#I know I don’t usually reblog things to this blog

[wifeyoozi]

Lee Jihoon  ✶ 𓂃   She got the Ruby

w.c : 3.0 k ┊ synopsis : Lee jihoon accidentally rizzed up a rich woman and successfully gets pegged by her┊ content warning : smut , sub jihoon, pegging , face sitting/oral sex , lowkey sugar mommy dynamic , uji and his ruby red kink (red lips + red heels + red strap)

a/n : thank you for 1k followers !! Also please remember reblogs are more helpful for the blog than just likes so please reblog! Add tags and comments to lemme know how you liked the fic!

The first time Jihoon meets you it's at a bar. He doesn’t drink often, much less goes to a bar, but he’d been having a creative block in his studio for too long and it had got him feeling weary of his own studio and his shitty studio was that last place he wanted to be.

You were sitting alone, and he’d thought he could flirt with you. Not that he really thought he had a chance at all, you looked so gorgeous, dressed up a little too formally for a bar, but gorgeous nonetheless, and all while he was wearing an old stretched tee over ripped jeans, his impulsively bleached hair long and messy. But his pockets were light and a whiskey hit harder than local beer and he wouldn't mind using a stranger to vent.

“Hey, buy me a drink?” He tried, sliding by you. In all honesty Jihoon doesn't know a thing about flirting and picking up (only if he had listened to a bit of Mingyu's bizarre flirting lessons). He was stiff and awkward, his smile tight.

“No, why would I?” You were colder on the inside than what appeared on the surface. 

Jihoon held his hand up, “shit, sorry. I just had to try flirting once, y'know,” he said awkwardly, trying to retreat back.

“Oh,” you say, stopping him in his steps, “I didn't realise you were flirting.”

“You didn’t?” jihoon chuckles, “doesn’t it happen a lot to you? I'd find it hard to believe it if doesn't.”

“It doesn't,” you say, pulling the chair beside you to make space for him to sit. He raises his eyebrows at his own luck and slides into the seat, “what will you drink, then?”

“A whiskey sounds good,” Jihoon smiles, feeling a bit more confident now that you set the bar so low for him. You simply nod at the bartender who pours a neat glass of some expensive looking whiskey. He glances between you and the bartender, and feels the urge to stop you, “hey, that looks expensive, you don’t really have to-”

“Don’t bother the price,” you say, passing the glass to him, “you can continue flirting with me now.”

Jihoon doesn’t, infact, flirt. After just one glass of whiskey, he’s tipsy enough to spill every detail of his miserable life, from his sloppy job as a music artist and producer, to his shitty apartment at the outskirts of the city to his music block and absolute need for new inspiration. 

When Jihoon got a little too drunk, you ordered a cab for him to drop him home. 

He wasn't much of a talker usually, but alcohol in his system always made him a little weird. You had ended up knowing everything about your life. And he knew nothing but your name and the phone number you gave him.

The next morning he woke up with a hangover, still remembering last night. He tried to look up for you, in hopes of finding some social media so he knew a little more of you before he could think of contacting you.

Of everything else, he didn't expect the first thing to pop up would be a Wikipedia of your name. Oh.

Holy shit, did he just flirt with one of the richest business women in all of Korea!

He doesn't contact you after that knowledge, having read everything about you (especially your net worth). The number you gave him was probably fake too. Ugh, he'd probably embarrassed himself in front of you.

He met you again. And again. And again.

He'd learnt that you didn't go to bars often, you were just waiting for a business partner who was supposed to meet you there, only to have cancelled last minute due to his sick wife. 

“I'm glad I waited to finish my drink.” You'd told him, making his ears and neck heat up.

You two were at a musical exhibit, where Jihoon had performed a few of his songs as the opening guest, dressed in the expensive tailored suit you bought him as you yourself dressed in a black bodycon formal dress finished with a blazer, your sleeves rolled up. 

You'd bought him a rare expensive vinyl CD of his favourite Bruno Mars album. 

“I can't take that, it's too costly,” he said. He didn't want you to think that he was friends with you just for your money, because he really wasn't. “Besides, I don't have a vinyl player.”

“I do,” You say nonchalantly, “you can come over and listen to it whenever you like.”

That isn't the only thing you buy for him. Every time he tries to nod you off for it being too expensive or too big for his place, you'd take it to yours. So he had naturally ended up spending a lot of time at your penthouse. It was big and spacious and you'd told him there was enough space to fit in all his musical accessories that he couldn't keep at his own apartment.

He'd come there often after finishing his work at studio. He'd been inspired lately, writing different songs and making new beats every now and then. He'd even send you a few samples for you to review. 

“It sounds amazing,” you'd said as you pulled off his headphones, “what's the title?”

“Haven't thought of it yet. The chorus is still kinda funky. Once I get it the lyrics right, I'll have a title,” he said. 

He often thought his hoodies and electric guitars and the drum set and all the vinyls and vintage albums you bought him didn't fit your house aesthetic. But you never said anything about it.

He's eating dinner with you now at yet another expensive and fancy restaurant you took him to. He thinks you look gorgeous. Really gorgeous. Just out-of-his-league gorgeous. Your silky slip red dress and red lipstick and matching red heals did things to his heart (and dick) he couldn't explain. 

He just wants to bed you so bad. He wants you to fuck him so bad. 

He watches as you order another bottle of champagne for the two of you. He should feel more guilty, he thinks, for taking so much from you. Instead, he feels comfortable and pleased. He's always been the provider and the protector in any of his previous relationships – not that he minded to be the same with you, but it felt good to be taken care of once instead. He feels safe around you, and happy as well, and he's not an easy talk, but you hear him talk whenever he talks too. And he doesn't know what he must have done to get someone as perfect as you in his life.

“Hey, why do you like me,” he'd said impulsively, “why me?”

You could have had anyone you want in this world. Jihoon firmly believed that, with not only your wealth but for how beautiful you were, inside and out. He thinks you don't realise that, but he knows it.

You look up at him, lips opening and closing slightly, before speaking, “would you… like to come home with me tonight?”

Jihoon's back hit the wall as soon as you two reached the bedroom of your penthouse, his lips feverishly kissing yours. You were strong – not stronger than him, but you also made him feel weak. You pinned him against the wall, your one hand holding two of his above his head as the other reached to hold a handful of his hair. 

He'd moan in your mouth every time you'd tug a little too hard. He loved it. He loves how you tower over him in your 4-inches red high heels. He's usually very dominant in bed, but you make him feel so submissive. 

He feels dumbbed out by the kiss when you pull away, panting as you place butterfly kisses over his jaw and neck. “Shit, y/n, I want you so bad,” he whispered against your hair.

“Will you strip for me, baby?”

Jihoon would do anything for you if you call him baby in your sweet, seductive voice. You leave his hands so he can help himself, unbuttoning the silk black shirt (that you bought for him), carelessly pulling them off his shoulders and yanking them off to the floor. He undid his trousers and pulled them down to his thighs, letting gravity do the rest of the work, all while you nibbled over the skin of his neck.

“These too, baby boy,” you said, tapping on his black CK boxer briefs. Shyly, but surely, Jihoon let go of those too, now completely bare in front of you. You looked down at him, your hand ghosting over the curves of his body, making Jihoon shiver. He could feels your stare over his dick, which had gotten half hard already. You rest your hand over his abs, meeting his eyes again, “Shit, you're so pretty, hoon.”

He wanted to say you were prettier, but his voice was stuck in his throat. You pressed another kiss on his lips before taking his hand and bringing him to your bed, making him sit on the edge. You stripped for him next, giving him a full show as you slipped off your dress, your matching black lace lingerie a sight to his eyes. He immediately put his hand to the back of your knee to pull you on the bed on top of him, but you pullled back, chuckling at him.

“Patience, my baby boy.”

Jihoon let out a shaky breath, pulling his hand back to himself as he watched you undo your bra and let it slip down your shoulders and onto the floor. His mouth watered at sight of your breasts, soft and heavy and perfectly shaped. He held himself back from touching you, even as his cock was completely hard against his torso by now. Your panties came down next, and when you bent down to take off your heels, he stopped you by your wrists, “c-can you not take them off yet?” he asked you, then added in a sweeter voice, “please?”

There was a smile on your face. “Of course, anything for my baby.”

Jihoon’s cheeks grew red a little again, and he looked up at you expectantly.

“What do you want, hoonie?” you cooed softly, cupping his cheek in your right hand, brushing a thumb on it slowly.

“I-i want you,” jihoon said shyly, embarrassed at stuttering the way he did. 

You laugh at him. “You want me? You are gonna have to earn it baby.”

You gently guided his face to your crotch, lifting your one leg up on the bed to give him access. For jihoon, it was nothing short of a dream come true, to have his face smushed over the paradise of your pussy. He held your juicy thighs for support, as he licked a stripe between your folds. In return, he felt your grip on his hair tightening, pulling against his scalp. He was lapping you up like a dog after that. You were wet. So wet. And he wanted to drink all of your juices.

You were moaning softly above him as pushed you by your thighs closer to his face, sliding a tongue into your heat as his nose pressed against your clit. He couldnt help but want more. It wasn’t his fault, you had conditioned him to want the best of everything by spoiling him like that. 

“Baby, can you sit on my face?” he asked, looking up at you with hooded eyes, and you nodded in a yes immediately. He let his body fall back on the bed and you scooted over to his head. You were still holding yourself up, trying not to squish his face. But jihoon wanted exactly for you to squish his face down, to be pressed against your pussy till he couldn’t breathe. So he pulled your thighs down so you were sitting on his face like it was a fucking stool.

He heard you gasp a little when his tongue was right back at action. He suckled on your clit a little, not enough to drive you over the edge, but just enough to make you moan above him. He put his tongue back in its place inside your vagina and he suddenly wished he had two tongues so he could simultaneously fuck you with one and play with your clit with the other. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that choice, so he simply settled on performing the best oral he ever has eith only one tongue.

His pace wasn’t too fast, so to make your experience last longer and better, but not so slow it would be annoying for you. It was the perfect pace to get you moaning. When he felt your thighs start to shake a little, he knew you were close. He put his mouth over your clit once again, sucking harder to ride you to your high, until you were wetting his face with your cum. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he made you squirt for his first time.

You scooted back to sit on his chest now, stabilizing yourself after the amazing orgasm jihoon gave you. He rubbed comforting small and warm circles on your thighs, until you were down from you high, looking down at him with a satisfied smile. 

“was I good?”

“So good, baby,” you say, leaning down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. “Gon’ make you feel s’good,” you say against his lips. 

You both reposistion so that jihoon was lying down straight on the bed,his head supported by your pillows as you hovered on top of him, your knees encaging either sides of his hips. You kissed him again, your tongue finding it's way in his mouth, making him gasp, his hands gripping your shoulders with need. 

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” You ask gently.

“Yes.” 

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Mh,” Jihoon nods. He usually dominates his way in bed. He's good at it, doing all the work add giving his partners complete pleasure. But he's taken it before, and he can take it now too. He wants to take it. He wants to take you. “I want you so bad, y/n.” 

He doesn't know how you do it, make him feel all weak and submissive for you. He waits patiently as you climb off him to get your strap-on. His palms are sweating and his cock is as hard as it can be as he watched you put on the harness. He didn't think someone could look as elegant and beautiful as you did while putting on a strap on.

The silicon end of the strap was a hot angry red, and matched with the red heels you still wore and your red lips intact from the smudge-proof lipstick makes Jihoon want to moan just looking at you. It's impossible for any being to look as sexy as you did at that moment. When you climbed back on the bed, pulling a lube bottle from the night table, his mouth almost watered at the sight of you.

You got between his legs, pulling his knees to either side of your hips so his ass was raised just enough for you to slip a hand under. You coated your fingers with an adequate amount of lube before circling his puckering hole, slipping in a digit. It made Jihoon arch his back with a moan muffled by his arm covering his mouth. 

He'd cleaned himself before meeting you, but he was still tight. Your fingers were gentle, easing him at a comfortable pace. You leaned back down to his neck, nipping over the skin to mark your territory. You pushed his arm from his mouth, “let me hear you, beautiful.” 

Jihoon was very vocal in bed, more so when he was submissive. Your fingers felt amazing on him. When he eased around one, you pushed another finger in, your hand caressing his thighs comfortingly. 

Your fingers curled inside him, close enough to his prostate, making him whimper your name. You move up again, hungry for his lips, kissing him messily and sloppily as he moans against your mouth. 

“Baby, do you think you're ready yet?” You ask him and he nods positively. Your silicone cock is big, bigger than him probably, but he thinks he could take you now. Besides, he'd like a little stretch of it too.

You smile against his lips, taking out your fingers and coating your cock with more lube. You enter the tip first, watching the man under you press his face into the pillow beside him, his drool sticking out as he moaned, taking the rest of it too. He relaxed around it, giving you a go to move.

You slam your hips against his, earning another loud sound from him. You couldn't care less about making noise, you lived in a penthouse with thick walls. You wanted to hear Jihoon moan and whimper your name, drink in his sweet noises. 

As you accelerated the pace, Jihoon arched his back, whimpering little ah-ah-ah’s, clutching the bedsheets under him you held his thighs up, hosting his right knee on your shoulder to get the perfect angle to get to his prostate every time. 

You loved the way Jihoon fell apart under you. You could tell he was close already, so you take hold of his leaking cock, giving it attention it needed finally. Not long after Jihoon is shooting white ropes all over his stomach, breathing heavily. 

You bend down and kiss the satisfied smile on his lips, slowly exiting him as he relaxed down there. You took a few tissues from the night table and cleaned up Jihoon and yourself lazily before taking off your strap and heels. You lied down beside him, pulling a blanket over the two of you. You didn't need to be told that Jihoon wanted to cuddle, so you slipped on top of him yourself, resting your cheek against his shoulder and wrapping a hand around his waist.

“Felt good, baby?”

“Mm, s’good,” Jihoon sighed, hugging you tighter. Tonight was indeed productive. Not only did Jihoon get fucked up so good after so long, but he was also inspired by you(r red cock) and finally had a name for the track he'd been working on lately: Ruby.

#svt #seventeen #svt smut #svt x reader #woozi #woozi x reader #woozi smut #lee jihoon #jihoon x reader #jihoon smut #woozi x you #woozi imagines #jihoon imagines #jihoon #seventeen smut #svt imagines

[maglors-anion-gap]

Some thoughts are Inside Thoughts and they should Stay Inside. You’re not bad for having that thought, but it would be rude to share it. This is legitimately a kindergarten-level lesson.

#you just do not need to make backhanded compliments on something someone chose to share for free with joy #it’s not really a compliment if you have to append a qualification to it #about how much you ordinarily hate ABC but you’ll make an exception here bc XYZ #the opinion isn’t the issue. post about disliking ABC on your blog. have fun! #but It’s weird and commonly regarded as a bad move to come into an ABC enjoyers yard and shit in their grass #and then say *hey you should be happy I even shat here bc I couldn’t stand to make it past the gate ordinarily* #it’s not the same thing as saying *i don’t usually come here but hey! nice yard!* and you know it #*it’s not my usual fare but it’s nice!* and *i despise the pairing and only reblogged for Character A* are not the same

[applejee]

that post about there not being snow in december and someone reblogged a tone deaf reply from an australian like “this is like if people came on here and said they don’t care about the australian bushfires because it doesn’t affect them”

they did. like this may very well be an american microblogging website but there is complete radio silence, every time this country is ravaged by bushfires…. during black summer it was majority aussie and kiwi posting about it, rarely did i see usamericans and other nationalities posting about it, like that is not the example to use lmao

#not being american feels like being invisible on this site tbh #like for aussies it’s less so than say someone in poland #but GENUINELY the posts i see like ‘if you ignore this american voting post ur evil’ #like girl. i do not need to know how to vote in america. #i don’t need to reblog posts as a PSA i believe people can find it themselves #from other american bloggers it’s relevant to?? #i only ever see ‘signal boost this post for aussies to sign this petition’ #shared by other people in this region usually #anyway i already reblogged the post once before i saw an addition like that LOL #so not doing it again #i saw the post and went that’s blatantly false RE the addition #and then the blog who rb it tagged the exact same thing i thought #so im making a new post lmfao

[revolution-or-riot]

literally cannot stand when people act like disliking taylor swift is some misogynistic act

#saw someone putting on blast another blog for #reblogging a post that made fun of her in like #the most unserious way #said the blog #was misogynistic and sexist and needed to #get the fuck of their following list #and like….. #i had already unfollowed that #person who #made the mean comments #because they #are just a mean person #and following them was such a chore because of it #so when i saw this i was like #yeah #i made a good choice there. #you know those people who are like #my takes are the only correct one and then everyone is stupid #if they don’t agree or even voice hope for something to spin the other way? #that’s this person #the 9-1-1 fandom is very toxic #which i don’t usually say things like that but WOW #y’all are either right or you’re mad at everyone else #and this person esp goes looking for content that #makes them mad. #pathetic #when i get really into 911 i started following blogs ofc and wow! #i only follow like three because no one acts right!

[aashiqui-aashiqui]

.

#im like losing it over something simple but the last post i reblogged is first of all i think incredibly beautiful but more importantly in- #the tags if you scroll down just a little bit you cak see one of the dumbest things i unfortunately read today and it was basically someone- #going ‘has there ever been a exploring christianity as this is a western magazine because the way this is framed kinda others’ like wow……….. #that person saw a (gorgeous) photograph of a crowd of muslims praying together and immediately thought ‘WELL WHAT ABOUT THE CHRISTIANS’ like #be so fr right now i am tired. it really just says something about how even though islam is the second biggest religion worldwide this is- #what people think when they see us. or they think of the usual stereotypes of course. i don’t know im tired of white people as i checked- #that persons blog and im like 90% sure theyre white and catholic perhaps…? tracks honestly

[crowcryptid]

A blog that I follow that has been dormant since 2018 randomly just reblogged anime femdom nsfw wha-

They also reblogged a tweet of the same context

Man I’m just trying to scroll on my lunch break

I’m not sure if this is the owner coming back or if the blog was hacked because the original theme was just like. Animal pictures. And the url and description haven’t been changed..

