boxers. The contact of your little soaked clit with his oozing arousal makes Jungkook moan into your skin, and he feels his balls tighten. 
He lets you know by squeezing your arm, as if his furrowed brows, flushed face and the planes of his forehead shining in a layer of sweat weren’t indicating the matter enough. 
You enjoy every second of the torment you bestow upon him, back upright now, fingertip playing with his navel.
Even more so as you flip around and ride him reverse cowgirl style, the nylon of your stockings stretched taut over your ass. Jungkook feels faint.
You’re wearing a thong that is but a thin fabric and would cover absolutely nothing if it were in its right place. He can see your little puckered hole that he’s very hungry for, starved actually, with each backward movement you make. He yanks his boxers down, granting you access to paint his manhood with the loveliness of your shiny dewiness. Grunts at the sloppiness of your flesh gliding back and forth as you toy with his ballsack. On the top of his cock, your juices mix with his—creating a pretty, pretty palette. 
The way your pussy lips barely wrap around his girth, your little breaths and sobs—Jungkook can’t take it. White flashes in his eyesight, the build up of his orgasm nearing the end.
“You feel so good,” you murmur, flicking your hair behind your shoulders as you arch your back, your hair like a waterfall cascading down your spine. 
Jungkook pulls on it, halting your torture. “You’re gonna make me come,” he purrs. “What a waste that would be—for me to come all over my pants like a teenager when your cunnie is right here.” 
He rips your stocking further to reveal more of your ass. Pushes you towards his face until you’re sitting on it and—
He devours you. 
You cry out. The sound propels him to tighten his grip around the small of your back, to quicken the shakes of his head while his tongue stimulates your engorged clit, occasionally flicking against the muscle to hear more of your little noises. Your palm feels up his wet shaft and Jungkook rewards you for being such a good girl that thinks of her Daddy by taking your bundle between his lips and sucking it. Your body quivers, plays tag with his tongue and Jungkook growls, your taste the sweetest thing he’s had all week and he can’t get enough. Needs more, needs…
“Fuck yourself on my tongue.” 
He guides you. Spanks you when you find him. And the sobs you let out, interlaced with the naughtiest of whimpers, make him ache. Your walls press against him—stars fill his vision—and he can’t breathe. Needs you to come, needs a release himself, needs to taste your tiny hole that has never been touched before. 
His hand extends for the purple toy, keeping it on the low setting. He presses it against your clit and the way you tighten around him lets him know you’re soaring; mere seconds away from ascending fully to the pearly gates. 
Jungkook lets you reach your climax on your own, even though his hands itch to grab you and invigorate your thrusts. He wants you to have full control; wants you to get a heady taste of that liberty. 
Wants you to get used to it. 
You slow down your movement and Jungkook hears your cry first before your body begins to convulse. He holds you through your orgasm whilst he rubs the vibrator all over your clit and is ever so fucking mesmerized when he catches your pussy drooling and clenching. 
He aches—aches badly to be inside of you. 
Ridding you entirely of the mere cobwebs that your stockings have become, Jungkook holds your panties in place. His tongue darts out to swipe at your trickling hole, drags it past your skin across the other hole he’s yearning for. He feels you clench; he hears the litany of your incoherent words as you take in the new pleasure. He doesn’t touch your clit—he knows how sensitive it is after such an intense orgasm, so he just drags his tongue up and down both of your holes, swirling around the tight entrance. 
When he penetrates you there, you scream. 
You scream a bunch of yes’ in a row and Jungkook imagines your eyes are rolling back like they always are—imagines a grin on that fucked-out face of yours, eyelashes fluttering and wet with liquid emotions. It drives him to drill his tongue there in faster staccatos, moaning against you; the entirety of his bloodstream flowing to his intimate parts. He’s so hard he might burst, length heavy and solid against his stomach, but it brings him a great deal of pleasure to have you open like this, to taste you in a place no one has ever touched before, to give you a new experience that you’ll remember for a long time and possibly beg him for again. 
He sighs against you, drinking you to relax his jaw. Is drunk on the moment, probably enjoys it more than you do. 
You begin riding his face and he just offers you his tongue. Lets you do whatever you want. 
“Feels so fucking good, Jungkook, oh my god.”
You’re fast now and Jungkook feels proud of you. You’re taking charge, chasing your pleasure. His heart skips a beat when you want him in your ass again, and he willingly obliges, fucking you there until the tremor of your body signals him of the thunder of your approaching orgasm. 
You come on his tongue violently. Shuddering, screaming, leaving his neck, mouth, chin and cheeks wet. Dewiness for tears—he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Turning around, you don’t let him breathe before you grab his face and kiss him, licking into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your own rich flavor. Jungkook reciprocates all of your kisses and swipes of your tongue, doesn’t try to dominate you but instead revels in the nasty kiss, bucking his hips against your heat. So slippery, so fleshy. He grunts into your mouth.
When Jungkook sees your blissed-out face, he grins at you. Is blissed-out himself. “How’s that?” he asks. “You have all of my control. All of it.”
Your voice is hoarse when you say, “so fucking amazing, thank you,” and grin down at him just the same. 
Joy beats through his chest, illuminating him from within as if he had his own tapestry of the whole night sky right there above his heart. 
You sink lower down his thighs and pepper kisses along the length of his sticky cock. The gesture moves him and he lets you stay there for a moment while he briefly ponders over how a paralyzing form of pain led him to such a pure, expanding joy that he feels right now. 
Tears well up in his eyes. 
“Come here,” Jungkook pleads and you lift your head like a puppy. 
He decides that he doesn’t want any restrictions on your body anymore. Each move of his hand is calculated as he unclips your bra and tugs your stockings, along with your underwear, down your legs. Even his own clothes come off in a blink of an eye because all he wants is skin to skin contact, to be connected with you on the deepest, most raw level that there is. 
There’s a bit of nervousness coating his voice when he asks you to ride him due to his vulnerability. And when he feels the beginning of you, your heat encompassing him like the warm wind he last had grazing his body in his summer childhood days, the tears that loom in his eyes rush out. 
It feels like he’s back in those days, but only this time all things are made right. But he can’t lie his head down in that tall grass of his childhood and escape—not when you struggle to take him from the angle you’re not used to.
He doesn’t think he ever let you ride him. Not even once. He apprehends you don’t know how to go about it. 
“I know it hurts from this angle, but you can take it,” he says, willing his voice to be smooth as if he wasn’t crying at all—is thankful for the dimness that obscures his vulnerability from you. “You’ve taken me before, you can do it. Relax for me, sweetheart.”
You clench around him, stay frozen on the spot, and Jungkook can’t see. Filmy vision, emotions hurling at him like an incoming surge of waves. But all of that takes a step back when you mewl a pained noise and let yourself fall on his chest, his cock only a quarter of the way in. 
“I’m scared. It’s too sensitive, it hurts.”
You shift your hips so he slips out of you. Jungkook kisses your forehead, wraps an arm around you while the other travels further down, below the roundness of your cheeks. Makes sure you look at him as he says, “don’t be scared, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. There’s no rush. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you.” 
He looks at you for a long while—recognizes only some of your features in the dark—and so do you whilst he lulls you into a state of serenity by humming a song his mother sang to him during those summer days, by petting your head ever so fondly. He never realized how broken his inner child truly was until you kiss his tears away—see them, alas—and the boy inside him leaps into the sun-breathed air of the past. Grows into a young man with a dream in his heart and pensive thoughts beneath the thick set of black hair. Transforms into an adult man with love for a dream instead, for all that has become of his ambitions is the desire to be loved, to be wanted. 
Dream or desire, none of it matters now because all of it, in a strange way that heals him, intermingles with each exhale of your breath against his cheek—and with the inch you think you’re ready to take—all of it is fulfilled. 
A dream come true. A desire gratified. 
You’re his and he is yours. And he tells you. 
You kiss him everywhere. Nose, cheeks, neck. Grab his bunny plushie and tuck him into the crook of his elbow. Jungkook holds onto him as you take another inch, other hand holding his shaft as you sink down little by little, stopping whenever it gets too much. 
“You’ve always taken it so well,” he murmurs onto your pained expression, unable to take his eyes off of you. “I was made for you. It’s yours, baby. It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.” 
You clench at his words and the noise that you squeak makes him grunt onto your lips.
“That’s right, baby. I’m so proud of you for trying to take me so well like this when your little pussy is so sensitive from my tongue. You deserve to be rewarded, don’t you?” 
The smile blossoming on your mouth is dangerous with its coyness but confidence at the same time. He falls in love with you all over again, feels the tall grass of his childhood bending over his head, sifting through his hair. 
“I’m doing it for you,” you say. “I want to make you feel good.” 
A hum of appreciation. A kiss full of tongue. “Throw your hips back a little. Just like when we dance.” 