#if that’s the owner then pls update ur stuff #if that is a dead blog being defiled by a hacker then. that’s sad. #scrolling scrolling- is that- why yes it is #tumblr is a website #I don’t really want to message them but if they keep doing that I’ll just unfollow #I need to at least attempt to keep things clean enough that I can scroll at work #I do have my own desk n stuff so no one is really looking at me but still- ya know? #and no I don’t use my jobs wifi LOL I have never connected my phone to it and I never will #the content and behavior suggests it’s a bot/hacked account. but don’t bots usually reblog and post things with Totally Legit™️ links #the 2 posts it reblogged weren’t bot posts and didn’t have links

[shadowfoxsilver]

Some quick tips to spotting accounts that are pretending to be a Palestinian needing mutual aid. Please keep in mind that not all of them are scam accounts, and that some may legitimate blogs who just aren’t too knowledgeable on how tumblr works. This guide is based around what I go by when checking certain blogs and usually it’s a quick giveaway the blog is a scam.

1. You was sent the ask as someone who regularly shares Palestine related content such as regular news updates of posts by other Palestinians who are regularly giving updates. You may also get these asks from sharing a popular post that is from the Palestine tag. If you post often about Palestine, you will always start getting these asks. These askers don’t care if you state don’t send the asks. They will anyway. Unfortunately minors also get sent asks.

2. The ask has odd formatting such as having odd quotation marks in it or unusual formatting that may indicate it’s been edited and copied from somewhere else. Often the ask is the same thing as the post itself minus a link to a donation site. These asks rarely change so searching it should pull up if it’s been sent to other bloggers.

3. The account is almost always a few days old or a week old or long depending on how often they have sent asks.

4. The blog has a few Palestine related posts or posts from random tags reblogged to pad out length and then no more. They will have no original posts besides the pinned post while occasionally answering asks that they may have received but otherwise nothing else and no further updates given either.

5. They may have a Linktree link that is called “GoFundMe” as if indicating they have a GoFundMe there. However, they don’t. When clicked on, the Linktree actually goes to a PayPal account whose name may not even match the one their supposed name is. They’ll say it’s a friend, but it’s just the same person not someone else. You’ll see this same name across multiple accounts after a while usually giving away it’s not legitimate even under a different theme.

6. The text used by the blogs are often real stories stolen from legitimate fundraisers and searching parts of it in your preferred search engine should pull up the sources. These sources make no mention of a tumblr account either or don’t have the PayPal account associated with them in the info. Scammers often impersonate a real person in need and will ignore you if you show them the source they copied from.

7. Legitimate Palestinians often link to their own GoFundMe posts that their friends have set up or post links to other social platforms they are found on. They will regularly post updates when possible, post sources to support them when necessary, and also generally have some method of verifying their legitimacy. They may often share links to support others as well or give links to charities that have been shown as reliable. They will have more original posts than just a single pinned one and regularly speak to other tumblr accounts beyond just an ask. Please don’t bother them with asks about possible scam accounts. There are many guides out there that can do that for you if you search.

8. Scammers don’t know anything about Palestine and will often have trouble once you ask them anything beyond the mutual aid post. They don’t know the languages decently and you can tell it pretty easily if you’re one who uses it regularly. Whatever the scammers use is often just copied off the site they got the post from.

9. These scammers can and will use names stolen off real Palestinians to look more legitimate and trustworthy. They change names constantly once one of their PayPal accounts is shut down.

Please don’t let these scams deter you from sending support where it needs to go. Even if you can’t donate personally, there are other ways to help. If you are sending money, please make sure that it’s going to where it’s needed and the place it’s sent has been verified accordingly. If you find a blog is a scammer, and have been able to prove it, please make sure to alert anyone sharing the post and report the account.

#how to spot a scam blog #scam #Palestine #psa #important info #long post is long

[sickslimez]

HOLE IN THE WALL! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...as an overworked and stressed employee, you find relief in giving blowjobs to complete strangers at an adult store

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, oral (m!receiving), jerking off, nipple play, tit job, pussy job, cum eating, praise, a little twist at the end, not proofread (as usual)

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

had to repost this bc tumblr took it down for whatever reason even though I have things more explicit than this on my other blog lmao

Working at an office where you were constantly hassled for your deadlines always put a lot of unwanted stress on your shoulders. Higher ups yapping in your ear about something you’ve been told one hundred times before and your fingers are typing as fast as they can on the computer. It was a complete and utter shit show, a waste of your precious time. But you have one little secret no one knows about, you volunteer at a glory hole every now and then when you feel too worked up.

After a long week of staring at a computer screen and boring meetings, you walking to the adult store, greeting the worker who already knew what you were there for. All you needed to relax was to watch random strangers cum from your touch. Believe it or not, it brought you joy hearing their moans on the other side of the thin wall. Maybe you chose the wrong profession.

As you entered the room, you let out a sigh, locking the door behind you. You slipped your coat off, and placed your bag down on the chair. Despite what others might think, the room was always clean. It wasn’t a random glory hole you’d find in a public bathroom or a shack in the middle of the woods. You unbuttoned your shirt, letting your tits breathe as you finally were able to relax and wait for the first person to come in.

You perked up at the sound of the door to the other room opening and closing shut. He let out a loud sigh, the sound of his pants being unbuckled making you excited. “Just make me cum, I’ve had a long fucking day,” he grunted. You looked down at the hole, the man placing his semi hard cock through it.

“You and me both, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good.” Your hand glided up and down his shaft, slowly stroking him, feeling him grow harder in your hand. You stared at his cock with a smile, his swollen tip flushed a dark pink, prominent veins running on the underside of it. Whoever this man was, he sure had a pretty cock. “You’re so big,” you giggle. Your hand barely able to fully wrap around.

Delicate fingers traced the prominent veins, teasing the underside of his dick before your thumb rubbed over his swollen tip. You felt him throb in your hand, a bead of pre cum forming at his tip, a smile tugging at your lips. The stranger was fully hard, dick long and pretty. You continued rubbing your thumb over his tip, sticking out your tongue to give him kitten licks, tasting his pre cum. You heard the man shudder, a breathy gasp leaving his throat. “Oh, you’re so sensitive!” You gasped, now slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, moving from base to tip.

You moaned in satisfaction, lip tucked between your teeth as you jerked the stranger off, your free hand cupping your tits as you started to feel turned on by the sight in front of you. “Oh, fuck,” he let out breathy moan. More pre cum began leaking from his tip, allowing you to use it as lubricant to jerk him off easier. Your wrist moved in circular motions, squeezing gently the closer your got towards his sensitive head. “Shit, sweetheart! You really know what you’re doing, huh?” A moan could be heard from the other side of the wall.

Your hand pumped him faster, squeezing tighter around his shaft. “You better not cum yet!” You smiled as if he could see you, but you were taking joy in hearing him in pleasure. Opening your mouth, you stuck out your tongue and took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down while simultaneously moving your hand. You pinched your nipple, moaning around his cock as his tip hit the back of your throat.

“Oh, baby, your tongue feels so good! Let me feel that throat,” he whimpered, bucking his hips against the wall, trying so desperately to fuck your face. You removed your hand from around his cock, allowing him to fuck your face. Glug, glug, glug. “There we fucking go, atta girl!” He moaned loudly. As you sat there and let him use your throat, you couldn’t help but think at how familiar the man sounded, though you couldn’t remember from where. But it was the least of you worries, you were only thinking about making him cum.

You pulled your head away, trying to catch your breath as drool coated your chin. You lazily smiled to yourself, wrapping your hand around his shaft again and slowly jerked him off. You positioned yourself to where your tits were close to his dick, rubbing his tip over your hard nipples. “Mmm, feels so good.” Your brows furrow in pleasure.

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing, sweetheart. God, I wish I could see your pretty face right now,” he grunted. You smiled at his words, continuing you give him a tit job before spitting on his cock again. You licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, taking him in your mouth slowly, allowing him to stretch your throat. You gagged on it, tears forming in your eyes before clenching them shut. Mascara ran down your cheeks as you began moving your head up and down, more spit coating his cock and falling on your chest. Your hands messily spread the spit over your tits, teasing your sensitive nipples. “Wanna cum all over your face—mmm, fuck me!” He groaned.

You pulled away again, taking a deep breath. You grinned when his cock twitched, a small giggle erupting from your chest. “You’re so close to cumming! I love it. Do I make you feel good, huh?” You cooed, dragging your fingers over his head. His cock looked even prettier dripping with your saliva.

“Can I feel your pussy? Please, sweetheart? I need it so bad,” he begged. You sat there on your knees, processing the words he said. You usually never let anyone fuck you at these glory holes, but you could think of the next best thing.

“How about a pussy job? Would you like that, baby?” You questioned, waiting for his answer while you slipped your soaked panties off. You dipped your fingers in between your folds, letting out a small gasp from how wet you were. “You got me so wet.” You slapped your pussy a few times, a lewd wet sound filling the room. “Hear that?”

“Goddamn you.” His cock twitched just from hearing how wet you were. “Let me feel her, please—fuckkk me,” he breathily said once he felt your hand grip his cock and rub his tip over your sopping slit.

You were bet over, using the chair as support while the other reached over and guided his cock along your pussy, his head rubbing between your folds and nudging your puffy clit. Your jaw went slack, eyes fluttering shut. Moans could be heard on either side of the wall. He desperately wanted to shove himself inside your gummy walls and fuck you until you passed out. “Cum all over my pussy, I know you want to.”

“Fuck, fuck, shit,” he grunted. “I’m cumming! Oh, sweetheart I’m fucking cumming!” Not even seconds after saying those words, you felt hot spurts coat your pussy, the man moaning and you continued to rub his cock all over your sloppy pussy.

“Yes!” You laughed, gasping from how he was still going. “Oh my goodness!” You felt him twitch one last time in your hand before you pulled away, sitting on the chair and spreading your legs to see at the mess he created. Curiosity got the better of you as you dipped your fingers in, scooping some of his cum and licking it clean off. “Mmmm, you taste so good!” He let out a breathy chuckle.

“Thank you for that, baby.” He pulled away from the glory hole, cock disappearing. You heard him put his pants back on. “Can I ask you a question?”

You kneeled back down towards the glory hole. “Yes, what is it?”

“Will you allow me to see who you are?” He sounded like he was nervous to ask the question.

“There’s no fun in a glory hole if you know who the person is,” you replied in a playful tone.

You heard the man let out a small laugh before sighing. “I guess you’re right. Until next time then.”

“Until next time.” You smiled to yourself. One thought sat in the back of your mind, though. Why did this man sound so familiar to you? It was a forbidden glory hole ‘rule’, but you couldn’t help yourself from peeking through the hole in hopes to catch a glimpse of the man on the other side. You noticed a familiar watch on his right hand, his figure coming more into view when he walked towards the door. An audible gasp escaped your lips when you saw the blonde hair. It was none other than Nanami Kento, your co-worker who you regularly greet at the office, the man who sits in the cubicle right next to you.

#☆—sickslimez #anime #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x reader smut #nanami bento x reader smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami smut oneshot #nanami smut drabble #jjk smut oneshot #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

[highvern]

Patterns I

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (21+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: fuckboy(ish) wonwoo, friends(?) with benefits, multiple sex scenes, oral (f. & m. receiving), choking, face fucking, penetrative sex

Length: ~10k

Note: woooohoooo part 1 done. let me know what you guys think! thank you @gyuswhore for being my beta and talking me down from a complete meltdown lmao

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“And if you look at this chart, you can see profit margins over the past three quarters have steadily increased…”

Mona drones on and on. You try to listen and nod along but there’s only so much enthusiasm that can be faked for a last minute afternoon meeting on a Friday. Maybe if she was saying anything with an ounce of meaning you’d pay attention. But the numbers she spout off on record profits only confirm what the company who hired your team already knows: if they give their employees more work for less pay, they’ll make more money.

The vibration of your phone wakes you up. Peering into your lap under the table, you see your roommate’s name flash across the screen.

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: ruby’s tonight Y/N: Do I have a choice?

You don’t even lock your phone before she responds.

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: nope!

“Y/N, do you mind sharing the latest reports?” 

Head jerking up, you meet Mona’s gaze across the room. She flashes a tight smile, clearly having caught your moment of distraction. Lucky for you, you could recite the reports in your sleep.

You smile and say all the right things; make all the right jokes. Just enough personality they feel special but not so much they feel like you’re a real human being outside of your job.

“All right. I think we’ve covered everything.” Mona claps. “Edgar and I will be on call this weekend if anything comes up.”

Shuffling out with the rest of your coworkers, you beeline back to your desk. 

Mona breezes by, slamming the door to her office shut.

“Do you think Mona has eyes in the back of her head?” Edgar asks, peeking over the wall dividing your cubicles.

Without looking away from the email crowding your screen you quip, “No, but I hear she sleeps in a coffin.”

“Huh. I thought that was just the hottest office furniture tread for execs.”

You snort in response. 

Mona was a hard ass but she was good at her job. 

“Anyway, any plans this weekend?”

“Get drunk and watch Love Island.”

Edgar gasps, hand to his chest like a scandalized debutant. “You wild woman.”

The next two hours crawl by. Not even the usual side projects keep you entertained, giving you time to research the new art installation downtown Lisa mentioned visiting. 

Hopefully buying tickets as her early birthday present will get you off the hook for tonight.

In true Lisa fashion, a surprise gift means celebration. And the best place to celebrate is Ruby’s.

Smoke chokes the air, bodies upon bodies packed into the space of the dingy bar on a Friday night. The chill of the outside stops at the threshold of the door, sweltering heat greeting you and your friends as you join the crows eager to celebrate the weekend.

It’s almost too dark to see faces but Mingyu’s head of dark hair stands above the rest from his perch in the corner. Lisa’s hand finds yours, and your other hand find’s Amina as you shoulder towards the table he’s claimed for the night. The bass of whatever remix blaring through the DJ’s speakers thrums through the crush of drunk patrons like a frantic heartbeat, rattling your bones with each step deeper into the space.

The glossy surface of the table is already littered with cups and beer bottles. Mingyu cuts his conversation with Wonwoo short to greet your group, smiling over Lisa’s head already buried in his chest. Wonwoo's only acknowledgement is a short nod over the top of the bottle he lifts to his lips. 

A pair of not so sly eyes wander down your front, tracing across the deep v of your top, baring your sternum between the swell of your breasts. You burn under Wonwoo’s blatant gawking, breath stalled and face hot but none of your friends appear to notice the electricity crackling between you two, intoxicated brains filling with lewd ideas. 

Needing a reprieve, you slither to the bar in search of a drink. Slipping between the sweaty bodies as they part, Amina follows close behind. A few shots and a beer later, you stumble towards the dance floor with laughter on your lips and the bitter singe of alcohol on your tongue.

The crowd of strangers accepts you, swallowing you into the churning chaos immediately. A few familiar faces stand out in the crowd as you shift through the sway.

Looking over the shoulder of the random person in front of you, a mess of limbs better known as Lisa and Mingyu flashes into view; Soonyoung and Eva no better next to them. Over their embrace, you spot Amina dancing with a pretty stranger of her own, both of them with drunk smiles plastered on their faces. 

Head dizzily bobbing to the music, your eyes slip shut. You know it's Wonwoo at your back, hips following closely, one hand around your waist and the other dragging a path of fire across your thigh. 

This wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in this particular position. Since your roommates started dating, and whenever alcohol was close enough to serve as a believable excuse, you managed to find each other like super charged magnets; gluing together and drowning heady touches.

It wasn’t like anything more happened. That was the excuse you told yourself after the first time. A girls night out Mingyu and Wonwoo happened to stumble upon. You’d still been upset about the breakup with Seungcheol two months prior, indulging in the shitty white wine that only served to fuel your boldness.

You’d never admit seeking out Wonwoo with the knowledge Seungcheol couldn’t stand him; taking sick satisfaction in imagining the look on Seungcheol’s face as you let Wonwoo touch the way previously reserved for him. You pressed against Wonwoo’s front with little care for who saw; a challenging gleam in your glassy eyes, daring him to push away. Not one to be bested, Wonwoo pressed back, and the rest is history.

After the first night of the new game, you went home and came embarrassingly fast to the fantasy of what would have inevitably happened if he’d followed. The week after consisted of staunchly avoiding Wonwoo. Guilt and disgust plagued every waking moment, and if you had to look at him you knew you’d feel worse. 

Your only real connection was your roommate Lisa dating his roommate Mingyu which meant your evasiveness went undetected for nearly a month before Wonwoo managed to corner you at a party and demand to know what your “fucking problem” was. It was then you realized he either didn’t remember what happened or didn’t think it was anything to make such a big deal about. You never asked for specifics but came to the conclusion: If he didn’t care, then why should you? It was just a bit of fun. A game of chicken neither intended to end. 

Each time you came across each other on the weekends after, the stakes increased. One night, you let wandering hands catalog the planes hard muscle hidden underneath the fabric of his shirt. The next, you followed a trail of goosebumps across his neck with tongue and teeth. 

And Wonwoo called your bluff everytime. His thumb tracing against the underside of your breast while delivering a particularly harsh grind of his hips, leaving very little to the imagination of what hid behind the zipper of his jeans. Or when he spun you around, hypnotizing you with his eyes while pawing your ass, dragging your core across his thigh wedged between your legs.

But whatever transpired fizzled away by the time the night ended, both of you content to go separate ways and ignore whatever was left on the dance floor (or occasionally a wall). Tonight would be no different. It never was. It never would be.

Wonwoo was fun to play with but that's all. Throw him flirty smiles, indulge in the bold touches, take a thrill in the chase and then retreat to the safety of the bar or drag one of your friends to the bathroom for a break. He let go without any argument; something you found disappointing much to your own chagrin. But Wonwoo’s eyes never left your figure the second it left his arms. Even if he found a new partner, he would watch you while he did everything he had already done and then all the things he would have done if you stayed.

“Come home with me,” he whispers in your ear, more of a command than a question, breaking the delicate silence surrounding your unspoken attraction.

The air in your chest thickens to a sludge. For a second, you think you misheard him, possibly hallucinating that he’s spoken at all. With the thrum of music and shouts it’s not out of the question.

Unable to turn in his tight grip, you settle for leaning back against his shoulder, neck stretching, giving him a direct view down your top, his eyes privy to the fact that you hadn’t worn a bra. His chest plastered against your back heaves with a heavy breath as you continue to move against him. 

Wonwoo tries again, his hand squeezing your waist gently, pulling you closer to his body to feel the evidence of his arousal. “Come home with me.” 

It's just the next level to the game, you think. The fantasy is tempting; taking you back to his apartment, spreading you out across his bed and making good on all the promises he’s teased into your skin for months.

If he wants to play, you’ll play too.

“What’s in it for me?” you hum, lips brushing his ear in a mimic of his motion moments ago. 

Wonwoo responds with another curl of his hips against your ass.

God, he’s good at this. Wonwoo is the only guy to spark any kind of interest since Seungcheol left months ago. Not for lack of trying but they were either too tall, too short, weird hair, awful laugh. The list of excuses goes on and on. Subconsciously, you’d been comparing them all to the man behind you and found each of them lacking. But if Wonwoo wants to progress to the next level, he’ll need to work for it.

“Not convincing enough,” you chide.

The hand on your thigh pauses, taking a second to squeeze the supple flesh before setting a new course. Wonwoo moves slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop his advance if you wish. Not sensing an objection, he pushes forward. Even over the thick denim of your jeans, Wonwoo’s palm scorches against the zipper. Continuing lower, he grinds the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy, nothing more than mockery of the real thing but it has you shuddering all the same. The slope of your shoulder stings under his mouth, licking waves of fire across the nerves with each nip of his teeth. 

Wonwoo pants against the shell of your ear on the next rock of his hand, laughing as your nails dig into his wrist before he whispers, “Unless you want our friends to watch, trust me.” 

You need to see his face; need to look in Wonwoo’s eyes and find out if he’s trying to rile you up or if he’s serious.

This time when you move, Wonwoo allows you to turn in his hold. The look in his eyes tells you he would take you right here if he thought for a second you’d let him. He isn’t trying to just get a rise out of you and see you squirm. Wonwoo isn’t playing a game anymore. 

He wants you.

You nod once and Wonwoo has you both out the door and on the way to his place before the song ends.

The cold metal of the door bites into your skin, bowing your chest straight into Wonwoo’s as he crowds against you, arms caging you in on both sides. His lips are busy surveying the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping until he pauses at the hollow of your throat. His teeth raze against the sensitive skin, tongue darting out to lave against the marks he’s determined to leave. Wonwoo listens closely to the sounds leaving your throat, focusing his ministrations whenever an exceptionally satisfied purr slips out.

He takes a step forward at the feel of your hand pushing its way into his jacket, rewarding the tease of your fingers across his stomach with a suck against your jaw. The sharp pain of your nails across his scalp forces a quiet groan out his lips; something you file away for later. 

“Get us inside before your neighbors catch us with my hand down your pants,” you gasp, giving his hair a particularly harsh yank to pull him away from your breasts peeking out from the low cut of your top.

“Wouldn’t mind that,” he mumbles, diving back. 

But Wonwoo concedes, grabbing his keys from his pocket while remaining focused on leaving his mark on your sternum. 

Despite your request, you do everything but make it easier for him; thumb dipping into the waistband of his boxers before slipping inside, cupping the straining bulge confined under the tight fabric. Wonwoo falters under your attention, pressing his hips into you until you're crushed between his body and the door. When Wonwoo finally fumbles the key into the lock, the door flies open under your combined weight.

Using the momentum, Wonwoo crowds you back to the wall just inside, slamming the door shut with his foot, returning where he left off without missing a beat. A hand tilts your chin back to give him more room, and you realize he hasn’t kissed you yet. Twisting the front of his shirt, you resolve to change that.

Pulling back, Wonwoo’s brows arching in confusion, mouth falling opening to complain at being interrupted again but snapping shut when you attempt to pull him forward. 

But a hair's breadth away Wonwoo stops.

“What do you want?”

You won’t beg. If anyone is cracking first it’ll be Wonwoo. Just like he did at the bar not too long ago. 

“If you won’t tell me then I can’t give it to you.” He moves forward, nose tracing along your throat, breath fanning across your neck. One of his arms moves to the space between your body and the wall, pulling until his thigh is bracketed by yours. The hard muscle is nothing short heaven against the seam of your jeans, invoking a traitorous whimper from your throat.

You manage a chaste kiss against the side of his mouth before he darts out of range. 

“Tell me and you can have it,”  Wonwoo says, cocking his head back, looking down his nose at you from behind the wire frames of his glasses; pupils blown. His eyes close and he leans forward again before continuing, “Tell me what you want, and you can have everything.”

His teeth trail across the shell of your ear on the last word and suddenly it's all too much. The rasp of his voice, the flex of his thigh, the layers of clothing separating your bodies. If you don’t get relief soon you’ll both implode.

“Kiss me.”

You feel Wonwoo’s satisfied smile a second before your lips meet, lighting the fuse for what's to come. There’s no gentleness in the connection, instead, months of insatiable need leads the way. Parting your lips, you suck his own between your teeth until it's swollen in retaliation. Wonwoo angles your head back with a gentle tug of your hair, immediately swallowing your gasp at his roughness. The hand wrapped around the middle of your back flexes, urging, no, begging you to grind against him. You oblige with embarrassing eagerness.

Your hand finds its way down Wonwoo’s front again, fingers firm and demanding. Tracing the zipper of his jeans up and down in time with your movement against his leg, the heel of your hand presses forward, causing his hips to cant up against the pressure. The motion is a mock of what he was doing in the crowded bar minutes ago. Just enough to rile him up and to piss him off until his hands drop and squeeze your ass so hard it hurts.

Refusing to let your mouths part, Wonwoo drags you down the hallway towards his room. It takes longer than it should, both of you stopping to force the other into the wall, bodies writhing against one another in search of friction and pleasure. At one point you consider letting him fuck you right their on the floor but he pushes through the door to his room just before you can unzip his pants.

Finally inside, Wonwoo herds you towards the bed in the corner. The back of your knees hit the side, bending as you land with a soft bounce. Wonwoo follows swiftly, settling himself on his elbows before diving back into your neck again. His hips slot into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing forward to search for the heat he knows is there. You greedily return the movement, hips curling up, savoring the drag of his hard cock. Wonwoo sucks another bruise onto your neck, high enough you’ll have to hide it in the morning but you're so drunk on the idea of what is going to happen next you can’t even feign outrage. 

The strap of your flimsy top falls down and Wonwoo moves to explore the new span of skin. His lips drag over the uncovered swell of your breast, sloppy kisses trailing over the silky skin. Cocking his head to the side, he sucks a nipple through the thin black fabric. Your hips buck, back arching at the new sensation. The angle of Wonwoo’s cock is just right, pulling moan after moan from your throat. He’s so focused on what he’s doing he can’t be bothered to snicker at how he turns you into an aching puddle of want.

Clothes come off in a blur. You watch his abs flex as he rips his shirt over his head, eyes tracing the dark thatch of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pants. Soon, yours is gone too, lost on the floor. Wonwoo's eyes delight in the sight of you bare before him, with nipples puckered and breasts heavy with excitement. He ducks back down, mouthing at the sensitive bud, drowning in your breathy whines and whimpers. Using his hand, his calloused thumb massages the one his mouth had abandoned, pinching and flicking until you’re left raw and aching.

“Wonwoo,” you cry, hands ripping at the sheets when his teeth come out to play. 

He pulls back from your breasts, in a frenzy to remove your pants while his knees fall to the ground on the side of the bed. You arch up to help him rip the damning fabric away. An ember of fury sparks, furious with yourself for wearing jeans over the skimpy skirt Lisa had offered.

None the wiser, Wonwoo looks between your legs like he’s found an oasis in a desert. You realize too late they’re nothing impressive. Pale pink cotton; simple, practical. Just like your pants, since getting fucked tonight wasn’t even a remote possibility when you left your apartment. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t even seem to care. When you dare to look at his face, worried by the sudden pause in his actions, you find he’s not even blinking. His thumb finds your entrance through the fabric, shallowly dipping inside before moving back and massaging teasing circles over the damp spot.

Pride and ego long forgotten, you beg. “Wonwoo, please.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t give in. Focusing on the curve of your thigh, nose etching along the strained muscle while he continues teasing touches over your underwear. The wet of his tongue comes out when he reaches the hem of your underwear. So close to where you want him but not close enough.

“Please.”

The pathetic crack of your voice is rewarded with firmer fingers and his lips against the sticky crotch of your panties; the heat of his mouth right over your entrance as he laps at your release.

Another beg and he moves aside the thin strip of fabric, curling his tongue into your entrance before sucking at your swollen clit. 

The relief is short lived. Somehow, Wonwoo knows exactly how to touch and tease you, driving you up the wall only to pull you back down. One hand finds your knee, forcing it away when you try to crush his head between your thighs at the first prod of his long fingers inside you.

He slips another finger inside, his tongue continuing to swipe at your bundle of nerves, just as desperate to give you what you want as you are to receive it. Glancing down at him again, you find a scene worthy of being immortalized in a painting. His brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes pinched tight while he works to get you off. 

A pause to take a breath is all the reprieve you’re granted before Wonwoo dives back in, moaning under the sting of your nails on his scalp; encouraging you to hold him there and use him, to come for him. The symphony of your combined noises floods the room. The squelch of his fingers, rubbing up against the place that drives you mad. The wet noises of his mouth, your arousal mixing with his spit; his noises when you pull at his hair, vibrating against your cunt and pulling your spine into a harsh curve. 

You can’t help but watch him. Enamoured with how right he looks between your legs, skin slips together where his shoulders hold your legs up. Even the contrast of his hand on your knee fuels the fire.

He peers up at you when you call his name again. Eyes burning into your own. Like he can read your mind. Like he agrees this is the best place for him to be.

You hear yourself far away, chanting his name as you shatter into a million pieces. Clenching around Wonwoo’s fingers with a strength you didn't know you possessed, your hips ride them until your muscles lock and jerk. The smear of fluid across your thighs, slipping your ass and onto the bed is lewd. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t stop, working you through it like his own release is on the line. Licking and sucking and fucking you with his fingers until you finally manage to pull him away with a choked cry of his name. Even then, his hand continues pistoning into you as your mouths find one another hungrily. 

There's a sick satisfaction in your gut at the taste on his mouth. Your arousal coats his chin, his cheeks, even the tip of his nose is wet where it digs into your face as you suck his tongue.

Moving to his feet, Wonwoo bends over you, lips never straying from yours. He fails to crowd you down into the mattress like he intends. Freezing when your hands pushing his pants down the rest of the way. His cock bobs, the nearly purple head leaking. If there was any doubt he didn’t find pleasure going down on you before, the evidence of his enjoyment sits hard and heavy in your palm. An exploratory squeeze has Wonwoo’s chin dropping to his chest, a sharp breath leaving his nose.

Sliding off the bed and to your knees, you peek up at him through your lashes, letting the tip rest against parted lips. When Wonwoo drags his head back up, looking down his nose, your tongue darts out to catch some of his pre-cum, receiving another groan in response. A thought that has you blushing rears its head. 

He’ll probably like it, you think.

You let one of her hands trail down while kissing across the velvety shaft his length. Wonwoo watches closely, eyes widening for a second when you find the apex of your thighs, dipping down to collect the lingering slickness. Once satisfied, you exchange your grip on his cock and quirk an eyebrow. Stroking him coyly.

You don’t look away from his eyes even though every instinct tells you to hide from the heat in his gaze. Your palm catches at the tip, thumb brushing his leaking slit. More evidence of his arousal trickles out and you lap it up quickly.

“Shit,” Wonwoo hisses. “Fuck, you’re so good.” 

One of Wonwoo’s hands finds your cheek, helping you find a comfortable pace. Settling the back of your head against the bed, drag him forward by his ass, content to let him use your mouth the way you used his. Wonwoo stumbles for a second at the sudden movement, hands finding the bed to prevent himself from collapsing. He peers down in question. 

“Want you to fuck my mouth,” you pant, quickly taking him back in, going as deep as possible without gagging.

“Fuuuuck,” Wonwoo rasps, moving the hand on the side of your face to the back of your head. He pins you in place with his hips, giving a shallow, almost hesitant thrust as he discovers your limits.

You zone out when he finds a rhythm, hand at the base of his cock to keep him from bottoming out in your throat, the one cradling his balls dropping to trace the inside of his thigh. Eventually, Wonwoo lets himself go, savoring the pressure of your tongue when you lap against the tip as he pulls out. His abs twitch at the sight of drool leaking from the corners of your stuffed mouth, lips stretched and bruised around his cock. 

Opening your eyes, you look right at him; punching the air from his chest as you moan around his cock, the vibration forcing his head back, neck bared again as a bead of sweat settles in the hollow of his throat.

“Touch yourself,” Wonwoo commands, breaking the melody of whimpers and groans.

You disregard his command, content with focusing on untying him from his loose tether to sanity.

Not one to be ignored, Wonwoo pulls away on the next stroke. You follow, attempting to trail forward and suck him back down your throat but Wonwoo’s hand knots in your hair. He yanks your head back until his cock is just out of range. Looking up at him, you do nothing to hide the annoyance at such a sudden disruption.

“Touch. Yourself. ” he lets out tightly, enunciating each syllable. Equally annoyed but willing to make a point. 

“Wanna watch me?” you goad, smug as the tips of his ears redden. 

Instead of brushing it off, Wonwoo takes the bait.

“Yeah I do,” he says, one hand leaving your hair, guiding the tip of his cock across the seam of your lips, letting out a humorless laugh when your tongue reaches out to meet it on instinct. “Wanna watch while you suck my cock because you’re a good girl.” 

He lets you take the head, teeth grinding under the dig of your tongue into the slit. But any attempt to take more is punished with another tug of your hair. Until his hand circles your throat and he pulls you off completely. 

“Right, Y/N?”

The praise goes straight to your head, breath stunted. You barely nod before Wonwoo moves his hips forward again, slowly resuming their previous rhythm at the promise of seeing you put on a show. Two fingers slip in with ease, disappointment bubbling when the stretch doesn’t come anywhere close to his but you’ll play along for now if it means getting to feel his cum on your tongue.

Wet, messy noises echo in the room. You hollow your cheeks, hand acting as a bumper while letting his cock kiss the back of your throat. Wonwoo’s hips stutter when you swallow around him. The tension in his muscles doubles your effort, set on the satisfaction of making him cum from just your mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Wonwoo hisses, pulling you off.

Wonwoo hauls you up into the bed, aggressively crowding you towards the pillows. The cool sheets sting against your back, but you focus on getting another fist around his cock. Wonwoo intercepts your plans before you can make it below his navel. He pins the offending appendage next to your head; grip loose enough you could break if you wanted, but the tease of his dominance turns you on even more and it's not long before he has both hands above your head, and a disapproving look on his face.

“If you don’t want me to come on your thigh, I suggest keeping your hands to yourself,” he states, leaning towards the bedside table, searching for a condom.

“Didn’t think you’d be that easy,” you bite back. Planting your feet on the bed, your hips grind up into his. 

“Says the woman who begged for my cock,” Wonwoo grinds out, flattening his chest into yours, teasing with exactly what you asked for.

You're suddenly hit by how much stronger Wonwoo is than you. Able to have your entire body pinned like it’s nothing while working the condom on at the same time. You knew he worked out, broad shoulders and narrow waist giving him away; but having that strength used you sends a swirl of butterflies through your stomach.

Wonwoo resorts to ripping open the packet with his teeth, hips easing up to quickly roll it down his length. He rubs himself through your folds, collecting the wetness and repeatedly tapping himself to your clit. You’re about to flip him around and take matters into your own hands when he catches on your entrance and presses home in a slow thrust.

He slides deep. Deeper than Seungcheol, deeper than anyone you’ve ever been with. You barely get a chance to savor it before he’s moving, wasting no time before working up a pace meant to drive you both mad. 

“Shit,” you curse.

Wonwoo huffs into your neck, tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “Yeah? Feel good?”

“Soooo good.” 

Wonwoo lets go of your hands, tangling one the sheets, the other searching for the top of the metal headboard. The change in position folds you in half, giving him the leverage to fuck as deep as possible. Finding your hands free, one claws at his back, leaving bright red lines in its wake. The other grabs for his ass, squeezing the muscle there, helping him press forward. His balls clapping against the swell of your ass drives you closer to hysteria. 

Your second orgasm rushes forward, resting on his lips finding yours. The connection is bruising, all teeth and tongues. The hand on his ass falls to play with yourself and Wonwoo breaks away to watch.

“Like that, Y/N?” Wonwoo bites, whispering right into your ear. “Fuck, you're so tight, baby.”

His words only add to the inferno. The need to come overwhelms you, demanding satisfaction to the point it hurts. But you need more. Needs something you can’t name and only Wonwoo can give. 

Frustration twists your features, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tense. Almost as if he senses your oncoming tantrum, Wonwoo drops more of his weight, pressing you into the mattress and filling you to the brink.

 “Be a good girl,” Wonwoo coos, hip punctuating each word while his teeth tug at your earlobe. “Come for me.”

His permission is the key. Bombs explode behind your eyelids, cascading colors against the black and white. Loud moans rush from your throat to fill his room, muscles locked, body convulsing with endorphins. You want to kiss him again, until you can’t breathe, until you stop needing oxygen and adapt to survive on the taste of his mouth. 

Wonwoo must feel the same, meeting you in a lazy kiss, too fucked out to put in more effort. He swallows every whimper, the syllables of his name while he fucks you through your high. The wetness smeared between your bodies echoes all the motions, his pistoning hips driving more and more from your worn cunt. 

His own high rushes for him at light speed. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours. You burn the last bit of energy you possess to open your eyes and find his. Wonwoo’s face is tight as a thin sheen of sweat covers his body. All you want now is to see him cum, give him as much pleasure as he’s given you. Reaching up, your lips brush his ear one last time.

“Wanna feel you come,” you sigh. “Please, Woo.”

The responding groan signals success. His hips stutter forward, a deep grunt bursts from his chest. If you weren’t exhausted, you’d demand to go again; to fuck him again and again just to see the twitch of his lips as he empties himself into you, the grind of his teeth, and shudder of his chest. But Wonwoo gives one more hard drive of his hips before collapsing, completely spent.

You don't know how long you stay like that, drifting in and out of consciousness as sweat dries, and your thighs becoming uncomfortably sticky. When Wonwoo moves to pull out, a surprising whine rips from your throat. 

“Shower?” he asks, husky voice breaking the lingering silence.

You finally crack an eye open at Wonwoo’s voice, and find him looking at you with soft eyes. Uh oh. Warning bells fire but you’re too tired to care. A shower sounds lovely.

Wonwoo hauls you up, leading you into his small bathroom. The water in the shower is already running, steam escaping the stall as he ushers you under. The scratches at his back contrast brightly against his pale skin, a few bite marks spattered across his chest. You know you look equally debauched but the lull of warm water calms any concerns. The silence is comfortable, thick as you move like zombies. Wonwoo passes his body wash without a word, moving to shampoo his hair. Swapping between the brutally frigid air and the comforting warm water under the shower head, you both race to finish up quickly. Once satisfied, Wonwoo shuts off the faucet and grabs the towels from the hook on the wall. He hands you one before stepping out to dry himself. A spare toothbrush waits on the counter when you exit the stall.