He’s not fully sheathed inside of you, but he feels your gummy walls smothering the half of his length and it’s enough. He doesn’t want to hurt you by filling you to the brim—he’s heedful even as he guides your hips with his hands, rolling them back as if you were grinding against him. Both of you danced like that many times before and because you know the move, you’re comfortable once you latch onto his hands and lift them, intertwining your fingers with his, pinning them down onto the mattress. Your hips gain speed, bouncing on him as your chest lifts a little, hovers above him and the bunny in the middle of his stomach, and Jungkook doesn’t let himself feel pleasure until your eyes lid and turn to the ceiling.
“That’s it, you’re doing so good. You’re a fucking”—Jungkook whines at the impact of a distinct hard slam of your hips down on his—“pro. My little fucking pro. Doing so good for me.”
He’s losing it and it’s so quick. The change of energy in the room, the arousal rising like fine dust in the air. All because his words nourished you with confidence that blazes the atmosphere around the bed. It’s just you, him and bunny in this microcosm and Jungkook longs to hold onto the plushie. Feels so much like you when he’s the one in control; feels as though you’ve become one in this emotionally charged act. He can’t differentiate between himself and you anymore. 
He’s simply become you because he loves you. Or has been you the whole time due to that very fact. Perhaps loving someone truly means becoming them because what you learn from them, what you mimic from them is perpetually yours.
An awareness of how tired you must be drifts across his mind. He knows that with each excellent performance comes the burning of the muscles so without thinking twice, he maneuvers you to his favorite position—remaining on his lap with your back against his chest and bunny stacked on top of you. He takes the lead but lets you decide the pace. You’re the boss. “Fast or slow?” 
“Fast.” 
Jungkook hums, raising a brow. “Fast? Cunnie isn’t sensitive anymore?” 
You shake your head ‘no’, propping an arm behind his neck. “I want it fast.” 
It’s simultaneous—the deed of two hands, yours and his, grabbing a hold of the fluffy belly of the plushie, fingers traveling and interlocking without a thought, without a direction, and yet meeting. Like two shooting stars. Like the ones you wear under your bottom lashes. 
One person. One mind, one heart. 
Jungkook taps your belly button with the tip of his cock. You laugh softly. He remembers how wide your eyes were in fear when you sat upright on his lower stomach and could clearly see how far he reached inside of you. 
“Ready?” he asks. 
“Yes.” 
He sinks his length into your warmth. The grass, the caress of the summer wind. You’re the personification of his childhood and Jungkook kisses you hard, tells you of it by the press of his lips on yours. Is ruthless as he ruts into you. His free hand clutches the vibrator and finds your clit under the small dangling legs of bunny. The low intensity is but a thrum, though by the gasps you emit, by the moans that rise in echoes within the atmosphere, he deduces it’s good. 
Smugness returns, hand in hand with his control. He presses the toy harder against you, rubbing it side to side—and this time he doesn’t stop. 
He doesn’t stop fucking you. 
Vigorous with strength, empowered by the free rein of his emotions that were accepted and loved, he pistons his hard cock into that tightness of yours, regardless whether you can handle it or not. Feels right at home, feels—
“Who’s your Daddy?” he questions without slowing down the rhythm of his brutal pace. “Who’s fucking you this good?” 
You hum, licking your lips, and your confidence fucks with him, strips him bare of any sanity he had left. You give him the eyes, flick your tongue against his lips before you tilt your head to kiss him with a brief passion. “You are.”
Butterflies. 
Jungkook drops the vibrator on the bed. Has to touch you, has to grip you—and he does. His hand finds your throat and he squeezes, kissing you with the same passion, prolonging it because what you did wasn’t fair. He needs the passion; he needs to swallow it down and feel it course down his body. And when you give him just that, along with your luscious moans, he rewards you. 
Gives you all of his cock. 
He rams himself into you, balls deep. Repeats it over and over, each thrust harder than the one before. Watches your irises disappear from your eyes, mouth agape, voice gone. Jungkook senses you’re leaving planet Earth again and he stops you. 
“Is this Daddy of yours your boyfriend now?” 
Like a bell, his heart is clanging and the freedom in that sentence losing its principle of ever being a risk causes his eyes to fill with tears again. He’s a mess. His emotions are a mess. But he’s so happy. 
And the smile you give him due to that question—it charges him with the longing power to own it, own you, so he grabs you everywhere. Your chin, your cheeks, your mouth, and you never stop smiling, not even when you say, “he is my boyfriend now, you got a problem with that?” 
The chuckle that rumbles out of his chest is a surprise to him because dizziness takes a hold of his entire being. He’s gone—he’s about to die. This is it. 
He kisses you and the act of your lips wrapping around his makes this so much more real. He squeezes you and bunny in his arms, hips grinding his circles now. “Does it hurt when I’m this deep?” he murmurs. 
“No, feels good.” 
“Let me know if it starts hurting, alright?” 
You nod, pecking him, gripping his hair. 
Jungkook lets go of your hand and slowly lifts you up and down on the hardness of his cock from behind. You’re so light in his hands, like a little angel assigned to his side, just his to play with. You tip your head back, the smile of yours having bloomed into a full grin. Jungkook watches you in awe. 
“Look at you riding me. You don’t need any help.” 
You giggle. Jungkook feels his cheeks fire up. Thinks the sound is angelic, it must be. Thinks the squelch of your pussy taking him, leaving him dewy, is angelic, too. 
It makes him stop playing with you and fuck you properly instead. 
He sits up. Angles your head so your lips touch his, but he doesn’t kiss you. He wants you there so you swallow all of the words that will come off his tongue, so you remember them even when the delirium wears off. 
He pounds into you. 
You’re no longer smiling. 
Takes the vibrator again. Provokes you, just because he can’t help it, by turning up the intensity and letting it only float above your clit, never letting it touch you. He’s not fast as he fucks you. On the contrary, his thrusts are hard. 
Merciless. 
He feels evil when he removes the toy completely, makes sure you watch, and presses it down into the softness between bunny’s legs. He turns your head back to face him and he mimics your moans, scrunches his features in pleasure, giving life to the plushie—acting for her.
But his meanness makes you come and you fall apart in his hands. He feels bad, terribly bad for you, and the feeling begins to consume his insides—so much that he gives you the pleasure he denied you mid climax. He presses the toy against your clit and—
You’re gone. 
Your stream of pleasure forces him out of you and it makes him moan loudly. It makes him moan when he rubs the vibrator all over your absolutely drenched cunt and you just keep coming. And it makes him moan when you beg him to keep fucking you. 
Who is he to say no to you? 
“You just want it bad, don’t you?” 
You nod against his head. Gone, gone, gone. He follows you into that rabbit hole, pounding you rough and fast this time, keeping you caged against him, fingers back in an intricate interlock. You smother him with your femininity and Jungkook is perpetually at wonder how you manage to do that, how you manage to never have enough. It makes him lose his fucking mind, lose everything—lose his identity. He just blurs into you. The stars in his chest pour like liquid into your ribcage. He feels them quivering when he touches your breasts all over. Wonders if you’ll come again for him. 
“Pussy molded just for me, hm, isn’t it?” he breathes. Hot, sweaty, on the brink of insanity. White flashes. Balls tight. Dizziness stealing his senses. “Good little pussy, always wanting more.” 
The air grows dense. 
“Mine,” he growls, voice strained—so close, so fucking close. “My pussy. Mine to fuck. Mine to eat. Mine to love—”
His gut tenses. Flames burn it hot. Time stops. Knuckles turn ivory in the feverish grip of your fingers upon bunny’s tummy; your walls, too, splattered in magnificent white. Jungkook fucks his cum into you, once, twice, for the last time—pumping you full. Giving you all that he has. 
He falls limp against his pillows. The toy buzzes on upon the comforter, long abandoned. 
His exhaustion doesn’t let him open his eyes. Not when his eyes sting with tears once more, not even when your warmth leaves his manhood. He knows you didn’t come this time around, however he doesn’t have the strength to fix it. His vigor oozed out of him and nestled within you—like his control, like his love, like his cum. 
He will make it up to you tomorrow morning. 
Now he needs sleep. He needs the tears to halt their hurting by leaking out of the inner corners of his eyes. Would prefer if you weren’t the witness to it because with his vigor departing, his vulnerability heightened. He’s ashamed of the sea of his feelings, but there’s nothing he can do to change that. He just loves you. 
He’s so happy that he’s yours and he fucked you so good and—
“You tired, baby?” 
You sound just like him. 
Jungkook suppresses his sob, swallows it right down. 
“I’m spent.” Too emotional. “Too spent to wash up.”
He feels a kiss on his nose, the comforter lifting, small warm hands on his body as he’s being tucked into his bed. Jungkook lies on his side. Feels too lonely. As if you had insight into his soul, you settle into the spaces of his form that you know are there for you to hide in. 
With a barrier in between. 
You push bunny’s back against his chest. Click the lamp off.
In the darkness, Jungkook allows his lungs to expand in their silent weeping. Finds bunny, finds your arm. Moves you closer until the plushie serves like a heart in the middle of your bodies. Fingers petting your hair, he allows another thing—
“I love you.” 
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the-panda-queen · 2 months
Text
Brothers Favorite Sleeping Positions w/ You
cw: slightly suggestive with some, gn reader, some can be read platonically
Part 2 here
Lucifer: Loves to sleep face to face. Will wrap his arms and legs around you and nestle his face in your hair/ on the top of your head. Will grumble if you try to switch to spooning. He wants to wake up and see your beautiful face. (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.
If you’re the type of person to wake up in the middle of the night for a lil snack just know he converted one of his nightstands into a mini fridge. He might pretend it’s always been that way but seeing it’s filled with all of your favorites you’ll see through his ruse easily. If you need to go to the bathroom he’ll let you go and stay awake til you get back before nestling into you again. Take too long and he’ll go looking for you.
Mammon: Big fan of spooning. While he does eat up being the little spoon, he likes being the big spoon more. He’ll tuck one arm under your head and rest his hand on your chest, giving it a lil squeeze while his other arm goes over your waist and hand rests on your pelvis. He’s not trying to seduce you, he just finds it comforting.
Leaving for a midnight snack or bathroom is difficult. He won’t wake up but whine and grumble once you leave his grasp. Once you come back to bed he wraps around you immediately as if trying to fuse with your skin. Good luck if you try to leave again.
Also he runs even warmer in his sleep so if you’re feeling a bit hot get ready to sweat buckets cause he sure as heck ain’t lettin go twice. (;′⌒`)
Leviathan: Once he’s comfortable enough to share a bed or his tub he’ll wrap his tail around you and hold you close. You have a bit more freedom in the position you want to sleep in. He’ll just snuggle in any way you let him. If you sleep in his tub it’s a mess of arms, legs, and tail being wrapped in.
He keeps snack in his room already so if you get hungry there’s no reason to leave. You’re close enough to share a sleeping space with him so he’ll definitely have your favorite snacks too. Going to get the snacks he’ll subconsciously shift into his demon form to elongate his tail so it can still wrap around you. If you need to go to the bathroom his tail obviously cannot follow. Will definitely cry in his sleep thinking you left him. (╥﹏╥) Hurry back!
Satan: Likes to fall asleep with you resting your head on his chest and running his fingers down your back. He’ll listen to the gentle sound of your breathing as you fall asleep then knock out himself soon afterwards.
Getting a snack or going to the bathroom in the middle of the night isn’t a hassle with him. He might shift a little in his sleep but not much else. In half awake state he’ll feel your side of the bed, if it’s gone cold you’ve been gone too long he’ll assume one of his brother has taken you and rush out of the room to track you down.
Asmo: Loves when you both sleep au naturale, you never know what could happen ;) -nothing will happen Asmo is very serious about his beauty rest especially on a school night plz don’t tease him it’s cruel T_T adores sleeping on your chest. He’ll listen to the steady thrumming of your heartbeat as he falls asleep while circling his arms around you.
Leaving his bed is difficult, your left arm is dead from him resting on it and his bedding is so soft and cushiony you have a hard time rolling out of it. Once you make it out Asmo has rolled to the middle of the bed with his body splayed out. (*  ̄︿ ̄) Good luck trying to get back in, you’d honestly just be better off going to your own room once you’ve gone to the bathroom/ had your snack. Sorry
Beel: Is very worried about hurting you in his sleep. You’re so fragile it scares him. Feels most confident in your safety if you're laying on top of him, like he's your bed. If you’re the type to sleep through the night he’ll do his best to ignore his stomach grumbling and also try to sleep through the night as well. Can generally hold off on waiting to eat in the morning if it’s for you. The brothers have mixed feelings on this arrangement, on one hand their snacks are less likely to “disappear” but that means you have to sleep with Beel.
If you wake up in the middle of the night for a snack or to go to the bathroom he’s stoked. Will gladly take you down to the kitchen with him and give you whosever snack is in the fridge, doesn’t matter who it belongs to. (* ̄▽ ̄)旦 且(´∀`*) If you try to deny the snack he’ll give you a soft smile and tell you he’ll take them blame so please eat. The brothers hate this arrangement even more. Will definitely try and stop the two of you from sleeping together.
Belphie: As long as he feels like he’s being the one pampered he’s fine. He likes when you both fall asleep face to face and he can snuggle into your chest. He’ll wraps himself around you and rest his tail along your back (canonically it has spikes in it so please be careful moving in your sleep, it will hurt if to try to lay on it).
Another one who’s difficult if you’re one who gets up in the middle of the night. His grip becomes a vice and you’re having to wrestle yourself free. Gasping you hurriedly run out of the room to do your business, even giving yourself another moment before making your way back. Once you come back though he’s quick to wrap around you once more. Will definitely mumble his grievances about your departure however brief. he might even bite you to teach you a lesson on leaving him <( ̄ ﹌  ̄)>
felt like it got kinda long towards to end but oh well.…should I do the rest of the cast next? lemme know!
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theostrophywife · 8 months
Text
stop the world i wanna get off with you.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader. song inspiration: stop the world i wanna get off with you by arctic monkeys. author’s note: the theo brain rot is so real for me besties. i kid you not i listened to the song on repeat while writing this because my mans is arctic monkeys coded. plus, it was only a matter of time before we saw some smutty action from my favorite slutherin 😏 part one: baby won't you be my girl?
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You were not a morning person. 
Theo knew that. Hell, everyone in Slytherin knew that. Waking you up before noon on the weekend was a one way ticket to a world of pain. For some reason, your boyfriend was determined to make the top of your hit list this morning. 
You groaned as Theo shifted beneath you, rousing you from sleep. He stroked your hair gently and pressed a kiss on your temple. “I have to go to practice, amorina.” 
Sunlight streamed in through the skylight above Theo’s dorm, reflecting the rippling waves of the Black Lake across your boyfriend’s goose down comforter. You buried your head in the crook of his neck. 
“Five more minutes,” you mumbled against his throat, relishing in his warmth. “Please, Teddy.”
A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “You said that five minutes ago, sweetheart. Do you want your sweet and sexy boyfriend to be maimed by his captain?”
“If Malfoy so much as touches a hair on your head, I’ll turn him into a ferret again and set him loose in the Forbidden Forest.” You snuggled closer and twined your legs together. “Let’s see how threatening he can be against Aragog.”
“Sometimes you genuinely scare me, Y/N.” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “But apparently, fear is a very effective aphrodisiac for me. I’m learning a lot of new things about myself.”
“I can threaten you some more if you want,” you murmured sleepily. “As long as you stay in bed with me, Teddy.”
Theo groaned as you kissed his neck. “You’re absolutely cruel, you know that?” He tilted your chin up, pressing his lips against yours. You sighed dreamily into the kiss, morning breath and all. 
Even though you’ve only been officially dating for three months, it felt like you and Theo had been together for a lifetime. You were already inseparable before, but after his confession at the quidditch game after party, you spent nearly every waking moment together. Hence waking up in his bed. 
Theo placed a final kiss on the tip of your nose. “Now I really have to go.” You sighed in defeat, pouting like a petulant child. Your boyfriend laughed. “I’ll see you in the stands, babe.”
“Fine,” you mumbled grumpily. 
You watched as Theo hastily threw on his quidditch uniform, admiring the view of his sunkissed skin and toned chest and abs. Thank Merlin for quidditch. 
The cheeky tosser winked before heading for the pitch. You turned over in bed, burying yourself in Theo’s scent as you drifted back to sleep. 
Several hours later, you finally managed to get dressed and dragged yourself to the Great Hall for a late lunch. When you got to your usual table, you found the boys and Pansy waiting for you. Draco and Mattheo were talking in hushed tones, no doubt discussing their strategy to destroy the Ravenclaws while Enzo scarfed down a plate of steak and eggs like his life depended on it. Pansy watched in disgust, wrinkling her nose at your friend. 
“For Salazar’s sake, Lorenzo. You’re going to choke to death and I refuse to resuscitate you.”
“Don’t worry, Enzo,” you said as you slid in next to him. “I’m sure we can find a volunteer to perform mouth to mouth on you.”
As if on cue, a gaggle of fourth years giggled at the end of the table. Enzo didn’t seem to notice. Beside him, Blaise met your eye and shook his head. The two of you often joked that Draco took all the arrogance in their family’s gene pool, leaving poor Enzo hopelessly oblivious. The fact that sweet Lorenzo was related to someone as arrogant as Malfoy never failed to completely baffle the mind. 
“Well don’t you look adorable, Y/N?” Draco drawled. “All decked out in your boyfriend’s jersey.”
You looked down at the emerald and silver jersey with the number 6 embroidered on the front, which was so big on you that the hem hit your knees. Matching streaks of your house colors adorned your cheeks and you had pulled your hair back with a pair of charmed serpent clips that writhed through your pigtails every so often.
“And up before mid afternoon, no less,” Mattheo commented. 