Wonwoo leaves first, heading back to his room to dress. It gives you the opportunity to look in the mirror for the first time. Your skin glows, both from the steam and Wonwoo’s attention. Across your throat, bruises cluster like a necklace, splotches of darkness maring the skin. Unfolding the towel, you find more littered across your breasts, and an impressive one on the inside of your thigh. 

After the shock fades, exhaustion creeps back in. It had to be far into the early hours of the morning. You hope Mingyu stayed with Lisa at your shared apartment. Having to face Wonwoo in the morning was enough horror, but if Mingyu heard anything then you would never be able to look him in the eye again despite having heard your roommate and him more times than you can count.

Returning to Wonwoo’s room, you see him already under the covers, spread out on his stomach with his face squashed into the pillow. On his desk sits a tshirt and a pair of old shorts. Hanging the towel up in his bathroom, you snag the shirt and pull it on.

Finding your pants, you fish out your phone and see the time: 3:47AM. A few missed calls from Amina, several dozen texts from the group chat, and one from Lisa that reads “You better not be where I think you are” clutter the screen. 

There's no point in arguing the accusation. She has your location, you know she checked it before she went to bed. And in the morning you’ll have to answer every inane question that pops into her head. But for now, you need to sleep.

Sliding open the group text, you send a quick “I'm alive, see u in the morning for brunch?” tossing your phone aside.

Your head hits the pillow and you’re out like a light.

The dream you’re lost in is lovely. A faceless figure bends you over a desk, your heated face pressed against the glossy wood. Naked as the day you were born, nothing protecting your nipples from rubbing against the cold surface, hardening until you hiss from sensitivity. Large warm palms massage your ass, hands pushing upwards, lightly parting the cheeks to give him more leverage to lick at your leaking hole. You can feel him moan, echoing your own sounds of pleasure as he indulges. One hand finds its way back to his head, fingers tangling in his short hair, holding him in place as you rise on tiptoes to move against his mouth. He feels familiar but it doesn’t matter who he is, more so what he plans to do. Just as a thumb swipes against your other hole, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips, it all comes crashing down.

You claw at the tendrils of pleasure slipping past to no avail. Harsh whispers outside your door pull you awake as they gain volume. It isn’t out of the ordinary to hear snippets of your roommates’ conversations as they pass down the hall towards their own rooms. Having the first room off the kitchen was the sacrifice you made to have a bigger closet and a better view. Usually though, Lisa and Amina had the decency to not have a full blowout so early, and on a weekend no less.

As the whispers crescendo into a one sided screaming match, you make out Lisa and Mingyu’s voices on the other side of the thin wood. 

“Mingyu if you don’t move out of my way there will be TWO BODIES TO CLEAN UP.” 

Lisa is pissed, using a tone of voice saved for rare occasions. Occasions you rarely witnessed Mingyu be on the receiving end of. Whatever he had done, he better pray Lisa forgives him. He also better pray you forgive him for working Lisa’s temper up so early in the morning.

“Shut the fuck up!” you yell, voice thick with sleep, refusing to open your eyes against the light trickling in from the window above. Snuggling deeper in the soft covers, you try to force yourself back asleep, hoping to reunite with the anonymous dream man.

When did the window get above your bed? 

You shoot up, instantly regretting the decision. Splinters of pain shoot behind your left eye causing you to collapse back into the pillows to find reprieve. The grumble next to you sends your heart racing.

“I’m going to kill her,” a gravely male voice threatens.

Turning on your side, you brave the torturous sunlight to catch Wonwoo’s profile. His face is scrunched in annoyance, eyes shut as he too tries to get lost in the blankets. He drags the comforter over your heads, pulling you towards him to hide in the curve of your throat.

It all comes rushing back. Going home with him, your dirty deeds, the shared shower. You beg the powers that be to kill you when you remember how you begged with embarrassing ease.

Outside his door, Lisa bellows and forces the door open; sending it cracking against the wall with the force. 

The blanket rips down, uncovering who's hiding underneath. She only manages to pull it below your shoulder before you and Wonwoo realize what's happening and clutch at the fabric. Thank god you both are wearing clothes.

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo’s voice is acidic as he looks to Mingyu over Lisa’s head. Mingyu at least has the decency to look apologetic as Lisa acts like an overly concerned mother who just found her daughter with a boy in her bed.

“See? Y/N is alive, we can leave now,” Mingyu tries in vain to placate his girlfriend. Lisa snatches her hand away from him when he attempts to pull her out of Wonwoo’s room.

Lisa’s eyes take in your tousled hair, the bruises at both your necks, the clothes littered on the floor haphazardly. She isn’t stupid, she knows exactly what has happened. Lisa also knows Wonwoo wouldn’t take advantage of you, but she is still protective nonetheless. The amused look spreading across her face nearly sends you out the window and to the cement several stories below.

“Oh my god, are you fifteen?” Her question is pointed at Wonwoo, catching the string of hickies marking your neck.

“How about you get the fuck out of my room?” Wonwoo bites, raising his voice. He burrows under your chin, dragging the blanket over his head once again.

“We’ll talk about this later!” Lisa calls as Mingyu finally drags her out the door, her voice is muffled by the slam of it shutting but you clearly hear her yell, “Brunch is in an hour!” 

Finally left alone, you mind races to prepare for the interrogation waiting for you. Wonwoo appears to be unaware of any such troubles. Cuddling down into the swell of your breasts, he’s already trailing back towards sleep. 

Despite yourself, the hand stuck under him rises up to gently trace shapes across the expanse of his back. The warm skin lulls you into a trance as the memories from the hours prior replay.

“Are you sure I can stay?” A deep yawn warps your voice. You’re  already halfway under the covers, hoping he doesn’t change his mind. If you have to stay awake any longer you’ll have a meltdown.

“Yes.” His face is still pushed into his pillow, voice distorted by the barrier and slurred with his sleep. “Now shut up and sleep.”

And you do just that. Shocking, given you’re a horrible bed partner; tossing and turning most of the night, waking frequently. Seungcheol experienced many grumpy mornings courtesy of your poor sleep hygiene after a sleepover. But in Wonwoo’s bed, your restlessness decides to take the night off, allowing you to sleep like a rock.

It can’t have been more than a couple hours before you awake again. Despite the short snooze, you’re more rested than you’ve been in months. Stretching with a yawn, you find what roused you awake. 

Somehow Wonwoo found you in his sleep, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, body firm against your back. He’s hot skin and hard muscle, the tent in his boxers sliding roughly across the naked skin of your thighs. Cursing yourself for forgoing the shorts he laid out, you try and twist away only for Wonwoo’s length to settle between the dip of your ass.

You freeze solid. Listening to the sound of his breathing stop then even out once again. Waiting to confirm he’s still asleep, you try moving away again only for his hips to press against you once you wiggle against him. Body acting on its own, your spine curls, sending your ass back into his crotch. 

And then Wonwoo’s arm around your waist flexes and he thrusts forward. 

Shit.

“Can I help you?” he asks, face buried somewhere between your shoulder blades, nose tracing your spine until he finds the bare skin of your neck to leave heated gossamer kisses.

There’s nothing left to lose. You’ve already fucked. Wonwoo face to face with your most intimate parts, and you the same. You begged him to cum inside you for Christ's sake. Giving another curl of your hips, you decide to meet his challenge.

“Can you?” you whisper into the darkness, eyes sliding close again as a tired breath leaves your nose. It's less of a goad, and more of a subtle beg for his attention.

Wonwoo drags the hand wrapped around your waist downward, wedging it between your thighs gently. You’re already wet from the brief movements against one another. He wastes no time, immediately framing your clit with two fingers, teasing friction to warm you up. The first twitch into his hand has his fingers dropping, pushing into your entrance as you parts your legs to make more room. His movements are sluggish but he placates your want the best he can.

One of your hands slides under the covers, moving behind your back to grab him. The unmistakable heat greets you through the fabric of his underwear. His breath stutters against your back, his chest pressed tightly against your back like a second skin. Wonwoo jerks forward through your fist, clothed tip prodding against the soft curve of your ass when you reach the base.

Continuing to move just like that, you both are more than content to get off like this, much too tired to put in any real effort. But when you push down his boxer just enough to feel the hot velvet skin of his tip against the dip of your spine, leaking from light touches, Wonwoo decides he wants more. Needs more. 

He pushes your hand away, directing himself between your legs, resting his tip at your entrance. With shallow thrusts forward, he lets himself catch on the ring of muscle just inside, barely parting your walls. The thought of him returning deep inside you, condom nowhere to be found, makes you drool. At some point Wonwoo’s hand finds your waist again, this time under the fabric of the flimsy t-shirt. The thick cotton bunches across your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples while his hand splays between and pulls you against him.

You have half a mind to let him fuck you like this, raw, half asleep, tucked under the covers in the silence of his room. The other half blares with sirens and red lights flashing DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! 

The louder part of your brain, the one that sounds suspiciously like when Amina scolded you for not using condoms with Seungcheol after getting an IUD, wins. 

It takes all the strength you possess  to break the trance Wonwoo has. His lips have taken to mouthing at the back of your neck, his nose tracing the notches of your spine while his tongue sends goosebumps blooming.

“Condom.” you finally manage to breathe out, voice pushing past the thick blanket of lust and fatigue.

The hand on your chest flies off, moving in the direction of the bedside table. Within seconds Wonwoo wraps himself in the latex and pushes inside.

The stretch is perfect, muscles already accommodating his languid thrusts inside you. His hips are tucked tightly along your ass, barely a sliver of space between your bodies. One of Wonwoo’s hands reaches back under your shirt to thumb your sore nipples, letting a heavy flesh rest in his palm. The arm propped under your head reaches out, Wonwoo’s fingers twisting in the pillow cases. The web of veins and muscles flex with each cant, almost ripping the fabric of the sheet apart when you clench around him. 

As if having a mind of its own, a hand trails up his neck, cradling the back of his head and tangling in short locks of hair. Wonwoo hitches his chin over your shoulder, leaning forward to moan right into your ear. Your other hand takes the abandoned post at your clit, determined to make yourself cum and pass back out in the next five minutes. 

Unlike the explosions earlier, your orgasm crawls up slowly, bubbling to the surface in a smooth simmer. Your thighs tighten, twitching as the pot boils over and melting you into Wonwoo’s chest. He follows you over the edge quickly, hips continuing their fluid rhythm until they stutter against your ass; shuddering breaths leaving his chest, a quiet groan of satisfaction punctuating his content. You can’t move even if your life depends on it, heaviness settling in your muscles like concrete.

You're already descending back into the realm of dreams when Wonwoo slips away.

Wonwoo’s soft snores jolt you back. You’re far too awake to try joining him. And you can’t just stay in his room forever. Glancing around the room, you devise an escape plan. Wonwoo’s position doesn’t lend any subtlety, any effort to move from under him requires you to lift his entire weight.

You sit still for another minute, contemplating the potential pros and cons if he is awake to see you run, away from the sanctuary of his room and into the reality sitting beyond the door. Precisely as you decide to deal with whatever teasing he’ll no doubt hurl your way, Wonwoo shifts, burrowing back into the pillow on his side to provide easy access. Waiting with bated breath, you’re relieved when the muscles of his back expand with a deep inhale as he settles in slumber once again.

Springing out of bed, you collect your phone and wrinkled clothes. The shocking level of cleanliness and organization the room possesses for a man his age aids your quest. However, your underwear appears to be a lost cause. With haste, you search under the bed, eyes scouring the area around his desk, even sneaking a quick glance back towards him to see if the missing garment is mixed with the pillows. All is fruitless as the bright pink garments have disappeared, gone without a trace.

After slipping on your pants with impressive speed, you're out of his bedroom and into the hallway. Body on autopilot, you tiptoe towards the front door.  

The cracked door of Mingyu’s room where Lisa is no doubt waiting to ambush lingers just ahead. You don’t dare to breathe as you breeze past and ruin her plans. The heavy metal of the front door groans at your pull, tensing as noise echoes in the hallway behind you. You’re swift, slipping between the crack in the door frame and into the stairwell before Lisa can even call out your name. By the time Lisa is able to pull the front door back open, you’re down the stairs and halfway through the lobby, beelining for the busy street outside.

Everyone on the street can tell you’re taking a walk of shame; their judgment burning into your skull with each step closer to home. The tale tell signs are clear as day: messy hair, t-shirt clearly belonging to someone else, eyes downcast as you move along the congested sidewalk of a Saturday morning. The only solace is the neck of Wonwoo's shirt covering a majority of the marks staining your skin. 

You don’t breathe until you round the block of your apartment. Thankfully the lobby is empty and so is the elevator as you ride up in stifling silence. Slipping through the crack of the sliding doors, you rush the remaining distance and finally find your way into sanctuary.

The door clicks shut, and the dull thud of your head meeting metal rings a second later; the cool melt against the sweat on your brow is a lovely reprieve.

The sound of a throat clearing down the hall less so.

Glaring over your shoulder, you find Amina leaning over the kitchen island, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively. Lisa clearly informed her of the morning's findings.

Her lips twitch with humor, choking out, “Have a good night?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, launching off the door and to your room. Sharp laughter meets your back.

Hiding away in the bathroom, you cloak yourself in steam and scrub away any remnants of the night. Starting with the piney smell of Wonwoo’s body wash. 

You run through the facts despite wanting nothing more than forgetting the entire ordeal. 

Fact: Wonwoo isn’t as horrible as Seungcheol made you believe.

Opinion: He’s still infuriating.

Fact: You slept with Wonwoo.

Opinion: It wasn’t half bad.

Fact: You won’t do it again.

Thirty minutes later, the hot water runs out and you’re forced back into reality.

She can’t look in the mirror, knowing exactly what you’ll see. The proof that can’t be scrubbed away, the proof that the you let Wonwoo fuck you silly, and that you wouldn’t mind if it happened again. 

Some time later, hidden amongst the piles of blankets littering your bed, you mope. The hood of your sweatshirt tied tightly around your head leaving only your face visible. The TV hums with the drunk gibberish of the reality tv show cast as they laugh and cry over something innocuous.

A soft knock on the door breaks your focus, Amina appearing in the opening.

“Are you still coming to breakfast?” She asks.

“Don’t feel good.”

“Y/N,” Amina sighs, sitting on the edge of your bed. “It’s not that bad.”

You almost swallow your tongue. Of all your friends, Amina dislikes Wonwoo the most. She’s polite as she can be for Lisa and Mingyu’s sake, but everyone knows they get on as well as fire and water. 

“Who are you?” you question, eyes widening at the impersonator perched at your feet.

Amina cackles in response, and you can’t help but join. 

“You had fun, right?” Amina asks, waiting for your nod before continuing.“Okay, then who cares?”

“You don’t?” 

“No,” Amina sighs. “You’ve been…” 

She pauses, weighing her next words. “...down, since Seungcheol left. Maybe this is what you needed to get back out there.”

You start to object but fail to find any evidence against her claim. Seungcheol leaving turned your world upside down. You couldn’t hate him. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to make things work. But there was nothing for you in Seattle, just like there was nothing for him in New York. Other than each other. Somehow it’s much harder when no one is to blame other than unchangeable circumstances.

Amina rubs your knee over the covers. “It’s not my business who you sleep with. Unless you bring him here and I hear you, then I reserve the right to kill you both.” 

“Trust me, it won’t be happening again.”

“Why?” Now it’s Amina’s turn to be shocked. “Was it that bad?”

“No!” You blurt, face heating at the sudden outburst. “It was just a one time thing. Get it out of the system.”

Amina hums. Silence falling between you.

“So… was he better than Seungcheol?” Amina asks like she doesn’t care either way but you know she’s curious. She heard enough times about the lack of chemistry between you and Seungcheol for to have a vested interest in your sex life.

Truthfully, he was. The best experience with Seungcheol paled in comparison next to your night with Wonwoo. 

Taking silence as an answer, Amina stands.

“Get dressed. Eva is already on the way here to pick us up.” 

She leaves with out another word.

Across town, Wonwoo contemplates the ramifications of murder. 

The morning after a night like his should have him walking around like the sun shined out of his ass. Instead, the most annoying person in the city chose to rain on his parade. That person is coincidentally his best friend's girlfriend.

If it hadn’t been for Lisa’s shouts this morning, he’s more than confident you would have agreed to a repeat of the nights events. Maybe even two or three if he was lucky.

But no, you sprinted from his bed the second he feigned sleep. Watching through barely cracked eyes, he almost broke his cover when you nearly fell head first into the door knob, hastily trying to pull your pants up and walk at the same time. 

Wonwoo let you go, no snide comments or crude remarks. He knew if he wanted you to return to his bed then the best way was to bite his tongue. Goading had worked the first time, now he’d have to let your curiosity get the better of you. You would come back sooner or later, and he'd be ready when it happened.

He’d given you a few minutes to find your way out, hoping you avoided Lisa and saved you both the embarrassment. The slam of the front door and lack of screaming informed him of your success. Wanting to make sure you were long gone before he exited his room, Wonwoo took his time brushing his teeth. Catching himself in the mirror, his reflection gave a self-satisfied smirk. The stain of your teeth and lips contrasted against his skin and his back stung along the raised red welts from your nails.

Flicking off the light, Wonwoo heads towards back to his room. Lisa will demand audience sooner or later and it's better if he rips the bandaid off now. In his peripheral, a swatch of pale pink fabric tucked underneath one of the legs of his dresser catches his attention. Ducking down, he puls at the stretch of cotton. Lifting them up to inspect the out of place garment, Wonwoo finds himself face to face with your panties. He huffs a laugh before crumbling them in his hand, and tossing them in the hamper on the way out of his room. 

Lisa waits for him at the dining table; commanding the head seat like a mob boss.

From her perch, she watches him with keen interest that makes his bowl of cereal taste like mush. Mingyu already excused himself to take a shower before Wonwoo sat down, attempting to avoid the ensuing blow out. 

Every question is answered with one word answers or dismissive grunts. Even Lisa’s attempts to bait him into unrelated arguments roll off. Lisa chisels away at any sign of weakness but Wonwoo refuses to give her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. It’s none of her business. Even if you’re her best friend.