You frowned, flicking him off before reaching for a sandwich. “Speaking of my boyfriend. Where is the little rascal?”
“Last I checked he was still on the pitch,” Draco said as you stuffed a few chips into your mouth. “Practicing to show off in front of you, I imagine.”
“I’ve seen him play before.” 
Mattheo stole a chip from your plate. “Yes, but not as his girlfriend.”
You smacked his hand away and he gasped dramatically. Mattheo fetched something out of his robes and set it down in front of you. The small glass vial shimmered in the light. 
“Your boyfriend wanted me to give you this.” 
A motion sickness draught. Theo knew how queasy and nauseous you got during his quidditch games, so he’d concocted your own special cure for it. Hot and smart. Gods, you were lucky.
You flushed, pocketing the potion. “Thanks.”
“You idiots better win,” Pansy said. “Or else all my hard work for tonight’s after party will go to waste.”
Draco scoffed. “You mean our hard work?” He turned over to you, frowning. “Pans over here had us working harder than a house elf. I’ve got glitter in places glitter should never be.”
“Fitting for someone who thinks the sun shines out of his arse. Maybe it’ll finally teach you some humility, Malfoy.”
Mattheo draped an arm around your shoulder. “You know why our sweet little Pansy’s got her wand in a twist though, right?” He leaned in conspiratorially. “She finally plucked up the courage to invite a certain Ravenclaw to the after party.”
You squealed in delight. “Is that true, Pans? Did you finally ask Luna out?”
Pansy glared at you, practically hissing as she grabbed your elbow. “Say that a little louder, why don’t you? I don’t think they heard you across the room.” 
You snorted. Your best friend has always been a little tightly wound, but Pansy Parkinson with a crush was a whole different animagus. 
“Well, I, for one, am excited for this development in your love life,” you exclaimed, squeezing her shoulder. “It’s about time you did something about this little crush.”
“Says the witch who took twelve years to admit her feelings,” Pansy said with an affectionate eye roll. “Sorry love, but I’m not taking advice from you.”
“I’m choosing to attribute that to first date jitters and not a blatant insult against your best and most loyal friend.” You picked at your sandwich, waving a pickle in the air excitedly. “Don’t be nervous, Pans. She’s going to love you.” 
The encouragement was met with an elbow to your ribs. You paused mid-chew, ready to give Pansy a peace of your mind when a soft voice interrupted you. 
“Hi, guys,” greeted Luna Lovegood. She wore a striped blue and bronze sweater, representing the colors of her house. Strapped to her back was a set of feathered eagle wings that nearly dragged to the floor. “I love your snake clips, Y/N. It’s always great to see displays of house spirit. Beware of the nargles, though. They do love shiny things.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for them, Luna.” You said with a smile. “I’m looking forward to your commentary tonight. It’s going to be a heated match between our houses, but one thing’s for certain. The after party will be absolutely mental no matter who wins. Isn’t that right, Pans?” 
Pansy nodded, the action making her sleek bob graze her sharp cheekbones. You always thought that your friend possessed an austere sort of beauty, but everything about her seemed to soften as she turned her attention on Luna. 
“We can still count on you to make it tonight, right Lovegood?” There was a hint of playfulness in Pansy’s tone that you rarely heard her use. You couldn’t help but smirk. Pansy Parkinson fancied the absolute pants out of Luna Lovegood.
Luna smiled shyly, hiding beneath a strand of platinum blonde hair. “Thank you for the invitation, Pansy. I look forward to seeing everyone tonight.” 
“See you tonight, Luna.”
Luna gave your table a friendly wave before returning to her own fellow Ravenclaws. You waited until she was out of ear shot before bursting into a fit of giggles.
“See you tonight Luna,” you repeated, putting on your best impression of Pansy’s husky voice. “Pansy Parkinson’s totally going to snog Luna Lovegood tonight!” 
“Oh, shut up,” replied Pansy. She tried her best to look annoyed, but the small smile on her face made it rather unconvincing. 
After teasing your friend for at least another hour, the two of you finally headed down to the quidditch pitch. The boys left long ago, presumably to warm up before the big game. You followed Pansy into the stands, cringing slightly at how high up the seats were. 
Across the pitch, the feedback from Luna’s sonoroused voice rumbled through the crowd. “Welcome fellow students. Join me in kicking off this long awaited match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, the house of yours truly. As always, the goal is to provide live updates and unbiased commentary throughout the game, but I make no promises. Even a Corkendoodle wouldn’t be able to resist showing a little partiality. Now without further ado, let the games begin!”
The crowd roared as players from each side soared through the air at breakneck speed. You gripped the railing, thankful for Theo’s concoction as you squinted at the blur of players. As always, Madam Hooch kicked off the game by releasing a set of bludgers and the elusive golden snitch. With bated breath, you watched as she threw the quaffle into the air which marked the official start of the match. 
A familiar figure zoomed past you, emerald robes streaming behind him as he caught the quaffle and cradled it under his arm. Theo circled through the air, easily outmaneuvering the chasers from the opposing team. He flew straight for a blonde Ravenclaw, making the poor fifth year think that they were going to collide before he swerved at the last second and looped around the frightened player. 
“And that’s Nott of Slytherin with an excellent fake out,” Luna announced in her dreamy voice. “Oddly enough, this chaser is heading in the opposite direction of the goalposts. Another clever tactic, I presume.”
Theo brought his broom to a stop directly in front of you, hovering in mid-air while he cradled the quaffle underneath one arm. He immediately broke out into a grin when he saw you wearing his jersey. 
“In a turn of events, Nott visits the Slytherin stands for a little chat with his friends,” commented Luna. “Actually, that’s his lovely girlfriend Y/N. I did warn her about attracting the Nargles, but nevertheless those serpent clips are a work of art. Oh look, there’s Pansy Parkinson! I know she looks a bit intimidating at first, but she’s really quite nice.” 
Beside you, Pansy turned as red as a tomato. You stifled a giggle just as Theo pulled close, his watercolor eyes crinkling with amusement. 
“My jersey looks good on you, Y/N.” Theo drawled, taking the time to flirt despite the fact that he was currently in the middle of a game. He leaned in and whispered low so only you could hear, “But I bet it would look even better on my floor.”
“Win this match and you might get your wish, babe.”
A smirk curved against his lips. “You evil little temptress. I hope you know that I’m holding you to that,” he inched closer, his gaze dropping to your mouth. “Do I at least get a kiss from my good luck charm?”
You shook your head in disbelief. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something right now? Like, I don't know, playing the bloody quidditch game!”
He shrugged, winking at you in that cheeky way of his. “I’m perfectly capable of multitasking.” 
Just then, a bludger whizzed past the stands, but Theo was entirely unbothered as he flipped over on his broom to avoid the hit. Your boyfriend hung upside down, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. “Now about that kiss, dolcezza.”
“That’s quite a creative way to avoid a bludger,” Luna continued. “I once hung upside down in a tree in search of moon frogs and it wasn’t the most comfortable position, but not the most uncomfortable either. Oh! It looks like things are heating up for this lovely couple.”
“You’re an absolute menace, Theodore,” you said with an exasperated sigh before pulling him by the collar and kissing him. The logistics were complicated by the fact that he was currently airborne, but Theo smiled against your lips all the same. 
“A good luck kiss,” Luna said with delight. “Those two are absolutely adorable, aren’t they? Ah, young love.”
Satisfied, Theo flipped right side up and palmed the quaffle in his hand. “You hear that, babe? We’re absolutely adorable.”
You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Yeah, yeah. Now go out there and kick some Ravenclaw arse!”
Thanks to Teddy’s potion, you actually managed to keep your eyes open for the entirety of the game. It was a heated match with both teams playing with equal ferocity, but the boys had the upper hand. They moved as one, predicting each other’s moves from years and years of practice. Even the newest additions, Violet and Tracey, seemed to fit seamlessly into the group. 
By the time you reached the tail end of the game, your throat felt raw from cheering and screaming. Pansy was in a worse state, hurling insults when one of the Ravenclaw beaters attempted to grab the tail end of Blaise’s broom. 
“That was obviously a bloody fucking foul!” Pansy screamed. 
“Some colorful words from the Slytherin stands,” Luna said with a little smile, making Pansy blush. “Madam Hooch seems to agree. Robinson has been fouled for blagging Zabini.”
You gripped the end of the railing as Theo zoomed past. The score was tied, but if he made this goal it would put Slytherin up by ten points, effectively winning not only the game but also the Quidditch Cup.
“You got this, babe,” you yelled. “No mercy, Teddy!”
Theo met your gaze and smirked. Vicious woman, he mouthed before careening straight for the goalpost. 
The Ravenclaw keeper looked panicked as Theo dodged the other players and reeled the quaffle back. The shot was perfect, whizzing past the post so fast that the keeper didn’t even have time to react. 
“Nott with the winning shot!” Luna announced cheerily. “That’s game, everyone. Congratulations to this year’s Quidditch Cup winner: Slytherin House!”
The cheers that erupted from your housemates followed you all the way to the common room. In true Pansy fashion, the large space had been meticulously decorated with banners and streamers. The music blared and the liquor flowed, marking the start of a night of mischief and revelry. 
While waiting for the boys to finish showering, you helped Pansy play hostess. You greeted friends from other houses, filling their cups with your signature concoction. A fruity drink that masked the taste of liquor so well that the drinker didn’t realize they were pissed until it was too late. 
“Congratulations on the win,” said a familiar voice. You turned around and saw Murdock raising his green cup in a toast. 
You smiled, clinking your plastic cup against his. “Thanks Christoph. Good to see you here,” you lowered your voice, darting your head around the corner. “So things are going well with Daphne?”
Christoph smiled shyly. “Yeah, thanks for introducing us by the way. We’re going on our first date to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow.” 
After his last disastrous attendance at a Slytherin party, you figured it was the least you could do for your Hufflepuff friend. “Don’t mention it, Christoph. What are friends for? Besides, it’s obvious that you two would be absolutely perfect together.” 
“Who’s absolutely perfect together?” A familiar voice drawled. You felt an arm wrap protectively around you. “Besides us, of course.” 
Even before you were dating, Theo had a tendency to be overprotective towards you. Most of the time he was pretty good at controlling it, but sometimes his jealousy got the best of him. It would’ve annoyed you if it wasn’t so damn attractive. 
“Hey babe,” you said with a little smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I was just telling Christoph here that he should offer Daphne a drink. They’d make a cute couple, don’t you think?”
Realization flooded Theo’s features, followed by a hint of embarrassment. “Definitely,” he said with a rueful smile. “Take it from me, mate. Don’t wait too long before chasing after the girl of your dreams.”
Christoph nodded, looking determined. “Thanks, mate.”
You handed your friend another cup and pointed him in Daphne’s direction. Beside you, Theo smiled sheepishly. His hair was slightly wet from the shower and he smelled like sea salt spray and smoke. The cozy knitted sweater he had thrown on brought out his watercolor eyes. 
“Nice save, babe.” 
“What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic,” Theo said, placing his hands on your waist. “You bring it out of me, cara mia.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “You know, I’d be mad if jealous Theo wasn’t so hot.” Theo grinned as you placed your arms around his neck. “But scoring that winning goal? That was downright sexy.”
Your boyfriend toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Oh yeah? Well, I had some motivation, thanks to our little bargain.” His hands slipped underneath your shirt, tracing teasing circles on your hips. “I delivered on my end. Now it’s time for you to pay up, love.” 
“Good things come to those who wait, Theo.” 
Theo pouted. “Fine, but only because I know you’re worth it.”
You pulled Theo in by the belt loop and kissed him, long and hard. He lifted you up and groaned as you tugged at his curls. Theo sighed into your mouth as you took control, showing him exactly how much you wanted him. You topped the kiss off by gently biting on his bottom lip. When you pulled away, Theo looked dazed. 
“Fuck,” he said in a low, dark voice. 
“A little preview,” you said with a smirk. “Just so you don’t think I’m completely heartless.”
“So my dorm or yours?”
You chuckled. “Theo, you haven’t even made your rounds. This party is to celebrate your win, you know.”
“Fuck the party,” he said dismissively. “You think I care about talking to all of these people after that? What do you want, love? Do you want me to beg? Get on my knees for you? I’ll do anything, princess.”
Salazar fucking save you. 
You would’ve taken Theo up on the offer, but this was his moment. He deserved to be celebrated. Besides, he’d be all yours by the end of the night. 
“As much as I love the visual,” you said, pecking him on the cheek. “I want you to celebrate with the team. You lot deserve it after working so hard all year.” You lowered your voice, whispering in his ear. “After that, we can go up to your dorm and I’ll give you your reward. Think you can do that, babe?”
“Yes ma’am,” Theo replied. “God you’re fucking sexy when you’re bossing me around.” 
You smirked. “Good boy.” 
Theo groaned before slipping his hand into yours. “Now come on, before I change my mind and claim my reward right here, right now.”
The two of you made rounds through the party, stopping here and there to talk to your respective friends. Most of the time, you were by Theo’s side watching in admiration as everyone congratulated him on the winning goal. 
Even in deep conversation, Theo never stopped touching you. Whether it was the soothing rub of his thumb across your knuckles or his arm draped protectively around your waist, it was obvious that physical touch was your boyfriend’s love language. 
You couldn’t help but smile at how easy it came to him, like touching you was as natural as breathing air.  
“What’s that smile for, love?”
“I just really fucking fancy you.”
Merlin’s bloody beard. The smile on Theo’s face completely took your breath away. His eyes, which you often joked gave him resting witch face, lit up brighter than the sun. 
“I really fucking fancy you too, darling.”
Finally, the two of you reached your friends on the other side of the common room. Blaise and Enzo were engaged in a competitive game of beer pong against Mattheo and Draco. 
“The man of the hour,” Malfoy announced, clapping Theo on the back. “You fucking killed it out there, mate.” He turned back to the other boys. “We all did.”
“This calls for a celebratory shot!” you announced. “Wait, where’s Pans?”
Mattheo smirked. “Chatting up our commentator. Looks like our little Pansy’s all grown up.”
Across the room, you shot Pansy a wink as she and Luna sat rather close together, huddled on the couch and giggling every so often. You rallied the boys, raising your cups in a cheer. Pansy affectionately flipped you the bird as all six of you hooted and hollered, but she downed the liquor nonetheless. 
The firewhisky must have been a fast acting agent of liquid courage because not even a second after she set her cup down, Pansy was kissing Luna. You squealed in delight while the rest of the group drunkenly cheered. 
This night just kept getting better and better. 
“Another one of our finest lost to young love,” Draco announced dramatically. 
You rolled your eyes. “You could be too if you stopped being a coward and finally asked Hermione out.” 
Malfoy nearly spat out his drink. “Granger? You think I fancy Granger? Little miss know it all, member of the Golden Trio, poster child Gryffindor Granger? Are you taking the piss, Y/N?”
“Oh please,” Mattheo said with a scoff. “We all see the way you look at her in the Great Hall. You don’t just fancy Granger. You’re absolutely smitten, mate.”
Enzo nodded empathetically. “Mattheo’s right, cousin. You should just ask Hermione out on a date.”
“Have you lot forgotten that the madwoman once punched me in the face?” 
“I think she’d be good for you,” you said. “Set you straight.” 
“Set me straight?” Draco repeated. “I don’t need anyone to set me straight. Especially not Granger. I mean, the witch is insufferable with her stupid curly hair and stupid big brown eyes and stupid flawless skin.” 
Blaise sighed. “No offense, mate, but you’re even thicker than Enzo when it comes to girls.”
Enzo protested in response, but Draco was too busy having a meltdown to notice. His pale complexion blossomed with red as his mouth gaped open. “Do I like Granger?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Obviously, you blubbering idiot.” 
Draco glared at you, then at Theo. “Nott, please get your girlfriend away from me before I have a full on fit.”
Theo only laughed, pulling you closer. “Gladly. We were heading out anyway.” 
You hugged your friends goodbye. Draco was still frowning at his drink when you and Theo finally headed out of the common room. 
“Think about it, ferret boy,” you hollered from the door. “Granger’s a catch! We could use more female presence in this absolute sausage party of a friend group.” 
With that, Theo hauled you over his shoulder. You squealed, pinching his bum as he carried you out of the common room. “Alright, love. That’s enough of that.” 
When you finally reached Theo’s dorm, the two of you fell over in absolute hysterics. You plopped down on his bed, spreading like an obnoxious starfish. Theo followed after, diving on top of you. 
“I think you gave Malfoy an identity crisis,” he said, laughing into your hair. 
You shrugged, rolling over so that you were on top of him. “He deserved it.” 
Theo toyed with the hem of your shirt, tracing circles on your hips. “And what about what I deserve?” 
“It’s coming, babe,” you said with a sly smile. “And pretty soon you will be too.”
“Don’t tease, cara mia.”
“I never tease,” you purred. “I only promise.”
With a satisfied smirk, you pressed your lips against his. Theo groaned into your mouth as you straddled his lap, deepening the kiss. Large hands roamed underneath your shirt, his palms rough and calloused from hours and hours of playing quidditch.
A sinfully delicious moan slipped past Theo’s lips as you trailed kisses along his jaw, throat, and neck. You sucked on his flesh, hard enough to leave marks. You liked knowing that every time he changed, little reminders of you littered his skin.
“Bloody fucking hell,” Theo muttered.
“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Theo,” you teased. “I bet I could shut you up though.”
Your boyfriend groaned like he was in pain. “Please do.”
You winked before disappearing underneath the covers. Theo’s eyes fluttered close as you continued kissing down his chest, taking the time to trace your name on his abs with your tongue, which seemed to be a real crowd pleaser. You stripped off his trousers, kissing his perfectly defined v line before licking a teasing stripe along the underside of his cock.