Wonwoo counts his blessings when a call comes through her phone, the vibration on the table interrupting her attempt to burn a hole through his skull. Lisa rises to answer, pacing the kitchen while the feminine voice coming out the receiver chatters on. She ducks her head into Mingyu’s room, bidding him farewell. As she passes Wonwoo again on her way out, she gives him another furious look to let him know she isn’t done with their “conversation”. 

To rub salt in the wound, Wonwoo sends her off with an overly friendly smile and a wiggle of his fingers. He wipes down his face when the door slam shuts, shoulders dropping.  He knew hooking up with you might cause problems. He didn’t know they would become evident so quickly, but problems nonetheless. 

Worth it, he thinks 

The look on her face when she came for him made anything Lisa planned to throw his worth the price.

Wonwoo didn’t care what any of them had to say, you both were grown adults. He wanted to sleep with and you wanted to sleep with him. End of conversation. Anyone else’s opinion meant nothing.

And if things go the way he thinks they will, he’ll get to see you in his bed again.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

#ksmutsociety #kvanity #svthub #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #🫡 highvern

[wheresarizona]

Blood in The Cut

summary: You’re distracted while working with Joel, and it almost costs you your lives. Luckily, he knows how to get you out of your head—it’s just a little surprising because you didn’t think he liked you, but here he is eating you out like it’s his last meal.

rating: E (18+!! This is straight-up smut. Age Gap (20-25 years, unspecified), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spit mention, (1) spank, Soft Joel at the end)

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

word count: 2k+

a/n: My friend @dresupi prompted me with Blood in The Cut by K.Flay saying it screamed Joel, and I went, well damn, absolutely, and here we are. Please enjoy 2k of smut. Shoutout to @juletheghoul for giving it a glance. Unbeta’d.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

I reply to comments with my side blog, @wheresarizona-writes

Masterlist

You’re not entirely sure how you got in this position; lying on your back on a dusty old floor in an abandoned building outside the QZ, the bottom half of your body bare, your thighs clenched around a man’s head, his mouth unrelenting on your cunt, your legs trembling, whimpering from sensitivity having come already.

That’s a lie; you know exactly what got you here.

Joel got pissed off at you for not paying attention and almost getting you both killed because you were distracted, and after you’d found a safe place to hole up, he’d grilled you about why you weren’t on top of things like usual. This led to you revealing that your boyfriend had cheated on you, got another girl pregnant, and left you for her.

His eyebrows are pinched, arms crossed over his chest, scowling.

“Gotta get you out of your fuckin’ head, or you’ll get us killed.”

“I’m sorry, Joel. I won’t let it happen again.”

“Take off your pants.”

“What?”

“You fuckin’ heard me. Take off your pants. I’m gonna make you forget about that asshole and save our fuckin’ lives.”

Here you are, Joel’s lips wrapping around your sensitive little clit, your back arching, crying out, thighs clenching harder over his ears, him not caring and feeling him groan into your pussy. Your fingers are gripped tight in his grey hair, cunt pulsing, the muscles in your body tightening up until the knot snaps, and you’re coming again, brokenly moaning as the waves of pleasure move through your body.

Joel says something, words muffled in your pussy that vaguely sound like ‘good girl,’ his mouth moving to lick up your release, lapping at you, while your breaths even out.

His big hands grip your thighs, prying them from his head, as he sits up, your brain a pleasurable haze, thoughts feeling like molasses—slow, thick.

You know he’s talking to you, but you don’t hear him, gasping at the sting of his hand slapping your hip.

Your eyes open, tilting your head to look at him. You’d made a mess of him, the lower part of his face shiny with your juices, looking at you with a serious expression.

You wonder if Joel knows how to smile, he’d probably have a great one, but you’re used to him frowning, always a hardened look on his face, that’s normal. You’ve known him for years, Tess bringing you in for jobs here and there, and he’s always fascinated you—this much older, gruff man of few words, who only listened to Tess, and was a force to be reckoned with. Did you have a bit of a crush? Yes. But you have no chance, he’s too closed off, and you’re not even sure if he likes you in general. Though, after the way he ate your pussy, you think he might like you a little, and you’re happy to take whatever he’s willing to give.

“I asked how you’re feelin’,” he says.

A dreamy smile pulls up on your lips as you reply, “Fucking fantastic.”

“Good.” He nods. “I’m gonna fuck you, hard, until you’re droolin’ and can’t even remember his name.”

Your cunt clenches at his words, having to hold back a moan. You just know it’s going to be so fucking good, your body hot and thrumming with anticipation.

“May I kiss you?” you ask, sounding hopeful.

“No,” he answers, bluntly, your stomach dropping. “I’m just helpin’ you out, nothin’ more. You understand?”

“Yes,” you reply, not at all surprised. It’s nice of him to help you forget. Maybe there’s a little bit of softness hidden under all those rough edges.

“Good. Hands and knees.”

You scramble to do as you’re told, Joel grabbing your hips to help move you into position, hearing the clinking of his belt as he works open his pants, followed by him spitting on his fingers, gasping when he rubs the saliva over your entrance.

One hand grips your asscheek to spread you open, the other pushing his cock through your folds before he’s notching at your entrance. Your eyes go round, feeling the bulbous tip, knowing it’s going to be a stretch, your pussy throbbing needily, wanting to feel him inside you. He starts pushing in and your eyes roll back, mouth falling open at just how thick he is, stretching you to accommodate his girth, moaning in unison as he slides home in one smooth thrust.

“Oh my god,” you whine.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts.

You don’t have a chance to respond, his hips moving back, almost pulling all the way out and pushing back in hard enough the air leaves your lungs, setting up a brutal pace.

He hadn’t been lying, he’s fucking you hard and fast, his hands gripped tight on your hips, hearing your bodies colliding, his balls slapping against your clit, Joel grunting, soft sounds slipping between your teeth. Spreading your knees a little further apart has him going deeper, his thick cock rubbing against spots that has your head spinning, fingers digging into the concrete floor as he works you up, pleasure building higher, and higher with every slick slide of him moving in and out of you.

You’ve never been fucked liked this, and you love it, taking what he’s giving you, completely at his mercy, knowing he just wants to make you feel good, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he’s getting you to your end, fucking you too good.

His hand leaves your hip to rub your clit, and the jolt of pleasure has your muscles squeezing, moaning loudly.

“You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he grits out.

You are, panting hard, the obscene slap of flesh the soundtrack as you fall over the edge with a cry, body seizing up, your release dripping down his cock, euphoria exploding in your veins.

“Good girl,” Joel groans, fucking you through your high. “You’re tight little pussy is squeezin’ me.”

Your arms give out, resting your head on them, heart hammering in your chest. He’s kind enough to move his fingers off you, continuing to piston into you, grunting with exertion, his thrusts wetter. You’re pretty sure you’re drooling, your slick coating your inner thighs, legs trembling.

He leans over your back, pressing his front into you, slowing his movements, his mouth at your ear, holding himself up with hands beside you.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he rasps. “You’re gonna make me come.”

He kisses your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin from the softness.

“Come inside me,” you whimper, wanting to feel him.

He makes a pained sound.

“I can’t—gonna paint your pretty pussy in it.”

He pulls out suddenly, making you gasp, Joel manhandling you onto your back, his hips slotting into the cradle of your thighs and pushing back inside quickly, his slick cock sliding in easily.

His arms bracket your head, pulling your legs up his ribs as he starts moving again, picking up pace quickly, spearing into you over and over. His face is screwed up like he’s in pain, rough sounds coming from his mouth.

“You take me so fuckin’ well,” his words come out strained. “So tight, wet, fuck.”

Your hands work their way into his hair and he groans, leaning up to press your lips to his stubbled jaw.

“You’re so soft—so fuckin’ soft,” he says.

His eyes open, meeting yours.

“Can you give me another?”

You’re too sensitive from your previous orgasms, there’s no way you could come again.

“I don’t think so.”

“I think you can—just one more.”

He sits up on his knees, pushing your own up your chest, changing the angle to have him plunging into your pussy so deep and rubbing over something that causes white-hot pleasure to shock through you, making you gasp.

“I know,” he says, massaging that spot with each quick snap of his hips. “Wanna feel you come again. Soak my dick.”

You’re so wet, leaking all over his cock, hearing him working in and out of you, your pussy fluttering, another orgasm building in you, feeling the heat growing at the base of your spine, chanting his name.

It makes you throb, losing your mind at how good it feels, drool wetting your chin, eyes squeezed shut. You’re honestly upset that this is a one time thing, knowing no one will ever fuck you like this ever again.

Everything comes to a head, you’re right on the precipice.

“Oh, god,” you moan.

“Come for me,” he growls.

He says the words and it’s like he has a line straight to your cunt, because you do—the muscles in your belly tightening and tightening until you’re clamping down on him hard, coming with a shout, Joel growling, his hips stuttering, pleasure radiating through your body.

He pushes your legs apart, laying back over you, short strong strokes pushing in and out of you, extending your high.

You moan in surprise when his lips crash into yours, kissing you hard, happily opening when he licks into your mouth eagerly. He must be close, his breaths shakey, thrusts uneven, kissing you like his life depends on it.

Suddenly he’s pushing up and off of you, pulling out, taking himself in hand and jerking off frantically, panting hard, until a long drawn out groan pulls from his throat, feeling the hot spurts of his come painting your pussy.

There’s no coherent thoughts in your head, feeling lethargic, spent, not even sure if you can move with how your limbs are shaking.

“Fuck, that’s pretty,” he pants.

You peek an eye open, lifting your head to find him staring at your cunt. He pushes a finger through his mess, rubbing it over your little clit.

“Oh,” you gasp.

His gaze meets yours, a small smile pulling up on his lips, and your eyes go wide.

“It’s better than I imagined,” he says.

You’re feeling confused, not only from what he says but the soft look on his face. He’s handsome normally, but seeing him like this has your body feeling warm.

“What’s better than you imagined?”

“Your pussy.”

“You’ve imagined fucking me…?” you ask slowly, not quite believing what you’re hearing.

“Yeah? From the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

“I didn’t think you liked me.”

His eyebrows furrow.

“I like you plenty. I do jobs alone with you, don’t I?”

“Yeah, ‘cause Tess tells you to.”

“‘Cause I ask Tess to let me.”

It hits you then.

“You’re sweet on me.”

He sighs, looking away.

“I’m sweet on you,” he mumbles.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

He looks at you, his eyebrow raising.

“Well, you were datin’ that asshole for one—never liked him.” You snort. “And I’m old, really fuckin’ old. I ain’t got no chance with someone like you.”

“Well, you’re wrong about one of those things.”

“I thought you said he left you? You’re not still datin’ him are you?”

“What? No.” You wave away his questions. “That’s over. Done. I don’t want to ever see his face again.”

“Good.” He nods.

“You’re wrong about not having a chance with me. I’m sweet on you, too.” You smile.

He doesn’t look convinced.

“You’re lyin’. You didn’t even think I liked you.”

“Well, yeah. Just ‘cause I didn’t think you liked me didn’t stop me from crushing on your grumpy ass.”

He huffs out an amused breath.

“You really like me?”

“I do.” You nod. “You wanna make this more than a one time thing? I’d really like to do this naked and in a bed,” you ask, biting your lip.

He grimaces.

“I don’t have much to offer…” he says slowly. “I can fuck you, warm your bed, give you my body, but feelings and shit, I’m really fuckin’ bad at it.”

“That’s fine.” You shrug. “The orgasms make up for it,” you say, winking.

His thumb circles your sensitive clit, making your mouth fall open.

“Yeah? You like how I play your pussy?” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Very much.”

“Good. If you’re with me, it’s mine.”

You nod. “Only yours.”

He smiles. “Then we’ll keep doing this. Now, let me clean you up. We gotta get goin’.”

You’re wondering what he’s gonna use to wipe you down with, but then he’s moving back and bending down, his tongue sweeping through his come and making you moan.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @theorganasolo @thefictionalgemini @pinkninja200 @lol-im-done @koryianders @pointlessandfutile @flyingmushroomss @abbyhaslongshorts @savage-aespa @sofietargaryen @kpopslur @superflymaterial @virtuallia @moobaggg @shaunthesheesh @marsrox @fandomtash5092 @whore4dilfs @majdoline @mandowhatnow @hereforkyloren-blog @okjewels7567 @autobotgirl15-blog @silhxvette @lentil-s0up @myloveistoolittle @perksofbeingamultifandomm @squirtlebob @joliettes @aonungs-tsahik @javierpenasimp @thewayiknowyou @magic-magnoliaa @casssiopeia @vanemando15 @kiricomics @eddiemunscns @gracie7209 @fan-fiction-floozy @Butterscotch-mafia @myloveistoolittle @icygurl56 @deliriousfangirl61 @khaylin27 @notyourlovemonkey @a-wild-haggis @scorpiomindfuck @absurdthirst @littlemisspascal @iamskyereads @fandomandotherthings @seitmai

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #wheresarizona writes

[bwabys-scenarios]

Hi bwaby ~ I’m new to your page and I love your yandere posts ^^ I’m reading the ones you’ve written for Kurapika. I saw your requests were open.

How do you think hxh yanderes would respond to their captive s/o having a panic/anxiety attacks when their captor tries to get intimate? How would they go about that?

🖤 ur work 🖤🖤🖤 thnx

Yandere!HXH respond to you panicking during intimacy

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: dubcon, panic attack, bad aftercare, forced cuddling, slight manipulation/coercion with Chrollo(it backfires), vomit in Chrollo’s, Feitan is emotionally distant, Kurapika is unstable

A/N: just a little note that none of my yanderes will ever rape the reader. I just include dubious consent because being captive blurs the lines of consent. Can you really consent when you’re captive? I don’t know, so I include it just in case, even though in my eyes reader is always consenting during these acts. I’m not comfortable with writing out rape, so this situation is the farthest I go.

characters included: Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Feitan, Illumi

Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @pannacottababy

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Kurapika

First of all, Kurapika is VERY hesitant to initiate any intimacy after he takes you away. He wants you to get used to your captivity before he starts anything.

Kurapika is also the only yandere on this list that won’t be overly pushy in terms of physical contact most if the time, and honestly he’s okay if you never love him again… even if he really wants you to love him and give him lots of affection. He knows he did something unforgivable by taking you away from your life, and he’s willing to be hated by you if it means you’ll be safe.

Now, when you do eventually initiate some kind of intimacy he is over the moon. He would do anything for you, desperate to please you and make the experience as good as possible. Kurapika wants your love, your physical touch, and he wants it willingly.

So when he initiates, kissing along your neck with his hand gently rubbing your clothed cunt, he stops immediately when you start to panic. “My angel? Are you okay?”

He’s quick to pull away and give you space. His hands shake and he feels guilt and panic rise in his own chest. Did he just ruin all of the progress the two of you had?

But you calm down after a little, and lean against him. “I… I’m sorry, I just… I got really anxious.”

He’s quick to wrap his arms around you, tentatively smoothing out your hair. “Don’t apologize… shh, just relax. We don’t have to do anything.”

Kurapika spends the rest of the night just a bit unstable, terrified that he’ll do something to upset you. He just loves you so much and he doesn’t want to lose your love and affection when he just got it back. The next day he makes sure to pamper you more than usual, and he’s almost a bit clingy… as if he’s scared he’ll lose you.

Leorio

He’s pretty handsy, though most of his touches are just affectionate in nature. When you cuddle, he has his hand in your ass or thigh, kneading at the soft flesh.

Leorio likes to have you in his lap as often as possible, where he can move you as he pleases as cover you in kisses as he holds you as close as possible.

He’s eager to get back to sex after he takes you, though he won’t push… too much. Leorio is just super clingy and you’re already sitting pretty on his lap, the only thing separating you from his is that pretty skirt you’re wearing!

It was a normal day, with you sitting in his lap after he tugged you his way. But this time, instead of the usual soft squish he’d give your thigh or kisses to your cheek or the top of your head, Leorio started moving you back and forth against the bulge firming in his pants.

You instantly froze, feeling his warm breath on your neck. When you began to panic and cry, Leorio paused for a moment. “Princess? Something wrong?”

When you started to struggle, he gently set you down. The air was thick and heavy with tension and awkward energy. He scratched the back of his neck, his boner gone. “You alright?”

You shook your head. “I… I don’t want to, Leorio… I’m scared…”

He felt his heart break a little, but he was quick to reach out and gently ruffle your hair. “Don’t be scared… I won’t… do anything to you that you don’t want…”

But it felt a bit hypocritical, considering he did steal you from your old life against your will. Leorio had standards though, and one of those was not assaulting people.

That night, he was way less clingy than usual, giving you some space and time to process things… but you joined him in bed for snuggles later.

Chrollo

He kept telling you he wanted to make your first time with him special, that he’d buy you flowers and pretty lingerie to wear. He even suggested getting a nicer hotel than usual, which was shocking because the hotels you usually stayed in with him were beyond luxurious.

So when the special night came, he took you out to a fancy dinner, letting you order whatever you wanted. You had become very complacent, accepting the fact you’d never be able to escape him… not even in death.

So you are your food, and you bathed before putting on the set of lingerie he surely paid a high price for, and sat on the bed, waiting for him to get back from a meeting with some phantom troupe members that were in town.

The wait already had you anxious, but the way he kept going on and on about how perfect he made everything and how much effort he put into this night put a lot of pressure on you to do well.

And that was on purpose. He wanted you to know just how much he had done for you… how much he craved and adored you. With him, you would be endlessly pampered and loved… all you had to do was be a good girl and do as he said.

So by the time he got back, you were already anxiously fidgeting with your lacy black lingerie, biting your lip.

Now… he didn’t want to make you anxious, just a little nervous. He thought it would be cute to see you squeak like a timid little mouse as he took you… he didn’t want you to stiffly lie down and tear up when he unbuttoned his shirt.

And he hadn’t expected you to throw up from the stress of it all.

He felt a bit guilty, you were crying and muttering apologies as he called for room service, trying to clean it up yourself. Had he instilled that much fear in you that you shook in terror at the thought of upsetting you? That’s not what Chrollo wanted… despite his sly and manipulative nature, he wanted you to genuinely love him and see him as someone that protected and took care of you.

So once you calmed down a little, he pulled you in and snuggled you, kissing the top of your head. “I..: apologize. We’ll do this at your pace.”

You couldn’t really break away from his grip… and you didn’t want to anger him, so you let him hold you close and gently rock you.

Feitan

Feitan already is absolute garbage with intimacy, so it’s rare he’ll initiate anything. He’s both insecure and emotionally distant, but also longs for your affection and physical touch.

But he also HATES physical touch… so being his darling is a confusing experience where you’re constantly walking on eggshells.

The rare instances when he tries to be intimate with you, you almost leap with joy. He’s the only other human you have physical contact with, and you’ve almost gone crazy without touch and affection.

He’s very insecure and sensitive to rejection, so when he touches you, even if it’s just subpar, you praise him endlessly with soft whimpers and moans. He’s pretty skilled with his fingers considering he was a virgin before he met you.

So when he’s got his hands on your hips and ready to push his cock into your pretty pussy, instead of the usual happy whines you make… you instead whimper and shy away from him.

He’s tortured many people, so he can recognize the signs of a panic attack easily. You don’t know what came over you, but you just started to break down, crying and rocking yourself.

Feitan froze up, not knowing what to do. He’s not used to comforting others, and he already feels the harsh sting of rejection from your reaction. Was he that bad?

But… he’s able to push that away. He puts a blanket over your naked form and gently rubs your back while looking the other way.

“… don’t have to. Just say when don’t want it.”

And that’s all you get. He doesn’t kiss away your tears or clean you up… but it’s a big step forward. For Feitan, comforting another human being is hard, so the fact he’s trying for you proves that you mean something to him.

#requests open #x reader #anime x reader #tw dubcon #yandere!kurapika #yandere chrollo #yandere leorio #yandere kurapika #yandere hxh #reader insert #headcanon #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #smut requests #hunter x hunter x reader #anime x chubby reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader #fem!reader #female reader #fem reader #kurapika x reader #chrollo imagine #chrollo x reader #leorio x reader #kurapika smut #leorio smut #x reader smut #feitan x reader #yandere feitan

[raewritesfiction]

You Promised [Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader]

A/N: where did it come from? Where did it go? Where did this come from? Cuz I don’t know! Also sorry about the formatting I’m on the app!

Plot: Daryl makes a promise to you.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

Warnings: SMUUUUUT. Fingering, finger licking, swearing, p-in-v, masturbation, degradation.

[[ Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from tags; no questions asked ♥️ likes are amazing however I really appreciate Reblogs to help spread my writing further! Thank you 🌈😘]]

Tag List: @thegreatlarryfisherman @nikkitasevoli @iraniq @snewsome756 @vikki-rogue @amelia-in-w0nderland @pandaliciouz @crispyimagines17 @marie-is-blogging @bonniebird @nutinanutshell @louise-buchan @differentcatcat @madsadgenius @kcthescreamqueen @ramielll @azanoni @phoenix-is-closer-to-the-edge

—

“Baby we don’t have time!” Daryl sighs as you kiss up his neck.

“But… I’m horny..” you whine and pout. “I need you inside me so fucking bad!”

Your mistake had been not specifying it was his cock you wanted pounding into your pussy for a pre-supply-run quickie. You knew you’d made a mistake as soon as a smirk crossed his face and he pinned you down to the bed.

“Oh really?” His voice was low and he kissed you, a hand running down to unbutton your jeans and slip inside them. “You want me inside ya…?”

You nod and bite your lip, gasping quietly as his fingers so easily slipped inside you and curled just enough. “Well there ya go honey..”

“Daryl…!” You whined again and rocked your hips.

“Keep those hips movin’… you just said you wanted me inside ya.. nothin’ else.” He smirked again and you huffed angrily “fuck you Dixon!”

“No no… fuck yourself… I suggest if you wanna get off you’d better start movin’!”

You whine but rock and twist your hips to his fingers as Daryl watches you with obvious glee from his position above you, holding your wrists above your head. “That’s it… keep movin’… fuck my fingers and get ya self off…”

You pant and moan quietly, grinding your hips down onto his thick fingers inside you “please…. I… I need more..”

“Not right now you don’t… I know how much you love my fingers… work for it..” he leans down and kisses you before turning his head to watch your hips writhe frantically.

“Daryl… five minutes!” Rick called from outside.

“You heard the man… ya got five minutes…” Daryl licks his lips.

“Oh fffuck…” you pant and move your hips faster against his fingers and hand, your movements desperate for friction and your release. You tilt your hips and rock them, gasping Daryl’s name and keeping them moving “oh god… yes… yes…” you muffle your cries of pleasure in your arm as your walls tighten and pulse around Daryl’s fingers.

“Good girl…. Now if ya stay a good girl and keep ya self nice and wet while I’m gone I promise ta fuck that pretty cunt until your legs are shakin’ when I get back….”

You nod quickly “Yes! Yes yes! I will!”

“Good now open ya mouth…” he slips his hand out of your jeans and pushes his soaked fingers into your mouth “clean me up…”

You do as you’re told and swirl your tongue around his fingers, taking in the taste of yourself on his skin.

Daryl grabs his go bag and kisses you before heading out.

—

The day was long for you, usually doing things around the houses and base camp kept you busy enough for time to pass but all you could think about was Daryl’s promise. You kept thinking about him between your legs; his cock pounding into you and turning you into a blubbering mess. More than once you found yourself sneaking away to get yourself off to the thoughts you were having about him.

As the light faded and you went back to the house you were sharing with Daryl you heard the familiar rumble of his bike getting closer. How it didn’t draw the attention of walkers for miles around you didn’t know but he’d never had a problem.

You watch out the window and squeeze your thighs together when you see him ride through the gates followed by the truck piled high with supplies.

It had been a good day.

You waited as patiently as you could for Daryl to walk through the door and drop his bag to the floor. He headed up to the bedroom and found you waiting on the bed; his eyes lit up and he smiled.

“Good run?” You ask, posing seductively for him.

“Yeah very… got a lot.” He crawls and collapses down on to the bed.

“Nu uh… you made me a promise…”

He sighs “but I’m tiiiired…” he pouts and laughs at your face.

“Well that’s nice… I’m still horny as fuck because I’ve been thinking of you aaall day…”

“Oh ya have?” He raises an eyebrow

You nod in answer “All. Day.” You reiterate and wiggle your hips “I kept myself wet for you… got myself off a few times too… but I need your cock inside me and you made a promise..”

Daryl nods “I did… I did. And I always keep my promises.” He leans up and swiftly has you pinned down again, his lips hovering above yours “Always…” kissing you, slowly at first but progressively more hungry and desperate until you’re both gasping for air and pulling at clothes.

His hands move over you and massage your tits, his fingers playing with your nipples until they’re fully hard peaks and you’re moaning for more already. Daryl loves to tease and get you so worked up you don’t know which way is down, make you a whimpering begging mess because he loves to hear you beg for his cock.

You run your hands up his arms and into his scruffy hair, holding him to you as he sucks on your nipples in turn; his teeth scraping lightly and adding just enough pressure for the pain to be bliss.

“Daryl…” you gasped and moaned, making him look at you.

“Say it..” he kisses you hungrily and moans.

“I need your cock so fucking bad.”

There it was, he growled low in his chest and moved between your legs, his cock already hard just from teasing you. He swore one day he’d get off from doing just that.

Right now though, Daryl dipped his hips and pushed into you “god fuck ya still so wet!”

You moaned at his words and rocked your hips a little “deeper, please!”

Daryl obliges and rolls his hips, pushing into you fully until your pussy takes him whole. His hands grip your hips and he nips over your skin until you moan and beg him again “please… please Daryl!”

He grunts and starts snapping his hips into you rough and hard “this what ya want?” He groans and keeps a steady but quick pace, you grip the pillow under your head and moan loudly; people had become accustomed to hearing you both since you’d started living together.

“Yes!!” You call out and move your hips as best you could to his thrusts.

“Ya my good little slut?” He moans and pulls you onto his thrusts, watching your tits move with each snap of his hips.

“Yes! Yes… Daryl I’m your…good little slut!” You say between pants for air through his relentless pace.

“Ya gonna cum for me..?” He grunts roughly and moves his hands to squeeze your ass before quickly rubbing your clit.

You call out and cum almost immediately around his cock; tightening along his length and then pulsing around nothing as he pulls out of you and jerks himself.

You wanted him to cum inside you so badly but it was too dangerous; too many risks.

Daryl groans as your wrap your hand around his length and jerk him at the same pace he had been fucking you. He pants harshly and calls out, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he releases over your tits.

He moves himself to lay beside you and swallows thickly “holy fuck..”

You chuckle and grab a rag to clean yourself up before curling into his side with a relaxed sigh and falling asleep.

-fin-

#Daryl Dixon #daryl dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon Smut #Norman Reedus #Daryl Dixon Imagine #reader x Daryl Dixon

[airbendertendou]

bonten men reacting to seeing you — their assistant — in your glasses when they’re so used to your contacts.

[ contacts version ]

no pronouns used / gender neutral. lowercase intended. cw ; mikeys poor eating, sanzu + his drug issues, cussing, ran calls reader ‘dolly’, mentions of vertigo

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

MIKEY ♡

mikey knew you wore contacts. he made sure you always got your yearly eye exam and had the doctor check every possible thing that could be wrong. he wanted you healthy — completely healthy.

what mikey didn’t expect was a package to b on his desk the next morning, your name on the label. he just stared at it for a while, curiosity piquing until it fizzled out as he decided to not snoop through your things.

you stopped by during lunch — you usually did, bringing him actual food instead of snacks — and mikey decided to slide the box your way. “oh, my glasses are here.”

mouth full of food, mikey stopped mid-chew to stare at you blankly. “…glasses?”

“yeah, i decided to order a pair for lazy days,” you nodded. swallowing the food you were chewing, you took a sip of water before shrugging. “they’re better when looking at the computer, too. and i do that all day, so.”

mikey nodded and finished half of his food — only because you told him you were proud of him when he did — and watched you skip to his personal bathroom. he could hear you opening the medicine cabinet doors and cursing to yourself as something slipped from your hands before you joined him once again. but something was different this time — you had frames that were sliding down your nose and your eyes were somehow clearer to see.

“so?” you gave mikey a little twirl as if you’d changed drastically. “do they look okay?”

he stared. mikey’s dark gaze was heavy on you as he just gazed at your glasses before you noticed a small tilt of his lips. “cute.”

it wasn’t much, but it was enough to make a smile pull on your own lips. cute — mikey thought you were cute. ——

SANZU ♡

your head was pounding. you’d fought through it most of the morning and it’d faded a little. come lunch time, though, it came back full force and you were wincing every other minute.

“sanzu probably has some painkillers in his office.” it’s takeomi who speaks up. he’s leaning against the wall across from your desk, frowning as you rub your head. “don’t let him give you anything else, though.”

nodding you stand and wobble your way to where the pink haired boy is. he’s on the couch in his office, drool falling down his chin as he snores. you can’t help but roll your eyes fondly — sanzu was a mess but he was your mess and you adored him helplessly.

“haru,” you shake him gently. letting out a loud snore, he starts to stir. you shake his shoulder again, wincing at the pulsing in your head. “haru, get up.”

with an abrupt snort, sanzu jolts awake and stares at you. blinking slowly, you know he’s still feeling the effects of whatever he’d taken before he passed out. hazy eyes register your presence before a snarl falls on his lips. “who the fuck are you?”

“what.” you stand in disbelief as sanzu finally sits up straight. he’s glaring at you, unfamiliar with who you are. unbelievable man. you wince as your head pounds again. “haru, are you being serious right now?”

he stiffens even more at the sound of his first name. “i asked who the fuck you were.”

“oh my—“ you cut yourself off with a sigh. taking your newly purchased glasses, you slide them up so that your face is bare. “it’s me, you damn jerk. do you have any pain meds? my head is killing me.”

“woah,” haru let’s out a sigh. he’s gazing at you dreamily now that he’s certain of who you are. letting his head fall into the palm of his hand, sanzu tilts his head and grins. “so pretty with your glasses, baby. could barely recognize you.”

“mhm, m’sure it was the glasses and not whatever you took.” you let your glasses fall back into place as you roll your eyes at him. “tylenol? please?”

haru slaps his thighs before standing, slouching over to press a firm kiss to your head before he saunters around his office. as he searches, you can hear him sing “gotta get baby something for a headache”, repeatedly.

handing you the two white pills, you check the imprint code to make sure he handed you the right thing. not that sanzu would accidentally or purposely drug you of all people — he was still reeling from his high, though, and you didn’t trust that his brain was functioning right.

letting out a sigh of relief, you settled your forehead onto his collarbone. haru let his hand fall onto the back of your head, rubbing it occasionally. he kissed the top of your head before settling his nose there. “rest here while it kicks in, hm?”

you could never deny him, no matter how out of his mind he was. ——

RINDOU ♡ 

rindou always takes you to your doctors appointments. he usually even made his own appointments on the same day so that it as already done. this time, though, something was different.

“what the hell are you wearing?” ran speaks through a snort. rindou sighs at his brothers voice, closing his eyes as he prepares himself for the worst. “haven’t seen you in glasses since we were young, rin rin. you look so cute.”

rindou glares at his brother’s teasing grin, pulling the glasses off of his face and slamming them onto his desk. “shut the fuck up, ran. not cute.”

“but you are! my cute baby brother.”

“rin?” your voice cuts over ran’s. both men look up to see you frowning, your new glasses matching the ones rindou just took off. you looked at the folded frames on his desk, frown deepening. “your glasses?”

“oh, how precious! you’re both matching,” ran laughs. you take it upon yourself to smack the back of his head — gently, but firmly enough so he’d get the message. “okay, okay! i’m done now.”

ran leaves rin’s office soon after and he’s left with your frown pin-pointed to him. you glance from rin to his glasses, and back again when he doesn’t say or do anything. “fine, guess i’ll just put my contacts back in, then.”

his eyes widen at that, watching as you turn and put your nose in the air. frantically, rindou chases you and grasps your wrist tenderly, causing you to turn and face him. your pout causes rindou to soften, letting out a sigh as he reaches behind him to grab his glasses. “sorry, angel. jus’ don’t like when he teases me.”

“i know,” you swing your arm, causing rin’s to swing with it. he smiles at your gesture, sliding his glasses up his nose. “but you promised you’d wear your glasses today. promised we’d match.”

rin sighs and sets his forehead against yours, glasses bumping together and making you both giggle. “a promise is a promise, hm?” ——

RAN ♡

you’re leaning into the wall when he sees you. raising an eyebrow, ran watches you clutch the wall as you walk, knees knocking together as you stumble. he’s following behind you closely, smirk on his face as he holds in his laughter. 

“doll? everything okay?” you jump at his voice, pressing your back to the wall. ran lets out a little snicker at your startled expression, gaze softening at the new sight in front of him. tapping the rim of your glasses, ran smiles. “these are new.”

you let out a sigh, body relaxing against the wall. adjusting the frames on your face, you purse your lips at him. “yeah. just gott’em yesterday.”

ran watches you hold onto the wall once more as you walk towards the break room. he finally sees the empty mug you’re carrying — of course you’re off to find a coffee re-fill. you sway to the left a little and ran catches you immediately, arm wrapping around you.

“woah there.” ran frowns at your unstable footing, watching as you try to grip the wall again and fail. “s’goin on?”

putting your back onto the wall again, you face the ground. “jus’ gotta get used to my glasses. makin’ me feel like i’m wearing drunk goggles.”

ran raises an eyebrow at that, smirk pulling on his face once more. griping your waist again, he tugs you away from the wall and helps you stabilize your legs. at his look, you continue speaking. “the floor’s jumpin’ out at me. feels like vertigo and it’s making me nauseous.”

“can’t have my dolly feeling unwell, can we?” ran grabs your empty mug, holding it in his free hand as he motions you to guide your hand against the wall. using ran as a crutch, you finally make it to the break room and ran begins to make your coffee as you sit in a seat. his back is turned to you as he adds in sugar, but he speaks anyways. “as cute as you look, i’d rather you not feel this bad when wearing your glasses.”

you cup the mug as ran sets it in front of you, melting at the warmth it omits. “i’ll get used to it eventually.”

“guess i’ll have to take care of you ‘til then. hm, doll.” ran grins at you, knocking his foot against yours under the table. ——

KOKONOI ♡

“sorry, again, to bother you.” kokonoi is in his car as he talks on the phone. you’re on the other line, still in your pajamas because it was supposed to be your day off. bonten heaquaters would collapse without you, you’re afraid. koko speeds up as he nears the turn for your street, finger hovering above the red end call button that’s on his screen. “see you in a second.”

when you answer the door, kokonoi forgets what he was going to say. his breath catches and his tongue dries out as he just stares. you’re talking but he has no idea what you’re saying — he can’t hear anything over the pounding of his own heartbeat. 

tilting your head, the glasses you’re wearing shine in the light and keep his attention even longer. “koko? you can come in, you know.”

“you wear glasses,” he blurts it out. clearing his throat, kokonoi turns his face to the ground as embarrassment colors his cheeks. “i mean— i didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“well, they’re a little impractical in the field.” your attempt of a joke falls flat as kokonoi lifts his head to stare at you again. you adjust the sleeping shirt thats slipping off your shoulder, puffing your cheeks as you widen the door. “inside, koko — you can come in.”

“right,” it’s embarrassingly breathy, how voice sounds. shuffling into your apartment, koko can hear you begin to ramble again as you lead him to the kitchen. there are files spread across your table, a mug right in front of the chair that’s halfway pulled out. kokonoi sits across from you as you talk on.

“—told him that wasn’t what the deal was, but rindou doesn’t listen to anyone but ran. sometimes i don’t even think he listens to mikey and he’s just here because ran is,” you sigh. pushing your glasses up your nose, you slide over the file kokonoi asked for. “this one, right?”

he grabs the folder, reading through the papers as you take a sip from your mug. the steam fogs your glasses and kokonoi can only think of how endearing it looks on you — how attractive he found your specs. “how long have you worn them, your glasses?”

you hum in thought, blowing slightly on your drink. “since i was a kid, honestly. stopped for a little and decided they’d be good to have when my contacts start drying out or hurting my eyes.”

kokonoi nods and glances at the file again before his focus comes back on you. “they look good on you.”

“oh, thanks.” you take a sip of your drink again and notice his stare. raising an eyebrow at him, you tilt your head. “starin’, koko. the office’ll fall down without you there.”

“they’ll be alright a little longer.” kokonoi is sitting beside you and he takes advantage of that, grabbing your chair and dragging you closer. he places a kiss on your neck before moving his head so that he can see your face more clearly. “enjoying the view right now.”

you shove him gently, “cheesy!” there’s a grin on your face, though, and it matches the one koko holds just for you.

—— couldnt think of what to write for the others so sorry abt that ): writing tr characters as hopelessly in love n sappy is a full time job n i take it v seriously. thank you for reading, ♡ airbendertendou © 2022 do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform.