“Figlio di puttana,” Theo cursed, low and rough. Your knees nearly buckled. There was truly nothing hotter than your boyfriend swearing in Italian. “Don’t stop, Y/N.”
“What was that you said about delivering on my promise?” you asked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes. “Because it feels like I’m giving you the winner treatment right now, doesn’t it baby?”
A choked moan was your only response as you took him into your mouth. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat, bobbing your head up and down in a steady rhythm. Theo fisted your hair in his hands, watching through heavy lids as you sucked your cheeks in. 
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, stroking your cheek. “But I’m willing to die a happy man.”
You chuckled, sending vibrations to his sensitive head. Theo twitched against your cheek as you gripped his shaft, moving along with your mouth. He continued to curse colorfully while you wrapped your lips around him. You felt him tense underneath you, signaling that he was close. 
Theo tugged lightly at your scalp. “I don’t want to cum yet,” he said huskily. “Not until I’m inside of you.” 
Merlin bless your boyfriend and his filthy fucking mouth. Theo flipped you over, his body pinning you to the mattress as he kissed you roughly. You gasped against his mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue in. Heat pooled in your core and flooded your body with desire. 
“Theo,” you mumbled, tugging at his shirt. “I need you. Now.” 
He ripped off his shirt, grinning. “Then have me, darling.” 
“I want to be on top.” 
You squealed as Theo rolled over, placing you on his lap. He gripped your hips and gently rolled against you. “I’m not about to argue with that.”
With a smirk, you toyed with the hem of your shirt. Theo grabbed your wrist and shook his head. “Keep it on. I want to watch you ride me while wearing my jersey.”
“Have I ever told you how much I love your filthy mouth?” 
Theo grinned before latching his lips on your breast. He looked up at you and swirled his tongue around your nipple through the fabric. “It’s not ringing a bell. Shall I try the other side?” 
“Gods, yes.” 
He gave your other nipple equal attention as you lined his cock up at your entrance. Precum coated his tip, mixing with your own slick as you slowly lowered onto his length. Theo’s teeth sank into your collarbone, muffling his moan. 
“Fuck me,” he exhaled in a shaky breath. 
“I am, baby.”
Theo chuckled darkly. “Smartass.”
You rolled your hips as he gripped your ass, helping you lift and lower at a faster pace. Theo’s mouth collided with yours, his hands roaming underneath your shirt and exploring every inch of you like he was trying to commit your body to memory. 
The intensity of his gaze pierced you with lust and desire. He lifted the hem of his jersey, watching as his cock disappeared between your folds. 
“I love watching you take all of me, pretty girl.” Theo was ravenous, littering your neck and shoulder with love bites. “You ride me so fucking well. Maybe it should be you out there on the broom.” 
“The only broom I’m interested in is yours,” you quipped back. “Besides, you don’t want everyone else knowing my tricks, do you?”
“Fuck no,” Theo whispered roughly as he switched positions. He pressed you against the mattress, hooking your legs on his shoulder before smirking. “This is for my eyes only. You’re mine, amorina.” 
“Yours,” you breathed as he thrust into you. The angle allowed him to slide in even deeper, hitting all the right spots as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 
“That’s my good girl,” Theo declared proudly. “Now fucking take it.”
The pleasure hits you in waves. The sounds that you were both making were absolutely filthy, and you were glad that music was playing in the common room below otherwise the whole of Slytherin house would’ve heard you screaming Theo’s name. 
“You getting close, baby?” Theo grunted as you fluttered around him. You whimpered in response, raking your nails along his back. “I’ll take that as a yes. I want you to cum with me. Can you do that, pretty girl?”
You nodded as Theo’s slender fingers rubbed against your clit, pushing you over the edge. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, cursing as the orgasm hit you both. 
Theo kissed you, swallowing your moans of pleasure as euphoria washed over you. He rode it out, hips stuttering as he finished. The two of you laid in the dark, bodies twined together while your heartbeats synced. 
“Holy fuck,” you said in disbelief. 
Theo chuckled. “That did feel a bit sacrilegious.” 
He rolled over and grabbed his wand, casting a quick scouring charm over the both of you. Thank Merlin for magic.
You rolled over, propping your chin up with one hand. “You want to smoke a cigarette, don’t you?”
Your boyfriend shook his head. “Actually, I was thinking about quitting.” 
Now this was news to you. “Oh? Has all my nagging finally paid off?” 
“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “I’m just thinking ahead. I don’t want our kids picking up the habit.”
Your eyes widened. “Kids? As in, plural?”
Theo nodded emphatically. “Oh yeah, little Theo Jr. and his brother Mattheo don’t need to be exposed to my smoking.” 
You cocked your head in confusion. “Theo Jr.? Mattheo?”
“Don’t ask. I lost a bet.”
“You better be taking the piss, Teddy.”
He chuckled. “Mostly. I am quitting smoking and I am looking forward to a future with you, our hypothetical children’s names to be further discussed.” 
“You absolute menace of a man,” you said, cuddling him with a wide grin. “I fucking adore you, do you know that?”
“I am stupidly in love with you.” 
You giggled as Theo peppered kisses on your face. “Malfoy’s right. We’re truly revolting.”
“Oh, absolutely vile.” 
Theo tucked you into the crook of his neck and kissed the top of your head. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you mumbled sleepily. “I love you, Teddy.”
He pulled you close and smiled. “I love you too, Y/N.”
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taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468 @writingsbychlo
please let me know if you'd like to be added.
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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months
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hiiii could you please write something about aftercare with young snow? like how in jealous girl it says he babied her afterwards, but a whole fic about it? i just wanna see how sweet a cruel man like snow can be 🤭
tip of my fingers |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: as requested above, aftercare with snow.
contains: fluff. mentions of dom/sub themes. possessive snow.
Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, chest still rising and falling with every ragged breath from his post orgasm. He always got flushed like this after a night of particularly rough sex. 
“‘M going to the shower, my love.” Corio muttered, curls matted to his forehead, muggy and sweaty. His hand patted the top of your thigh, gentler than before, your skin still raw and sensitive. 
You didn’t move, didn’t utter a word, really didn’t make a sound besides a pathetic whine. Corio’s head snapped around, turning to you in an instant. His eyes narrowed carefully, scanning over you like he was assessing his latest plans. “Are you alright?” 
Your glazed eyes staring off, face turned, smushed into the mattress, a pool of your own drool beneath you. Normally he’d mock you, tease you for being so messy. “My messy girl, look at you.” He’d give you a grin that felt more like a sneer. 
Not this time. 
Coriolanus called your name, softly but firmly, crouching in front of you. His hand rubbed over your clammy forehead, heated cheeks still flushed from your climax. “Look at me, darling.” Corio muttered, fingers tracing over your cheek down the slope of your neck. You shuddered but didn’t turn to him, still lost in your own haze. “Can you hear me?” 
Your own mind was miles away from that very bedroom, lost under roaring waves and a hazy fog that Corio always got you in. Usually you snapped back quicker, a few loving kisses, the shock of a cold rag cleaning you up. Other times, it was more difficult. 
Coriolanus moved to the bathroom, swallowing down the venomous bark of spewing orders that threatened to fall from his lips. He didn’t like this feeling, when he was out of control, especially with you. When something was wrong and he didn’t know an immediate fix. The rational side of himself told him to stay calm, do what he knew to before spiraling into a panic. 
Corio tried to swallow down his beating heart, wringing the cold water out of the cloth, before walking back into the bedroom. The air was still thick and hot, sticky with the lingering musk of sex. He moved beside you, wordlessly, smoothing the cloth over your forehead. 
The icy feeling shocked your system, leaving your shuddering, mind lurching back, vision clearing. Corio was before you, brows pinched with a concerned frown, studying you carefully. Your eyes met his, blinking helplessly before him. He swallowed a groan at how it made his cock lurch, seeing you so weak and needy. 
“My love,” Corio’s hand slid down your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. “Are you alright?” 
You blinked, moving into his touch, nearly instinctively. “You’re alright?” Corio pressed, head tilting in a much softer way to look at you. “Yes?” 
You nodded, pushing off the mattress, groaning at the uncomfortable stretch of sore skin on your ass and thighs. Coriolanus had used his belt, your favorite, tonight. 
“Be careful.” Corio clicked, hands wrapping around your biceps, much softer now than before. “You’re going to be sore, darling girl. Careful.” His tone softer now, hushed mumblings as he helped you up. 
You winced when your raw skin brushed the silk of the sheets, the ghosting of a whimper on your lips. Corio shushed you gently, sitting next to you, pulling you into his lap. His hand brushing down your hair, your skin sticky on his own. 
“How are you feeling?” Coriolanus muttered, lips brushing against your scalp, breathing in the sweaty scent mixed with your perfume from before. 
“‘M alright.” You muttered, your cheek against his pec. You could hear his heart rate, how it fluttered and stilled to a steady rhythm. How it would erupt in an excited crescendo when you finally spoke, making your veins fill with ooey gooey rushes of adoration. For all of Coriolanus’ cruelties, his harshness- he did love you. It was evident in moments like these. 
“Do you need the healing ointment? I can get it from the servant’s quarters-” 
“-I’ll be alright, Corio.” You hummed, eyes pulling heavily. The exhaustion washes over you in thick waves. “I just want you to hold me, please.” Your eyes lifted, rounding sweetly. 
He’d be a fool not to, Coriolanus decided, pulling you closer into his chest. He liked you like this, pliant and at his every whim, completely reliant on him. 
Corio moved to the bath after, quieting your whines of protest with a small tut, coaxing kisses to your temples, testing the bath water with great show while you sat on the ledge. 
You stayed pressed to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline, like you might float away or dissolve if he let go. Corio let you, ego swelling off the dependency. 
“Did I go too hard?” Corio hummed, a sudsy hand rubbing down your spine. The bath filled with the tonic fresh from District Eleven, dried orange peels, lavender, and rose. Coriolanus brought it to you, after his last visit to the district. You had swooned over it, smothering him sillily in kisses that made him blush. 
“No,” You shook your head, inhaling the scent that was entirely his. “I think it was the teasing and the spanking, at the same time. I just- I wasn’t ready for it.” You knew what he wanted to hear. Coriolanus had always been adamant after your rough play that you debrief him. It felt very professional, which is why you were reluctant, but that type of blunt, straight forward reporting is what Corio responded best to. 
Corio nodded, a low hum vibrating out of his chest, tickling your ear. “I see. I won’t do it as much next time.” He wouldn’t apologize, but you could hear it in his unspoken words. 
“Just not as much at the same time.” You whispered sheepishly, as if he didn’t know every part of you. 
Coriolanus nodded, a wet hand rubbing the base of your neck, scratching your scalp gently. He knew you loved it, knew it would have your head tipping back into his touch so he could kiss you. 
You let him wash you, dry you off- only whimpering when the towel brushes over your ignited skin. He shushed you, a silent apology, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh. He put the ointment on anyway, muttering flippantly about how “you had obligations tomorrow, and didn’t need to be squirming the whole time”. You knew it was because it made him feel better. 
Corio dressed you in your nightgown, slipping the powdery blue, soft fabric over your skin, trailing kisses from the back of your shoulder to your ear. 
Underneath the silk of the sheets, you slept in his arms, face to face, whispering in the darkness of the room. It always brought out the vulnerability of Coriolanus in these moments, holding you, feeling you, smelling you- he’d bear his soul to you. 
“I’m unsure about the games.” Corio muttered, arms tightening around you. 
“Unsure in what way, honey?” You hummed, finger raking through his curls, behind his ear- his favorite spot. 
“Unsure that they’ll be as successful as they need to be.” Corio hummed, and even through the dark you could see the concern on his features. “Unsure that people will watch.” 
You paused for a moment. You decided not to tell him how you truly felt, not then, anyways. Selfishly, you didn’t want to ruin the intimacy, the softness of the moment. “I’m sure they’ll be everything you hope for them to be.” You hummed, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “Everything always does.” 
Your words, as forced as they were, brought comfort to Coriolanus. His head falling back into your hair, pressing a kiss to your scalp. Fingertips brushing skin, hushed words, and soft kisses all exchanged under the twilight of the night. Tomorrow, you’d be prim and proper. You’d stand beside Corio respectfully, hide your grimace at the mention of the upcoming reaping, refrain from rolling your eyes at the suck ups that flocked to Coriolanus in a giddy, exaggerated manner. You two would be the picture of perfection that Panem wanted you to be. For now, you’d be content to lay in each other's arms, being yourself instead.
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luviestarz · 7 months
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lee haechan fic recs!
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❤︎ I LIKE YOU (I DO) (L.DH) - @domjaehyun (stoner!haechan just wants you to know how much he likes you.)
❤︎ paperclip - @smileysuh (yandere, ex bf! hyuck)
❤︎ My Boy. - @prodbymaui (A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.)
❤︎ kiss it better - @yeow6n (haechan gets hurt but you know that with him it’s not going to be as simple as putting a band-aid on it)
❤︎ sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH - @haechwrites (prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.)
❤︎ bus stop - @ooshu (haechan rides the bus. you hop on the same ride. minutes later, you two were a couple. he never questioned why.)
❤︎ strawberries & cigarettes - @hyudior (the art school's play is in two days and you're running out of time to put everything together since your known enemy lee donghyuck decided that the rehearsal day was the perfect day to release a launch party for his new album.)
❤︎ >> take my breath - @hyuckwrlds
❤︎ moles ♡‧₊˚ lee haechan - @sleeping-sirens (you read something on the internet that made you feel jealous of a person you didn’t even know but haechan knows just how to reassure you.)
❤︎ haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby - @hyuckmov (he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flicking his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggle up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction.)
❤︎ eyes tell - @tonicandjins (donghyuck has been trying to confess his feelings to you. third time's the charm, he thinks.)
❤︎ going below zero | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (Considering how much Haechan makes it his personal mission to antagonize you at work, it seems like a rather cruel twist of fate that the both of you have been side by side since middle school, the only consolation being that his office is a different floor from yours. But if there’s a saying about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, your attitude with him might just be the opposite, and it’ll take a family ski holiday to find out.)
❤︎ take my breath. - @sixzeroes (lee donghyuck did not believe in ‘love at first sight.’ key word: did. he does now, but only because you happened to fall into his arms on the icy road in the narrow streets. you’re going to render him breathless from the countless times your smile takes his breath away.)
❤︎ ice cream thief [ l.dh ] - @tddyhyck (someone has been eating haechan's favorite ice cream so he decides to put a hidden camera in the kitchen and living room thinking it's a shared space it shouldn't invade anyone's privacy... right?)
❤︎ tease | lee haechan - @hyuckiefluff (Playing spin the bottle definitely wasn't what you had envisioned for your first college party. And the last person you expected to see was Lee Haechan. But life has a funny way of throwing surprises at you, and this time it came in the form of the bottle landing on some drunk dude who dared you to kiss Haechan.)
❤︎ 𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁸⁺ - @goldyeokki (you and lee donghyuck both get along like oil and water. if it were up to you, you would be going about your days without even breathing in his direction. unfortunately you're in the same friend group and you have to tolerate each other. as handsome or attractive as people claim him to be, you hate his guts. there's so many reasons why you hate him, so why do you get butterflies in your stomach when he's near?)
❤︎ high (with my lover) [m] – l.dh - @yeonghosins (y/n smokes up with donghyuck for the first time)
❤︎ what the puck! - @choerrypuffs (you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue.)
❤︎ double take | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (friends to lovers, highschool au, slowburn, fluff, angst)
❤︎ Your Red Lipstick || L.DH - @ihaechans (Kisses, kisses, kisses. That’s all your boyfriend wants. When you refuse to give him the one thing he craves, he won’t leave you alone, begging and begging until you give in.)
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charliemwrites · 5 months
Text
Part 4 of obsessed Johnny.
(Part 3 is here!)
(CW for nonconsensual ‘sort-of’ free use and edging; and again - dubious consent. Please stay safe!!)
Johnny’s favorite pastime is playing with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s being purposefully cruel, but no. He’s just… strangely preoccupied with your body.
He spends most nights cradling you between his legs, your back to his chest, arms wrapped around you. The two of you watch tv or movies, share popcorn - sometimes he watches you play on your Switch or reads over your shoulder.
It started out almost innocent (so to speak) in the beginning. He’s a fidgety guy, you’ve known that long before this whole mess, used to smile to yourself when you cleaned up straw wrappers and clean napkins folded into odd shapes.
So you barely notice when he starts fiddling with the hems of your sweatshirt and long shirts, picking at strings or running his thumb over knit textures. When he moved to your socks, that caught your attention but never went very far - just tugging at elastic lace or rolling/unrolling the tops along your thighs.
And then one night, as the two of you are watching the latest superhero movie, he hand creeps under your panties. You jolt the instant his fingers grazes your slit, hands twitching as you debate the dangers of redirecting him.
“Something wrong, Bonnie?” he asks against your ear, genuinely curious. “Is it too loud?”
It occurs to you that he genuinely might not realize what he’s doing - that reaching for you is just a thoughtless action like folding up bits of paper.
“Your hand is in my underwear,” you explain.
A pause. “Oh, so it is.” And to your surprise, he returns to hugging you.
It happens again though, this time you’re so preoccupied trying to beat a video game level that you almost don’t notice until his middle finger glides over your clit. You suck in a breath and die instantly.
“Damn,” he mutters. “Thought you had it that time. Gonna give it another go or you done for the night.”
Stuttering, you say you’ll give it another try, almost morbidly curious about how far he’ll go. Pretty far it turns out. He toys with your clit for 15 minutes before you clear your throat and shift, feeling unbearably wet and achy.
“Oh, shite. I did it again,” he mumbles, extracting his hand and settling it on the outside of your thigh. “No wonder you keep dying.”
The next time is during an intense tv show you’ve both gotten really into. It’s distracting from the weird reality you’ve found yourself in - but not weird enough that you can ignore Johnny tapping his finger nervously over your clit. You swear your heartbeat is starting to match that rhythm - tap, tap, tap. He doesn’t get the hint when you shift this time, eyes locked on the screen as he mutters to himself.
“No way is he secretly her brother. No fuckin’ way.”
You try to ignore it. Hope it’ll end in its own time when the tension dies down. It doesn’t. He lets the next episode load automatically, babbling to you about the crazy cliffhanger.
As it opens, his fingers travel down your slit to your entrance, find the slick there and play in it. Microthrusts against your leaking hole, just wetting his fingertip before dragging it out, up to your clit, three circles, then back down again.
It’s maddening but it’s not enough. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re surprised you don’t taste blood, thighs twitching with each jolt of pleasure coursing through you.
On and on it goes, slow and absent, maddening. Literally just playing with your pussy like a fidget toy. He’s not even fully hard against your lower back! Just the normal amount of mildly turned on that having you in his lap produces.
It’s driving you into a fucking spiral. So so sensitive, so close to the edge, but never enough. You just lay there trapped against him, dripping and desperate and determined to be quiet because you don’t know what else to do now. You can’t let yourself get off to this - but you also can’t find the words to remind him to stop.
When the episode - the finally - finally ends, he pulls his hand away, already gearing up to discuss theories for the next season with you. Instead, he’s cut off as you hiccup, near tears with being denied.
“What’s wrong, hen? I didn’t think it was that bad!” he says.
“You-you were…” you can’t get the words out, give up entirely. Time to see if he really is as devoted to pleasing you as he always swears.
You crawl out of his lap, flip onto your back, and yank him down by the hair. He makes a startled noise, eyes going huge, and then whimpers as his cheek presses into your absolutely soaked panties. Even that is a cruel but unintentional tease.
“Fix it,” you near sob.
“Of course, baby, of course,” he hurries to say, wriggling into a better position. “I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Got you all spun up, huh? Didn’t mean to. You’re just so soft and-”
You whine. “Soap, shut up and lick me!”
He moans, hips jerking hard into the mattress. “Yes, ma’am.”
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xqueen-of-disasterx · 5 months
Text
You’ll be a star
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Paring: camgirl!fem!reader x dads!bestfriend!Nat
Summary: Natasha couldn’t help yourself when she saw her favorite girl.
Warnings: SMUT, recording, dom!Nat, sub!reader, nipple play, clit play, fingering, pet names, mommy kink, mask, kink, G!P Nat, praise kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex,
!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!
Masterlist
"And you are really comfortable with this" you asked your voice was small almost like a whisper. "I want to do this bunny, I mean it." She answered her voice full of confidence. She had agreed to help you with your life stream under the condition of not showing her identity which you of course respected. She was after all I known business women. You stranded her lap pulling the black baclava covering everything except a pair of piercing green eyes up to plant a reassuring kiss to the older woman’s lips. 
"I’m sure you’ll do great just be yourself and pretend no ones watching" You whispered against her lips pulling the mask down again. You turned to your camera and laptop seeing your reflection on the screen in front of you. Natasha wore a pair of faded jeans and a black wife beater making showing off her muscular build; looking at you you almost felt uncomfortable at your lack of clothing only wearing a matching set of white lingerie with small strawberries on them. "Are you ready?"
"I’m ready" she stated and you could see the excitement in her eyes after all Natasha wasn’t thought she was dreaming when out of all people you stood in the kitchen of your 2 days ago father. She had never meet you before after all you spend most of your time away at uni only coming home for the holidays or breaks. She happened to visit too in your two week visit in the summer break. She knew your face, of course she did, it was the face she jerked off to every night. You stood lend against the counter looking ever so innocent as your sweet lips curl into a smile as you spoke with your father; if he would only knew what his daughter was doing on the internet. And now she sat on your bed ready to experience everything with you. 
"The safe word is read" She reminded you "I won’t listen to stop sweetheart" You nodded turning to the laptop to press the record button starting the life stream. You sat back next to Nat as you saw the first few messages flooding in. 
Winter_Solidier: A guest? 
User85477439: Why the long wait?
User36298696: We missed you
You read out loud. "Umm… yes I’ve thought we spice it up with our guest here" Natasha nodded smirking under her mask you still weren’t quite comfortable doing this in front of a camera which made you so appealing to her, as if there was still a sense of innocence in you. 
— 
"Show them your pretty little tits bunny" Natasha smirked rolling er thumbs over your erected nipples. She held you to her chest, your back laying against her chest as she showed off your chest to the camera as you made pathetic noises in response. "Good girl" You moaned she had been teasing you seemingly endlessly never moving away from your breasts. Natasha glanced onto the screen reading through the messages
Denver-C donated $50: stop teasing her fuck her already 
User839236973: bring the guest more often 
"Mommy please" You whined out grinding against the air in desperate to find some kind of friction. "What’s the matter bunny you need to use your big girl words" You huffed throwing your head back as she twisted your already over stimulated nipples. "I- I need you" you whined your hips still buckling as Nat chuckled. "But I’m having so much fun you’re so sensitive" she taunted you "Wanna try making you cum just by your nipples" You shook your head winning in disagreement not expecting Nat to be so cruel. 
"Your viewers are betraying you" she laughed "They all want to see if you can cum from your tits" You were soaked as your juices were sticking to your thighs already. Natasha changed your position laying you down on the soft cushion as she latched on your breasts biting and tugging on them. You started to clench around nothing and your moans grew louder "Mhm mommy- ’m close" She chuckled before biting down again "Does my baby want to cum? Should I let you come" she whispered agist your skin "I think you wear good girl cum for me sweet girl" You didn’t need more to release your climaxing a scream soaking your panties in your cum. 
"Look at that baby, you made a mess all over the sheets" She chuckled hooking her fingers into your panties and pulling them your soft legs. "Such a messy girl" she coo’d against your soft skin. She manhandled you to sit in he lap again showing off your cunt to the camera keeping your legs spread with her her strong hands. "Don’ be shy baby girl show them what you’ve got"
"Natasha please" you pleaded, wanting nothing more then to be filled up by the older woman "What sweetheart, you need to use your words" You whined out, why had she to be so cruel. "I need you, fingers, cock I don’ care I need it now." She laughed at your desperate state "Should I let her have it?" She asked your viewers who are flooding the chat with donations or messages. 
"You got lucky sweetheart your chat is feeling generous" One of Natasha’s fingers trailed down to your gapping hole plugging it. She groans feeling how tight you actually were. You felt even better than she had imagined it. She started to move inside of you the heel of her hand rubbing over you clit. She stroked over your G- spot deciding to add a second finger to prepare you for her cock. 
She moved in and out pushing her fingers repeatedly into your tight heat. You threw your head back on her shoulder whimpering in her ear. "Are you close bunny" She coo’d and you nodded "Cum bunny cum for me" You climaxed over her hands your juices tripping down her hands. She brought up her fingers to your lips. "Open up bunny" Natasha pushed two finger down your throat making your eyes water. 
After she let you lick our own slick off her fingers her removed her hands from her mouth letting you catch your breath. She removed her jeans leaving them to pile at her ankles to tuck her boxers to her mid thigh revealing her lengthy hard on standing proud against her stomach. You were in an awe as you watched her jerk a few timer over her length before looking at you. 
"You can take that right?" You nodded still feeling a bit unsure she was bigger than anything you had taken yet. You strangled her lap Natasha gripping your hip to help you sink down on her cock. You felt a delicious stretch as Natasha bottomed you out. She let you adjust to her grit before you started to roll your hips. "Jus’ like that bunny" She moaned feeling your thighs heat against her shaft. "Good girl" 
She moved her hand from your hip to her to your breast rolling her thumbs over our overstimulated nipples. You had your hands on her shoulders moving your hips up and down moaning in pure lust. You knew she was just as close as you were. She started to thrust up desperate for an release inside of you. The thought of calming you with her seed inside of your womb made her go crazy. 
"Fuck" She panted "I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you, gonna fucking claim they tight littl’ pussy" With a last moan you came with her, your orgasms being triggered by the feeling of her painting your insides white. She had an iron grip on your hips to keep your hips moving to help you through your orgasm. You whimpered in overstimulation as she pulled you from her cocks showing of the mess between your legs. She sound of the donations was annoying her so she decided to hit the stop button taking care of you instead of further entertaining the creeps on the internet. 
"You’re gonna be a str Tasha they are loving you" you said in an awe as you scrolled through the comments of your lifestream. You laid in her arms as she kissed your temple. "I have to say it has a little kick" She smirked "But maybe I’ll Just keep you for myself Now" 
:)
I do not own these characters all rights go to Marvel
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