#sano mikey x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #kokonoi hajime x reader #haitani ran x reader #haitani rindou x reader #sano manjiro imagines #sanzu haruchiyo imagines #kokonoi hajime imagines #haitani ran imagines #haitani rindou imagines #sano mikey headcanons #sanzu haruchiyo headcanons #haitani ran headcanons #haitani rindou headcanons #bonten x reader #bonten imagines #bonten headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers headcanons

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A message.

I’d like to start by saying once more (due to it being the cause of so many hateful messages) that I support Palestine.

I donate to charities that fund several of the organisations that help and I use my business in the best way I can to give my services for free to fundraisers that also raise money for these causes. Shy of showing you my personal bank statements and private emails between myself and my clients, I don’t have any ways of showing this on tumblr.

I have several social media platforms, I have a business that I run, I have friends and family I talk to, I have an entire life off of this website. I choose to use tumblr to post my writing and for the most part, it’s become a really important space for me. Writing is one of the few things I truly do for myself. I enjoy it immensely and it can really bring me a lot of peace.

I choose not to blog anything other my writing, other people’s writing and general fandom related things on my blog because I like to keep it as that small space for myself and one of the things I love most. I understand wholly that that is a privilege in itself and I will not shy away from that fact.

However, I will not condone being hunted for the choices I make. For the vast majority of you, I am a stranger online and no one, absolutely no one, knows what I do off of this website. I won’t allow anyone to judge me on what they don’t see and don’t understand.

The size of my following was not a choice I made, it was not something I deliberately aimed for and it was not something I tried hard to make sure I achieved. It wasn’t the goal of this blog. I don’t deem myself capable of “influencing” anyone in anyway. I’m a fanfiction writer. I’m not a politician, I don’t claim to be the most educated person on political and worldwide matters. I simply would like to believe that everyone tries to help in anyway they can. I know not everyone has the financial means to donate and instead they choose to raise awareness in other ways - that’s absolutely okay.

But I - and others - do not have to follow the rule book someone else deemed law. You see, I gave my views and reasons and it wasn’t good enough. And now, if I chose to reblog certain things, I’m pretty sure I’d be dragged for being performative, or “back tracking.” I fear that with some people, who like to hide behind an anonymous button, I cannot win. Despite an argument revolving around real life issues, I think I can safely say it came across as a very personal attack.

As other people have mentioned before, I also don’t enjoy the idea of writing smut and happy ever after’s about our favourite fictional men and then reblogging the death of others in real life straight after. I know that’s the world right now. I’m aware. I read articles, I watch the news, I follow accounts on Twitter, on Instagram and I try and keep myself as up to date and as educated as possible. I just don’t show that on this one platform.

As many of you know, I do run my own business. I’m also five months pregnant. I’m definitely experiencing more stress than I usually do. I’m very happy and enjoying my pregnancy immensely but I struggled with sickness and tiredness for the majority of it so far. Whats to come in the next four months and beyond fills me with excitement and anxiety and nerves. Coming onto tumblr and writing about fiction is a little reprieve from that - again, a privilege I am so aware of.

But I won’t be tolerating any more hateful messages, I won’t be arguing with anyone. I’m not lowering myself to it. You can talk about me passively aggressively, you can choose to hate me, that’s fine. I’m happy blocking people and moving on. Anons will be off indefinitely, it’s been proven that too many people are willing to hide behind them. After the messages regarding myself and my unborn child, quite frankly, there’s not a lot of trust left when it comes to knowing how far people will sink.

I’ve said all I’d like to say on the matter, I’ve told people where I stand, my views on the genocide that is occurring, what I’m able to do about it in my personal life and why I choose to keep this particular space the way I do.

I hope everyone can try to understand and respect that. If you don’t, that’s fine, that’s your prerogative. I don’t go out of my way to challenge, or police, or demand things from people I do not know. I hope that no one thinks that they have the right to do that to myself and others. I’m under no obligation to follow someone else’s rules.

I don’t know what the future holds for this blog, pregnancy and real life is very much taking priority over writing at the moment, but I do like to try when I can. I can’t lie either, the messages and their content that I received really left me feeling dejected and frustrated, this fandom really has turned into something rather poisonous. I’d like to be able to rise above it and in the mean time, even if I’m not always present, I’d like people to be able to access the stories I worked really hard on.

Thank you for reading,

Emmy 🧡

[romana-after-dark]

Dead Dove December

Hello everyone! This December I’m hosting an event for the Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal fandom that I’m calling, Dead Dove December! From 12/01/2023 - 12/31/2023 I’m encouraging others to create something that expresses their deepest and (most importantly) darkest desires. I will be reblogging all pieces of art or fanfiction, and will post a masterlist in January. 

Details below the cut…

What is Dead Dove Do Not Eat?

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, or DDDNE has its origins in one of my comfort shows!

The phrase comes from a meme referencing the 2003 Arrested Development episode "Top Banana", in which Michael Bluth opens a paper bag labeled "DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT" and, upon discovering that there is a dead dove inside the bag, says, deadpan, "I don't know what I expected." - fanlore.org

In short, what you see in the tags is what you should expect to see in the fic. This can apply for any type of fic, including the fluffy ones, but it’s usually associated with darker themes. That being said, this is your warning that this is a DARK THEMED EVENT. If you aren’t comfortable with darker topics like non-con, excessive violence, blood/gore, death, toxic relationships, 18+ age gaps, and more, then I encourage you not to participate in this event.

How to Participate

For the month of December, post your Dead Dove fanfiction or fan art on your blog. Use the tag #deaddovedecemeber2023 and tag me. You can also send a link via ask or DM if you like! I will not be posting anything for you, just reblogging and linking. At the end of December I will post a masterlist with links to everyone’s works! Side Note - Since Tumblr doesn’t really allow for NSFW art, you can post your work on Twitter or any other site that allows it and just send me that link so I can add it to the masterlist.

Rules

You MUST be 18+ to participate. I will be checking your blog/social media to be sure. Please make sure your age is easy to find. If I find that you’re a minor or if your age isn’t readily present I will be blocking you and you will be unable to participate. You can just add that you are over 18 if you don’t want your age out on the internet. As the creator and promotor of this event, I need to know I’m not interacting with minors given the nature of this event.

The work MUST be dark in some way. There’s no limit to how dark your work needs to be or can be, but it needs to contain some sort of dark theme in order to qualify. If non con isn’t your thing, dub con via stockholm syndrome or brainwash can let you write a more comfortable scene while still remaining dark. Fics and art do not necessarily need to be NSFW.

Do NOT post anything before 12/01/2023. I will not count submissions prior to that date or after 12/31/2023. Masterlsit will be posted in January.

Your work MUST contain the proper tags. I won’t police how detailed your tags should be, but, for instance, if your work contains non-con, and you didn’t tag non-con then your work will not qualify. Please be inclusive in your writing where you can.

You may submit no more than two (2) pieces. This can include a fanfic and fanart, two fanfics or two fanarts. This is to allow someone to write a piece and make a work of art to accompany it.

I’m not going to yuck someone’s yum, but there are some things I’m just personally not comfortable with and since I’ll be reading/viewing all of these, I have a few things not allowed in the event. The list of what’s NOT allowed is shorter than the list of what IS allowed so here’s a list of the things that will NOT be tolerated in this event:

No underage/aged up minor content - To clarify, this includes things popular ships like - TLOU 1 or Show Ellie x Joel or Miguel O’Hara X Gwen Stacy. No "ageing up" minors for the purpose of a fic.

No Bestiality - To clarify, monsterfucking does NOT count as bestiality (at least to me). For example, werewolves, venom, Khonshu, e.t.c. are all allowed.

No incest - To clarify, step-sibling/step-parent relationships are permitted as long as everyone is 18+. Selfcest relationships are also allowed (like Moon Knight or Miguel with his alternate self, e.t.c.).

If you’re unsure if something is allowed or not, you can send me a DM or an ask for clarification prior to posting.

You can use any prompts you want or none, you aren’t tied to any one idea but here are some to get the ideas flowing if you need them!

Also, you can absolutely use a fic to inspire your art, or art to inspire a fic! Your inspiration piece, whether yours or someone else’s does not have to be from December, but you MUST obtain permission from the original creator before I promote your work. Most creators are happy when their work inspires others, and all my fics are open to being used for inspiration, but please reach out to the creator first.

I’m very excited! I’ve never done anything like this before so things may be updated as I go so bear with me! Looking forward to seeing what you all come up with!

Dividers and header made by the amazing @melodygatesauthor

Please consider reblogging to spread the word!

#dead dove do not eat #deaddovedecember2023 #dddne #dark #dark fanfiction #oscar isaac #pedro pascal #joel miller #moon knight #tlou #dark!joel #jake lockley #triple frontier #dark content #dark!fic #non con #dub con #yandere #dark jake lockley #dark marc specter #dark steven grant #dark santiago garcia #dark francisco morales #dark pero tovar #dark smut #dark duke leto #cw rape #tw noncon

[fariesoiree]

STRAWBERRY MERINGUE

caution! mdni 6k wrdz, hobie smokes weed, you’re drunk n contact high, you get it blown in your face, exhibitionism, kinda voyeurism, use of the word nigga, use of the word pussy and cunt, public sex, fingering f. receiving, oral m. receiving, sharing of cum, degradation barely ( use of the word bitch and slut once), choking but not really, brat taming if you squint, unprotected sex, pull out method, lmk if i missed anything! pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

hobie takes a long drawl of the blunt between his lips. his eyes are half lidded and his head is tilted back. in the dim lighting, you can barely tell his scleras are red but they are, pupils low and moving slow across the scenery.

he’s careful, knowing that you hate the smell. he doesn’t get it, though. you grumble every time he sparks up, claiming the smell reminds you of body odor, until you’re intoxicated yourself.

tonight, you’re indulging a bit, drunk off mixed liquors so you don’t mind. it’s the last thing you’re thinking about when he sits up and slots his mouth over yours. he blows the smoke into you, ending with a sloppy kiss.

you don’t smoke, or at least that’s what you claim. in a way, you don’t, never actually putting the paper to your lips. you just steal whatever hobie gives you because in your pretty, little head, it’s somehow better.

your body feels heavy. you’re so crossed, not thinking about how you’re tonguing hobie down in front of his friends. they’re not paying you much attention, either. this isn’t surprising, not with the explicit details hobie sometimes shares. it happens every party anyway. as long as you are both intoxicated, you’re unable to keep your hands off each other.

you mewl when he adjusts you in his lap, one hand on your back to draw you forward. your eyes flutter and your hands run over the navy blue mesh of his top. his tongue piercing is warm and bumping against the roof of your mouth.

you’re straddling his lap, standing out in the group of punks with your sparkly pink tank top and denim miniskirt. underneath you, hobie is your opposite in low waisted jeans, distressed and dark. his chains are layered and occasionally clink against each other when he moves.

you’re so in love with him and his little v line, peeking through the sliver of skin visible. you’re too greedy, grinding against his studded belt. the rhinestones don’t bump and graze your sensitive parts enough.

“mm mm,” he hums against your lips. “not here.” he kisses your cheek and creates just a bit of space between you in an attempt to keep you settled. his heart swells at the adorable disappointment in your eyes but he knows better than to comment on it. you like to villainize whatever you can to get your way and he doesn’t want to deal with you the way he usually does right here with everyone’s somewhat watchful eyes.

you sulk when he grins. he only tunes you out and takes another huff of the rolled blunt. “you jealous?” he chuckles at the expression riri, one of his bandmates, sports.

her face is contorted in disgust, being the unfortunate one to catch you two at the wrong time. “no, you’re just gross. i’ve never seen a couple so all over each other than you.”

hobie merely raises his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug. “i told you she was coming. you knew what that meant.” he exhales the smoke in your face again, mockingly sneering at his friend when you welcome it.

you barely hear their conversation between the insatiable throbbing in your core and the need to get inside hobie’s skin. you cling on to him and rest your head in the crook of his neck. he rubs your side while you mindlessly litter dark purple hickies along his collar. his hands come up to graze your arm.

it’s his party, or rather, their party. in celebration, his band decided to have a small get together to celebrate the release of their mixtape. it was supposed to be small. now it’s turned into a house party with the amount of plus ones in attendance.

the music causes a buzz in your bloodstream. you’re delirious and horny out of your mind. somewhere down the line, you made the conscious decision to down a hefty amount of casamigos and now you’re dealing with the consequences. “ ‘bie,” you snivel. you take his hand and guide it in between your bodies until his fingers are over the growing and slightly damp spot over your panties. you pant when he applies pressure, swiping aimlessly back and forth.

the dull ache in your stomach is heightened because of his toying. your drunken mind has you trying to push down on him, only for him to remove his hand with a click of his tongue. “i told you not here. gonna have to wait, pretty girl.”

hobie can’t tell if he’s seeing things when your lips tremble. he squints, both trying to examine the details through the haze and deter you from throwing a tantrum. you’re already halfway there, assuming he doesn’t care about what you want. you’re just about to give him a piece of your mind when you’re interrupted, timed perfectly.

“hey hobes?”

both your heads turn, spotting another band member stood to the side.

karl looks untroubled as he crashes somewhere on the couch. he hums as he gets comfortable, eyes scanning the crowd with a mischievous smile. “won’t believe what i gotta tell you.

“yeah?” hobie dangles one long arm off the back of the couch. he rests his head on his shoulder. the action both distracts and reminds you of your mission to decorate him in love bites.

you’re unaware of how karl turns, nodding his head in your direction. “some fucker wants to get to know your girl. saw us walking around and thought we were cool, thinks I can make something happen.”

you remain unaware still. the words don’t click in your head, no matter that hobie is speaking right here with you in his lap.

“oh?” he laughs a bit at the thought. it doesn’t bother him and happens more frequently than one would think. he’s gotten used to their gross antics but he doesn’t feel jealous. no, he’s pleased. pleased that someone else can recognize that he’s got the best girl. “hear that, princess? got a second boyfriend.” his eyes are downcast and on you.

you’re too dazed and busy to listen, covering every part of his skin until there is no space left. “don’t care,” you murmur. you’re not sure what you’re uncaring towards but it doesn’t matter. not when there are more important tasks to deal with.

hobie pulls you up by the neckline. he’s not shocked when you’re already glaring at him, convinced that, at this point, he’s torturing you. “you should. it’s rude to not speak to someone, you know.”

you feel so incredibly petulant beyond words. you blow a short breath through your nose. it takes you a second to find it, find your tone and patience. unfortunately, you can’t. “huh?” you snap.

fortunately, hobie doesn’t care. “you got a valentine or whatever the fuck. should go to talk to him.”

you know it’s not really a request.

it’s a game you both play, showing off your relationship to anyone who’ll see. as much as you hate being ripped away from him at times like this, you enjoy the game, too. it usually ends all hot and heavy, just how you like it.

before you’re standing he holds up a finger to karl, motioning the man to wait. hobie brings the blunt to his lip and immediately shotguns it into yours. he’s nasty about it, a hand groping your ass and rolling your hips down into his.

“jesus christ,” karl mutters. his face is scrunched up and even if the dark lighting, you can tell his cheeks are firetruck red.

yeah, showing off your relationship to anyone who’ll see.

you grin, patting karl’s shoulder as you stand. admittedly, you stumble a bit. your balance is all fucked up and you probably aren’t making the best decisions. “this will be you one day, bud.”

karl takes your hand in his. he can already tell you won’t be able to make it across the room without aid. you probably haven’t stood up since you sat down, too busy damn near dry humping hobie. “gee, i can only hope.”

hobie sighs, a deep rumble spreads in his chest. “not a scratch, karl.” he takes his eyes over you from head to toe, as slow as he can afford. they starting at your heels, up to the buns on either side of your head.

“we’re gonna go pimp her out, not to war.” the other rolls his eyes, trading his hand in yours to your elbow, both for more support and because he doesn’t know where you put it.

you both begin your trek around the quite spacious living room. you don’t know where you’re going and occasionally, you’re tripping over yourself. it’s not all that bad. most of the fault is because you decided to wear heels and even though they were thick and blocky, it didn’t do much in your current state.

your ankle wobbles and karl has to yank you upright. he doesn’t know how you haven’t injured yourself by now. maybe you are going to war, but with yourself. “what the hell? how much did you drink?”

you giggle with a shake of your head. “didn’t count. it’s fine! ‘m not blacked, just tipsy, maybe. oh and a little high.” you’re really not that far under the influence, you think. most of the influence is pure lust and when it’s subtracted from the occasion, you’re all bubbly.

karl looks over your shoulder. his attention is behind you and you see him wave someone over. “yeah well, try not to bust your ass. i’m calling that guy over now. his name is fuckin’ max or something like that.”

you completely forgot that’s what you came over for. it’s only been a few steps but between your bumbling and laughter, it slipped your mind. “oh. are you gonna stick around?”

“hell no,” karl sucks in his breath. his face twists and he points in pinky at hobie. “i don’t wanna be here when he gets up. you two are bad enough when you’re calm.”

sure enough, he’s still watching with a clear view from the couch in the corner. he lifts his fingers and wiggles them in a wave. you lick your lips at the sight of his hands. your pussy throbs at the thought of them pushing deep inside you.

“yeah, i’m out.” karl waves his hand in front of your face to get your attention. “i’ll be around if you need me. just call, i’ll hear you.” he doesn’t want to experience what you freaks are about to get into but he also doesn’t want to leave you here, faded with a man you don’t know.

he waits until the trade off happens and you’re left semi alone. you’re not exactly shy but nothing comes to mind. you’re uninterested, having already committing yourself to another. “max?”

“mark,” he says. he doesn’t look like anything interesting. sagging his jeans and wearing an ill fitting shirt. definitely not your type. if you lost him in a crowd, he’d disappear. his first mistake would be losing you in the first place.

however, if you want to be tossed onto the nearest surface, you have to push through it. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry!” you flash a smile. you rock back on your feet, only to trip over yourself. without karl holding you up, you find yourself grasping for balance. an honest giggle leaves your lips at your clumsiness but it’s mistaken for delight.

mark’s hands grab at your waist and your first thought is how they don’t compare. they’re much smaller and he definitely isn’t handling you with care. you have to remind yourself not to frown when you’re jostled back onto your feet. “havin’ a lot of fun tonight? your nigga didn’t stop you?”

you can’t stop looking at his hand still holding on to you. if you weren’t turned off by his appearance, you are now with his lack of awareness. you make an excuse to bump his hand off when you “adjust” the top of your shirt. “who, karl? karl and i are not . . . definitely not.”

in mark’s head, this means you don’t have one. even if you did, there’s much doubt he’d care. “so what? you don’t have one then. you want one?”

“um . . .” you flick your eyes over to hobie. you know he’s still watching and knows it’s a universal sign that you can’t take anymore of this. “i do have one. just not him so . . .” you gather your hands together and curl them into each other.

“you can’t have friends? we don’t gotta do nothin’, just chill.” he speaks with his hands. they’re waving all in the air and smacking against each other. typically it wouldn’t annoy you but you really just don’t like this guy. “i mean, you don’t gotta tell him. he ain’t gonna go shit, anyway.”

you scoff to yourself. before you have a chance to defend your lanky little stick bug, a familiar presence subtly appears at your side.

you turn to him before he’s even looking at you.

his hand is on your cheek, gingerly. hobie isn’t glaring, nor is he smug but there’s something about him. as if he knows something mark doesn’t. and he does. he knows mark doesn’t stand a chance, knows he’s going to be upset someone like hobie has you wrapped around his finger. he knows he’s not going like the way he dresses and talks. he’s going to go off to his friends and call hobie a bitch and whatever other caveman words he can think of.

that’s exactly why he doesn’t stand a chance.

“made a new friend?” hobie finally looks at you. his gaze softens immediately and he moves forward to kiss your lips.

“something like that.” you sigh sweetly. even with your shoes, you don’t compare to his height. you have to pull yourself up. your aim is to deepen the kiss, biting his bottom lip when he doesn’t oblige.

hobie only pats your butt and you pout. “thanks for comin’, man. we really appreciate it.” he doesn’t offer any sign of respect. it won’t be returned. call him mean, say he’s stereotyping, but he has enough experience to know when someone will appreciate his presence and when someone won’t.

mark grimaces. he gives hobie a once over, obviously not happy with what he’s seeing. “this is your thing? shit. if i knew that, i wouldn’t have came.”

you feel something vile bubbling up in your throat. your stomach churns at his words. how dare he? he looks like every other person in the room, in this place that hobie pays for, and insults him like he’s worth something.

“well, it’s a good thing i told you then, huh? leave if you want to. have a good night.” hobie speaks before you do. he wraps his arm around your shoulder and slots his hand over your mouth. knowing your temper, he doesn’t need you making anything worse.

you both watch him stalk off in two different moods. hobie is just as calm as ever. he lets his aggression roll of his back like nothing. meanwhile, you’re grumbling about what a terrible person he is, how you don’t like him and anything you stands for.

“dumb bitch. that’s why you’re weird and bitchless.” you’re more upset he ruined the way things are supposed to go. hobie is supposed to take you in his arms and fluster both you and the third person. instead, you end up grumpy.

hobie chuckles. he massages your shoulder, adoringly watching you go on and on about how he sucks. “yeah? what’d he say to you?”

the thought alone has you groaning and going on another spiel. “he asked if you let me ‘have friends’ and ‘i don’t have to tell you’.” you crinkle your nose. as if you’d ever cheat and lie about it, or lie about anything at all. there’s no secrets in between you two and if there is any ever hesitation, it comes out eventually when the other person is ready. you can’t imagine keeping anything from him with ill intent. “you should have clocked him in the jaw,” you pivot and face him. you’re extra careful not to do it too fast and wrap your arms around his thin waist.

“while you’re standing right here? not gonna do that.” he hooks his hands under your arms and lifts you onto his waist. “you get hurt and i’ll blow this whole place up.”

with your little skirt, half your ass is out. you squeal, a hand going down to maintain as much modesty as you can. hobie is no help. he doesn’t care. his freak ass wants someone to see. getting rid of one person doesn’t mean everyone else’s eyes are no longer wandering.

he takes you back over to your original resting spot without struggle despite your wiggling and complaining that he isn’t doing anything to help you. he plops back down back, smirking when you’re bouncing from the impact. your hands fly to his shoulders to steady yourself.

“you’re done smoking?” you look around the group and don’t see a blunt in sight. it’s surprising from them, considering they always pass around multiple in rotation every night. you were only gone for a few minutes.

“i am. they’re not.” hobie pulls the strap of your top up. it’s fallen and despite the view of your tits he got, he didn’t particularly want everyone else to see them. not yet, at least.

he runs his hands along the tops of your thighs, straddling him. his thumb dips dangerously on the inner and dig into your bikini line when they run high.

you draw a breath, zeroing in on the action. “oh. why?” you can’t hear him when the need comes crashing back, just as strongly as it did before. you were under the impression this wouldn’t be happening and had no idea he planned on doing it here.

hobie likes you like this. he can never really describe it but you melt so easily. one touch, one graze of his fingertips and you’re all soft. it’s nice you can keep up with his libido but it’s even better when he can keep up with yours. “ ‘cause i don’t want to. why do you think?”

you don’t know what to think right now. not when his thumb grazes over your clit so slowly. it’s always you who’s so worked up while he’s so lax.

you rut against him, lip tucked under your teeth. you don’t know where to put your hands without making it obvious. he’s occupying the space in your lap and you wouldn’t dare clench the front of his shirt.

you settle for behind you, resting on your calves. in hindsight, it has the opposite effect but you’re all dizzy. you pant when he rolls the bud under his pads of his finger. you’re simultaneously regretting and rejoicing in the fact that you decided to wear a thong for the outfit. it’s thin and does nothing to dull the feeling.

a hand reaches into your peripheral. you can see the rolled smoke in between it’s fingers but you can’t be bothered to look over and see who it belongs to.

“thanks,” hobie acknowledges it. he leans into it to take his puff and tilts his head back. the remnants are released in the air rather than your face. the smell mixes with his cologne, musky and woodsy. you wouldn’t like it any other time but now. now, any part of him makes your pussy wet.

“thought you weren’t smoking,” you tilt your hips up and further into his hand.

he lets you, wanting you to become as unnerved as possible. “i wasn’t, then. i am, now.” his attention flicks down to your crotch. hobie wishes the lighting is a little better. he can’t see anything like this. sure, he can see his actions but he can’t see the effect it has on you. he can feel the damp spot when his fingers drift too far down and push into you as far as your underwear will allow.

you squirm, tempted to tug it to the side yourself. you can’t breathe under the pressure of need. how much longer is he going to delay this?

“stop movin’,” he squeezes your hip. “i let you act like act like a bitch in heat for a second but now you’re gettin’ greedy.” he doesn’t usually speak to you like this but when he does, it has you gushing. you keen while your head hangs low.

you clench your hands into fists and screw your eyes shut. “sorry.” you say while giving him your best attempt to sit still.

“and look at me. i’m playing with your cute little pussy. the least you can do is look at me.”

you shake your head in refusal but make eye contact with him, anyway. you’re shy, not because he’s toying with you, but because he’s toying with you in front of his friends, in front of everyone here.

“there you go,” he quietly praises you just under his breath, “there she is.” hobie nudges his way against you, nose poking at your neck. “it’s too bad i can’t suck on it till you’re creaming.”

you jump, your shoulder meeting your ear. it’s unintentional, following the way his breath tickles your skin. “don’t say that,” your voice is all watery.

he pulls the your baby blue panties to the side and sucks his teeth. his eyes are rolling at your words. “don’t say that? i have my fingers deep inside you and you’re telling me not to say that?”

“you don’t – ”

your body falls forward when it happens, when hobie plunges in his fingers without warning. your mouth drops open, knees digging into his side when your legs attempt to close. “ohh,” it leaves your mouth long and drawn out. the sudden stretch of his pointer and middle finger makes your body curl.

“someone just sold me these shrooms.”

you hear the crinkle of a bag somewhere nearby and the sound only gets louder. you can assume it’s being passed around but your blood is pumping in your ears. you breathe heavily, mindlessly sinking your teeth into his shoulder.

“i’d let you hold ‘em, hobes, but . . .”

his body shakes underneath you when he laughs lightly. his fingers don’t stop their incessant movements, stroking your walls. “all good. how much did you pay?”

you writhe when hobie digs into your spot, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit. you can feel a small stream of drool pooling out of your cheek. it’s more so with how chaotic you are, tongue and teeth relishing at his neck.

you feel a heavy arm stilling you against him despite your struggle.

“don’t mind her. she’s just being a baby ‘bout it.” he doesn’t apologize for his explicit acts. he apologizes for your distracting reactions, for your quiet moans. it unnerves you.

here you are, worked up and dripping in front of your boyfriend’s friends. they’re so casual about it and as much as you hate to remember, they’re not wrong to be. hobie gets off on this and by default, you do too.

“is she a baby or are you an absolute ass?”

“you’re gonna irritate me and i’m gonna take it out on her.” his lips is upturned and lazy. “so how much did you pay for it?”

you don’t care to listen to the rest of the conversation. you’re very obviously grinding downward to feel him deeper and it only results in you tightening around him with a gasp. you’re weakly tugging his face until he’s turned around.

he’s not exactly thrilled to be interrupted from his conversation but he takes pity and gives in. your lip connect, tongues immediately tangling with each other. your saliva mixes and he sucks on your tongue to satiate you. on occasion, your teeth bump and crash against each other but it doesn’t discourage you. you only lean into it.

his fingers increase their pace and he ignores the cramp in his wrists. he juts his fingers against the spot that has you digging your nails into him.

this is so surreal. you and your friends always like fun at the people who get off at your college parties. you’ve told hobie the stories in the past but he seemed disinterested. now, you’re those people at those parties and it doesn’t sound as bad.

“you cummin’?” he whispers to you and you alone. he prefers to this part to himself, only you two knowing without speculation.

your lifting your hips to escape the stimulation, mouth running dry from the way it hangs open. “mhm,” you squeal. the ball wound up tight in your core releasing, accompanying spurts of cream.

your chest heaving as you gulp out air. hobie pulls his fingers out with a low squelch only he can hear. a low whistle leaves his lips at the where his fingers glisten. you’re expecting him to press them to your tongue but your eyes widen when they continue to extend outwards. instead, they’re all in riri’s mouth.

they’re both eyeing you and you don’t know what to do. your attention darts between the both of them before focusing on the floor. your hands fiddle with your skirt. your face is burning, your whole body is.

“damn hobes,” she mumbles.

you can still feel their gaze on you, thick and heavy.

his hands are running from your back to your calves and back up again. the saliva is smearing over your skin. “i know. it’s better right from the source.” he slides your panties back in there spot and ignore how disappointed you look.

“ ‘bie,” you want to cry. you don’t want to beg in front of everyone but it’s as if he doesn’t care about you.

“stop your whinin’,” he fixes you with a pointed glare. hobie pushes you off his lap til you’re standing. “we’ll be back.” he doesn’t have to explain himself for everyone to understand what’s happening, not that he would anyway. he gets off the couch and takes your hand in his.

hobie takes you with him, guiding you to the bathroom. both your hands are clasped around his and you’re staring at him, wide eyed, rather than your surroundings.

he can feel you watching him. you’re doe eyed and it makes him harder than he already is. it’s as if he’s the only one that can fix it, and he truly is. hobie nearly tosses you into the bathroom. he slams the door behind him and flicks over the lock.

when he turns around, you’re kneeling and pawing at his jeans. you pout when you undo his zipper.

“what’s wrong, pretty?” hobie hooks his fingers under your chin and lifts it to his. “you don’t have to suck it if you don’t want to.”

“it’s not that,” you pull down his jeans . you wrap your fingers around the base and jerk your hand up and down his shaft. “you embarrassed me really bad.” you poke your cheek with your tongue. “can’t face your friends, now.”

hobie pinches your cheek. he mocks your expression before breaking out in a smile. “didn’t look embarrassed fucking yourself on my fingers. i’m not the one who licked your cum off ‘em.” he squeezes your face together until your lips are puckered.

he slaps his tip against your lips and smears the saliva-precum mix across your cheeks. you’re not moving fast enough, too busy telling him “problems” that he couldn’t care about. you don’t even mean them, just want something to irritate him with.

you shut your lips tightly and cross your arms over your chest. he’s only making you more likely to be difficult. you turn your cheek at him and stare at the rug. “not listening to me.”

hobie sighs and runs his hands over his face. he knows you’re delicate and are quick to throw a fit when you feel you have to. if he doesn’t get you under wraps, he’ll have to put in more effort in the long run. “what is it, baby? because the last time i checked, you’re the one who was about to scream my head off because i didn’t take out my dick right then and there.”

you purse your lips harder. “i wasn’t screaming. you’re being dramatic.”

“i’m being dramatic?” he cannot believe you right now. he squats down until you’re levelled with each other. his hand engulfs you by the throat. he doesn’t squeeze, just holds you close. “you’re mad at me because you came. most of it was your work, though. don’t piss me off.”

neither of you say anything for the passing moment. the only movement made is the small nod of your head.

he releases you following a quick peck on your lips. he stands and you’re back to your previous task, swallowing his cock. you hollow your cheeks, hands on his thighs.

hobie grips the sink behind you. he has to siphon his strength to prevent from breaking the counter. he tries, he really does to keep himself from fucking your throat.

he always does start off as gentle, restraining himself. he watches you, watches your spit dribble and froth. his hand strokes the back of your head. he’s all langley, long enough to do so with no problems.

you realize too late when he pushes your head down until you’re choking, eyes watering with your tears. they spill over your eyes when you close them and gasp for air when he lets go.

hobie brushes your tears away while you wheeze. “couldn’t help myself.” he does feel apologetic, although he would definitely do it again. he doesn’t, though. not until you’re ready, sniffling and aligning his cock with your mouth.

you relax as much as you can. after his big push, you down more than the last attempt. you’ve never been able to fit his whole dick in your mouth, considering the length. the rest of it is beneath your hands, being squeezed and rubbed.

he can’t help the way he bucks his hips forward. he does feel guilty when you choke but it’s overwhelmed by the vibrations of your temporary struggle. still, you persist. you suck and slurp despite your need for air. you’re a bit lightheaded and grateful when hobie takes a step back and pulls himself out.

he exhales, thumb pressing on his tip and holding his cock still to discourage himself from cumming. you can’t even fathom how you make him feel. he believes even if you kissed him long enough, he could cum untouched. “you’re so good to me,” he wets his lips, the other hand on the wall. “so good, too good.”

you drink in the praise with a satisfied smile. you wriggle your toes beneath you and decide to take advantage of his lack of attention. your fingers dip between your legs and underneath your underwear.

you lean forward just enough to fingerfuck yourself. it doesn’t feel as good as when he does it, purely because your hands are much smaller than his. “hobie,” you call out to him.

his actions to last longer are almost futile when he meets your big brown eyes. “slut,” he mutters and pulls you to your feet.

you don’t hide your smile when he turns you around by your hips and pushes you down over the counter. he flips your skirt up and yanks your panties down to your ankles.

you don’t give him a chance to tease, pushing your hips back the moment you feel his dick lined up with your slit. you grip the countertop until the tips of your fingers are white and devoid of the red tint.

hobie pushes down on your the small of your back. he trails his thumb over your tramp stamp. he looms over you, your back pressed against his chest. “you’re so pretty, honey. y’know that?” he squeezes your jaw, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. he thinks you look a little better like this, with tear stains streaming down your face and leaving the trails in your powder. the eyeliner you spent so long to perfect is a bit smudged and the highlight in the corner of your hair is gone.

you whine and wiggle your hips. he’s not doing enough. he’s not doing anything but talking about you and that’s not what you want. “stop talking, please.” you feel miserable, shoes clicking against the floor when you shuffle your feet.

“don’t start complainin’, you hear me? i don’t wanna hear it.” he kisses the nape of your neck and rises.

you think nothing of it. you’re awfully confident until he’s grasping your hips and snapping into you. you nearly scream, reaching back and pressing against his stomach.

hobie shoves your hand off his body and holds it instead. “what did i just say?” he much rather you squeeze his hand, nails pressing into his skin. he guides it back to the counter and leaves them both there, his other hand fucking you back onto him.

he’s using you. you can hear the the sound of impact between your skin. you can feel it too, toes curling under the straps of your heels. you can’t keep yourself quiet, moaning into the back of your hand.

for once, hobie doesn’t reprimand you about it. you can already barely stand, forehead resting against the coolness of the composite.

your legs wobble and you’re depending completely on him to hold you up. he’s a little limited in his view, unable to see your breasts bouncing underneath you. he’s not able to see your face, either.

you make up for it in the way you moan. he can hear his name slipping in, muffled in your hand. the other, underneath his, curls and coils. there is no escaping him when you’re pressed against a hard surface and he’s pressed against you.

“ ‘obie,” you pant. you bend your knee and straighten it out as a way to express your pleasure. in the end, he holds it in the air. with both your hands free, you use the hold on the counter to push back against him.

“don’t worry. i got you.” he reaches under your lifted leg, rolling your sensitive nerves between his fingers.

your back arches and you throw your head over his shoulder. your arms tremble as the waves of your orgasm comes crashing against you.

you’re dizzy, falling forward because he fucks you through it. your mouth is open and drool pools over the side. you don’t care. your cunt throbs with over sensitivity and tears begin in your eyes again.

hobie uses your back dimples as leverage. your pleas ring around in his brain but it’s all foggy. he’s so close and it’ll plaguing his thoughts. “sorry, angel. i’m so sorry.” his hand falls beside your eyes. his pace quickens and he has to cover your mouth when you get too loud.

he suddenly pulls out, spewing his cum over your ass. hobie has to take a second behind you, not that you mind. you don’t feel like moving yourself even when your tits are all squished and uncomfortable.

a few minutes pass before he takes some tissue to clean you up with soft touches. “you did so good.” he says, tossing the tissue away and getting another to wipe the slick on your thighs. “my perfect girl. you okay?”

“mhm.” you haven’t gotten up, eyes closed. your hit with an onslaught of sleepiness, your guess is from the waning influence of everything you’ve consumed tonight.

hobie pulls your underwear back up and fixes your skirt back into its place. he pulls your partially limp body up and gathers you in his arms. “are you fallin’ asleep?”

“mhm,” you hum again, coddling into his warmth.

he smiles, hooking his arms under your knees and lifting you into the air. he doesn’t have to ask to know you would love to be left alone to sleep so he takes it upon himself to carry you to his room to rest.

hobie really can’t wait until you wake up and he tells you all about how he fucked you to sleep.

#ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙ #the ending is sooooo bad #rushed bc im sleepy! #and also bc i didn’t know how to end it #didn’t live up to my expectations but mayb bc it’s me #might revisit last??? #astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader